I had a very interesting dream last night. It was not lucid, but it had aspects of lucidity - me planning and thinking, and such. All the same, I know that I was still being pretty irrational and was not able to manipulate the dream - I still thought I was in the dream.
I started out having longish red hair. A hairstylist, who was supposed to be the curator of Egyptian kings or something like that, put my hair into three curled-up cylinders that stuck out from my head sharply. I expected that this was to make shaving my head easier, because my hair wouldn't be matted to my head so much. Apparently it was only for her own amusement; she combed it and it went back to normal again. I wanted a mohawk, I think, I'm not sure why. I was there because I was a reincarnation of an Egyptian king, and something with fiddling with my hair would make me a king again, I think. Something happened, eventually, and some zombies/ghosts/skeletons turned up. I was pretty happy and was about to order them around, but they ordered me around - it turned out I was forced to work in the kitchens - I was apparently the reincarnation of an Egyptian chef or something instead. So I went to my squad leader as I was told. Bitter at having been turned into a slave, I saluted him, sarcastically saying "Heil, das fuhrer". (I'm not sure why I said das instead of mein) I then thought that "Jawohl, mein fuhrer" probably would have worked better, but by then it was too late. Anyway, we went to the kitchens. There were long rectangular desks, two people to each desk, arranged in a block. I went to my desk; it was at the front and to the left; I sat on the right seat. An immensely fat woman (in retrospect, probably your mother) supervised us. Two curly spaghetti-like gummy candy pieces, one green and one orange, sprinkled with sour salt (you know, the sugar-like grains that add sourness) lay before me. Apparently, our job was to make candy out of these by spinning them together. I think I may have eaten one on mine, because I remember them being pretty tasty. The supervisor shouted at my neighbor for something or other, I don't remember what. I took one of mine, and I took the other, and I sort of pushed them together so they touched. Then I rotated them, so that they fit one inside the other, if you can see what I mean; it took me all of five seconds. I was startled by how easy this supposed labor was. The supervisor congratulated me for being so fast; I was a little proud, even though it seemed that it was a pretty idiotic job. I pondered how people enjoy getting praise from authority figures, even if the authority figure is hated (like the cruel supervisor). I went back to my table, only to find that the other two pieces were gone; ordinarily we would have four pieces and make two candies per day (a ridiculous job) but I think maybe I ate my other pieces. I told the supervisor, and she said not to worry about it and told me I was done for the day. The people around me made plans to escape. I told them to be careful, to be methodical; after all we only had to work 15 minutes a day (actually it was more like 15 seconds), which was a lot better than many people had, and it's not like escape was a really urgent priority. It would pay to be careful and make sure of success rather than to run a half-baked escape plan as soon as possible. I also thought about how perhaps the vents could be unscrewed with fingernails (something I had read about in real life in Philip Zimbardo's The Lucifer Effect, about his Stanford Prison Experiment). One day as we were working, my coworker dropped her ID card on the ground (on purpose; this was a test or something). The supervisor crawled under the table to confiscate it for carelessness. Someone else dropped his on purpose, and then someone else. She then returned them, for some reason. I'm not sure what the test was. I think it was to distract her while someone else did something or other, to prepare for escape. Anyway, apparently she was really angry or something. She hired a goat and a stoat, or something. We were very afraid as stoats could have rabies. Then we found out it was actually a pig. Later, a very old woman with a very wrinkled face came to us carrying an actual stoat, and once more we were quite afraid. By the way, real stoats have legs; this one didn't really have legs, it was basically a straight cylinder of fur. We jumped on top of the tables to try and avoid getting bitten. The stoat jumped on my table first - I felt a rush of fur by my feet. I leaped up, to avoid getting bitten; this made my table become unbalanced and fall over. By then the stoat was leaping to the next table, but I grabbed it in the middle. People rejoiced, as the danger was gone. I then seized it by the tail and smashed it against the wall, but it just seemed to bounce off unharmed. I kept doing this. I ended up being able to harm it a little - I knew that it was at 87% health, for some reason. Suddenly someone alerted me - the supervisor was coming to take back the stoat and punish me! I grabbed the stoat by its neck (as well as its midsection) and aimed it at the supervisor, like a weapon. She moved forward toward me - I shoved the stoat at her, steering its head towards her hand, to try to get the stoat to bite her and thus drive her off. I guess her hand was too fat to fit in its mouth or something; She leapt back but was unharmed. This happened again; I was defeated and sent to be questioned. She sat down, and the people beside her leapt off their tables (now circular for some reason) and ran to the far side of the room in fear. I was pretty far away from her. She said, "Now, I'm going to ask you a question - who pays when the animal is harmed?" I knew that she was trying to get me to say the stoat trainer or animal trainer, in order to say that I had (by hitting the stoat to 87% health) cost the stoat trainer money in veterinarian fees or whatnot. Therefore, I gave as many answers that were not stoat trainer/animal trainer as possible. I said something or other; she asked me for more. I said "dog trainer", then "lion tamer", then I said "the guy who juggles on the elephant - what is it - the clown". This continued, me saying more and more occupations but not the one she wanted - I don't remember how it ended. Something happened where we were near a cave. I don't remember what happened, but the end result was that we were trying to guard the cave and kill her. She was immensely fat, as I have said, and almost invincible, it seems. I tried to get myself and my men into position. I had several miniguns, and a rocket launcher, and a sniper; two people holding two miniguns each (ridiculous I know) would stand nearest the cave entrance. I would stand to the left and back with the rocket launcher, and the sniper would stand to the right and back. The supervisor eventually came out charging. The gunners cut a wide swath of destruction, but to no avail; all the bullets missed her. The sniper presumably missed too. I was lying down, aiming my rocket launcher carefully as a sniper would. I fired; the rocket exploded near her feet, and she burst into flames. I shouted that we had won, that she was doomed at this point, that her fat would make her burn extremely vigorously until she died. Unfortunately after a few seconds the fire went out for some reason. We all ran away. I ran backwards, as my rocket launcher was the only thing that seemed to do real damage (by the way, the rocket launcher automatically reloaded itself). When she drew near, I blasted her with another rocket and she burst into flames again - but it went out again. My teammates shouted for me to turn around, to just run as fast as possible instead of trying to kill her; something happened and it resetted so that I could have another try. This time, I saw four guys standing at a very small (doorway-size) entrance in a brick cavern. First I was happy that the entrance was so small; it made sure that she would not be able to dodge around and dodge our attacks. Then I was outraged at how stupid they were, standing right at the entrance - but then I saw that it was a necessity for they had only baseball bats this time. I still had my rocket launcher. Looking closer, I saw that the fat ends of their baseball bats had been loaded with javelins; apparently it was some sort of cross between a speargun and a melee weapon. In any case I let them stay where they were; apparently it would be up to me to stop the supervisor. I shot a rocket at the top of the brick tunnel, hoping to collapse it (a tactic I had thought about during the assault on the cavern). It exploded on impact, but unfortunately, nothing really happened; a river of small rocks fell down but it did not collapse. Right then, the supervisor started charging out of the cavern - I ran for it - when my rocket launcher reloaded, I fired at her. The rocket missed, and I ran again; I fired again, and she kicked the rocket away. I was ruined; I restarted again. I planned a new plan; I thought about how the sniper would snipe and if he could get a headshot first thing, and the gunners would riddle the supervisor with bullets, and I would use my rocket launcher to finish the job. Unfortunately, I don't remember a third try; I think it was then that I woke up.
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Topic: Lucid dreaming (Read 42851 times)