Attempting to go lucid in your dreams is really hard, until you’ve done it, then it’s really frustrating.
First thing I remember upon waking was that my alarm clock was going off, but that I couldn’t turn it off because it was “fuzzy.” It wasn’t fuzzy as in YOUR reality of fuzzy, it was fuzzy in MY dream reality. I mean, it was solid and flat and definitely NOT fuzzy, but it really was fuzzy at the same time.
The clock was also a disembodied floating red digital clock font surrounded by a thin, red outline, the sort of rounded corner box you see so much in webdom.
And that’s why it was fuzzy.
I did have a period of near-lucidity, though, that I realized while in the shower. I think in the shower – probably because I’m not a shower-whacker. Not that I haven’t tried, it just washes away the slickness. Anyway. YMMV.
Back to the lucidity. So there I was, doing suddenly aware that I was dreaming. “But I couldn’t do THIS” in my dream as I hiked up the leg of the girl next to me, who was suddenly naked. I wanted badly to see her vagina, but couldn’t. I briefly thought about doing a porno-esque move, the kind where you can tell it’s just staged for the good camera shot and probably very tiring and uncomfortable for both, but I couldn’t quite convince myself that it was a dream, so I lowered her leg and looked around.
The book I’m reading, The Head Trip, is all about various states of sleep and dreaming and up-to-date dream research. I’m on the lucid dreaming chapter, in case you’re denser than uranium.
Then I was fleeing on a boat from an island, but I was watching from far overhead and everything looked like a cheap, 2D top-down game from the late 80’s. We safely navigated to the main land, bitmapped wake and all. Suddenly, I was me again and we were in a castle, defending against a sudden air attack from machines-turned-giant flying insects, at which point everything gets fuzzy and I don’t remember much more.
Probably because of that damnable fuzzy alarm clock. Maybe I should go smash it.