Another Failed WILD

Last night, I woke up and decided to give this another go. This isn’t the best way to go about returning to lucid dreaming (though I seem to recall having, if not a lucid dreaming, a fairly self aware dream… if that even makes sense).

I should be regimenting this. I should be journaling daily and nightly. Daily for the thoughts, feelings and recall of the previous night’s dreams, and nightly before bed to strengthen the mind for that night’s dreams.

When I was best at doing these things, I had a Mon-Fri, 8am-5pm job, and a mate who typically had a similar schedule, and so staying up too much past 11pm was unlikely, and so exhaustion wasn’t an issue, and neither was a routine.

Now, unfortunately, I close at work, get home between 9:30pm and 10:30pm due to inconsistent managers, and frequently stay up later than I should, and waking up after 5 hours of sleep and not having a blind fold, ear-plugs, and sensing the rising sun, doesn’t bode well for these kind of experiments.

In the meantime, my fails have been mildly interesting. Last night, I lay still (though mentally too alert and unable to quiet my mind) for about 20-25 minutes. I restarted my AlphaTheta Isochronic track, used my earbuds (ear-plugs with over the ears headphones seemed to work much better for me), and tried again. This time I did my utmost to quiet my mind, even if it meant falling asleep and failing.

Instead, my left leg would vibrate and then twitch. I feel if I could have just fallen asleep, this twitch could have been used as a decent enough anchor for pulling slightly back up into mild consciousness, and I might achieve my goal. Alas, it merely irritated me, and my mind started “thinking” and “judging”, despite my best efforts.

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Interesting Failed WILD

For the first time in a LONG time, I’ve tried a little closer to the full work I used to do for an entire “Wake, Back to Bed” and “W.I.L.D.” (Wake Initiated Lucid Dreaming). I will attempt to add the few remaining tools and tricks for a more complete attempt, and see how long before it works.

On a whim, I woke up, probably around 6am or so. It was completely dark out still, and the sound of an automatic timer aroma spray (which goes off every 30 minutes) in my room woke me up, and I had to use the restroom.

I couldn’t remember any of my dreams whatsoever, but my “sit up” pillow was nearby, I had my Isochronic Tones song at the ready, and decided upon returning to bed, I would do my utmost to make a fuller return to my former practices for lucidity. Though I didn’t take any if my supplements (as I had been taking them in the daytime for cognitive and mental focus already), and I didn’t have any Mugwort or Hershey’s chocolate, nor any 100% Apple Juice, I WAS determined to put on my headphones, and listen to my 30 minute “Alpha/Theta/Beta” waves songs which ends in sounds of nature, with a subtle, distant thunderstorm sound app (NatureSpace) playing overtop.

I laid partially sitting up, I focused on not moving a muscle. After a couple of times needing to swallow saliva and just get into that meditative zone, the song had progressed about 12 minutes. I can tell due to various cues. I knew I hadn’t moved and was tired, but I felt like I could probably lay there for forever with no success, but I allowed my mind to wander ever so slightly.

Though zero movement, no rolling over, etc., is important, there is a point when one toe should wiggle for a second. A pinky every other measure or so. Just enough to mimic actually falling asleep, at which points usually the brain starts vibrating those appendages and putting the body into sleep paralysis.

Though I did feel vibrations and heaviness in my left hand, and an overall tingling over my body, and even some hypnogogic lights, the brain, ever the prankster and tester of whether I’m TRULY asleep, busted out a new trick I haven’t had it try on me. I would dip slightly below the subconscious line and come back up, and this is usually when we’d start getting into the real fun and trippy stuff.

Instead, the brain decided to double check and make sure I was really asleep. I was ready for almost anything. “Voices”, a strong desire to roll-over, the infamous cannon blast. The tickles and sensations of a hair or bug occurred, no problem to overcome. But instead, it pulled a new trick. My body became VERY warm. I wasn’t angry or upset, but it felt like I had grown extremely mad, where the skin heats up. I’ve come to even find the actually physical sensations that come with anger fascinating, and though I wasn’t mad, I was growing uncomfortable.

It’s okay, I told myself, this too is very interesting. Let it run it’s course, I kelt thinking. I heard the 30 minute song finish, now it was just NatureSpace. I imagined myself in a cabin, on a sunny but rainy day. I’d rather “wake up” into that dream than just THIS room. The aroma spray went off again. I could tell how long I’d been laying perfectly still due to this 30 minute interval sound, and it wasn’t what Lucid Dreamers refer to as a buoy or anchor alarm, I was still perfectly attentive.

I’d risk allowing myself to dip below the line of consciousness, but when I’d bounce back, the heat would increase.

“God damn you brain!” I chuckled to myself. I had one a few blankets, but the house is always at about 60 degrees, and I *KNEW* I wasn’t actually hot.

Eventually, the timed aroma-spray went off again, I could guesstimate myself having laid there for an hour and a half. The heat and discomfort was strong. I was NOT falling asleep like that. Fair enough, you win this time, Brain.

