Friday, June 29, 2012

insubordinate identities; orgy superstar; forehead mustache

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was dealing with some sort of dream (? - I have a feeling that on some level I knew this was a dream) entity who was really sensitive and could become angry really easy. I don't know whether he was good or bad. But apparently I was trying to work with him because if I didn't appease him he was going to destroy something.

But I ran into trouble with the man when I was no longer able to control some parts of my own identity. I could see my identity as three women. The women were all supposed to be identical. They all had the same body form and the same kind of shoulder-length, but almost bowl-cut-like, black hair. Their eyes were weird, like they were wearing sunglasses without actually wearing any glasses.

These three female identities of myself may have been naked. One of them may have been completely visible. Another may have been silvery, like a silver mannequin of a person. The other was transparent, like a clear, plastic model of a person. At some point they may have stood in the opening doors of a train like a subway train, out at a train station stop surrounded by fields of tall grass, under a deep blue sky.

I had the idea that one of the women was supposed to help me control my dream. But none of the women seemed to have that trait. One of the women would do the reverse of anything I asked. Another woman may have acted completely at random. I can't remember what the third woman would do.

The man seemed to understand the situation. But I knew that I had to stop the women from acting. Because if they did anything that made it look like I was betraying the man, the man would only blame me, not my identities. But the man still understood the situation enough to think it was funny. The man even made some remark to me about not being able to control myself or my identities.

I was possibly trying to get to the man. I was on a subway. But I realized I had gone the wrong way on the train. My identities may have been with me. The man may have laughed again -- from wherever he was -- about my not even being able to go the right way on the train.

The train door opened outside, in one of the upper levels of a sports stadium. There were a whole bunch of people both inside and outside the train car. I rushed out of the car and into the packed crowd of people. I ran over to the staircase at the bottom of this level. I rushed down the staircase while a whole bunch of other people were rushing up -- though maybe some other people were also rushing down.


At the bottom of the staircase was another subway platform. The train arriving at this platform would take me back to where I'd come from. Then I could get off this train and get back on the train I had just been on. And then I'd be able to get to the right place.

When I thought of all the stops on this particular train line, I realized that a lot of them serviced just this stadium. It was like this single stadium was so big that it could take up almost an entire train line.

Dream #2

I was in a room in some small apartment. There was a group of men and women with me. The men and women were all at least somewhat attractive, all in about their late twenties or early thirties. We had all finished some kind of task. Now some people decided that we should have a sexual orgy.

I was sitting on the floor -- I think the apartment had one table, but no chairs. Two men pulled off their clothes and lay down by me. I was feeling kind of sexually excited by them. They were already starting to have sex. I may have stood up in search of a sexual partner. Other people may now have been taking their clothes off and preparing to have sex.

The two men who were having sex were supposed to be in demand by a lot of people. But people had to wait until the two men were done having sex with each other before they could have sex with one or both of the men.

I was drifting away, possibly with some other people in the group, to some other location. I had gone far away from the apartment. But there was a tube that reached all the way from the apartment to where my group was. This tube was clear and made of some kind of thin plastic or latex. The plastic itself had a yellowish tinge to it. The tube was maybe 20cm in diameter.

Some clear gel was pumping through the tube. I knew this gel was sperm from the two men. As they had sex with each other, they just kept pumping more and more sperm through this tube, all the way over to where the group now was.

But there may have been something wrong with the sperm tube. I needed to go check it out. I went all the way back to the apartment. I was now walking up to the front door of the apartment, following the sperm tube as I walked. I thought to myself that maybe it would finally be my turn to have sex. But I thought that it was probably still unlikely. The two men would still be pumping their sperm away. And if I even slightly bugged them about finishing up, it would never be my turn for sex.

I went into the house. I could see that everybody was taking off their clothes, getting ready to have an orgy. But everybody in the apartment seemed to have Down Syndrome. People took off their clothes and lay on the floor. That was when I got good views of their bodies. Some of the men had nice bodies. Some of the women almost had nice bodies, except that their breasts and hips were exaggerated in size and really saggy. Other men and women were really chubby. I wasn't attracted to anybody. I decided not to have sex.

