What do you do after waking from an amazing dream Veeky Forums ?

That is seriously one of the most depression moments of the day. When you have an amazing dream, where everything is perfect and you actually believe in what's happening. And then you wake up, and you have to accept your dreary life all over again. Those few seconds of bliss followed by the cold truth of reality. Sometimes I'll lay in bed for a few minutes, trying to recapture the dream, as if I could still live it if I just focused on it hard enough. Reminds me of this line from The Great Gatsby

>...I was reminded of something — an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man’s, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.

Does anyone else have this experience where you know you're supposed to say one thing in a dream, but you choose to say something else and wake up whispering it to yourself?

usually I try to write it down.

I dreamt there was a serial killer in my old school, and a bear came out of the fucking woods. A poacher shot it, accidentally killing a young girl, so the villagers beat him to death.

Wait, I should clarify why I said fucking woods. See, the villagers were chopping wood and having a fun day in the woods, while I was on the deck of a cabin trying to figure out how to deal with this stupid hedgehog, when I look over my shoulder and see this huge bear just materialize out of the shadows of the trees as it stands up. That's a heartstopper right there.

Then there was this spy movie type thing going down- you know, the two competent spies on opposite sides, fighting each other, and a goofy stoner gets caught up in the middle. They kill a sleazy spy type who had a switchblade that was rigged to snap closed over the fingers of people if they didn't take it out of his pocket juuuust right. So I (as goofy stoner asshole) sort of wiggle it out with a pencil or chopstick or something, and it snaps closed. When I carefully open it again, it doesn't snap closed, so I pocket it, seeing as it's just a normal switchblade when the mechanism isn't armed.

More things happen, I forget exactly what, but it turns out the goofy asshole stoner (not me) is actually a really evil spy and he's going to kill the M type character. I (as omnipotent camera) think Aw man, I liked him, don't be evil! But alas. So the other spies kick into the room and take aim. Just as they pull the trigger stoner spy pivots and hurls the switchblade from earlier away from the spies, a fraction of a second later the M character enters, directly into the path of the knife.

Then follows an snl skit where everyone I had dreamt of the entire night kept appearing and pushing each other out of the way of the knife.

Anyway, that was the night before last.

Forget it.

If you train yourself anyone can remember their dreams. I used to not be able to remember mine, and training myself to remember them was one of the best things I've ever done for myself. It's made my life so much more magical. Instead of teleporting to the next day when I go to sleep, each day is supplemented with a fantasy world at the end.

Now LAST night I dreamt of an apocalypse where these mutated plants? Or not enough plants. Anyway, there were these huge panorama shots of broken down cities, very hollywood, everything gray under a film of dust. I was this roamer (wanderer isn't the right word) just sort of looking for stores to break into. For some reason I only wanted to break into Sephoras exclusively, and steal all the nail polish. Fuck if I know why, but probably because I like the colors. I meet up with this punk girl and we drink beer and watch other anarchy teens picking through the ruins of the city. As a huge storm starts rolling in, I slip into a cellar beneath a store (not sephora), which I insist on rummaging through for a pair of ray-bans because I want to go to a new place, but I can't without a pair of ray-bans, goddammit.
Also I heard there's a military convoy on the move towards my location which I do not want to deal with anyway, either I find a pair or I give up, and I slip into the basement, grabbing an ax from somewhere.

I don't remember the rest. I think at one point I try to sharpen the ax, and maybe I attack someone (only to turn out he's non-hostile)

also red plants turn people into zombies.

Also I get this idea that we have make everything better by sowing seeds over the ruins and covering everything with plants.

a lot of times it is trying to go back to sleep
or just lay in the bed and think about it, followed by getting up and feeling bad for some time

If I liked it or want to remember it, I write down the details and sometimes draw. It's nice to look back at your dream log after a while. Very cozy.

Does anyone else do this thing when they're dreaming where the become semi-lucid but then accidentally shut their eyes in the dream and it wipes away the dream world?

Happens literally every time I realize I'm dreaming.

This is actually the best answer if you want a chance at re-entering your dream and it increases the chances of you gaining lucidity.

No, never- in fact, when I "realize" I'm in a dream (in quotes because I know it intellectually, but not emotionally), if i know something really bad is going to happen, I'll start screaming to CHANGE THE DREAM! CHANGE! CHANGE! but it usually doesn't

Realize.

Why do ALL of my wet dreams include me eating a girl out and then coming on her face and ONLY that? Why can't they have a bit more action?

Is there an English word for that period where you are awake but haven't yet got your memories back?