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Sleep Paralysis, Ego Loss Hint & The Teenage Dream

As I am mostly over being sick, there’s little excuse for not having written SOMETHING about every night’s dreams, whether merely a feeling, emotion, image, symbol, etc., etc.

But there is something inherently easy about forgetting what we dream. Likewise, with the large, spore covered, and punishing mushrooms that I have had this last season, I have had more revelations and terror worth discussing.

But first…


I recently was attempting to explain how, while at the peak of my Dream Work, I would’ve PRAYED for Sleep Paralysis, as it’s the easiest jumping off point into Lucid Dreaming one can get. In the past, I have “woken up” (I personally view Sleep Paralysis as a temporary form of Psychosis, or “Waking Nightmare”, caused by a misunderstanding/mixed signal from the brain to the body), not able to move, and simply closed my eyes, breathed calmly, and imagined drifting into another dream, this time fully aware that I was asleep.

Once, in between Dream Work, having let the active Lucid Dreaming fall by the wayside, I had this happen, and was attempting to call out or make noise to wake myself. THIS IS WHAT NOT TO DO. Not being able to speak OR move, typically adds to the terror.

But I was somewhat prepared this time, having just recently attempted to comfort someone who suffers from Sleep Paralysis and confrontations with the “Fear Eaters” or Shadow People. I had a sneaking suspicion that by merely discussing it, I would end up causing such an occurrence, and sure enough, a night or two later, it happened.

I woke up in the pitch black of my room (possibly darker than it truly is, if I’m being honest). My right arm was half on and off the bed (and as any child knows, boogeymen LOVE dangling arms and feet, right?), and I could not move. The room was too dark to actually SEE anything, but I knew something was in the darkness, slowly advancing. Instead, I called upon an OLD friend.

One Shadow I had overcome ages ago and have used every since in my Dream Work when need be, is good ol’ Freddy Krueger. I thought to myself, “Well maybe I’m the thing that IT should be afraid of,” and I imagined Freddy’s glove on my right hand. Soon I was wiggling my hand’s fingers, and began chuckling cruelly in the dark. When I looked up, I saw flashes of light instead of an explicit entity, and the Apple logo flashed in and out of my eyes (and no, it wasn’t my computer or phone). And then I was in the dark, alone, and able to roll over and fall back to sleep.


I dreamed several nights ago, that two girls were talking with me while I was on the computer. The one, I wasn’t interested in (it felt like they were an ex), but the other was different and not similar to an ex of mine at all.

I’m uncertain now what we were discussing, but something provoked them to realize that I became curious about A girl and entered a search term to find out more about A girl. They didn’t know that the girl I was “Handle Searching” was my possible ex’s friend, but they were determined to grab my computer and see who it was that I was possibly interested in and searching for information on. Unable to hide the entire computer itself, I closed out the window, and unplugged my keyboard. They tried to grab it from me, but somehow they eventually realized they didn’t need the keyboard to see my previous search (can’t quite remember how they pulled that off).

From the other room, I heard, “Awwwwww!” And I just shook my head and laughed.


But not really.

I dreamed that I was grocery shopping, only needing a few things, and upon finishing, I couldn’t find my car. A heavy-set guy and a taller, skinnier guy, were kind enough to drive me around the parking lot to find it. One noticed I had grown nervous due to the other’s driving. I acknowledged that I have always had an issue with being a passenger, not knowing if whoever’s driving would be speeding up and slowing down upon approaching yellow lights or while other cars were approaching.

I woke up, and remembered this truism I have, concerning a lack of trust (too many times I have shouted and warned someone to stop, and sure enough, they would have blown through a red light while cars were coming, etc.). Every once in awhile, I even feel this antsy, twisting in my stomach when I’m driving. The anticipation of not knowing is generally what evokes it, “Will they/won’t they?!”

Of course everyone has a fear of loss of control.

STRONG psilocybin doses (generally 5g and above) give me the same sensation of being in a rollercoaster, slowly clinkity-clankitying up the tracks. The anticipation is what mortifies me. I enjoy a good clean rollercoaster! But I despise that anticipation.

The other day, I thought, well… I had enough for another “Heroic Dose”, but have decided the next time I attempt 5g or more, it will be on mushrooms *I* grow myself, as part of the fear is the worrying that these may somehow be poisoned (though I always wake up the next day feeling relatively fine). But the FEAR of not knowing adds to the experience.


So I figured I’d eat one small stem, with a tiny blast of cannabis. I listened to my own music from over the years, and had a minor revelation. I was unable to listen to a single song and not hear that I was somehow writing and singing TO myself. “But this song was about so-and-son,” nope, it was about you. “But this one was written because of,” errnt, wrong again, they were somehow ALL about me.

My imagination was in HD. I saw a dark, Tron-like realm in my mind, where the Black Knight (a variation of myself), adorned in slick, black clothing with neon yellow stripes here and there, down the pant legs, lining the collar, and so on. This version of me was clearly hyper-intelligent and had it all figured out.

