This was another very long lucid dream adventure. I manage to succeed at WILD and enter the dream In the start of the dream, I find myself in a shopping mall. Before I continue in the dream, I stabilize and make sure I am relaxed, focused and balanced.
I walk down the hallway looking at the shops. I see Mark Hamill who is sitting at a computer in one of the shops typing away at a keyboard. Normally, I don’t like to bother celebrities, in waking life I’d likely just move along but since this was a dream, I thought it would be fun to talk with him and walk over.
“How are you doing Mark?” I ask him.
He looks up and smiles, “I’m doing well, how are you?”
“I’m fine. I hope you don’t mind me coming over to say hi.” I tell him.
“I’m just reading a script.” he replies. He tells me another agent had a role for him but it was a hassle to jump through some loops because it wasn’t his agent to land the part. He gets up and takes the keyboard with him to talk.
“I can imagine it must be a lot of bureaucracy to have to deal with.” I tell him. “You are very talented with voice acting. Who doesn’t love your version of the Joker.”
He smiles and replies, “Most people know me for playing Luke in Star Wars, but I really love voicing the Joker. He’s an amazing and fun character to play.”
“Star Wars was very culturally influencing. I’ve had a lot of Star Wars themed dreams over the years and love every one.” I reply.
“You dream of Star Wars?” he asks.
“Amongst many other genres. I practice Genre Specific Lucid Dreaming. I’ve spent the last 30 years pursuing consciousness during sleep.”
He gets a little weirded out by that, his face changes from a smile to some deep introspection. “What’s that like?” he asks.
“Well, it is a lot like this right now. It’s as real as this reality, except it’s a dream and I know it’s a dream. I think of it as living a second life.” I reply.
“That sounds pretty wild.” he replies.
“It’s a lot of fun. I’m going to TMI, the Monroe Institute in a couple of weeks. They have some courses on being conscious during sleep. Hopefully I can learn something new.” I tell him.
“Where is that at?” he asks.
“It’s in Virginia.” I reply.
“Who are you?” he asks.
“My name is Ian Wilson, I post on twitter as YouAreDreaming and enjoy reading your tweets. They can be quite entertaining.” I explain.
“Can I take your picture? I want to tell my wife about you.” he asks.
“Sure, but I’m not very photogenic.” I laugh.
He uses the keyboard as a camera, it has an LED display and I see myself on the screen. My face is scruffy and unshaven. He takes the picture but the angle is more of a worms-eye view and I can see up my nose.
Mark then tells me he has to go to an audition and bids me farewell. I say goodbye and as he leaves I re-stabilize in the dream. Quite often I don’t like to engage dream characters until I am very balanced and focused as drawing attention away from lucidity and engaging dream drama can cause me to loose lucidity.
We were standing near this Kiosk in the hallway so I put my hand on the counter and just relax and focus. I think about acting and what an audition would be like. The dream changes and I find myself in this classroom full of Actresses and Actors. The best part, Frank Oz was the teacher.
The kiosk changed into a desk, and I was still grounding. I look around at the people and the first person I recognize is Jaime Pressly except she’s a teenager and looks amazing. I see Leonardo DeCaprio, Joseph Levitt and a young version of I think Jean Reno from the professional of all people.
I sit at the desk and I see Rachel McAdams looking at me and she smiles. All of these celebrities and all young teenage versions of themselves. I’m also a teenager. The only one not benefiting from this dreams fountain of youth was Frank Oz.
I didn’t know what to do, I looked at Jamie Pressly because she was out of her desk leaning over someone else’s desk wearing tight jeans. I look back at Rachel McAdams and she keeps looking at me smiling. I thought I could easily exploit this dream and have sex with one of them but opted to just go with the flow. I might be a teenager in the dream, but 45 in real life. I don’t often use my dreams to exploit a sexual fantasy these days.
Frank was talking about character acting and I wanted to listen. I was just happy to be in a dream with all of these actresses and actors but seeing Frank Oz was very nostalgic. I thought that was just brilliant hear him talking about character acting.
Rachel kept looking back at me and smiling. There was this other actress but I can’t quite place who she was and she got up to come over and talk to me. Rachel seeing this gets up and budges in front of her. “I can’t believe it’s really you. You have no idea how long I waited to finally meet you.” she beams.
“Why would you want to meet me?” I ask her.
“Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea who you are?” she asks.
Frank sees his class getting interrupted and tells her to get back to her seat and tells everyone no talking. He looks at me and asks, “Who are you? I haven’t seen you in my class before.”
The dream is starting to create some drama and I don’t want to lose lucidity and slip back into unconsciousness. “I am the Dreamer Frank.”
He looks confused, “What do you mean you are the dreamer?”
I stand up and walk to the front of the class. “I said, I am the dreamer and this is my dream.”
“This isn’t a dream, are you high on drugs?” he asks.
I laugh, “No, put out your hand and I will show you.”
“What do you mean put out my hand, what are you going to do to it?” he asks.
“I’m not even going to touch you, but I will show you this is a dream.” I reply.
He reluctantly puts out his left hand, and I emit a beam of energy from mine. He feels it, and his skin starts to become slightly textures by hypnagogic fractals. “How are you doing that? What is this energy?” he asks.
“It’s love Frank. The energy is love.” I reply.
I look back at the class, everyone is silent and just staring at me. I decide I want to leave because I feel my lucidity is slipping, too many dream characters can create too much drama. I walk down between a row of desks past Leonardo, he puts his leg out to stop me. I look at him and smile, “Here’s some real life inception for you.”
He looks at me and puts his leg back letting me pass. I go outside the classroom into the hallway. There are lockers all along the wall. A perfect simulation of a high-school. At the end of the hall is the exit with a set of double doors and an exit sign.
