Dream: Antsy Nancy and the Palm Journal LUCID

Dream 20030303, 8:50 AM:

Note: I started this nap session with the “things I know” technique. I lie quietly in bed, and go through a collection of facts about my current state and location… “I know that I am lying in bed to dream. I know that my right hand is beneath my right cheek on the pillow. I know that the sheets on the bed are green. I know that the head of the bed is elevated on two bricks. I know that it is Monday. I know that today is February 3…” etc.

I am in a place that is a sort of cross between the Kingwood House (where my parents live) and the Arts Center (where I work). I am sitting at my computer, not doing much; I think that I have an email window and a couple of other things open. Diane comes over to my desk, and she seems kind of panicky; I ask what’s wrong. I click through the open windows on my computer, and leave it on one with word processing. Diane says that it’s 11:41 on the morning of our Jazz Concert, and Joanna’s not back yet, and she’s getting stressed about the concert. I become aware that this is a dream – I don’t know what triggered the sense of awareness, but it just comes over me. I walk out of the space that is my office (it’s very different than in real life, but is still an open space with no door) and as I do, I pass an acrylic mail folder on the wall full of paper. I pick it up and flip through it quickly; there are lots of images of people’s faces, and pages of text. It looks like a bunch of biographies. I pick up one sheet and focus on the writing; it is very difficult to pin it down, but I want to see if I can actually read a line. It’s in a Times New Roman font, and I read the first line, which has about four words. The only ones I can remember now are “turn” and “axe.” I read it again without taking my eyes off it, willing it to remain the same; it does, and I feel justified.

I walk down the hall to the bathroom, which now is the bathroom at the Kingwood house, pretty much. I look at myself in the mirror, and I am a pretty normal representation of myself. I dance around a little bit until my whole body tingles; I remark to myself that I’m glad that my dream body can get such a tingle and not wake my sleeping real body. I enjoy the sensation of the buzz. It seems like my whole body is being tingled with tiny electric sparks, along with an overall low-intensity vibrating buzz. It makes me feel very alive, and makes me feel like my dream body is very solid.

I walk out into the living room, although it’s a very different space, with a counter that leads toward the back door. Joanna has gotten back, and Nancy F. walks in, and I say hello but she just gives me a look. I decide that rather than going flying, I want to ride this dream out and see where it’s going, and maybe have a little fun. Nancy puts down a bowl on the counter, and says, “Here are the wax candies; they’re a quarter apiece.” I make up my mind on a goal for this dream – I’m gonna get Nancy somehow.

I go outside, and down the block; there is someone with me, or maybe more than one person, but I don’t remember who, just a sense that I have company. We walk down to where the Schaumers used to live, and there is a person there with a bunch of beautiful show horses. They are out in the front yard, grooming them and walking them around. I am barefoot, and I feel an odd cushy soft sensation as I put my foot down in the grass beside the road. I look down, and realize that I have stepped into an anthill. I very quickly start brushing them off my feet, but the dirt of the anthill is stuck to my foot as if it had been raining. I am stung several times, and I remark to myself that it’s a good thing I’m dreaming or I’d be sore and itchy afterwards. I brush them off, but then I see another clump of mud on the back of my foot, and when I brush at it ants come out, like they had been underneath it. I do this once more, and then my foot is clean. I look at the road, and it is covered in wet debris, like there had been a flood. I see a tiny black toad hopping along, and then a couple more. I decide that the ants will be a good way to get Nancy; I start planning in my mind how to put them in her chair or something.

We walk back to the house, and as we’re walking through the carport toward the patio, I see a little thing on the ground that reminds me of an old-fashioned calculator – one of the ones that had paper tapes and a bright blue LED readout. I look into the readout, which has space for about 3 lines of text, and it says something about “J Golden” and asks for a password. I punch in something on the keypad, and it accepts it, and starts displaying journal entries. I read it for a second, and then we carry it on into the back porch. There is a drip coming down from the edge of the carport where it meets the porch, as if it is raining. I look out in the back yard, and by the flowerbed beside Mom and Dad’s room, there is a huge snake. The yard is flooding, and I think to myself that it must be a water moccasin. It is pure black, and guaging from the distance, it must be about five or six feet long. I look at the collection of tools beside the garage, and there are a *bunch* of them… I finally find a hoe, and I walk into the yard to kill the snake. I have some sort of tall stilt that is under both my feet together, like one of the characters in Allegria – and I am walking with the hoe like a crutch. I get to where the snake is, but as I approach it, it is thicker – now, it looks like a seal. I prod it with the back of the hoe, and it makes a noise, and the dream fades. I am pleased that I was in this dream, and lucid, for as long as I was. It seemed to go on for quite a while.

I find myself lying in bed, still asleep in body but mentally awake. I decide that I want to re-enter the dream state, and I start listening to random bits of hallucinatory noise in my head. I find myself looking down into the display of the same little machine as before, only now there is a space above the lettering that has a little video screen. I watch it, and there is a tiny movie playing in there; I am still very aware that I am lying in bed at this point, and that this is the beginning of a more substantial hallucinatory passage. I watch the display, and it is four or five people from a movie, they are dressed in Arabian harem style costumes. I recognize McCauley Culkin, or some other child star (I think it was him….) and Bernadette Peters. I zoom in momentarily on those figures, and watch them for a minute, but it seems like this is only a brief little clip. They are running toward a door, and when they reach it, it stops. There is someone with me, and that person is leaning in trying to see the screen too – I keep brushing his/her hair out of the way, because it is falling in my line of sight.

I look up, and I’m at the Kingwood house again. We are inside the house, and Mary from OCP is here. I look out in the back yard, and see a big horse-like animal, but I realize that it is Kego, who is somehow now the Pony-Dog. She still has her same coloring, and mostly the same face, but she is about shoulder height. She is bounding back and forth in a little pen area behind the main plate glass window. I talk to Mary and she says something about a spray that’s supposed to make your body perfect; I want to see if it works, and I pull up my shirt and spray it on my belly. It starts to writhe and change shape, and get flat and muscular. I’m pretty amazed, and I start peeling off my clothes so I can spray it all over my body. I have a fading image of wanting to spray this stuff on my skin, then the dream begins to fade to black.

Then, I’m distracted by a little video image; I see a pale-skinned black woman, hugely fat but with a disproportionately huge butt. She is leaning toward the viewer, and her butt makes a heart shape behind her, wider than her shoulders. Then, the image rotates, and I can see that there is a man behind her, also black but much darker; he is banging at her like he’s fucking her, and as t
he image rotates on, I see his really huge belly – it is comical, the way it’s shaped. He’s not really entering the woman, he’s banging his belly against her butt. Then, I wake again, and can’t get back to dreaming.

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