I asked, “So then who is the Black King?”

“Saturn,” I replied, without missing a beat.

“Oh… but wait…” he shushed me and continued pointing out the lessons in my own words to myself. This was clearly the mushrooms, heavily muted by the low dose. Whereas the first time on these particular mushrooms, I was having open eye visuals of similar digital lights, showering me in symbols and imagery, this time it was “merely” my imagination, but ramped up.

He then smiled and turned to me, “I love you. Do you understand? You are never alone. I love you.” I giggled a little bit to myself. This was weird, but I was okay with it.

Then I saw I was up until 2am, listening to my own thoughts in my head for hours.


The problem with the above is, it gave me a false sense of security. So a few nights later, I decided to do two stems. At least one had a cap on it, however. I have done nearly 3 grams before the Heroic Dose at the end of last year, and had open eye visuals (though I hadn’t done them alone, in the dark, in silence). I had done less than 2 grams and gone to Disney World alone, for crying out loud. I could surely take two small stems and a small cap without a problem…

I meditated for 30 minutes, alone, in the dark, in silence, other than repeating, “I am the Oneironeer. I am the controller of dreams, and I give myself willingly and quietly to your instruction.” I did breathing exercises, and waited patiently, thinking nothing was likely to even happen.

And then I saw a single light, shining from what looked like a distance of a mile away, but approaching. Then I heard those constricting, creaking and flowing sounds and, dare I say, music. Like a vibrational hymn/hum, slowly melting down on my head and neck. I will never again do mushrooms inside of a closet. It’s too claustrophobic (even though I generally don’t have a problem sleeping in closets or meditating within the darkness of them — in fact, my previous “Sleep Chamber” was a walk-in closet). It becomes too… sinister.

I could almost feel the presence being amused at my previous mantra. I wasn’t trying to brag, I was just introducing myself and admitting, hey, usually I get to be in control of such things, but I give myself willingly… and then I chickened out and once again had to get up OUT of there!

I was determined not to text or visit with my room mate like I had to on the 5 grams. I did, however, asked if he’d mind if I walked his dog. It was freezing cold out, and I was hoping the cold, fresh air would help with the sudden tightness I was feeling from this mushroom once again barreling down on me. It helped, but it was too cold. I tried several times to vomit them up. I drank two bottles of water and tickled the back of my throat with my finger, to no avail. I’d gag, choke, get a rush, and feel a little better for a second, but had absolutely NO upset stomach. It was caste-iron, and promised to stay with me for the next 6 hours.

“I can’t!” I thought. “I can NOT feel like this for 6 hours, Holy God!”

This mushroom causes flu-like shakes, as if you’re trying to warm yourself up. So I tried embracing that. I took off some of my layers and got under the covers and tried watching something seemingly carefree. “The Toys That Made Us” on Netflix seemed about as harmless as a program could get. People just kept repeating the same phrases and it was impossible to follow. I was confused as to why I was watching a wink-wink, nudge-nudge, isn’t Star Wars so popular, special. The music began warbling behind some of the most unpleasant speaking/sounding people talking about stuff I couldn’t give two shits about or even understand. How the hell could the music be warbling?! That’s some next level shit! That’s only happened on the 5 grams! I’m pretty certain that, to some extent, this was becoming a trip informed and greatly enhanced by the PTSD from the experience of the 5 grams. If I had to guess, I had maybe 1.5 grams, less than the first night (which was just under 2 grams, and I hadn’t lost my mind in terror).

But there I was, texting a friend in another state, “Hey, mind if I call?” He seemed hesitant, but it was more than likely because he’d been going through a lot of problems and ordeals of his own, and was probably wanting to be left alone and feel sad. He said it wasn’t a good time, but then paused and asked…

“Wait, unless you really need to talk?” I said yeah, I kind of did, but then thought of all the things he was likely about to drop on me while I was in this sorry state. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Could I pass this off as just a normal phone call and just talk with something to keep my fears at bay?

“Nah, it’s okay, I’m sorry if I bothered you,” and the phone began ringing.

We talked for a short while and he began unloading and I stopped him for a second.

“I’ve got to confess, I tried doing a little bit of those mushrooms I told you about, and I was wondering if you could just talk me down a little?”

My buddy is an experienced psychonaut, but I think it’s safe to say that even he would admit he’s gotten “lost in the sun” a few too many times. If things were ever “all there”, he hadn’t been 100% in the entire time that I’ve known him, so I was still worried that this was a bad idea.

“Hey, hold on tight,” he said, and I became calm. “To the string of your kite.” I knew he’d have to make this weird, but it still somehow worked.

I joked, “Hey, you got any more of that hold on tight to the strong if your kite stuff?”

We talked for an hour, and he opened his heart up to me about the stuff he had been going through, and I’d have to occasionally reel him in when it became too hard for me. I was giving Shamanic/psychological advice that I would never have been able to give straight, as I’d have gotten too short with him.

