Mock-exams: A Hypnagogic Nightmare

Yes, I have given this post a title. And as you all (=myself) know by now, this indicates the presence of elaborate dream journalism. As per usual, this is true and all, but in this case it just so happens I was completely baffled by the partly horrifying and partly awesome visuals I got while trying to stay awake during mock-examinations.

As I was falling in and out of the early stages of hypnagogia I was experiencing tons of altered realities that built on the classroom situation I was currently in, as well as completely other short-stories, most of them things I can't even  recall. One of the things I do recall, however, is holding my exam paper up in the air in an attempt to remove the temptation of resting my head on my hands (This was what I did IRL). As I did this, however, the paper suddenly seemed to fold back. Not anything special though - just the way it normally does. The thing is, however, that it was so vivid, so remarkably realistic and believable, which in turn caused me great confusion as I opened my eyes and saw the piece of paper in my hands, still standing perfectly upright. At some point, it seemed I could not separate dream from reality. And so when my desk suddenly vanished, leaving all papers and pencils floating in mid air I was almost positive I was turning insane.

Falling asleep during class, especially when the classrom is perfectly quiet, makes me feel horrifyingly "exposed", especially since I'm a victim of brutal hypnic jerks. If someone laughs, I'm always a 100% sure it's because of me, even though it's usually not.

And now, especially after these incidents which took place during exams on both wednesday and thursday, I've been getting really intense visuals much more easily in almost any kind of situation. Thursday night, for instance, I was at a MGMT concert in Oslo, and I found that the music was very much enjoyable if I only allowed myself to close my eyes and watch the visual journey that unfolded itself on the back of my eyelids. I thought to myself "So many great images and ideas for any kind of art; films, images, photos, or sound - all but figments of my imagination". I guess this must be the reason "imagination" is derived from the word "image".

As a sidenote, I have started taking multivitamins and omga-3 capsules just this week. This could, or could not have had an impact on the intensity of closed-eye visuals, especially those of the hypnagogic state. And let us never forget, placebo is a hell of a drug...

Studying biology at Ray's house together with Emil. The crackling fireplace gives the room a warm, calm atmosphere. Pan flute remixes of old classics are playing on Ray's computer, "Time to Say Goodbye" at the moment.

Recently, my behavior in the mornings, just after waking up, has been very strange. I tend to have horribly bad judgement when it comes to getting out of bed. This morning I was clenching onto one of my alarm clocks like a sacred sacred relic whilst laying perfectly still. I had already been halfway across the room to turn off my alpha-alarm clock; The one that will unleash a shit-storm if not disarmed after a couple of warning clicks. Its wall of pure, brutal sound will hit you like a hundred tons of porcelain falling out of the cupboards.

The thing is, I have no idea how I ever ended up back in bed - I would have never done such a thing I were thinking properly. I even remember telling myself before falling asleep the night before that I should treat my alpha alarm clock as the last chance I have of getting out of bed if I'm supposed to make it in time for school. It is like being under the influence of some drug. Makes kind of sense actually, considering sleep is like an addictive drug for me. I show many symptoms of a hypersomniac, but then again, who doesn't?

Oh yes and incase you are wondering; I have no dreams that I can recall. No title, remember? Just me shooting the old bull...

For the purpose of separating the dream-journal content on my blog from all the other bullpoop, I've decided to refrain from giving a title to any post that does not describe a specific dream of mine. The reason for this is that I need to write on this blog or do things everyday that remind me of dreams and dreaming. My ultimate goal is to have lucid dreams every night. So now you know.

This day was nothing special. I was very tired all day; not especially strange considering I didn't make it into bed 'till the wee hours of the morning. Couldn't really remember much of dreams due to the small amount of REM sleep. I'm having mock-exams all week and I've already managed to fuck up the ridiculous, yet slightest routine I had. [Looks at watch] And here we go again...

Slamming Into the Ceiling

I slept over at a friend's tonight. After passing out to Mortal Kombat 1 in the wee hours of the morning I was brutally woken up my aunt calling me. By the time I had shaken myself out of the coma and recognized what was actually making this god-awful noise the phone stopped ringing. I sat up for a moment before being dragged back into sweet sleep.

It must have been subsequent to this incident that I had a dream where my big sister had surprisingly returned from her vacation in Brasil. I was really stressed about the situation because I hadn't have time to clean the house prior to her unexpected, premature return. Then I remember stopping for a while to think about the illogic and unlikely situation I was in. Additionally, I had already had a dream about the same situation some nights before. Then it dawned on me. Maybe it was all a dream!

I did two reality checks instantly because I wasn't actually sure if it was a dream or not. First, I tried to poke through my hand. It didn't go quite the way I had imagined it to go whenever I had been thinking about it in real life, but sure enough it went sort of halfway through. Both excited and a bit skeptical I decided to do a second reality check. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to imagine levitating or flying. Sooner than I knew as was flung into the air, slamming against the at least 4 meter high ceiling above me. I was now lucid and very excited.I must've gotten too excited or something, however, because I can't recall anything else after that, except for thinking to myself that I should not get excited because then I would wake up. Ironic, huh?

It was kind of like what happened to those kids in that movie "Weird Science".
Copyright to Universal Studios 1985, I guess.

I've only had two lucid dreams before that.
The first one, in which I met and conversed with my father who had recently passed away.
The second one, in which I did lots of stuff like flying, but barely remember any of it because I got carried away and lost lucidity some point along the way.

Out of the total three I'd say my first one has been the most successful.
However, this was the first "Reality Check Induced Dream", as opposed to the other two, in which I at some point just understood I was dreaming. Experiencing and getting a confirmation that Reality Checks indeed do work for me was really important.

To those of you wondering why my aunt called me so early in the morning, she believed that there had been a break in at my house.

This turned out to be yet another morning of laying perfectly still, trying to remember the images of a dream erasing itself faster than the phallic doodling on your previous math test.

What's even better is the fact that I inadvertently managed to scrobble nearly a hundred plays of "Nature ambience" to my Last.fm library after falling asleep to it yesterday. I should consider making some playlists on spotify that only last for about an hour. I mean, seriously... Who the hell wants their top artist on Last.fm to be "Nature ambience"? In my case placing it next to Jean Michel Jarre and The Human League. Sure they did a great job on some of those field recordings, but they're just not comparable in that sense.

Liber Somnia

"The book of dreams", or something to that effect.

I guess the guys over at Latin Club haven't really come up with a name for "blog" just yet, which is why I'm going with good ol' "book". Actually it's more like a journal, wouldn't you say? The blog, I mean. Books are usually divided into chapters and sections.

This, on the other hand will be more like a playground to satisfy my rare, but nevertheless increasing need to slam down on virtual pieces of paper some of the nonsensical vomit pertaining to the nighttime activities of my brain. Reader discretion is advised.