To Look Before You Leap, Or To Leap Out Of Faith

It had to be a dream, but then why did my body ache from doing that deep-throat. That didn’t make much sense.

I... needed to think about this.

If this was a dream, then this body I have would not be a real flesh and blood body. It would stand to reason that I would not ever feel any aches or pains.

But I can feel pleasure...

So, how does that work?

This is not a real body, but I can feel things. Vividly. And I can eat food, and taste flavors, but I also felt hunger...

That didn’t make sense.

If this was a dream, then I should be able to ignore silly things like hunger or pain. In fact, I should be able to... change things in the dream, right? Dreams were malleable, or at least people described being able to do incredible things in their lucid dreams. Like fly or teleport.

So, if I could do all that theoretically, then I should be able to stop this pain in my lower back.

I tried thinking the pain away. To make sure if it was gone, I took a couple steps to see if I still felt it. It hadn’t gone away. It was still there.

I frowned in consternation.

Okay, what about something else?

I raised my hand and imagined a red ball appearing in my palm.

Nothing happened.

This... was disappointing, but... I didn’t want to give up. I tried thinking harder about a red bouncy ball just appearing out of thin air into my hand. I focused hard because I really wanted to try some cool things like flying or teleporting to other parts of the world.

I looked at my hand and thought about red balls. I imagined a red ball in my hand. I predicted how it would feel. The plastic feeling, the smooth texture, the bright coloring. I needed a red ball in my hand. I moved my fingers, expecting to find resistance as I closed them. I believed that there was a red ball in my han-

There was a strange sensation in my head. I felt it in a way that I couldn’t quite describe. It felt as if I was pushing something. As if I was moving something into place. It felt like there was resistance. Like something was pushing back.

I was stunned and the feeling faded.

What was that?

There was no ball in my hand, but it felt like something was about to happen if I kept pushing the thought.

I stood there in silence for a moment, wondering if I should even continue. I didn’t really know what I was doing. Was it... safe to try this?

...I was curious.

It felt like I was onto something. I thought about there being a ball in my hand and I had some kind of sensation in my head that I was moving something into place. That had to mean something. The best-case scenario was that I managed to make a red ball. The worst-case scenario... is that I break something.

And since this is a dream, that would mean breaking my head.

That... was a scary concept.

That I could become a lucid dreamer, only to hurt myself in a way that I could never fully understand. Nor could any doctor.

I stood there and stared around the room in somber silence.

I could just explore this world the way I was doing last night. I could just walk and take car, bus and train rides. I didn’t need to be a superhero to get a great deal of sex here.

...but... why can’t I do it?

Others have said that they could do things like fly. But I can’t. Why?

I didn’t like the idea that others could affect their dreams, but I couldn’t. That was bullshit. I raised my hand again and tried to reach that feeling again.

There is a ball in my hand. I believe there is a ball in my hand. It’s there. I can feel it.

I chanted this in my head, and soon enough that sensation of pushing something came back. I didn’t just push straight away. I tried to figure out what made the sensation in the first place. I was trying to change the dreams reality, was that the trigger? But I had to actively believe that it was there for the feeling to occur.

Was it belief?

If I wholeheartedly believed that a red ball would fall into my hand, would that make the feeling of ‘pushing’ increase?

I focused on that. I even closed my eyes for this.

I believed that a red ball would fall into my waiting hand.

The sensation of ‘pushing’ went further, but the sense of resistance persisted. I couldn’t nudge it forward except by continuing to believe or push the belief. I didn’t quite know how to get that last bit or inch or mile.

I tried imagining someone dropping the ball into my hand, and me catching it. I moved my hand as if to compensate for speed and weight. The ‘pushing’ feeling increased. I tried imagining someone dropping the ball by accident, and I reached out because of panic to cat-

Something clicked in my head. At the same time a sensation hit my hand and I jumped. I opened my eyes just as something fell and hit the ground.

I looked down... and saw a... red ball... roll away from me on the floor.

I stared for a minute of deafening silence. Except for the sounds of birds outside.

I finally gulped and lowered my hand.

The... ball had landed in my hand, and I jumped, failing to catch it because the sudden change scared the crap out of me.

But...

...I made a red ball appear.

Holy shit.

It was right there on the floor. Looking very out of place in the room of two women who probably wouldn’t randomly buy a red ball. And they were both still asleep. I was essentially alone but for two sleeping beauties.

I made a ball appear.

The way to do it was... about belief. And the simulated panic at trying to catch a dropped ball helped me understand what that meant.

In that split second, I made my mind actually believe that a ball was falling and that I had to catch it. That belief pushed on the dream, forcing things to change so that belief became real. And what stronger belief was there than one borne out of fear?

However, that made me wonder why it was that difficult to make happen, compared to the testimonies of other people around the world.

...was this dream too strong?

The mind is a fickle thing, so wouldn’t the beliefs of the moment change everything all the time. Like in a regular dream, a person could be in a forest one moment, and then the next they would be in a Mcdonalds queue ordering a cheeseburger.

A regular dream would flow from one thing to the next with such incoherence and whimsy, because the human mind is constantly in flux. Even the lucid dreams of other people are said to be largely incoherent at the best of times. So, why was this dream world so... rigid? Structured? As immovable as real life?

Is this a dream?

Even when I came back to it just now. Everything is the same. I returned to the place where I left off last time I was here. That didn’t make sense. Unless this place had some sort of structure or set of rules.

Did my mind have that power? Or was this... not my mind at all?

That was a disquieting thought.

Was my mind tapping into... a place?

