What does being a high school RISEout have to do with anything?
Ha! both RISEouts. Well I knew that about Scout so I would remember in my dream. Same way I always remember he has a girlfriend. Thatâs why I canât bang him. Iâm not as cool as you guys. I graduated at the top of my class. Though once when I planned to skip school for the second part of a day I wrote about it in my journal. I was taking an AP biology test that morning and I got this message that my mom was in the office. I had no idea why so I was all worried that something really bad happened. I couldnât concentrate on the test. Afterwards I went down there to see what was up and she had come to the school to tell me not to skip school! Well, I was so upset with her for a) reading my journal b) runing my test and c) embarrasing me by coming to school that she had to take me home anyway. Furthermore I was so mad that when I got home I went to my room and climbed out the window and started walking down the road towards Scandia (the backwoods). Well she ran after me and then paid me $100 not to run away from home. God, Iâm such an extortionist. I spent the rest of the day driving around in the sunshine taking photographs.
Miles-I donât have foraging dreams except during mushroom season. But once there were so many mushrooms of so many varities in my dream that I knew something was wrong and I stopped in the middle of pulling out my plastic collecting bags from the car and was like, âGoddammit this is just a dream!â
I think it is awesome that weâve got this whole dream tribe thing going on.
I think thatâs pretty awesome too, Penny.
Dream Tribe Rules!
I graduated bottom of my class.
I would have failed had I not received a 120 percentile on my enlgish final senior year. when asked how, i informed my sanctimonious teacher that âI studied for 30 minutes at lunch.â no lie.
I had a dream about high school the other night as well. sitting in a classroom we were, the fellow students and I silently attentive, a teacher at her desk, head down, hair in face, eyes supposedly glued to a textbook. another student who i did not have a conversation with during my 7 years (2nd thru 12th grade school, an average of 100 students per class) started to laugh softly. the teacher chastised him rather vehemently and ordered him to write down on his demerit sheet âattempting to incite revolting behavior.â he responded, âno, I think Iâll write -frugal laughter in an attempt to alleviate the unwanted effects of hellish environs-â
she sat, steaming quietly. the entire class became tense. apparently we all knew that he had just declared world wars 3 thru 30 and she was sharpening her nails and preparing for the dig.
i started to laugh. and the whole class started to laugh with me. and i said âSEE, she canât even look up!â and we all stood up and crowded around her, laughing and patting her on the back in a conciliatory fashion.
i then leapt through a window and grew a beard - two things i do as frequently as possible in dreams - and began to wade through a sea of young children singing âaya-aya-aya-YOOOOOOOâ and when i hit the yoooooo a guy I also never talked to in highschool however spent a bit of time with through a friend of a posthighschool friend sneaked up behind me and YOOOOOOed in harmony and unison. i looked back, and he walked backwards back to his -pack- of friends. this happened a few more times and then, not trusting his motives, i accosted him, which resulted in he telling me he wanted to get to know me better and thought i had done something quite remarkable.
hm. iâve also recently had a dream about chasing a socerous wicked vizier looking villain through an indiana jones-like underground trapfest - i failed, perished, combusted. i did not rescue the princess, she did not rush into my open arms. i learned a bit about how much fun i can have while failing.
i love that beard dream, stricken!
i did a similar thing in school⌠skipped everything but tests. that worked until college, when homework/projects started counting more⌠i think the only time i did homework in high school was pre-calc, and that was only to get away from everyone else at lunch. ok, fine, so that teacher was nice and i didnât want to disappoint her. she got me! iâm a tool!
