11 Feb 2024
Dream
This dream was long. I swear it could have been the same one the entire night. I was walking along a path, heading uphill. Soon, I came across a divided path. One led down into the forest. The other led up to a grassy clearing. I take that one and end up spotting a couple buildings. The one to the right seemed like a big family home, but modern-looking, meaning grey and flat. The other to the left was still being built. I realized this as soon as I climbed up to the roof and saw the cement being poured into it. Climbing down, I approached the other building to the right.
Once inside, I found myself at a table. A sort of oval-shaped table. And there were other people there, too. Like five of them. They felt elite, somehow. For some reason, Eric S. was there. The elite seemed to glare at me, as if I was less than them. But when Eric vouched for me, saying I was the one who was lucid dreaming, their look turned to one of challenge. I felt like they all could have been real. Meaning that they were meeting there through their dreams. I went outside, onto the balcony, and saw a hill of pure, beautiful green. On the deck there were several broad-leafed potted plants.
I looked down at my hands, then looked away, then looked at them again and saw that my right hand had distorted a little, blown up like a balloon, pudgy fingers. I knew I was dreaming. I thought of last night's dream when I looked at my hands on the stairs of my burning house and laughed at how differently distorted they had gotten this time. The scene changed and I was in my home at Piedra Azul in Chile but on the beach part. The tide was out but there were people dragging kayaks along the sand to the left of the shore to a little square storage building that was there. (That storage building does not exist in real life.) At some point I was inside that building, but I don't remember more.
I woke up with a burning desire to preserve and remember this dream.