I’m immediately relaxed without any dream characters distracting me. I put my hand on one of the lockers and stabilize before I go outside. I find it really prolongs a lucid dream to take breaks to refocus, consciousness in this state is fickle because it’s natural to shift into the normal unconscious ebb and flow. Can happen very subtly and before you know it, lucidity is stripped and you are back in the immersion of the dream without the knowing one is dreaming. Always good to relax, remain calm and enjoy.
I go outside recharged and refreshed and sit down on this concrete sidewalk that was elevated with concrete stairs leading up. There were some younger teens outside smoking and this girl, she must have been about 12-13 sits down beside me.
I’m pretty focused and lucid using the concrete sidewalk that I am sitting on as my anchor. “Why are you not in class?” she asked.
“It was getting dramatic, I needed to get away from everyone so I can relax and remain focused.” I tell her.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks me.
I look at her and laugh. “No, I haven’t had a girlfriend in almost 8 years. Not since I split with my wife.” I tell her.
“Wait, you were married? How is that possible?” she asks.
I guess I am still appearing as a young teenager in hi-school. “I’m not actually that young, I’m really 45 years old.” I tell her.
“No way, you can’t be that old.” she replies.
“It’s true, I am only appearing young because this is a dream. Otherwise I’m just another 45 year old fat guy.” (I’m not that fat but you know… at least I am honest.)
“So you don’t want a girlfriend?” she asks.
“Not really, not important to me anymore. I’ve had my fun with relationships and now I am interested in other pursuits.” I reply.
Rachel McAdam’s dream character comes out of the door looking for me. She sees this other girl sitting with me and decides to sit on the other side of me. “What are you doing with her? I thought you liked me.” she asks.
I look at her and smile, “I do like you, but as a friend.”
“What about her?” she asks.
“I don’t really know her. She just sat down and we started talking.” I reply.
“My name is Sumara!” the other girl replies.
“Tell you both something, not everything is about relationships and who likes who. Sometimes it’s just nice to be with people you like just to enjoy their company.” I tell them. “Besides, I can’t take either of you with me when I wake up so why don’t we just sit here and enjoy the dream together.”
Rachel is bewildered, “Why do you keep saying this is a dream?”
“Because it is a dream.” I tell her.
She looks at her hands and pokes me in the shoulder. “How do you explain that I can touch you, and you feel real. How can I have a body if it’s a dream?” she asks.
“That’s easy, dreams are a simulation of highly-organized thought. We dream relative to how we experience waking life so our dream body mimics our waking body because this is familiar to what we know.” I tell her.
“How do you explain breathing, my heart beating and my lungs expanding? You can’t have these in a dream!” she rationalizes.
“Sure you can, they are all simulations of what you are most familiar with. The dream is just a composition of highly-organized thought, like a virtual reality simulator. Our bodies here are the end product of information processing, a rendering” I tell her.
“What about my real body?” she asks.
“Well, it’s complicated. Your real body is also just a simulation, it too is the product of information processing and a rendering similar to this dream body you are experiencing.” I tell her.
“You mean my body isn’t real?” she asks.
“Not at all, the body is very real. All there is, is reality. But reality is also virtual, a simulation derived from highly organized thought.” I tell her. “More importantly, everything is an experience. We are experiencing what it is to be human in deep immersion.” I explain.
“How do you know all of this? How did it all come to be?” she asks.
“It’s not too hard to explain, we originated from a conscious singularity that has evolved using highly organized thought, the same thought that is forming this dream to immerse itself into a multitude of individualized experiences. We all came from oneness which compartmentalized itself into many parts for the purpose of experience.” I tell her.
“We are one being?” she asks.
“Yes.” I tell her.
“Prove it!” she tells me.
I smile and wave my hand at the sky, the sky opens up and this brilliant light emerges where each ray connects to the fabric of the dream becoming textured and colored. The light is brighter than anything I can likely see in waking life; pure, brilliant and perfect. As it bloomed in the horizon the rays acting like a projector connecting everything in the dream filling us all with a sense of connection.
“That is the one of which we are all a part” I tell her. Her eyes transfixed on the radiance. She becomes absorbed into it and disappears. Sumara looks at me in a state of absolute shock then joy. “Are you God?”
I laugh, “No, I am just a dreamer experiencing what it is to be human.”
“You are amazing! This is amazing! This is a miracle! I can’t believe it!” she explains all driven by some deep joy. She gives me a hug, “I love you!”
“I love you to Sumara. Love is all that matters.” and she too becomes absorbed into the light.
I go back into the school, which has changed into more of a house. I go to a room where there is a bed and lay down looking at the light in the ceiling. It has a white glass cover and as I watch Sumara’s name etches itself in golden text.
I just remark to myself how wonderful dreaming is, how nice it is to be here. Then this man comes into the room. He wants to find out what happened outside. He has tattoo’s and looks like he might be middle eastern.
I tell him that I just exposed the one who dreams us all, the conscious singularity of which all existents flows from, our true self.
He’s concerned about Sumara’s disappearance and I tell him she’s fine. I point at the light where her name is and 3 other names appear in the light including his.
“How are you doing all of this?” he asks me.
“Easy, it’s just a dream. I can change it as I see fit.” I tell him.
He’s still all bothered by not understanding what is going on, so I give him a hug. “It’s ok, you don’t have to worry about anything.” and I shift into the void until there is nothing but pure empty black space.
I decide to have some more fun having not woken up, so I created a entire dream in a cartoon Genre. Much like a 3D movie but with cartoon cell shading and play around with the dream mechanics being in full control of the artistry of thinking in this format.
I didn’t get to play too long because my roommate wakes me up when he’s getting ready to walk his dog. Such is the way of dreaming, the inevitable wake-up.