Hello again, .71. Last night, I think I had my first lucid dream. I think I read a post with similar themes to my dream here some time ago, so I'll post about it here.
I was walking in the woods with some friends. I don't remember anything about the friends, apart from that I felt nervous with them. We came to the brow of a hill, and people started to disappear. I looked around, and the dream cut away to the inside of a sort of compound, with metal-lined walls.
In the compound, people with little pink hollows where they should have had eyes roamed the corridors, stumbling, flailing. Lights flashed. I walked through a sort of rubber corridor and met a beautiful girl.
The girl was about 19. I knew immediately that the girl had been carrying out experimentation on those unfortunate enough to wander into the woods. She was sadistic. But she was beautiful, nonetheless.
I felt calm, wonderfully, suffocatingly calm. The girl laid me down on a cold metal bed and asked me to remove my clothes. She explained to me the human need for permeation, saturation, penetration. She then drew a neat line from the top of my forehead to my clitoris with a knife. It didn't hurt; my only thought was that I would be in trouble with my mother if a scar carried across to the real world. I was aware that I was dreaming, but not quite aware that what was happening was not quite real.
The girl opened me up and slipped inside, and I lay, happy in the thought that I was filled with her, that my blood and organs and pallid brain were keeping her warm and safe. I knew now that it was certainly a dream, and I thought back to my days of paranoid delusions, when I would be caught by mother babbling about the CIA in my sleep. I worried that perhaps I was making sounds in my sleep. But the dream didn't end.
The girl spoke to me, resting her brain against mine with a tingling warmth. I can't remember the words, but they were like sweet nepenthe to me. The girl had made so many people suffer what looked like unimaginable pain, but she made me feel special. Perhaps she had given them what they truly needed, too, and it simply looked painful.
I woke up, but rolled over, fell back to sleep, and immediately re-entered the dream. We stood up and walked around the room, the girl all the while speaking to me. Then, alas, I woke for the last time, and got up, and got dressed, and went to school.
As I replay the dream to myself in my mind's eye, I paint two red lines and a dot onto the girl's face. I smile to myself, and carry on with my day.