I was definitely lucid dreaming last night. I experienced how long an unpleasant dream can be, when you're aware of it and trying to escape it.
Several iterations of social exercises occurred. I took a keyboard to farmers market and played the two songs I know, and John Chernoff came at laughed at the idea of a piano but wouldn't play. I was in a house that had flood damage (no water now) and I had to grab everything that left. I was in the Goodwill in Santa Monica looking at the entire rack of Leopard Print high heels and Kim Kardashian was telling me Paris Hilton used to be HER bitch, not the other way around. I am guessing my brain just lives in scenarios and feels them out until they're boring, and I usually forget all but the last one. Then I tell it to JT and we compose some metaphorical lesson from the tiny detail I remember, which is as accurate as every action in life is a metaphor or a finger pointing to some greater concept itself.
In between every scenario and often during I tried desperately to wake up. I pseudo woke up a lot of times and fixed the things that were bothering me - covered myself with the blanket, walked back down the hall to JT's room (I left earlier frustrated because he was playing snarky puppy really loud and it bled into the room where I was sleeping and I always feel bad when I make a hasty scene that causes drama, to keep my ego alive) and we made up, and every time I was able to rest in the comfort of everything being well in the world. Then I would feel the couch still under my back and feel so helpless, frustrated. This felt in a hazy, distant way. Like a fever dream. I begged myself to open one eye, to snap out of it. I would use a lot of strength to open one lid for a brief second, but it was over powered by my stupor. I willed an arm to cover me up with the fleece blanket at my feet. It flung itself, unbending like it was frozen in the Yukon (I just read To Build a Fire) but I think I had success. JT kept walking by and I made verbal contact with him, thinking much more than I could manage to say. All that came out (I think) was "baby" to which he replied "hey baby". I can't be sure any of this was happening. Or if it was just my mind appeasing itself, more hypotheticals. I thought, surely this is what it means to lose your mind.
In the last dream I was so frustrated. So over it. These dreams seemed to last hours. I finally said to myself, if this is lucid dreaming, why don't I just fly? Why don't I just end this dream? I was really cold at this point, and desperate. Previously when this has happened, I convince myself to fall deeper asleep. I'd been resistant to sleep and resting all day because I had been really sleep deprived, and any sort of non-moving resulted in a cloud of grogginess. Even here in this dream I wanted clean sleep or awakeness, nothing in between. So I set myself to waking up. I felt a subtle buzzing my brain as it moved to a higher frequency and pitch. That last part sounds ridiculous, but I recognized it from one candy experience where I was paying very close attention to my entire body, and felt distinctly when I was high, the moment it happened, based on the way my brain was buzzing. The way an air conditioner or refrigerator buzzes. I finally awoke, and trusted the consciousness instantly. I shot down the hall so fast, trying to escape from that room and that ensnaring state. JT's bed was warm but he wasn't there to tell about the dream.
I think it is merciful to forget your dreams. I think if I had to hear myself talk and reason all night without the suppressive check of physical reality, I'd be a coon eyed insomniac.
