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I’ve been partial to my pen and paper lately, so I haven’t been spending much time here to properly explain the dreams.  I’ve also been under a lot of stress.  Oh well.

The dreams themselves have become a little less frequent, but more interesting, so I’m unhappy that I’m not remembering them.  At first, it was a little overwhelming and I found that I never felt rested, so I purposely avoided smelling the lily oil so as to give myself less work to do the following day, when I knew I’d be busy and feeling under-rested.  But now, even though I’m not feeling as rested as often, I feel like I should be up to trying to pick up the dreams again.

Interesting notes: I saw a hypnotherapist a few times and the dreams reacted to her in specific by giving her a line of words, which she recited during the session, and it elicited an interesting reaction.

I also had a couple of lucid dreams.  One in particular, I think I met one of my alters.  I can’t be sure… but it sure seems like we’ve met properly now.  It was a relief to interact on a plane where we could see each other as separate entities not sharing a body.  So I have to get back to my working toward achieving lucid dreams more often.

Just a few fragments from last night:

At one point, I was with a psychologist I see, and as I talked, my voice changed.  I recall feeling sometimes uncertain as to why I was changing my way of speaking like that, and that I hoped it wasn’t that I was subconsciously, forcibly changing it to suggest the presence of alters.  She said, “I don’t like that change of voice just now.”, but I didn’t detect fear in her voice.  It was more as though she were simply bringing it up in conversation more concretely, that it seemed like there were alters trying to talk to her.  But they were not being forthright about their actions; that is, they did not announce themselves.  I recall watching a white clock as I heard them speak through me.

I was in the bedroom of a two-story house resembling my mother’s house.  It was dark, much as the room I stay in when I stay with her.  I recall looking at an email response from someone I was having an exchange with from an online DID forum.  We were talking about someone else’s behavior that we didn’t approve of.

He started the email with a few suggestive, specific notes that I don’t remember the words to exactly, but:

sounds like you were raped (talking about a post I had made or something I had said to him in which I was describing something completely unrelated.  But apparently he was ably to analyze the way that I worded it as indication of being raped/abused in the past)
quickly declare it (
or something else – I feel as though he was trying to get me to admit it somehow, or to retrieve it), [it] wreaks havoc on a body that remembers
I detect all kinds of rape in children (as his job?)

… [the individual we were criticizing] can’t get us/won’t get us here… etc etc.

Then I either woke up or am forgetting another large piece.

I have a displaced memory of being in someone else’s house, or in the downstairs portion of the house that I just described.  There was a male (red/light-haired, 30s, Caucasian, aloof) and a female (similar) that I interpreted as being in a relationship.  I followed the hall and went downstairs, where there were two cats that seemed larger than usual, each with a litter of kittens.  One of them, an orange/yellow one, seemed unusually large in particularly, took offense to my presence and I was surprised by this, as if I expected it to recognize me.  I had difficulty getting around it because it moved to attack while simultaneously protecting its kittens.  I avoided it successfully, but narrowly.  The man was watching curiously.

Then, upstairs, in the dining room (to the immediate right of the front door), I watched as a blonde, attractive young girl in her twenties came to the door and then joined us.  She was clearly a friend of theirs.  She accepted a gift of a pink, decorated bicycle.  The woman commented on the “bling-like” nature of the bike’s decorations, and everyone laughed.  I remembered thinking to myself about how I would like to see myself making remarks that made people laugh (I’m always doing this; spending time fantasizing in my head, lol).  The girl went outside, to the back of the house with the bike; looking after her, I could see through the windows into the yard, which had a bright, green lawn.

I next recall regarding the exchange between an older, authoritative man and a dark brown-haired, Caucasian young person, who was most likely female.  The older man was listening politely but he had an edge over her; he was some kind of authority figure.  A few of his friends or family members were around/behind him.  The brown-haired girl was imitating his air and explaining who lived in her house, or what they did there, and basically that she did not want him around.

