peanut butter + apple juice = psychedelic advocates?

Bad news: dry spell again. Man, it's very frustrating this time because I couldn't pinpoint the culprit behind it. Definitely not pseudoephedrine because I didn't (rather, didn't need to) take any. I didn't take any other stimulants or wakefulness-promoting agents either. And I didn't have any significant change to my routine - well, nothing obvious. All the more frustrating when you consider the fact that I had 4 lucid dreams the week before I had this dry spell. What's with the drastic fluctuation??? Arghhhh!!!

Good news: I want my vivid dreams back, so I followed the advice from the people at the Dreamviews forum, and prescribed myself one tablespoon of peanut butter and a glass of apple juice before I go to sleep. It worked :D I've been doing this for the past few days and my vivid dreams have returned yay. My dream recall have also improved, and I can now remember about four dreams per night. How awesome. But still, that's not enough. I want my lucid dreams back.

My dream last night was about me going for a stroll around Dunedin, walking aimlessly with a partner. Or so I believed I was accompanied by a partner. We were heading home from Octagon when the scenery changed abruptly into a heavily altered version of Dunedin. Instead of rows of shops, the place was now occupied by old, abandoned building and a creepy prison, sort of like Penjara Pudu. For some unknown reason, I decided to get into the prison to see if there was anything interesting I could find. I went past a rather big cell occupied by naked and dishevelled old men, but I thought it was normal for people in a prison so I didn't become lucid or anything. Grrr. I had a small chat with one of the men, who invited me to enter their cell. I realized that the cell was occupied by famous psychedelic advocates, including Tim Leary, Aldous Huxley, Sasha Shulgin, Terence McKenna, Albert Hofmann and Ram Dass. Ram Dass later proceeded to give a speech about how psychedelics are misconstrued by the people in my generation, and how people have failed to appreciate the entheogenic properties of psychedelics. He also claimed that the ignorance of the authorities have caused them to end up in the abandoned prison, as a punishment for their long psychedelic crusade. I was moved by his wisdom, and planned to get them out of the prison. We managed to escape, and boarded a train which appeared out of nowhere.

The train was very much like the Taieri Gorge train, but a bit larger. I was aware of the fact that boarding the train with a group of prison breakers will lead me into a very complicated situation, but I kept on doing so anyway because I felt it was my duty to help them psychedelic advocates. Everything went fine until the train conductor began asking for tickets. I began to panic because we boarded the train illegally without tickets whatsoever. The conductor announced that there were a bunch of convicts in the coach (referring to the psychedelic advocates) and anybody without a valid ticket would be shot. The men got up one by one, and jumped out of the moving train without hesitation. I was going to do the same but the train conductor stopped me, and told me that it was unnecessary since I was not dangerous. All I need to do was to show my ticket, she said. Realizing that I had none, I began running away as fast as I could.

I later found myself in the middle of some sort of festival. Ram Dass and friends were there, giving lectures to a group of keen listeners. A Balinese lady ornately adorned with jewelleries and psychedelic attire danced ecstatically in one corner, while the rest of the crown swayed their body to the music played (I believe it was psybient, not Goa trance.) The scene looked very much like Nambassa/Burning Man/FMF. I wanted to join the crowd and take acid or whatever, but stopped short upon seeing the train conductor with a shotgun in her hand. I tried to hide, but she noticed me and began firing shots towards me. I employed my classic dream shooting escape technique i.e. pretended that I was shot and dropped dead, which managed to make her stop and walk away. Surprisingly, the crowd were not at all stirred from the shootings, and everybody acted as if nothing had just happened. I realized that I was shot on my left shoulder, and woke up.

You see, I managed to carry out 2 of my dream tasks i.e. meet Ram Dass et al. and attend a hippie festival, but I was not lucid FGS. It's wonderful, yet frustrating at the same time. I want my lucid dreams back sobs. Peanut butter + apple juice, do me good will you? T_T