I had this one lucid dream where a lady came up to me and said, “Don’t control the dream,” really softly. I had the same dream again a couple days later but instead of just one lady. I was surrounded by a whole group of people with glowing eyes just saying, “Don’t,” and I got so freaked out that I never tried to lucid dream ever again.
I really feel like when we sleep we just kinda cruising in another demesion.
i read a book on lucid dreaming where the author told a story of a friend who, while lucid dreaming, held a town hall meeting with all the people in the dream and tried to explain to them that this was all his dream and that they’d disappear when he woke up. They didn’t believe him at first and were concerned for his mental health and then one girl stood up and said SHE knew she was real and was scared what would happen when he woke up if he was telling the truth, and soon everyone in the room was crying and screaming and begging him not to wake up.
in the same book he told a story of when he was lucid dreaming and told all his friends in the dream that he could do whatever he wanted because it was just his dream and so he started flying and his friends got pissed and started yelling at him and jumping up and grabbing his legs and pulling him back down
Yeah sounds about right. When you’re dreaming you’re still beholden to your brain, and turns out we act very very human when unconscious
My roots are not hermetically sealed in this bag, they have access to gas exchange with the cabin air. My roots are thus exposed in this transparent bag, naked to the universe. Embarrassed, it took me a few days to get over the idea that anyone can see my roots without any dirt covering them.
My gardener fusses with my leaves. I am not sure if I like that. I now have four and I do not quite understand why he behaves this way. He sticks his nose up against them. Does he take me for some sort of a handkerchief? Apparently he takes pleasure in my earthy green smell. There is nothing like the smell of living green in this forest of engineered machinery. I see the resultant smile. Maybe this is one of my roles as a crewmember on this expedition.
I have a call sign. I guess a call sign is a fighter pilot thing and was surprised that I could earn such a title. At first someone suggested “Four-Leaf”. I was a bit embarrassed when I heard this since I still only sport four leaves and feel a bit sensitive to this fact. My gardener intervened and said that would not do. He gave me my call sign – “Rose”.
My gardener made special arrangements for a two way video conference with a special Earth-flower. When all the arrangements had been made, he took me from my window and placed me center stage in front of the video camera. She was a very attractive flower all neatly dressed. He said to her, “I can not offer you much; I can only give you a space zucchini.” The image of my orange blossom was beamed across the void between spacecraft and Earth. Her heart melted. I felt as much a rose as any rose could ever be.
Behind this zucchini is a deeply frustrated romance novelist.
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