Dream Log: March 20, 2000

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baking cookies in the living room and discovering how bad my mother was at it. she got angry and went away.

a cat who loved me

I may have been naked in the bookstore, but it was uncertain.

i woke up to the sound of my computer's CD-ROM drive opening and closing its tray. open, close, open, close, open, close, about once every half- second or so. i got up and walked over to it, and ran the 'w' command to see who was logged in. just me. i did it again. just me. i did it one more time. me, and some user named 'troy'. as i've never given anyone named Troy an account on my machine, i became a little suspicious. i looked at his login; it was coming from the Linux router in the machine room. what? that can't be. he musta cracked it. i got pissed.

i went outside and looked around. i heard a knock on the door, and went and answered it. it was Troy; i just knew it. he looked at me and didn't say a damn thing. i grabbed the sides of his head and knocked his head to mine in a desperate attempt to communicate with him. it didn't work; he kept staring at me with deep, quizzical eyes.

i let him go. i heard music. i turned around and Troy was gone; shit. i turned again and Frosty was there, wondering what was going on. i tried to explain to him how Troy had cracked into the router and then crackpipe and started playing with the CD-ROM drive and woken me up and done all that i've just told you. more deep, quizzical eyes. i went back into my room and tried to catch up on some sleep.

i gradually woke up again, this time to the sound of my own thoughts. was the oil guy coming this morning? my room wasn't locked. was it? i wondered if it were locked. i would certainly have a hard time getting out. what if i had to pee and the oil guy was here and i was locked in? i could pee in a bottle, i guess. i counted the bottles in my room in my head. two. no, three. it would take some aim. i doubt Frostbyte locked me in anyway. he wouldn't do that. then what if the oil guy checked my room? moving my bed was out of the question. there weren't even any steam valves in my room. wouldn't do 'em any good. our heat was working fine. and if i wasn't locked in, and the oil guy was here, and i had to pee, what then? i could sneak out and hope he didn't see me. but the bell, that bell on my door. he'd hear that. would he ignore it? i don't think he'd need to see my room. the sun looks low; it's probably too early anyway. Frosty said he was going to wake up around 10am. it's too early to be 10am. i'll sleep until then.

but shit, i can't sleep through this. i've gotta be gone by then. would Frostbyte have woken me up before bringing the guy in, or would he have let me sleep and hoped i'd catch on that i should stay in my room until he gave an all-clear? and shit, what if i had to pee? dammit, this makes no sense. he couldn't be here yet. i don't hear anything. i listened some more and still heard nothing. SHIT what the hell was that? sounded like a kid chucking gravel at my window. i listened some more. a truck, downstairs. the goddamn dumptruck. i concluded that it was a dumptruck chucking gravel at my window.

i became slowly aware that my computer was on its desk. where it belonged. not over by the wall, where it had been opening and closing its CD tray. where it didn't belong. what the hell....?

then i woke up. i had to pee.

don't drink Jolt before bedtime.

Hundred Faces Hundred Bodies

• After school, instead of going home to my mom and Jerry or visiting Genery, I decide to go to the movies. The fictional theatre is located on the west side of Santa Rosa, California but the neighborhood looks like something out of Corvallis, Oregon, small townish and old-fashioned. The movie theatre is classic art deco, ablaze in flowing lightbulbs across the street from a dark park lit by isolated amber streetlamps. Burning in black and white on the marquee, I see there's a new movie playing that I really want to see, starring Nicholas Cage. I step up to purchase my ticket and ask for one adult admission. As I pull out my money I see that there's already a twenty dollar bill lying in the transfer basin. I give the ticket-girl my cash and pocket the twenty along with my change and ticket. Upon entering the theatre, it occurs to me that I should let someone know where I am. There are two payphones in the lobby; one is out of order and one is occupied with someone waiting. There are only a couple of minutes until the movie starts. I go outside and across the street to a payphone in the park. I drop a quarter and a dime in and call my house. Jerry answers the phone and I tell him where I am and what I'm doing. He asks me for a lot of details like where the theatre's located and what we're going to do when I get home. He delays me so long after the movie's start time that I decide to get a refund on my ticket and just go home. I tell him this and hang-up. I reach lucid dream-awareness and choose to become as lucid as I can. The dream solidifies into a reality equal to, in all physical aspects, the waking reality within which I type this out. I now have greater mental control over the dream than I have ever had before. My Will becomes physically manifested before my eyes. As I walk back across the street and along the empty sidewalk, I focus my thoughts and manifest a crowd of people, every one of their faces known to me. It's stream of consciousness reality as I manifest the body of a compatriot, David Shue and then multiply him so that every face in the crowd is his face, every body his body. Now I multiply my own body a hundredfold--I have simultaneous awareness of every separate independent body--and every one of my selves steps forward with hand outstretched to greet a corresponding David, and begin a conversation. The composite vision from my one hundred pairs of eyes feels like 360 degree panoramic omniscience. The movement of all those bodies leave colored tracers behind and time seems to flow a bit slower than normal. I relax control and walk back into the movie theatre and over to the counter. I ask for a refund and the young black man tells me that I can't get one since the movie already started. I am about to explain that that is the very reason why I want a refund when I simply exert Willful mental control, and he quickly returns my money with a smile. I walk back out the door and am suddenly elsewhere.

  In a small apartment, I'm with Adam, Erik and Dave Moss. We are talking about the Wayne Shorter concert, where I had apparently missed an opportunity to play with Shorter myself. I have the feeling I just smoked DMT and just came out of the trance. I am still lucid and sort of ignore reality around me. I get up and walk out the door, down the hallway and into a room with a piano. My intention is to try to play some music but there's equipment piled on top. I move it and just sit down to play when the other guys come out. My control is slipping anyway as I am losing concentration. I hit a couple of notes. Dream ends.

This was, by far, the most lucid dream I have had so far. The reality control was unprecedented.