Last night I dreamed I was living in the house of my childhood. My parents moved around a lot, but this house I remember very well, with fondness. It had character. The floor was uneven. I was living there with 20 or so of my friends, not all of them close friends, we had a sort of commune set up. No farming. I vaguely remember a lot of situations happening, like episodes of a sitcom. None of them seem important now.
I remember quite distinctly we all made gigantic lego sculptures outside, we had infinite legos and it seems were limited only by imagination. My subconscious, it seems, is not without an imagination. We put colored christmas lights everywhere. I remember stumbling around outside and seeing giant lego sculptures lit up in strange colors, everywhere. Also, everyone was eating quite a lot of acid.
The truly strange part, though, for me, was that near the end I realized, I'm in America! (Currently I am teaching english in China) I thought I had probably come home for some holiday, but I know I don't have a multiple-entry visa so I thought 'Damn, that's it, I can't go back to China.' Plus I used my return ticket. For some reason I had forgotten about my job contract and had just left.
But this didn't seem right. I stared at all the lit-up legos and realized I must really still be in China. I must be dreaming. Just to be sure (I was quite afraid about breaking my contract, I really enjoy teaching and don't want to leave yet) I woke up. I think that was as close to a lucid dream as I've ever had.