Lately I’ve had weird lucid dreams that begin with me searching for a power source to power my dreams. This one is particularly confusing but they usually involve impossibly infinite energy solutions which actually work in my dream.

I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling and in the spot where my fan usually is, there is a rather large speaker cone. Similar to that of the opening scene in Back To The Future.

I hear an ominous booming loud voice, similar to James Earl Jones but with a hint of the satanic qualities of Trevor Strnad’s low vocals in his voice.

The voice says to me: “If you go to sleep, you will never wake up. I won’t let you” 

This used to be a reoccurring dream of mine, not one I’m particularly fond of. 

It seems the more shocked I am when I awaken from a dream due to death, or odd dream content like deranged murderous celebrities; the greater my memory of the dream.

When I wake up thinking “Fuck, that was messed up” I remember so much more detail then the harmless dreams, they just slip right by so remembering detail becomes much more difficult.

Also; after a year of crazy dreams I find myself unhappy when I have a boring dream. I can be bored on a quiet day at work, bored of studying but why should I be bored in my sleep too? That just sucks. I suppose being bored beats dying though!

After being asleep for approximately 25 minutes, I’ve just woken up after a short, boring and rather uneventful dream.

This dream began with myself riding around a large structure, circular and tall (I can’t see the top of it) on a tricycle, It’s just after sunset, dark but not pitch black and everything has an orange tinge. After finding some people I recognize to be friends and furthermore band mates (3x males with long hair, also orangey in colour, mustaches and aviator sunglasses.) sitting around a caravan and in a tree. Across from them are 2-3 others, all dressed in black, sitting in camping style folding chairs (as opposed to wrestling style)

I don’t know when exactly, the timeline on this dream is sketchy but I head into the tower/structure thing, it’s a mix between Robot Hell from the Futurama episode ‘Hell is other robots’ and Mewtwo’s island tower from Pokemon: The First Movie.

The spiral staircase in the center of the room is somewhere between the two in the locations mentioned.
I remember an angry (rather large) Kangaskhan, with the baby in the front pouch throwing something at me, rocks I think, hiding behind the spiral staircase. I exited the tower and went back to the campsite.

After returning to the group of orange haired individuals I announced to them I was joining another band, lead by a guitarist who was present, who once again had long orange hair, aviators and a mustache. We then proceeded to walk about 10m to the side of the caravan to an area that resembled the massive screen in northbridge where apparently they were showing our new music video.

I then awoke, sweating profusely as I realized I forgot to turn my fan on before I went to bed.

Boring, I know. At least I got a solid 25 or so minutes of sleep and didn’t die!

After being linked to a video on Facebook of Jim Gillette’s Vocal Power, all of my dreams for about a week ended with this dude just walking in to my dream out of nowhere, doing this EXACT power metal scream exactly as you hear it in the link.

Everyone around me then proceeds to choke as if the air has become poisonous and then drop dead to the floor. Not all in unison/immediately but over the space of what feels like 5 seconds. I then felt a push in my celiac plexus, a really strong forceful blow and then wake up.

Dying in my dreams rarely hurts but I’m always aware that I died for whatever reason. 

The second part of this dream was particularly odd and as it may have been a second part of the first dream or very close to it, I was still aware that I was dreaming.

It began with me sitting in a free standing bathtub in the middle of a very small room, about 3m x 2m, I can see down and I’m wearing a long sleeve black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the boxer shorts I wear to bed. My legs are hanging over one of the long edges that runs parallel to the 3m wall with my knees on the edge of the bath, there is only about 5cm of water in the bath tub. I seem to recall knowing that the bathtub has four legs raising it off the ground however I don’t remember actually seeing it, possibly a portion of a memory from before I went to bed.

The walls of the room are an off white, almost a pale grey, it reminded me of the bathroom in my house as it is today. There is no door to the room, but an open doorframe in the left corner of the wall I was facing towards, to which I can see another room. 

The other room is odd, as I’m sitting in the bathtub looking up on a roughly 45 degree angle, I’m looking towards the roof which is a light pea-green colour and has an odd number of ceiling fans. There are (I think) 14 ceiling fans, none of which have lights attached, they’re all white too.

Sitting on a brown leather couch (briefly) a man (6’, dark brown hair with a redish tinge, white button up shirt and dark pants) stands up soon after I “awaken” in the tub and looking angrily moves quickly into the small room I’m in. His movements are blurred and look sort of like Nightwolf’s shoulder charge move in the early Mortal Kombat games. The water in the bath is now 85-90% capacity of the enormous tub, around 70-75cm deep I would say. The man then grabs my shirt in front with both hands and pushes me under the water, holding me under as my eyes close. I don’t fight immediately, it takes some time to realize what is happening, so I kick him off. I kick hard enough so that the man is outside the small room containing the bath.

I then see the man’s face, it’s very familiar but it takes a second to realize who it is. I grab him by the shirt and push him down onto the couch and hold him there until I can put a name to the face. It’s Bryan Cranston, the actor who plays in Walter White Breaking Bad and was Hal in Malcolm In The Middle. He has a beard that is a little thinner than I expected and a look in his eyes that I can’t describe in any words other than unstable. I yell at him ” YOU’RE FROM MALCOlM IN THE MIDDLE” as for some reason I feel he will take offence to the fact I recognize him as the dad from Malcolm In The Middle and not from Breaking Bad. I punch him in the side of the face and his beard begins to thin out or dissolve or just fade out or something because after 2-3 blows to the side of his face, he has no facial hair and his skin becomes grey-white and has large cracks much like a salt lake. He then pushes me back into the room where the bath is but as I fall into the bath, I take action.

As I’m aware this is a dream I decide to change something, I change the room that the bath is in to a different one (white double doors in the centre of a room with pale green walls), and quickly to another (don’t remember any details), then back to the original room except the doorframe is now in the center of the wall and there IS a door. I then delete the door. After sitting in about 10cm of water in a bath for a few moments trying to think of how to get out of this dream, I attempt to wake myself up by pinching/slapping myself awake and as this doesn’t work I decide to just put the door back on the wall and allow myself to be drowned.

The doorframe returns, I see the roof in the next room again with the multiple fans, and note a second time how odd I found that. Bryan Cranston then runs back into the room with the bath, pushes me under the water and I immediately awaken.

Dying in my dreams isn’t always as immediate as this one and sometimes I’m not sure that I actually ‘died’ in my dream but other nights it is pretty obvious because I get shot or stabbed or whatever.

Yes, dying in my dreams happens very, very regularly.

This happened a few nights ago so I may have forgotten a few of the details:

The dream began with me drunk driving a car (through a suburb that looked similar to Trappers drive at the Whitfords avenue end, large brick walls with overhanging trees and the view of the rooves of houses) felt like a commodore size car like the one I own except that I was driving from the seat directly behind the drivers seat in the back, there was a yellow steering wheel attached to the back of the seat and I could accelerate and break by stretching my leg under the drivers seat to the pedals. 

It was early on in this dream that I realized I was dreaming due to its bizarre nature, so I let the car spin out of control, once it came to a complete stop I opened the rear door, closed it (the weight of the door felt similar to my commodore again) and opened the drivers side door, sat inside, closed it and continued drink driving knowing if I managed to crash my car and die I would just wake up.

This is all I can remember of this portion of the dream, it may have continued to the next one or they may be independent of each other. Difficult to tell a few days after the dream.