Man, I get your thing about always being aware that you're dreaming intellectually but unaware on other levels. The amount of times my dreaming self's thought process has reflected my being in a dream, like "Oh, I need x, I'll just magic it out of nowhere because I'm dreaming", but I've somehow also not fully realized the implication of knowing I'm dreaming, dig?

Is there a word for that in any language?

>tfw when never had a wet dream
Not even when I was a teenager. Feels like I'm missing out on something

Oh man! I know what you mean! That's the worst- I have this thing where I have to use magic a lot in my dreams, and magic is always based on visualization, you know, in your head- but in my dream, I can never visualize, so I always ALMOST have it and it always almost works, but not quite right, because my brain doesn't work right. It's really fuckin' stressful.

I can never magic it out. I always try to magic shit out but it never works. First I tried to make myself dream of hot chicks and it didn't work. I later tried visualising smaller thing and it still didn't work.

And the only way I can know I am in a dream is if I dream of people who are dead or who I know should now be older. Also when I realise I don't have a pen on me because I always have a pen on me when awake.

I'm the opposite, I've never been able to jack off while conscious but had wet dreams all the time in my high school years

Dont fap for a week or two. One night you'll have a dream that you're fucking someone and then when your about to cum you'll wake up and shoot buckets. Have fun

>>tfw when never had a wet dream
Yeah, me neither.
I only have two types of sex dreams
1. I get raped. Sometimes by dolphins.
2. I try to masturbate, but there are people fucking everywhere and none of the doors lock. Sometimes walls will disappear to further facilitate my not masturbating.

>And the only way I can know I am in a dream is if I dream of people who are dead or who I know should now be older. Also when I realise I don't have a pen on me because I always have a pen on me when awake.
I always realize when I look at my hands. For some reason, the number of fingers I have is something that changes while I'm looking at them when I dream. Not sure if that something that happens to other people.

Yeah man I know what you mean about trying to visualize in dreams. I guess cuz the dream itself is some kind of extended visualization so how can you visualize inside a visualization. That's how I perceive it anyway, but it's crazy how much the experience of dreaming varies from person to person.

Lucid dreaming has ruined my ability to have really good nightmares.

I wish i could wake up from this nightmare too.

Me and my friends stopped masturbating for a month as a kind of weird lent thing even though none of us were religious (it was just like a challenge). I didn't make it the whole month, but I definitely made more than two weeks, and still no wet dream.

Strange, man

I'm not trying to be edgy or anything, but I only ever have nightmares these days.
Or maybe I only remember the nightmares.

Drink Coffee.
I mean, I drink coffee even if I don't have an amazing dream, most of them are just nightmares where someone keys my car which used to be my beloved grandfathers, and everyone is disappointed that I allowed it to happen.

The state of emerging from sleep is calle hypnopompia. It's really Greek, but English subsumes Greek anyway.

Based user.

Everybody should revel in, and take the keenest interest in, their dreams. They are utterances of the unconscious, and nearly always carry a relevant and helpful meaning. If you've read Jung you'll know what I mean.

Learn to read dream symbolism if you want to live a more fulfilling life.

half lucid nightmares are the worst

try to fall back asleep and continue it.

He went to bed earlier than usual, but, however hard he tried, he just could not drop off. In the end long-awaited sleep, that universal comforter, descended on him. But what dreams he had! Never had he known such chaotic nightmares. First he dreamt that everything around him was making a terrific din and whirling round and he was running, running, without feeling the ground under his feet, until he was too exhausted to run any longer. Suddenly someone grabbed him by the ear. ‘Ah, who’s that?’ ‘It’s me, your wife!’ a voice shouted right into his ear. And he suddenly woke up.

Then he had another dream, that he was already married, that everything in the house had become so weird, so peculiar, and that there was a double instead of a single bed in his room. His wife was sitting on a chair. He was completely at a loss what to do, whether to go up to her or speak to her, and then he noticed that she had the face of a goose. He happened to look the other way, and saw another wife, and she had a goose’s face as well. He looked again and there was a third wife; he looked around – still another. He panicked and ran into the garden, but it was hot out there. He took off his hat – and there was a wife sitting in it. 13 Beads of sweat trickled down his face. He felt in his pocket for his handkerchief – and found a wife in it. He took some cotton wool out of his ear – there was a wife there too. Suddenly he started hopping on one foot, and Auntie looked at him and said with a serious expression:

‘Yes, you may well hop about; because you’re a married man now.’ He went over to her, but Auntie had turned into a belfry and it seemed someone was hauling him up by a rope to the top. ‘Who’s pulling me up?’ he asked in a pathetic voice. ‘It’s me, your wife, and I’m hauling you up because you’re a bell.’ ‘No, I’m not a bell, I’m Ivan Fyodorovich!’ he shouted. ‘No, you’re a bell,’ said a certain colonel of the P— Infantry Regiment who happened to be passing at the time. Then he suddenly had another dream, that his wife was not a person at all, but some kind of woollen material.

