[size=100]~ 16th to 17th June 2006 ~[/size]
[size=184]The Academy of Dreams[/size]
[color=#cc0033]Wake–Induced Lucid Dream[/color]/[color=#cc0033]False Lucid Dream[/color]
I WILD into the streets of Campos do Jordão [color=#3366ff](the mountaintop city in Brazil we go to in winter because there’s a music festival that rules)[/color]. I’m at the residential neighbourhood, now what to do? I walk down a bit, but then I fear I’ll lose my lucidity or wake up and I won’t have done squat.
I then walk in front of brick wall and stick my hand in my pocked, wishing for a chalk. I get something that feels plastic, but I know that’ll do. It’s a little tick, that overall looks like chalk. I draw a rectangle on the wall and summon a door there.
What I get is not properly a door, but rather a wooden rectangle floating in the middle of a rectangular hole that appeared in the wall. I then look to the grass in the ground and try to summon a tree.
Whenever I try to summon a tree, I have that feeling, I don’t know if any of you can relate to it… Feels like something, some kind of energy or awareness spreads from my feet to my upper body while I try to visualize the tree growing—and watch it growing in front of me. I want a fruit to lose my lucidity, but I only get… Macadamia nuts!
Ah well. I get one of those nonetheless, look at it and say: ‘You’re soft.’ Then I eat it. Hmm, it is soft! It tastes like one of these chocolate candies with hazelnut! Smells sweet too. I want to eat another one. And so I do. Oh, my, these do taste really good!
When I get done with them, I look at the door. Right, I had to do something about it… What was it again? I walk to the door and demand:
‘What’s the meaning of life?’ My accent sounds particularly astralian [color=#3366ff](I’m blaming this on Soul)[/color].
No answer. I demand louder:
‘What’s the meaning of life?’
This time, the door opens. A small, ginger–haired lady smiles at me and asks: ‘And what makes you think the dwellers of this home know the answer to that question?’ That makes me feel embarrassed, I laugh and look in her eyes.
‘What is this place anyways?’ I have a false memory of having seen it a lot and always wondered what it was about.
‘Oh, this is a dreaming school! Come in!,’ she smiles again, ‘Do come in!’
I walk in. There, I see a couple of guys building a ship. They’re both quite away from the ground, building the deck’s floor. One of them looks like Atheist, only maybe a bit chubbier, and the other looks like a guy from school, Barba [color=#3366ff](not the one from my grade, the one that left school last year)[/color]. They both smile to me and I walk to them.
I look from the ground to them and ask why they’re building a ship. Barba–looking DC asks: ‘What? Aren’t you going to greet us properly?’
Right! I jump really high, and when I’m about their height, I lie my arm on the deck of the ship. That stabilyzes me in the air. I then try to shake their hands, but everytime I do, I feel I’m going to fall. Ath–looking DC looks at my hands and says:
‘Say, you’re lefty, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, how do you know?’
‘You’re doing it wrong… Whoever told you was probably righty. Here, you need to sustain yourself on your right arm, and greet us with the left one.’
I push myself up, and while in the air, I switch arms. There, now I can greet them! 
I also see somoene else inside the ship [color=#3366ff](Note to Q: that guy.)[/color].
[size=9][color=#ffffff]. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .[/color][/size][size=100]— snip —[/size]
I remember that, before waking up, I was fencing with the Ath–looking DC, but I don’t remember that part of the dream anymore! 
