You'll excuse me if I am a little pleased with myself, but I finally reached the Holy Grail of dreaming last week. Finally, a lucid dream. That's perhaps not to say that it is the first one (I'm not quite sure) but I can now be certain. Step on:
I am in the car with my parents, driving west - toward Greenock - on the M8 motorway. There are bridge repairs up ahead, so we head off the motorway, and into what appears to be a factory. I get out of the car and start running in between, and upon, barrels of chemical waste. We retire to a tall, imposing, three-storey house, which, when inside, is exactly like my house. I go to bed. Later on, I try to break the window of my room, throw a curtain over the shards, and jump out of it. I land from the first storey window into my school playground. There is a murmur of anticipation, and somebody tells me that, for breaking the window, the staff are in conference about how to punish me.
At this point I release the ridiculousness of the situation, decide that it must be a dream, and become lucid.
I'd like to say that I did some really amazing things in my lucidity. In reality, all I managed to do was fly a little. I concentrated really hard, the first time, but I fell over. The second time, I managed to take off, and spin around with my legs bent back, like a sort-of helicopter.
At this point, I realised that I could, at will, open my eyes. After this realisation, I felt all physical sensation revert to the real world, and feel as if I am in a daydream. Any further conscious thought would result in little mental gain, so I wake up.