At one point I said, “Buddy, this world is dark, and it’s cruel, and even though we’re hundreds of miles away, there’s something comforting in knowing that your unique light is out there in that darkness still shining. It’s one of the few beacons I can still look out to and feel buoyed, and it would be crippling to me if anything snuffed out that light.”

He began crying and thanking me so much. He knew that if he were with me, he’d have had the rest of the mushrooms and we’d have laughed, cried, hugged and despite it, he said he could feel the heart-connection and showed appreciation for my friendship.

Finally, he did have to go and finish up some chores, but I was feeling a little better. I wasn’t in the clear yet, but I had a lot to think about. Things I had brought up to him were revelatory concerning my own life. One thought struck me and I began crying hard.

Finally, when I was feeling a little better, it dawned on me. I needed some Andrew W.K. Though songs like “Get Ready to Die” or “Long Live the Party” seem counter-intuitive, the man’s sheer, guru meets mentally disabled, passion, could blast through anything. I sat up in bed, snuggled with pillows and let AWK disintegrate the fears. Soon the volume and intensity became a bit too much, so I listened to soft, soothing Bossa Nova music and lulled myself into virtual sleep, as the 5 hour mark approached, and I felt safe to turn off the lights and go to sleep.


I felt that I may have ruined this kind of inner-exploration for myself, due to my failed Heroic Dose, and would now have to live in fear. Before I had even finished, I knew that I would be taking the last (huge) stem and cap (with a barely opened veil, and I’m experienced enough to know what that shit means — it means it has psilocybin and spores COURSING through it, as none shot out to seed the ground or surrounding mycelium) OUT of the the trash, where I had placed them in it’s bag.

It won’t be causal, this mushroom doesn’t know the meaning of the word “recreational”. There’s no “fun” with this batch. And I’m convinced if I ate this last remaining mushroom, it would be somewhere between this last experience and my previous Heroic Dose. In other words, I would be seeing and hearing the entity(s) that this mushroom would be bringing, whether they be my own inner psyche, The Higher Self, dissociative identity disorder brought on by the psilocybin, an alien intelligence, or WHAT HAVE YOU.

But my dream last night did give me hints. My fear of the *anticipation* is a HUGE part of setting the mood for what follows. The first time I took almost 2 grams of these, my previous, harmless experiences had informed my trip. When I waited and felt it come on without a deep meditation (in fact, I was watching YouTube clips before I decided to sit in the closet the first time), It was like walking into an amusement park ride. Sure it was still the Tower of Terror, but there was none of the rollercoaster like ramping up and up and up. That anticipation is what kills me and ruins the entire trip.

So, I’ll either split this with my buddy the next time I see him, or I simply won’t do these alone, in the dark, in silence. Then, once I’ve made my own again, knowing they’re safe as can be, and I’ve recreationally done maybe 2 grams with a buddy, then and only with a trip sitter at the ready, will I dare another Heroic Dose. And I will likely do 7 grams so there’s NO slamming on the breaks, like I tried with the 5 grams.

I know the point is to “lose all sense of self and the illusion of control”, but up until that point, I need to have more control over the set and setting.

Posted in Brothers, Doppelganger, Dream Description, Fail, False Awakening, Freddy Krueger, Heroic Dose, Lucidity, Nightmare, Sleep Paralysis, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

“Family” Fun & Strange Lucidity

Too Many Puppies

I dreamed that a strange mixture of alive and dead family families, as well as complete strangers, a friend, and… The Weeknd(?) were all together (at a house/location I don’t recognize) for some sort of family get-together.

Unfortunately everybody had a dog it seemed, and all of them were running a muck. I tried being cordial and social, and only really remember fixing a ceiling fan from making a weird noise. I adjusted something on it and said something stupid in either a British or German accent, “I think I’ve found ze defect,” people laughed.

I found some excuse to get out of the room, and found myself just wanting to write music. I was obsessed with a beat. After awhile, however, I heard my friend saying something loudly, “He’s prolly in here playing with his lil’ balls or something,” and I groaned. My grandmother (dead) and mother were out there for god’s sakes man, ugh.

Strange Exploration

Later I had a dream I was coasting above a ghostly mass of peoples, who were just idling through their commutes, almost in a kind of dance. It was spectral in appearance, with auras and colors coming to life, and not “spooky” (though to some extent, I suppose it did look a little bit like Disney’s Haunted Mansion meets Koyaanisqatsi).

As I flew above it all, the sensation of flying was enough to bring me “online”, and I realized I was dreaming. The dream was too interesting to interrupt, however, so I continued flying through what did start to appear to be a sort of sad, Limbo-like world.

I landed, and walked up to a shore-line. Across the waters I could see a shining, Utopian metropolis, and so I flew to it instead. Once there, the temptation to slip into “the mix” and forget I was dreaming was very strong, so I did (what I believe was) my first actual reality check of this year. Looking at my hands, I sure enough couldn’t get all 10-fingers to hold position/number.

