1. "Dream Managers", hand-drawing and collage by Eugenia Loli.

Lucidity is easily accomplished when you wake up for 30 minutes or so towards the end of your sleeping cycle, and then sleep again.

So anyway, I was lucid once again, and I didn’t want to play nice with how the dream’s “plot” was going. I simply ignored the plot (since I knew it was yet another stupid dream), and I just wanted to fly around and waste time. Soon enough, I was landed to a kind of “dream police” that was running the show, and wasn’t happy with me not participating in the dream.

So I was shown to the office of a dream manager of sorts, and since he knew that I’m not taking sh*t anymore in my dreams (lately I’ve been a rebel in many of my dreams, refusing to play along), he decided to lay it bare for me: that the human race is enslaved, that the best part is that we don’t even know that we’re enslaved (he felt proud of it), and that we belong to a very ancient entity that his race also serves, and that even if I was to leave the dream-space and fly around, they already have implant-transmitters on all humans, to locate us in the spiritual world.

I can’t speak about the truth of what was said, I’m only the messenger. But even if all that was real, I honestly don’t really care. Not because I’m not into this kind of “exotic matters”, but rather because I feel that any such little project of “enslaving the human race” is beneath me. It simply showed me that they’re not better than us in a way that matters, so no matter what type of technology they’ve got, they’re still rats in my opinion.

His big mouth only stopped when two other guys, his superiors, entered the room. He looked at them concerned, and suddenly I felt removed from the scene, and back to my bedroom. I guess that guy has had it with me and my rebellious dreams in the last few months, he got pissed off, and he started burbling out all that stuff, only to be shut up by his superiors.

His superiors in expensive suits (the Men in Black of my dream-space), weren’t human-like. They had egg-shaped orange-colored heads, without facial features, but with tentacles as sensory organs. Which I found odd, because I never see “monsters” in my dreams — in fact, I’ve stopped even having nightmares when I took some control of my dream space through lucidity and meditation: I overcame my usual terrors by simply stating to bad entities that I’m not afraid of them, and to get a hike. So anyways, these two guys were not educing terror to me, but to that dream manager for having opened his mouth. They never talked to me, they simply removed me from the scene fast enough.

I decided to draw them, so I don’t forget them.

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    "Dream Managers", hand-drawing and collage by Eugenia Loli.

    Lucidity is easily accomplished when you wake up for 30 minutes or so towards the end of your sleeping cycle, and then sleep again.

    So anyway, I was lucid once again, and I didn’t want to play nice with how the dream’s “plot” was going. I simply ignored the plot (since I knew it was yet another stupid dream), and I just wanted to fly around and waste time. Soon enough, I was landed to a kind of “dream police” that was running the show, and wasn’t happy with me not participating in the dream.

    So I was shown to the office of a dream manager of sorts, and since he knew that I’m not taking sh*t anymore in my dreams (lately I’ve been a rebel in many of my dreams, refusing to play along), he decided to lay it bare for me: that the human race is enslaved, that the best part is that we don’t even know that we’re enslaved (he felt proud of it), and that we belong to a very ancient entity that his race also serves, and that even if I was to leave the dream-space and fly around, they already have implant-transmitters on all humans, to locate us in the spiritual world.

    I can’t speak about the truth of what was said, I’m only the messenger. But even if all that was real, I honestly don’t really care. Not because I’m not into this kind of “exotic matters”, but rather because I feel that any such little project of “enslaving the human race” is beneath me. It simply showed me that they’re not better than us in a way that matters, so no matter what type of technology they’ve got, they’re still rats in my opinion.

    His big mouth only stopped when two other guys, his superiors, entered the room. He looked at them concerned, and suddenly I felt removed from the scene, and back to my bedroom. I guess that guy has had it with me and my rebellious dreams in the last few months, he got pissed off, and he started burbling out all that stuff, only to be shut up by his superiors.

    His superiors in expensive suits (the Men in Black of my dream-space), weren’t human-like. They had egg-shaped orange-colored heads, without facial features, but with tentacles as sensory organs. Which I found odd, because I never see “monsters” in my dreams — in fact, I’ve stopped even having nightmares when I took some control of my dream space through lucidity and meditation: I overcame my usual terrors by simply stating to bad entities that I’m not afraid of them, and to get a hike. So anyways, these two guys were not educing terror to me, but to that dream manager for having opened his mouth. They never talked to me, they simply removed me from the scene fast enough.

    I decided to draw them, so I don’t forget them.

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