He said that he understood but that he would be “going against her wishes for the time being“, and would be staying at the house for a short while with his family/friends.  She was annoyed.  I then saw past the walls of the house beyond the girl, who looked away in that direction, to find a sisterly figure who would be interested to know the outcome of her conversation with the man, I thought.

The house was suddenly outside and on a lower level.  There was a vivid, green yard hemmed in by dark trees that I saw, continuing to look in the direction that the dark-brown-haired girl looked.  The outside of the house could be seen; there were beams, a veranda, and it was daylight.  The colours were white and dark, navy blue.  There were two, slim women in long, white dresses that fit loosely and they were both blonde I believe (there might have only been one actually).  One of them said, “I want to be an adulterer,” to the surprise of her younger, dark-haired friend.  “For the (something), the (something), and the conversation, believe it or not.” she remarked offhandedly as she turned to circle to the other side of the house, back towards me.  She seemed annoyed that she would have trouble being as wanton with how she wanted to go about doing this “adultering”.

Then I remember following the path around the house to the other side, where there was another, grassy yard.  At the end of the yard, many people, including the older gentleman, were sitting around a table, drinking and eating casually.  They knew who I was.  They were trying to make sleeping arrangements.  It was suggested that I stay in a small garage/shop, outside the larger house.  The gentleman interjected, “But would Klayton be ok with that?“, gesturing toward me.  I said I wouldn’t really mind, looking back and forth between the garage which was nearby, on the left, and up at the back of the house, to the room in the uppermost right corner.

I was in a school that felt like my elementary school, but there were members of my college’s faculty there, including a dark-skinned, turban-wearing professor teaching Heidegger.  I went into his classroom for some reason, with my previous failures in philosophy (taught by another teacher) on my mind.  He seemed to recognize me only vaguely as we both met at the front of the class.  It was dim there; only white light through partially-covered windows was getting in.  There were students at all of the desks, which were arranged closely around us, facing the windows as well.  We had trouble remembering the name of the teacher whom I took philosophy with last time, but then I recalled, and everyone recognized him at his mention.

I went outside the classroom and felt that I was being watched, and that among the watchers was my previous philosophy teacher, Dr. Nicholls. There were many desks all in a line, closely jumbled together and a piano laid across a length of desks.  A young, black boy who looked to be under 7 years old was messing around the piano; it wasn’t clear that he had any formal instruction, but he was still playing very well, like some kind of virtuoso.

Then my vision was filled by an image of nature (mostly water), and I sensed the theme of “music to the greats“, where “greats” meant “great things in literature”, or something.  The image would change as the music changed, going through different examples of what this collection had.

It changed steadily to show themes and/or images from the distant past, such as ancient Roman or Greek times.  There were natural rock formations with water and other natural features, but they were somehow also part of a mechanical configuration.  Imagine two walls cut into the mountain, slamming together hard as if to pulverize whatever lie between the slabs.  There were intermittently-placed, sculpted parts embedded in the rock as well that were distinctly similar to either male or female sex organs.  I sensed some kind of commentary on what was on the minds of people back then.

But it changed again to show an elaborate, also rock/mountain-made, area constructed just for death by torture that was open to the public.  It was apparently a sport or some other optional activity, “voyeuristic torture death“.  One would bring their family members or friends with intents to die violently as they watched.

You think (something-something) is weird/bizarre?  Trying holding the hand of your loved one right as you/they slip away to die (a bloody, tortured death).” was something I discerned as I watched a scene:

There was a child and a mother, or some other adult figure or two.  They were stretched down over a steeply inclined slab of grey rock.  It was clear that beyond them and all around them was this elaborately constructed machine, embedded in a mountain side.  They were reaching to hold the hand of their other, adult friend/family member.  There were smears of blood on the rock around them, and others were busy going about their death nearby I think.

They let the hand of their friend go, and he fell fast to a small niche, was impaled on jagged rocks, and he cried out.  A portion of the rock wall came down hard and fast and he was pulverized.  I don’t remember this part very vividly, but it was clear that he died by either skewering, pulverizing, impalement, something like that.

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