I began walking around, and started getting some odd looks. I could tell this wasn’t going to end well, but figured I’d just go with it for awhile. I walked into what was a sort of high-end department store, and pretty quickly was asked by the manager (interestingly, played by the teacher from Stranger Things) to come with him. I was starting to lose lucidity, simply because I really hate being profiled or having others assume wrong-doing on my part, so by the time we stepped into a side room with another female associate, I was too consumed with where the dream was going than remembering it was just a dream I could end anyhow I wished at any time.

“What do you have in your pockets? Huh? What’s in your jacket there??” He asked, unzipping and pulling at my clothes.

My own items, a pair of headphones, old gloves, nothing of interest, fell out. Then suddenly a large woman’s purse still with a price tag came falling out too.

“What the hell do I need with that?? I didn’t steal that!” I said.

“Uh huh, sure!” They replied. I thought this Utopia was a bit cliche, but an interesting visit nonetheless.

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Dead Loves Ones, and Mind Gaps

Just as I was starting to get better dream recall and even a brief lucid dream, I have caught the flu. This has given my dreams the smack down. It seems to me, the first month I had started this blog, I also got sick, causing a similar stepping stone (no, there is not a connection between lucid dreaming and catching colds or the flu, but likely several things conspire to keep you off a path of this kind of Dream Work).

So, we work/fight through it and do as best as we can, until once again, BAM! The dreams come back online. That having been said, I do recall some interesting facts about last night’s dream that are worth recording (and to be fair, ALL dreams are worth your recording, it strengthens dream recall, even if all you can remember from the night before is feelings or emotions).


My uncle, who has been passed away for some time now, was a very large man. He was tall and had a big frame, and always a big eater (he coped with his past by eating, while his sister, my mother, coped with alcohol). In my dream, I was stranded off an exit, only about a mile or two from where I actually wanted to be. I decided to suck it up, and start walking. Here’s where the logic (and possibly the flu’s influence) gets fuzzy, but welcome to dreams, fool.

My uncle was a good 7-8 feet tall in this dream, and though hefty, was more of a jolly giant hefty than debilitatingly obese. I do not remember if he was driving and got out of his truck to help me, or if he was just jogging down the interstate, but I do remember him offering to let me climb up on his back, and that he would piggyback ride me to where I was going. I said I felt a bit old for that, but he said nonsense. So he jogged me a ways, and I stopped him at a point saying, “This can’t be healthy for you, let’s just walk together the rest of the way.”

Later, I was at my exit. I was (and by the way, I’m remembering yet another dream AS I’m writing this, so yes, Dream Journaling is a MUST for Dream Recall, do it. Do. It.), I was possibly meeting an ex (yes, an ex at the exit), it’s fuzzy. I do remember trying to explain “my day” to her, and first I said, “So, I saw my uncle earlier,” to which she replied, “He’s looking pretty bad.” I said, “Um, no, actually, he was looking surprisingly strapping. He jogged me here, in fact.”

I then made an effort to recall the connective points in my day that led to my being stranded, but couldn’t. I tried remembering if my uncle left his truck on the interstate, or if he had been vehicle-less too, but couldn’t. I then said, “I have gaps in my memory… that’s not… that’s not good.”

Never making the connection that I had been, and was still, dreaming. ::sigh::

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Superman’s Pal, Jimmy Olsen

A few nights ago, after purging a great deal of toxins out of my body, my dreams came BACK online in full effect. Strangely enough, the next night SEEMED uneventful, until I remembered I not only had a briefly lucid dream, but also that I flew. But first, the eventful night…

I dreamed that a group of friends were having a strange sort of intervention for Superman. We wanted to get right down to the bottom of this superiority complex of his. How could one possibly be so advanced beyond the rest of mankind and NOT view them as ants, I asked. I don’t recall lots of memorable characters in the room, but I knew that Jimmy Olsen was one of the people, I just never SAW Jimmy Olsen. Superman admitted, sometimes, just once or twice, he’s pondered what the planet would be like without humanity ruining it and causing each other so much suffering. I “ah ha!”, and Superman seemed hurt.

Much later in the dream, I was walking down the street and I got caught up in some kind of parade. Debutantes and cheerleader types were everywhere, and I just wanted to get around it all. Every turn, you guessed it, the parade followed. Finally, somehow I got mixed up IN the parade, and two girls were snobbishly annoyed at my existence (to be fair, I was pretty sick of the parade and them). My taking wrong turns somehow lead THEM to take a wrong turn, and we ended up load. We all thought we could cut through to the other side of a warehouse, by walking into it (though I was just trying to get away from the mob). I didn’t like that they followed me in, because I could already sense their anger with me and didn’t want further repercussions or problems.

They went their way in the warehouse and I went mine, but soon I realized I was VERY lost and began to panic. Something about the girls made me think they could turn malicious, and not knowing where they were only added to my concern. After feeling like I had merely made my way into the deepest part of the warehouse, I became very scared. I needed out.

I pulled out my phone, and went to the contacts. Sure enough, there was “Superman”. I called him, very sheepishly.

“Hello?”, he answered.