As everybody started to have sex, the scene shifted to a park scene. Everybody having sex was on some open, dry, dusty area, like an overused sports field. I sat at the edge of this field with a number of other people. The area we sat on was also pretty dry and dusty. But it sloped up a tiny bit, and there seemed to be pine needles covering the ground, as if pine trees were behind us somewhere. The whole seating area and the whole dusty orgy-field were all covered over with shade from huge tree canopies, through which little fragments of sunlight would occasionally peep through.

I sat on the ground with my knees almost up to my chest, looping my arms around my knees. Other people sat on the ground, while some sat on a couple of benches and some stood. We were all watching the people on the field having sex. Now it seemed like none of the people having sex had a body type that I liked at all. I was actually getting kind of bored with watching the people have sex.

There was apparently a restaurant, like a Denny's, behind the slope that I sat on. A group of people came out from the restaurant, out onto the slope. The group seemed to be a few families. Among the families were a number of pretty girls. I backed up to get a better view of the pretty girls. One of them had tan skin and brown hair. I liked her a lot.

The families all seemed to be curious about what the group I was with was watching. Suddenly I realized that if the girl saw what I was watching she would think I was a pervert. I backed up from the orgy as much as I could, while still staying seated on the ground.

I realized my "shoulder straps" had come undone while I had been watching the orgy. I pulled them back up over my shoulders. It was then I realized I'd been wearing girls-style, white denim overalls with short leggings. Something about the overalls was also bunched up or ruffled, maybe around the leggings and on the chest. I wasn't wearing a shirt or anything else (including underwear, I think) under the overalls. My outfit may have had something in common with the pretty girl's outfit. But I may have been too embarrassed at my own outfit to notice.

When everybody else saw how I was backing away from the orgy, they all said, "Ah, look... Preemie's bored with this whole thing. This show's getting boring. Let's just say the show's over."

Suddenly the show was over, just like it had been scheduled. Now another group of performers walked up onto the lot. But the lot was now made of asphalt. And, somehow, it was re-oriented: 90 degrees to the left of where it had previously been.

The group of performers all made it obvious to me, possibly by singing a little snatch or two from a song, that they were going to perform the musical Jesus Christ Superstar. I was excited, as I've always liked that musical. The group all stood in a grid-like formation and began to sing.

I might not have been able to understand the group's singing. So I stood up to get closer and hear better. But as I got closer, I was kind of disappointed. The song didn't sound familiar to me at all. Were these guys performing a newer version of the musical?

I listened closer to the song. The group was actually singing about plot elements from the old Bible cartoon Superbook! The group may even have said the word "Superbook." I told myself, Oh, no! This isn't Jesus Christ Superstar. It's a musical for the cartoon of Superbook!

I may have been planning to get out of here. But as I was walking away I kept trying to pull my backpack (???) back onto my shoulders. But the straps of the backpack were so small. I kept trying to pull the right strap onto my right arm. But right before it got to the shoulder, it just wouldn't fit. It felt tighter and tigher. It was squeezing my arm like some black rubber band. I thought to myself, Man! Have I gained a lot of weight recently? This backpack used to fit me!

Dream #3

I was at some event like a fair or a Renaissance festival. I stood out on a wide, asphalt walkway. There were a lot of people, all walking around to different small shops or booths. But nobody really got near me. The sky overhead was greyish white with thin clouds. It was probably a warm day.

I pulled some object out of my pocket. It flipped open, like a flip-phone. It was just a little larger than a flip-phone. But it wasn't a phone. It was kind of like a mirror: it shone or reflected in a silvery way, like a mirror. But what it really was was a picture of myself from when I was in college.

I looked at myself from that photo. I looked just about the same as I look now, except that I had a weird mustache. The mustache went down primly from the center of my nose. Then at the top of my lip, it curved sharply back up. As it spread out at the corners of my mouth, it kind of twisted out like a handlebar mustache. But the "handlebars" looked disgusting. It was like they were made of overused, black toothbrush bristles. The edges of the mustache were so spiky and worn-out looking and gross.

Looking at myself, I asked myself, How could I possibly have let myself look like that while I was in college?

I looked at the photo again. I noticed that I also had a mustache just above my eyebrows. It was like a handlebar mustache as well. But it was much smaller and tighter. For some reason it made complete sense to me that I'd had a mustache on my forehead.

***

UPDATE: A post relating to images in these dreams can be found at this entry of my dreamday journal.