Archive for March, 2010

Lucid dream recall

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

I had this dream in the middle of a short, 15 minute nap that I took in the midst of desperately studying for an organic chemistry midterm. Given that I rarely ever remember my dreams any more, it’s one of the most intense I’ve had in a while, the only dream in a long-ass time in which I remember acting on conscious decisions.

So anyway, I fell asleep in the library-

-And opened my eyes, in what seemed to be the same one. Same paint scheme, bookshelves, dreary, gray atmosphere. I was leaning against an icy wall. Spontaneously, my eyes began flooding, a trail of hot tears streaking down my cheeks. Some person I know, a short blond, or light-haired Caucasian girl, appeared in front of me. She may have teleported.
With that mixture of pity and concern and her face, she asked me what was wrong, whether I was okay, that whole spiel of feigned empathy. I didn’t feel any spike in sadness, or happiness, so I could offer no explanation.
The sound of of bouncing basketball caught my ear–I turned to follow it. There was a gathering of people surrounding a basketball court, a clearing between the jungle of bookshelves. I ran up to the court and asked if there was as game going on. Sure enough, an intramural game was about to start. They needed one more guy. Of course I wanted to play. I knew some of these guys and had run with them before; they would put up a good game.
To their dismay, I ended up backing out, though. A basketball court in a library? This didn’t make a shred of sense. Logic seeped in. This had to be a dream. I scrambled around the library, looking for more proof of fantasy, an excuse to wake up. I came across a familiar-looking, fobbish Asian guy. I asked him whether or not this was a dream. He told me to put out my hand. This is how we were going to make sure. He smiled at me creepily. I didn’t like where this was headed. It was weird. He squeezed my fist. I expected pain. Remember that prank in middle school/high school where kids share you hand and dislodge your knuckles? I grimaced, but all I got was a firm, warm clasp. His grin widened in width and creepiness.
I didn’t wake up. I was still here.
I pulled back. My heart began to compress in panic. I slapped my face a couple of times. The sting lingered. Logical fallacies or not, this shit was too vivid.
Disembodied voices ran through my head. I quickly scanned my surroundings. It wasn’t from the fob, and there was nobody else around in plain sight. Instantaneously, I began feeling the numbness of my hands, the stiffness of my feet, the grinding of my neck onto an awkward protrusion. I forcibly cracked my stiff eyelids open.
I sat up and looked around. Deep breaths. The adrenaline was finally dissipating, pulsing cardiac returning to a more comfortable pace.
An open organic chemistry book sat on the table. Yup, this was reality.