“Um, look, I know this is ridiculous, and I’m sure you’re busy,” I could hear crashing and gunshots over the phone.

“A little,” he replied, not sounding mad, but unable to hide the truth of the matter.

“I’m lost as fuck in the warehouse district, and uh… I mean, whenever, it’s not super pressing, but…,” I shook my head, embarrassed. “Could you come get me out of here?”

And then it hit me. I was Jimmy Olsen.


In another dream, I had a rare book filled with drawings and signatures by renowned artists of Batman. Vince Vaughn (and I haven’t the foggiest idea why he made an appearance in my dreams) said, “I’m actually a really good artist,” and grabbed my book. He began doodling a large Marvel Comics Starlord sketch in my book. I was mortified.

The End.

My Old Boss

In another dream, my mature, well-endowed, fiery redhead boss (from over 5 years ago!) was teaching some kind of class. I cannot remember the circumstances of what happened, but she at some point feigned falling or an injury, and fell into my arms (yeah, yeah, I’m just relating the dream, okay?).

As I helped her up, she kissed me on the lips and whispered that she’d like to see me tonight. I said sure.

Silly and uneventful dream, but what was interesting was, I woke up and thought, “Whelp, that particular dream/fantasy isn’t gonna happen,” and fell back to sleep.

I then dreamed that my old apartment was now even closer to the beach (right on it, in fact) than before and the “mother-in-law” type home just off the main house on the property that I had lived in alone for a few years was now partially attached to the main home, which was MUCH fancier than the real place I had lived.

I wanted to explore, but knew that I had to get ready for my “date” with my teacher/boss. The dream was continuing, but I kept thinking, “She should really come here, these digs are sweet!”

Alas, that was the end of the dream. I appreciate dreams interconnecting later, even after awakening. I would like to strengthen “intention” and the likelihood of occasionally more cohesive “storylines”.

A Dream of Flying

Lastly, I dreamed that I was in my current abode, shared by several roommates. They would likely mock my dream life and psychonaut tendencies, so when it suddenly occurred to me that I was dreaming, despite regular, somewhat low ceilings, I decided to fly around the house.

“Do you see? It’s liberating to be able to do this from time to time!” I exclaimed, as I swooped around and scared the hell out of everyone. Unfortunately, in my excitement, I forgot that I was dreaming, and thus eventually returned to the ground and void of whatever next dream may have come.


Lastly, I had a rather boring work dream, where in the dream I fixed some problem nobody understood or could remedy.

Posted in Comic Books, Dream Description, Flying, Lost, Lucidity, Sex, Uncategorized, Work | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

HEROIC DOSE Report vs. Dreaming


Some people claim cannabis enhances their dreams, but the vast majority agree, it’s a dream dampener. When one is attempting to squash their dreams, as much PTSD stems from an uncontrolled dream-life, then this is a nice way to do it. But know that you are always dreaming, even if they’re sludgy, almost completely forgotten dreams.

Many times when we act “out of character”, we say, “I don’t know where that came from, that wasn’t like me.” Suppressing dreams and avoidance of emotions can lead to what appears like a break from our normal selves, although suppression is often an important tool. Take for instance holding back from road rage, acting violently (to ourselves or others), and so on. The anger may “subside”, but the rage just reluctantly takes the elevator down into our unconscious minds. Sometimes we act these fantasies out in dreams and are horrified upon awakening. Or, as another example, holding back sadness for appearances sake. Sometimes this is a good thing, but I’ve began crying in a movie theater just from hearing Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song”, unable to explain why exactly.

What goes up, must come down. And sometimes, what goes down, WILL come back up.

And while I still extol cannabis as a pain reliever, eye-opener, and when a sativa, a mild psychoactive that can be combined with a nice coffee and help one think more actively and creatively, I have been utterly and completely remiss as a result of using it as frequently as I have in relation to my efforts in Dream Exploration. But, now it’s time to face my fears, chew some bubblegum, and kick some ass.


The first time I tried a low dosage of Psilocybin mushrooms (about 1.5g), the intense, Sativa-plus qualities blew me away. Colors were more vivid, geometric patterns appeared in carpeting and clothing, and my imagination became ultra HD. I had a previously described spiritual awakening which caused me to understand my old beliefs system was causing me an unnecessary amount of guilt and shame. After going through much, I was tired of peoples’ judgment, and began to search for “another way”.

A mere 1.5g changed my life.

Since then, I had grown my own Golden Teachers and B+. On almost 3g, I had open eye visuals, verging on the spiritual, however I also understood that I had been feeding my mind previous to the trip with Sacred Geometry, examples of Metatron’s Cube used in laying out paintings of Buddha and Renaissance paintings of Christ, and so on. But I had yet to try Terrance McKenna’s “Heroic Dose” (5g or more, alone, in the dark, in silence).