He had gone into a shop in Mogilyov. ‘What kind of material could you like, sir?’ asked the shopkeeper. ‘Have some wife , it’s the latest thing now! Lovely quality as well. Everyone’s having coats made from it.’ The shopkeeper made his measurements and cut the wife up. Ivan Fyodorovich took it under his arm and went off to a Jewish tailor, who said, ‘No, that’s very poor material. No one uses that kind of stuff for coats now…’ Ivan Fyodorovich woke up terrified, in a frenzy, with cold sweat pouring off him.

What are your favourite dream sequences from literature, Veeky Forums?

>Dreams
>Amazing

Why are all the dreams i remember so fucking shit, obtuse, and depressing?

The only thing that's impressive is my brain makes some abstract joke or situation that relates to my alarm clock waking me up right before i actually wake up. Like its the future that influences the stream of memory of the past that our brains live on.

Right it down so I remember it. Analyse it.

>Right
*Write
fuck

Write what you can remember,even small interesting chunks are better than nothing. Had a cool one last night,and I will post it here once its composed.

At the Lich's banquet.

Its night at a white marble building,the diners seated around an open court. The building is in mid construction, but this area is of sufficient completion to allow the party in rough but serviceable comfort. The hostess is a youngish woman,no more than 30,with swept back hair of a grey black hue,held in place with a headband of a simple metal strip,two toned,light stripe within darker borders. Her outfit is tightly fitting,but not otherwise revealing,vaguely Egyptian in style,or it conceivably be wrappings. Her guests are an assortment of magicians,boisterous and amused,drinking her wine and gossiping amongst themselves. The Dreamer (me) had excused himself to use the bathroom,washing his hands at a sink without a basin,merely a direct link to the sewer outflow,and returns to the Hostess' side,or tries to: he bumps a cart laden with construction materials and itrolls downhill,crashing into a sepulchre and releasing a mob of shambling undead! The Lich Queen finds this a happy accident,and encourages her guests to entertain themselves destroying them,which they gleefully comply,hurling damaging magics with an air of sublime amusement. The Queen herself eliminates a few,pointing a finger and reducing them to crackling ash. Then she eyes a four footed creature,misshapen and shambling,as if the sweepings of an abattoir stood up on bits of legs and walked away. "Ooh,what a cutie-pie! Awww!", she coos,and moves to it to poke at it with a tickling finger until it bolts off with her in pursuit. This leaves the Dreamer more or less alone,reclining on her throne,more bed than chair. His eye fixates on a bit of decoration: a statuette of a monk cast in silver. He is lying on his belly,leaning on his elbows,long fingered hands cupping a jowly face,the face gazing down on rhe bed with a long languid indolent smile. "Hmm. I bet you've seen some things going on in here," says the Dreamer to it,meaning the bed. And suddenly animating,drawls, "Oh,you have NO IDEA!" The Queen appears behind the headboard and demands,"No idea about WHAT?!"

And as I am trying to explain,my alarm goes off.

All of my nightmares right now are really horrifying in a mundane way that doesn't trigger lucidity. I've done something unforgivable and am going to be jailed, or I've completely alienated myself from mankind and my friends treat me like a stranger. Or I'm back in school and failing all my classes, and I'm going to grow up to be a loser. That dream is fun because it's reality, and I get to wake up to the actual repercussions of it.

The clever things a brain can come up with on the fly is really impressive. I've experienced entirely new and fully composed peices of music in a dream, or I've sat down to read a book that doesn't exist.

I started writing my dreams down recently, but that's only given me nightmares in the form of surreal manifestations of my mundane fears. If I wake up from one more horrific, reality-warping car accident, I might fucking kill myself.

YES, all the time. More recently I've been able to control it though, and develop full lucidity

I have dreams where I in the dream realize I'm dreaming, and part of the dream is me using the fact that I am dreaming to accomplish whatever goal is present but I never actually realize that I am dreaming that I am dreaming.

Immediately forget about it and go about my day. Waking life interests me much more than dreams.

Write it down if I can. These days I keep having to just take a walk to calm down my fucking heart beat.

I have a tendency to open my eyes instead. Results in waking up...

How do you learn to remember dreams please help

Keep a journal next to your bed and try to write whatever you can remember, perhaps you can remember just a single word like a location or item. Also make sure you get enough sleep.

can a klonopin so i can return :')

Enter a new one

honey in the evening gives total recall of dreams in the morning. then proceed with

cry

this

but you can