Lucid Dreams


My personal possessions are going missing to the extent that I’m seriously beginning to entertain the possibility that a supernatural agency such as a poltergeist may be responsible. These are things that have no business going missing, mainly because I only ever use them in one room and they are or rather were invariably to hand, like the pens, notebooks and CDs that I kept here on my desk beside my laptop. Their loss is baffling and frustrating, so I’ve overturned my study in what has thus far been a futile attempt to locate them, although in the process, I’ve discovered a few other things I’d forgotten about.

One of these is the book in the photograph above, the wonderful Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath And Other Oneiric Works by H.P. Lovecraft. The principal story is related by Randolph Carter, a human who has mastered the art or craft of lucid dreaming, so this book naturally reminded me of a striking series of lucid dreams I experienced a few years ago, all of which I meticulously recorded when I awoke. I’ve put my study of the scientific stranglehold on Stonehenge on hold for the time being in the expectation that I’ll be able to add more material to it in the near future, while I’ve temporarily abandoned the quest to complete my essay on Abandoning the Quest as it seemed the right and the poetic thing to do, on reflection.

My lucid dreams would have been striking enough regardless of what appeared in them, purely on account of the fact that I felt self aware when I was experiencing them. As it was, they began in a noisy underground Tube station in London, where a real person from my past presented themselves to me from out of the crowd, then said “So, you want to know the secrets of Stonehenge?” I was surprised, but I admitted this was the case, whereupon I recall I was treated to a series of baffling visions in London and then in Devon, but the rest of these dreams took place on some desert island that I was able to examine in minute detail. On the island was a structure that seemed to have been made from three Stonehenge sarsens, in such a way as to form a huge triangular frame and I was led to believe that if I gazed into this ‘portal’, then all would be revealed, or at least enough to keep me content for the next two decades or so.

The imagery throughout this series of dreams was striking and baffling, but I was always astonished by just how real every aspect of these dreams was. For instance, in one of them, I found myself aboard a boat close to the southwestern limit of the island in a ferocious storm, whereupon an immense stone structure in the rough shape of a sword one hundred feet or so high erupted out of the waves that were battering the coast, but I was able to approach and inspect it. The surface of this bizarre structure was incised with tens of thousands of lines, each about two inches long, but when I touched it, the surface felt like hard wood and the sensation was so vivid that I can recall it with near perfect clarity a few years later, although I do not have the remotest idea what it meant, or means.

Nonetheless, I intend to try to dig out this material because I’m sure I’d be even more fascinated by the voluminous details of these dreams today than I was when they first came to me around two years ago. I’m stoic about the possibility or even the likelihood that, like some of my other treasures, they’ve disappeared never to be found again, but I’ll search for them as best I can and write them up properly if they come to light.

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