So last year, I finally tried it. First, I tested out the technique with 2g, only to discover this was a much more powerful mushroom I had gotten ahold of. I sat in a darken closet, and it felt like I was on the Tower of Terror. I was prepared for the lights and geometric patterns, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the tingling presence of “other”. I was okay with the large drops and intense heights, as I had previously done 8 packets of cleaned Morning Glory seeds, and while doing intense breathing exercises, found myself feeling as though I was shot into Heaven upon the inhalations and dropped to the depths of Hell with the exhalations. This wasn’t nearly as bad.

Soon, it became a bit boring, and I was exhausted (one disadvantage to this particular mushroom, it caused the aching of joints, and vibrational sensation that the MG seeds had caused, which is akin to having a timed flu, physically speaking). I began drifting in and out of consciousness, but psilocybin doesn’t allow me to sleep (not sure if anyone could hit the hay on this particular mushroom, as the person who got me them admitted, “This was by far the strongest mushroom I’ve ever had.”). So, an interesting combination almost accorded and I wish I was at the height of my Dream training, as shown in my past posts here.

Through the wave of digital, interconnected lights of the mushrooms, I saw what appeared VERY much like a real flashlight having been turned on inside the movie theater of my mind while I was drifting off to sleep to the patterned geometric patterns of the plant. It seemed to be several yards away from me, and it flashed on and moved, but like a newb, I opened my eyes. The digital lights were still there, of course, as the trip was going to last about 5 hours, but the “flash light” disappeared. I can only presume this was a hypnogogic light produced by the brain upon drifting into sleep, but upon opening my eyes, it obviously disappeared.

I won’t even get into the Revelations that the mushrooms have shown, we’ll try and stick to the scientific side of things for now.


I thought I had seen it all. I’ve faced dinosaur sized alligators in my dreams, fully lucid, I’ve had sleep paralysis, and brushed it off by simply closing my eyes and swimming into a lucid dream, and I’ve had at least one dream versus a “shadow person” (or fear eater, as some call these archetypal visions) and embraced it, knowing even paralyzed, this merely meant I was dreaming. On everything from 1.5g to 3g, I have done Reality Checks and it always held.

Nothing can prepare you for 5g on a supercharged psilocybin mushroom, in the dark, alone in silence.

For the record, you cannot overdose on Cannabis or Psilocybin. In fact, I’ve done a bar crawl and gotten alcohol poisoning, and vomited bile until 1pm the next day — but after a “binge” on either of these two drugs, upon awakening the next day, generally feel BETTER than waking up on a normal day. Some adventurous souls have done 30+g of mushrooms, and claim there’s a “break point” where you’re almost not even tripping, but super focused and attuned. UCF Fighters claim micro-dosing psilocybin gives them an advantage, as they feel they can almost predict attacks coming at them.

BUT, if your family is prone to psychotic breaks or if you are going through a massive amount of stress, I do advice a trip sitter. There’s a Chicken or the Egg debate regarding psilocybin and cannabis, regarding people with mental illness. Sometimes, they can help with major depression (shown in clinical studies and various test subjects), but sometimes… well, when jumping into the deep end of one’s own subconscious mind, in the Marian Trench depths, “Here There be Monsters.”

I sat in the closet, and the show began INSTANTLY. Little to no “come up”. The moment my eyes shut, I was bombarded by lights and a face that appeared like the Sun itself. It was so “in my face” and close, it was jarring. The sense that this was NOT me in control was alarming, but the point is to see what’s all in there and let it guide/instruct you. But some teachers are crueler than others, and some people have bigger “demons”. This felt like God’s headlights barreling down upon me.

Soon, I was dropping from a great height as a house-sized, black Hefty bag, filled with what was likely deadmen’s bones was falling with me, but it was upon a rollercoaster track. I was just free falling beside it. Skulls and bones popped in and out of the bag, as if shifting rather than ripping through the bag. The bag moved like a random, algarhythmic nightmare. Then I was dropped into a sea of churning meat, as if it was pumping out of a cosmic meat grinder. It was so in my face, I couldn’t handle it, so I got up and turned on the lights.

This is what Terrance McKenna would describe as “fighting the mushroom”, and much like Jacob, you’re likely to at least break a hip if you try and fight God. Is there the risk of hurting one’s self out of fear? Yes, THAT is a possibility. Or, like the inexperienced person who unknowingly eats a strong batch of cannabis cookies, you might THINK you are dying, and though you are not, calling 911 or running outside, could prove VERY embarrassing and expensive. Fortunately, nothing quite so bad happened….

I got into bed, wrapped myself in a red blanket (which made me laugh, because it appeared alive and elongated, almost like Doctor Strange’s cape), and stared at the room. What was going to happen? The sensation was EXACTLY as being in a lucid dream. I expected to see miniature elephants parading around on my floor, and I was okay with that. Something amusing, I was okay with. Something silly. Please be silly, I thought. I imagined what I looked like, curled up on my bed, looking around my room waiting for something to happen, and suddenly, I SAW myself from the perspective of about 7 feet in the air above my bed, looking down. It was so utterly vivid, it was almost panic inducing. I did a Reality Check, deciding in advance that if the RC failed, I would still treat this as reality. This. Was. Not. A. Dream.

