|Graham Ellis's wondrous creation|
It's a pre-sleep quest I've invested quite a lot of pre-sleep meditation in; to no effect.
Every time I wake up in the middle of the night, having noted some new dream or some recurring theme or a new player within the dream, I've 'remembered' that I forgot to ask, "What dream planet is this?"
And nothing much changed last night, woke up, argh, forgot to ask; woke up again, after reinforing the question once again, my eyes flashing, as they do when I try to hang onto the dream state while conscious; and got a ride in an enormously-powerful massively-spoilered muscle car like the Plymouth Superbird dragster version above. Actually, I've dreamed about this car before - it nearly killed me as I crossed the busy street in this city dream.
Seriously, I'm not even sure if I'd nodded off again, but it was very vivid. They introduced themselves as the Galactic Federation of Dreamers, which I didn't like because it sounded like a blatant rip off of the Galactic Federation of Light which was so let down its naively obeisant messenger Blossom Goodchild on October 8th 2008.
Prior to the night's dreaming, I'd pumped myself up to get an answer to the simple question, "What dream planet is this?" I gave myself permission to use all sorts of extraction/erasure techniques to force my hand, I was prepared to do 'just about anything' to achieve my simple dream goal. Needless to say, a superfast car chase and a declaration of who they were was all I got for my campaign. Dreams are structurally resilient against our conscious intent or petty demands, it seems.
Oh, and later in the dream something called a HACKER MACHINE was delivered to the Group - apparently it's not the software that does the hacking. Whatever that means.
DAY LATER UPDATE: thanks to all who've responded (on and off-post) with their suggestions, but it happened on it own, last night. I became LUCID within some other dream about some other topic. I started to make the people in the dream question their dream world. I suddenly noticed something: the floating ships. And I remembered them from another dream because they moved like hoverflies. It was a city scape. These ships were patrolling the sky: they were long and thin like dragster cars, had two small steering sails at the front and two massive downward facing engines at the back, a man was stood within a glass dome atop the rear, steering each. There was a digital sea, rolling like a real ocean but OBVIOUSLY fake i.e. made of flat non-reflective square pixels.
I kept on at these people, showing them the beach and making them see the ships in the sky, "Look, look! Oxford isn't by the sea!" but I wonder if this reflects more my concern with the invented financial world that opposes my Free Planet, than an actual interaction with 'the real participants' of the Galactic Federation of Dreamers.
When I woke up from this dream, in the dark, there was a distinctive scent of candyfloss or perfumed sugar on the air. There is NO WAY such a sugary powder (it smelt powdery) would originate in my bedroom.
After my jog, this morning, I dislodged a short black hair from my head as I was applying the shampoo. This hair was double thickness, that's why it attracted my attention. It seemed to have a root at both ends. It was less than 1cm long and kinked into a U shape. I even checked my running cap but the velcro hooks at the back grip onto a strip made of white plastic U shapes.