A place that could be molded by the mind. Why else would this place give me access to all the sex an adolescent young man could want? Especially after discovering an interesting fetish beforehand.

And just now with the ball. It felt like I was pushing on something that was already there. It felt like I was making an effort to... change something that was established. I essentially rewrote reality. Or at least, this dream reality.

With that thought, I raised my hand and thought about having the power to make objects levitate. I believed that I could make things levitate. I could move things with my mind.

I felt the ‘push’ and even tried to stimulate my mind with a small amount of fear and panic. Emotions that would fool my brain into truly believing that I could. I used a scenario in my head that if I didn’t move the red ball with my mind, then it would pop.

The feeling of ‘pushing’ went all the way and something clicked into place.

I witnessed the ball move, seemingly all on its own. I... directed it to the left, and it rolled across the floor. I directed it into the air, and it floated up before my eyes. I made it float slowly into my outstretched hand and it softly moved into place.

I now held the red ball. The red ball that didn’t exist until a handful of minutes ago.

I sat in a chair in the lounge. Camila and Zoe were still asleep in their room. The time was just before seven in the morning.

I was floating a ball of fire above my hand.

What I was doing was dangerous. At least to a resident of this world. If I couldn’t control this fire, then the apartment could go up in flames. I wasn’t sure what that would do to me, since I was asleep and dreaming, but I had a feeling that I would probably be okay.

I was playing with fire, both figuratively and “realistically” because the flame automatically added that sense of fear and panic. The two emotions that I could identify as easily fooling the brain into believing something.

I was using this method to try and... flex it as a muscle. So that I could use it all the time without an accident. I also wanted to do it without having to use fear at all. Which meant I needed to teach myself to believe that I am capable of doing anything. I needed to make it a natural feeling. I needed to learn this as a skill that comes as naturally as breathing. It needed to be second nature.

I believe I was making some headway.

About ten minutes ago I created a footrest that I was now using. I did that by moving my foot up and dropping it as if I knew a footrest was going to be there. I did it quickly so as to not second guess myself. Fortunately, the ‘push’ and ‘click’ happened simultaneously. The footrest appeared and my foot landed on a soft object that matched the armchair I was sitting in. I would leave that as a gift for Camila and Zoe.

Now I was moving a fireball back and forth to help me understand that feeling of fear and belief. After a small while of playing this odd game, I was reminded of the idea of ‘looking before you leap’ and the opposite idea of jumping into a dark place and having faith that something will be there for you to land on. The leap of faith.

Reality required one, and dreams required the other.

I moved one hand to the side and picked up a stained glass of apple juice. I brought it to my lips and drank. The ice cubes clinked against the glass.

The apartment did not have any apple juice. The girls did not own a stained glass. Nor did they prepare any ice cubes.

I had my fill of the beverage and closed my hand around nothing.

The fireball in front of me disappeared and I sat there, still naked, and smiled in satisfaction. That feeling of belief, of faith, was a tricky feeling. The mind fought against it constantly. If the brain, with its understanding of reality and consequence, knew for a fact that touching a sharp edge would cut you, then in the dream, just as in reality, the sharp edge would cut you.

However, if I bypassed that knowledge with a new knowledge, here in the dream, not in reality, then the edge would not cut me. The problem was being able to convince my mind Every. Single. Time.

Now, I believed that I could not be hurt in this dream world, but this new revelation made me think otherwise. What would happen if I fell off a building? Or if I stepped in front of incoming traffic? Or if a large heavy object fell on me?

Would I truly be fine? Or would my brain trap me into a painful moment? Or would the fear of **** jolt me awake, like in the movie Inception?

I did not want to test that out. In fact, I would need to actively work against playing with my life. Learning this new incredible skill to change the dream had inadvertently given me a new anxiety. There was a worry in the back of my mind that I couldn’t put words to.

I sighed.

I had that worry, but I couldn’t let it control me, because, ironically, it could become my belief. I had to actively believe that I would be fine. That I would not be hurt. And I had to **** my mind to agree every step of the way.

I stood up and straightened my clothes. I looked at my watch and read the time. Seven twenty-three. I walked towards the girl's bedroom and in a single step I stood by their bedside. I moved through the dream and the dream made way for me. My reality fell into place, replacing the old.

I glanced down at the tracksuit that I had been using. The jacket and the pants disappeared. They would now be neatly folded and laying on the floor of Mia’s bedroom. I didn’t need to see it to know. But I also simply knew that an image of her room would be shown to me like a floating hologram in front of my face. The clothes sat there in the middle of the room, folded neatly.

The hologram screen disappeared and the red ball from earlier also disappeared.

I looked down at the two women and wanted to make sure that I saw them again. So, I pulled out a phone from my pocket. The phone looked good as new, and it was the best of its line. I pressed the screen, and the screen lit up. I pressed on the contacts icon and two numbers appeared without me having to type anything. Camila and Zoe were added to the list. Their address was added to each contact. So, now I had their numbers and their home address.

I sat down on a chair in the corner of the room that hadn’t been there previously and spent a little time remembering all the women I had interacted with since the previous night. Their numbers and addresses were recorded in my phone.

I scrolled down and saw Mia, Karen and Clara and others like Sana from “my” school. I even saw a name I didn’t recognize. Bridget. I made an image appear as a hologram and saw the redheaded bouncer sleeping in her bed. There were more names that I didn’t know but I closed my phone. There were women I played with that I didn’t get the names of, so it was nice to have them here. This would be a great way to keep track of all the women that I liked.

I got up and left the room. It was time I went and found what other mischief I could get up to.

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