prior to last night, i thought my dreamer had dried up:
i came into a well-lit but windowless dorm room. it was lit with sterile white lighting. there was a guy i knew from high school there, with a country-ish guy i who assume was rooming with him. the floor was covered with clothes and books. at the side of the bed, ryan and the other guy were tinkering with some lever. sensors were strapped on the other end. it looked like they were trying to duplicate this guyâs work. (while youâre there, check out the glorious future.) but ryan was just pushing on the input end instead of swinging a pendulum. i noticed some volumes of books with âwarâ written on the sides. ryan said they were for a class. i started reading them and was warped into the story. some soldiers (ww2-ish) had made some hotel/club in the bombed-out ruins of a city. they were having a grand old time with some anorexic-looking prostitues. the boss came out and yelled at them. there was still fire in the background. then the hotel became my last apartment, now a dorm room with a bunch of comp sci geeks. iâve just awoken and some girl wants to play a video game with me. linus torvalds is on the master terminal or something at the foot of the bed, messing with the network (everything is running linux, of course). the game is like adventure puzzle mario kart, and the intro screen looks like something from apple IIâs (anyone remember those?). one of the high-achieving kids from my youth (you know, piano prodigy, fastest typist, good grades, korean, etcâŚ) was doing basic math homework (??). i remember that i need to get to class, so i look through my backpack, but the books i need arenât there. somehow i have all the books iâve ever used in my whole school career in this backpack, but my calculus book isnât there. suddenly itâs night time, and someone has delivered groceries to me? apparently two my cousins. i notice that a bag of bread rolls is looking a little sparse. then i catch the younger of the two picking at a bread cup (?). i get exasperated at him and he just smiles.
then, iâm talking to my mom and younger sister somewhere, about how unrestrained male energy was burning the world down. when i woke up, i thought about the little gnostic bits iâve picked up here and there. donât they say that sophia tried creating without logos and it didnât work and she accidentally made a crazy blind god who in turn made the crappy world? if so, i wonder: was there a time when women ran the world and it got screwed up, and now men have been running the world and screwing it up their own way? or maybe they just wrote the story with the woman at fault so as to communicate the pattern without crossing male pride.
oh yeah! does anyone have half-dreams when youâre half-awake? my sister is having a girl, and this morning when i was waking up, i half-dreamed she was a year or two old, and was growing long, pretty hair (blonde, like my dad and me). then some weird rap song came into my head, warning me of how she could wear it like some elaborate mohawk/top ponytail (as though thatâs a bad thing). i didnât write the lyrics down before i dozed off again.
Eric-I used to have half-dreams like that all the time. Usually in the form of a voice in my head.
Last night Urban Scout was in my dream again. He had come to visit for a few days but I was getting frustrated because all he was doing was using the computer and we werenât doing anything fun.
I think this represents my own frustration at using the computer all the time rather than being a commentary on Urban Scout. Iâve had other dreams where Urban Scout is visiting but we arenât doing what I wanted. In one he was hanging out with my best friends and not me and then he had to leave abruptly and in another I only had a short time with him before he was leaving to visit an uncle and while he was still here everyone wanted to build quinzees but I was sick of building them. I wanted to build âsnowboatsâ instead so I was pissed off.
Maybe these dreams represent my frustration that Urban Scout (and all you other rewilders I would like to hang out with) lives all the way across the country. Itâs like we are friends, but we arenât real friends. So im my dreams heâs here, but heâs not really here.
A voice? Awesome! To the voice: A/S/L? Culture? Accent? Notable speech characteristics?
Also, âtheyâ say us âADDâ people tend to get sucked into computers easily because its like a quick fix for our info-starved brains. dopamine
I had another liminal experience Saturday. I had just come half-awake when I suddenly experienced being shot to pieces by an A-10. You know, the straight-winged tank-killer airplanes with a huge FUCK YOU gun in the nose? Forearm-sized exploding uranium bullets at a rate of 6000/min? Yeah. First time Iâve been spooked by a dream in a long time. Then, there is the shooting in Blacksburg on monday. The next day, Iâm out on my bike and there just happens to be this A10 circling erratically over my town at low altitude. !!! As soon as I stop to watch it with some other people it straightens out and flies away to the southeast. After that, I had a bunch of synchronicities around A10s. Makes me wonder: it has been a tradition to have a military aircraft calendar every year, even after I realized that they killed people. Was there some period of my life where aprilâs jet was an A10? I need to stop, my connectorizer is about to freak out⌠GAH NO I need to get it out: my number in sports has always been 10, when I was a kid I made up an imaginary machine-brain virus called A10 (I still have the diagram in my journal), gahhhh.
Iâm going to go dip myself in butter and run around naked now.
woah, eric! you do have some serious A10 issues.
on a lighter note:
i remember that in the world of GI Joe toys, the good guys had an F-15 and Cobra had an A-10. So you could never really have any kind of dog fights.
I dreamed that my spirit guide was a goose and it gave me a fancy silver fork as a present.