All ten fingers accounted for (never mind that they were stretching slowly down my blankets), I then looked across the room and saw all my spiritual trinkets and protection and started laughing at how fool-hearty I was, for not applying or using ANY of them during this. I grabbed a lanyard that had an I.D. badge that merely said, “Guest” and put it around my neck to hold onto what I could feel was a growing loss of my own Ego and identity. I sat in the middle of the floor, I tried to think of some mantras or phrases that might protect me from what I could feel coming. It was as if the very Walls of Reality were shaking with the weight of several, sentient freight trains, and all the tracks met in my head.

Again, I had already given up on the darkness, now I had to be around people. Fortunately, my friend was in the next room, unaware of what I had undertaken. ::ring, ring:: “Hey, you over there? Can I come over? Yeah, I may have done something stupid.”

I came into their room, and sat down. I felt the carpet to attempt to ground myself. It did no good. He was watching a cartoon movie, and I remember thinking, “It’s one of those… those things that tells people stories… a, a MOVIE!” His tiny dog sensed what I was going through and came up to me. I pet him and he licked my face. I wasn’t upset with the animal, but his breath triggered something. Now when I closed my eyes, I could see, through only the thinnest of Confessional Booth like hatch-screens, Cthulhu. As vivid as when I opened my eyes and saw my friend. Tendrils and tentacles, wriggling every which way. I told my friend not to let me fall asleep. If I thought this was bad, I definitely didn’t want to know what I’d be in for if I closed my eyes.

Then, a sort of ::CLICK::. Who was I? If I wasn’t me? On invasive, synthetic drugs, people had become FACE-EATERS, for God’s sakes, what was *I* capable of? It felt like I had dropped into my own BIOS, and was rebooting. But who would I be when the Operating System loaded up? What viruses might I have contracted? What programs would be running?

I asked my friend if he could whip up a make-shift straight jacket out of belts. I fully understood the reason for straight jackets in that moment. I wasn’t so much worried I’d become violent (though all bets were off as far as I was concerned at that moment), but he reasoned with me. I lay in bed, and tried talking it off. He asked me at one point if I think aliens really exist, and I was able to confirm, they certainly do, and I’m seeing them then and there. I closed my eyes, and now a giant NAGA was behind the same cross-hatching, and behind these entities was nothing but SPACE. Later, I felt that these were living Jungian Archetypes, and I was actually peering into the Collective Consciousness.


I asked that my friend play Enya. It drastically improved my perspective and calmed me down. Now, even though I understood, FIRST HAND, what the phrase “going around the bend” meant, and even though the Angels I was seeing/feeling felt as much like Angles, even being “Touched by God” was better than being just looked at by these other beings. (Fun side note, “Silly” means Divinely Touched, and I got what I wished for — ie., careful what you wish for.) Enya’s “Only Time” began to warble and echo, but it was still comforting.


When I looked around in my mind, it felt as though Religion, societal rules, and all the basic concepts of the Super Ego had now also disappeared. Those Walls were all that kept the vast depths of “what is out there” at bay, and even though “out there” is where I wanted to explore, I was now petrified of it. It’s like being afraid of heights (which I am) and being held on the edge of the moon, pointed towards the Earth, and being dropped. Will you fall? Will you float off?

Most of the rest of the night was just dealing with physical bouts of nausea and a strong mental break down. I knew who and where I was, I just wanted to be DONE with the trip and sleeping. That wouldn’t come for another couple of hours.


Waking dreams is essentially psychosis. When we dream, our minds turn off our bodies (if we’re lucky) and we experience madness, daily. This is the mind’s way of processing all the information we SEE in a day, but do not necessarily acknowledge. Those with imbalancements experience Sleep Paralysis and “waking nightmares”. Some sleepwalk. Some suffer from schizophrenia, and hear voices (often, malicious ones). These are MEDICAL conditions. This is science. Psilocybin causes a sort of form of psychosis, a waking dream or nightmare, depending upon how you allow the trip to go. I fought it, and it went poorly.

I woke up earlier than I expected the next day, felt fine, and went in to work.


NOW, when the boss is barking at me, I just smile slyly and stare him right in the eyes. There are far less things to be afraid of when one has stared Cthulhu in the cephalopod face and yet lived.

Also, though it didn’t quite hold in the face of all my running away from the trip (that there’s no running from), knowing the lower levels of one’s own identity is a pretty nice plus. I am NOT a face-eater. That’s good to know. I am not an inherently violent or dangerous person, again, that’s a positive. But what’s more, when I was lapsing in and out of remembering who I was, and why “this” was happening to me, I would remember, with a bit of anger that I had forgotten…


“You are the Oneironeer. You are the same person who has fought and faced many inner demons and turned nightmares into empowering, lucid dreams.”


Do I ever plan on doing this again?

Of course I do. But first, I have to return to my “kingdom” and clean house. Time to reclaim my dreams. I have forgone cannabis, soda, processed meats, McDonalds, and have a renewed focus. But more on that another time.

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