Years ago I did some study on lucid dreaming, the art of dream awareness and control. The experiences were unique and fulfilling, but take a certain amount of dedication that's hard to keep up with if you're busy, and especially if you have to go to work in the morning. Still, if you are one like me who is fascinated by how the mind works, I highly recommend looking into it. There is plenty of info to be Googled on the web.

During the period I was heavily into this, my dreams became more real, more funny, and more bizarre. I was also remembering my dreams nearly every day. Years later and no longer making the effort, I rarely remember my dreams. But last night I had one that I thought was kind of funny. I decided to try to record some dreams to see if I can start it up again. I'll post this one here, I'll probably only post others that are off-the-wall or unique in some other way. What might happen is that these may get more strange and detailed if I can keep up with it.

Be warned, this is a dream so there's no real point or sense to it unless you want to try to interpret.

Fragments of Sunday 1/2/05 dream

I think I was back in school. The first visuals I recall seemed to be what looked like a high school lunchroom with round gaudy yellow tables with connected benches. I had a backpack and an old manual SLR camera with detachable lens₁. Most of the tables were filled with people I didn't know, but at a few were what I recognized as prostitutes₂. I wanted pictures of them, so I contempted taking them, but didn't want to make it obvious.

One of the girls recogized me and invited me to sit at her table. At her side was her mother who had what was probably a $3000+ professional digital Nikon SLR in front of her. I was under the impression that the mother did not know her daughter was a prostitute. I asked to see the camera and the mother handed it to me. I turned sleek looking camera in my hands thinking that it looked more like a video camera than a still one. Most of the control were hidden under sliding panels, I did not open them. Thinking I should be on my way to get some photos, I handed the camera back and excused myself.

Next thing I remember was looking at another prostitute in a hall lined with lockers. I was thinking about secretly taking a photo since I didn't want to be obvious, but figured it'd be difficult given the size of the camera. I put the camera into a backpack I had and continued down the hall.

Soon I was in a huge locker room with rows and rows of lockers. The place was probably about the size of a basketball court. I thought to myself, "Did I really put my camera in my backpack?" I looked and the backpack was empty. I ran back to the spot where I thought I put the camera away, but it wasn't there.

Some guy showed up with holding some device in his hands and asked if I needed help. I told him I lost my camera. In my head I was more bummed about losing photos of prostitutes, but did not mention anything. He turned on his device and led me down a row of lockers. I looked over his shoulder to see he was using a tracking device. He brought us to a locker where the tracking device indicated a bright white object₃ . The guy produced a master locker key and opened it up. I opened a small camera bag inside to find a manual SLR, but it wasn't mine. I thanked the guy who apologized for not being able to help further.

I ran around where I found a camera broken on the ground. It looked like mine, but on closer inspection I discovered it wasn't.

Someone else approached and said they found my camera and led me to another locker. At first I thought it was mine, but looked closely at the back to see it was a cheap generic knockoff, so I put it back.

When I got back to the main path between the locker rows, I spotted police officers, one of them holding what appeared to be a larger, more complicated scanning device. I ran towards them to ask for help in finding my camera. As I approached, I somehow knew they were looking for me at the same time.

I told them I lost my camera, and the first officer told me they were looking for me to tell me they don't allow cameras there. The officer with the device clarifed to say they don't allow old cameras there. I told the guy it was a old, but a nice professional camera. The officer replied, "It's a taco."



₁ Like my first "professional" camera, an old Minolta. I later owned a feature-packed professional Nikon and now tiny consumer digitals.
₂ They were Tijuana prostitutes, but during the dream I didn't think of them as being from Tijuana.
₃ The tracking device screen looked exactly like a heat-sensitive display used by the alien hunters in Predator. Of course, this would never locate a camera, but this was a dream.

d'Art... trying to interpret your dream..... you don't hate your mother or have latent homosexual tendencies do you??

you guys are something.. dreams ??
martin luther had a dream, so did kennedy !!
and what happened to them ??

I hate dreams.....