My âspirit guideâ (not a fan of that particular little cliche but meh) is CoyoteâŚwhich is kind of fun considering I live several 1000 miles away from any (which is probably part of his sense of humor 
)âŚbut I mostly speak with the fey (nope, not tinselling critters or shrunken ugly oiks, nor âellegantâ types or fluffy bunnys neither ) who live as deep echos of the oldest ways and who are part of Faerie (another word with a lot on nonsense attached to it by fluffy newagers and HREs alike 
)
Coyotes are good for but a few mischievous things. Sitting around doing nothing, chasing tail, and eating massive amounts of good food.
They also make excellent liars and storytellers. âThis one time another coyote was wasting, uh, spending all his time driving everyone around him raving crackers, much like I am now, except one day everything went to hell and this coyote activated and saved the whole world by trading the sun a bit of moss for the celestial jade lollipop of vulgar monster smiting and taking a really smelly dump, kinda like that one you keep complaining about, right on top of the chief of⌠of⌠indomitable evil, paralyzing him and saving his helpless tribe from their imprisonment in the mountains of incessant obnoxious stomach pains. Really. So respect me. And pass the hornet soup.â
GREAT THREAD, PS!
The last few posts seemed to head off in a different direction that have nothing to do with dreams, so I moved them to their own topic here
A dream I had
I went to sleep after a few minutes lying there after watching Uzumaki (Japanese horror flick), Dancer in the dark and then a short called cat soup. As I passed into sleep I awoke in my house and was suddenly filled with intense memory of a sociological, economical and ecological collapse. I was not at all surprised and my house looked amazing since it looked like it was really being of some use to people because my dad being a survivalist was helping people out and utilizing the convenient field behind my house. For some reason this alone made me ecstatic and though IĂ¢ââââ¢m quite a quixotic, though reclusive person when it comes to meeting and spending time with a lot of people in general. I guess you could say itĂ¢ââââ¢s because of my romantic ideals reinforced by Gogol and Dostoevsky on what a human being is.
I walked through the house mobbed by people that were my friends saying they wanted to go to the beach. The beach in real life was 60 miles away from me I took there offer as normal and I started to get exited. When I went outside I received sort of a shock- more so than any before in the dream- because I still had a small grip on how my life is today. It was a beautiful, though filled with wreckage panorama. We went around to the side of my house and we all picked up what appeared to be profoundly constructed surf-boards made from scrounged household items. Though there was one made from a long board and that was the one I picked up. They were all painted on and I suspect that it was I who had done most of it. It was mostly oils and spray paints and I can almost recall the putrid smell of the paints that had manifested themselves on the Surfboards. The images were artistic portrayals of the wreckage I imagined that the rest of the world was experiencing after Americas downfall but a few were of Nature of the coast untouched by society, therefore unpolluted by the downfall.
We began walking and I was a little mystified of where the beach was. I forgot to mention that as I walked along my smallish town had grown quite a bit and though there was a lot of wreckage a train track that went parallel to the beach on a metal bridge still seemed to operate. So it appeared this intensely different society still had a grip of its old ways. I went to what appeared to be the old park but further than that and at about a quarter of the way in there was an ocean. I suppose global warming had caused water to rise. Most of the water looked clean and foamy, so I deduced that the wreckage from buildings, like suburbia ghetto, some of the historical district and thank the Lord my decrepit school, asbestos an all, haha.
When I hit my first wave of the day, realistically the first wave of my life, surfing began to fill like something IĂ¢ââââ¢d done a thousand times; and in the dream it turned out I had. After hitting a bunch of waves me and my friends sauntered back to our Ă¢ââÂŹĂ
âcommuneĂ¢ââÂŹĂ I did some chore or my part including carpentry and some crop management. I went to bed fell asleep. In my dream sleeping was kind of odd but I didnĂ¢ââââ¢t happen to have a dream in a dream, which might have been too much.
The next day was very similar but more commonplace. I seem to have merely forgotten waking reality. I went outside as before and muscle memory took over. This time only me and my little brother went surfing and I canĂ¢ââââ¢t recall why none of my amigos, compatriots if you will, were no shows. When we arrived at the beach it was clear skies but I had never seen waves so high. They were nearly hitting the train bridge I had previously mentioned. So my brother and I decided to climb up on the bridge and jump off with our surfboards as the waves crested a few feet under us. As I jumped for some reason this wave was so far below me it was unlike the one before it. This frightened my so that I dropped my board I had been holding to my feet and grasped a rail of the bridge.
