Morning of February 9, 2015. Monday.

For quite some time I am looking at old family photographs on my computer. There is one part where there are also videos below the photographs, several full-screen ones, but columned down the screen, all playing at the same time, which is a bit annoying. Still, I manage to learn of an unknown (fictional) teenage girl having been a friend of the family for a long time. Meanwhile, I realize it is a bit cold and the front door to the apartment is open (though we live in a one-family house in reality). The heating is working but I think of telling my wife about the open front door instead of just closing it. (It is the opposite in reality - too hot and with a fan on next to the bed.)

The unknown girl's name is Stella Womack. This is likely a typical dream distortion, in this case, of "still a woman" (the name being completely unfamiliar to me otherwise though there are people with the name in reality).

Some sort of intense in-dream mystery seems to build. This girl had photographs taken numerous times with members of my family and at a few different addresses we had lived. Somehow, something is not explainable, yet I do not become lucid over this nonexistent person having been photographed and filmed for so long. Perhaps my memory has failed and I had somehow forgotten about her. I decide to talk to my wife and find out more about all the photographs. Perhaps I had somehow just not seen any of these photographs and thus was unaware of her all this time. In the last image I see, she is standing in the kitchen holding a guinea pig and there is also a small dog on the table. Oddly, she has her mouth over the head of the guinea pig, but not so it would be unable to breathe.

My wife is lying in bed and I walk in and talk to her about this Womack girl. I remember another photograph of her standing in a kitchen. I clearly see all the hanging utensils and other details. My wife seems uncertain about why I seem confused over the photographs. She suddenly shouts "you're dreaming!" From here she either becomes, or is replaced by, a human-sized guinea pig with its jaw hanging open and with wide overly large glassy eyes (with the impression that it was the guinea pig that had yelled and "died" or became completely still). This image remains completely "frozen". Even though it feels as if I am wide awake now, as "real" as reality, I also have a strange awareness which is almost like coming out of a fog. (This is at least a partial result of the "thank you for telling me when I am dreaming" meditation - but to where it is now a part of my normal thinking - yes, all it takes is simple thinking, as with anything else, which transforms into actual belief and automatic responses over time - though certain mental patterns and "abilities" seem to take over twenty years to hone perfectly with light three-minute affirmation sessions throughout every day, many thousands of which I developed over time since childhood.)

Becoming fully lucid, I wander off into a typical random "let's have sex" neighborhood - fully aware that I am always the maker of all my dreams (both lucid and non-lucid - something I have accepted since I was very young) - and easily rip the front doors off the first house I come to and throw them into the front yard behind me. Three perfect copies of my beautiful wife are lounging around in the living room. There are at least two other people around, somewhere in the house, but I ignore their presence at first. Obviously, full passive cooperation follows as I sit down on the couch and have one at a time over what seems about an hour. Only one copy is wearing reading glasses, the pair she has used only rarely in reality. Another copy is several years younger.

At one point, another male walks out from the hallway and is standing behind the couch, almost like some sort of brainless Sims character meandering about - as I sense no intelligence or consciousness as I do with my wives. I do not really feel threatened or judged but I am somewhat annoyed by some sort of incoherent muffled vocalization on his part (he seemingly represents the typical imposing nature of everyman) - so I somehow fling my arms backwards, grab him by the shoulders, fold him into a paper airplane, and fling him back into the hallway.

For seemingly about twenty minutes, I relax in my dream between sexual acts, cheerfully admiring my dream's environment, sitting there and contemplating how amazing it is that I feel exactly the same as I do when awake (though this dream is far more vivid and with more conscious "depth" than typical lucid dream types - as I am in complete "automatic" control and focus throughout). I look around the room. There is a small bedroom on my left side. The hallway on the other side of the room is in front of me. The couch (near the center of the room) faces away from the front door. At no time does the room change size or change in any other way (as is typical in non-lucid dreams and even some lucid ones).

I look up and behind me and see at least four large silver wind chimes hanging from the ceiling; the same direction as the couch is oriented but arranged over the length of the room, north to south. They are crescent moons and five-pointed stars. The ceiling reflects the very slight motions of the wind chimes perfectly, both in the cast shadows and the silvery reflections of each star and crescent moon, which captures my attention for a few minutes, it is so amazingly beautiful and bringing a deep sense of peace. I briefly focus on how it is possible for the movements to be so accurate. In fact, I deliberately study the reflections on the ceiling caused by a particular wind chime and watch the very slight movement which is rendered exactly on the ceiling in shadow and light simultaneously - just as it would be in reality. This pleases me and I amazed by the correct details. I could sit here admiring the designs for hours.

I indulge in lovemaking three times before the telephone wakes me up in the middle of my third climax. It is a sudden shift from what seemed like an alternate reality - but the speed at which my in-dream awareness drops and "breaks" and then rises again as I wake gives me a slight headache. The first lovemaking is "normal" but the second (in reading glasses at first) involves a delay as she is wearing at least two layers of very sheer white cloth over nearly her entire body. It takes a bit of time to "scrape" the pieces off into various small shreds and the visual detail, both bodily and concerning the cloth, is extraordinary - I do get most of the first layer off - still, I lose patience and climax on the outside, still seeing her darker pinkness through the transparent but grid-patterned cloth. The third act involves the youngest version coming back from the bedroom (though she had been in the living room earlier) and this one gives oral - the beginning being almost like a "vacuuming" effect on me and with the enhanced "tickle" and eventual beginning climax - but then the telephone rings in reality.

In my wife's dream, she was looking at lady's pajama pants with stars and moons, wondering if she wanted to wear them - not shared dreaming but still a linking element.