My brother attempted to help me up but couldnĂ¢ââââ¢t so he ran to get help. I seemed to be hanging there for so long that time just seemed to stop and every second burned my arms till they were screaming to let go. I finally through willpower and prayed managed to gather the strength to hoist myself up enough to gain a new hand hold. This hand hold happened to be the closer train rail and though oddly enough I didnĂ¢ââââ¢t hear it a train was only a few yards away. As it was about to sever my arm I let go and fell. Time stopped. As I looked below me toward my eventual destination the waves we had frozen. I came barreling down and hit the crest of a strangely still wave and fell into it. It was like there were invisible walls making the wave hold its shape. As I hit the water I awoke to the true reality to my brother saying it was time to get up for breakfast. I was the happiest IĂ¢ââââ¢d been in months
Last dream i rememberâŚ
i step trough Forest
every tree contains dead Deer
Wolf follows my steps
as a child, every night was full of nightmares. No exception. I learned myself to wake-up from my dreams. THis means to become conscious while sleeping/dreaming. After a while i did not need to wake myself. I was ready for my nightmares i think. I no longer woke up dying. Instead i woke up sleeping. Understanding i was dreaming. At first i went with the flow. Like watching my subconsious. THen i started to understand that the dream could be directed. Not like machine are directed, but more like magic. Fluid brains. Fluid thinking. I flew and had to make weird spiralling moves to keep me conscious and to not fall back into subconscious dreaming again. At this point i no longer had nightmares. I dreamed, and i understood i was dreaming, and there i explored myself. After a while, much like âam i the man who dreams he is a butterfly, or am i the butterfly who dreams she is a man?â anecdote, i woke up one morning. I went to school. I had class, talked with people. Consciously and awake. And then I awoke again. Confused. Blurred lines of reality and consciousness. One day i remember the first time i closed my eyes, awake, and yet enter a dreamlike trance. I could sit eyes closed and experience the world around me. Vision and all. Sometimes these things still happen. I think stress and regulations have taken much of this away though. Also im not really seeking these things out anymore. Im not sure why.
Personally, aiâve had a lot of crazy âdream in dreamâ dreams, sometimes lasting for a dozen or so layers and incorporating ones inwhich ai am hallucinating vividly (in particular, ai remember hallucinating a cascade of greens and blues on my wall). One such dream, every few times ai âwoke upâ ai would be right where ai actually was (in waking reality), but a bunch of my friends were sittling in the chairs arround me (that night, ai slept on the ground in my living room) and each time this happend, they would be in different chairs and say something along the lines of âhes awake, heheâ or âman hes soooo stonedâ. For some reason, ai also couldnt get up. When ai really woke up, ai wasnt sure ai was awake at all and got really scared at random things (like the digital clock). Ai decided to either go back to sleep or âgo back to sleepâ, which ever it was, and hope aiâd eventually wake up. Ai did the next morning, having not dreamed further. Crazy eh? Even crazyer than my mugwort dreams. Something about the nature of reality, aiâm thinkin.
i recently dreamt of:
digging up wild onions
stumbling upon a pile of already-dug wapatoes
watching a red-headed woodpecker land on a guyâs chin and peck at his nose; no worries though, we both laughed gleefully at it!
two dreams:
i dreamed i was fighting a goose. it nearly got the better of me until i grabbed it by the throat and swung it around over my head and broke itâs neck. i remember it being really heavy. i woke up screaming âthe goose is killing me!â.
a couple of weeks ago i dreamed i was roller skating down a dirt path with this girl i go to school with. i donât talk to her much now but i remember she had a big crush on me when we were younger in middle school. i teased her to where she often broke down in tears because i guess it made me feel awkward or something, i dunno. anyways, i feel really guilty about it now, near the end of my senior year of high school, and i think it might have something to do with it. in the dream, we were surrounded by little green, knee high bushes. it felt like we were in a relationship and i think we were breaking up or something but i didnât feel that sad, just really bleak. she said she was sorry and handed me a little note about the size of the palm of my hand that had the words ânatureâ and ânurtureâ on it. then i woke up.