Good morning, everybody.
I was looking at a wide, thick picture book full of black and white photos. It was like an illustrated history of Michael Jackson's musical career, with a focus on a very specific time period, maybe like from the late 1980s forward.
But the book was also about the creation of a Michael Jackson Museum somewhere. Some of the photos showed columns and long, narrow corridors, all kind of futuristic looking, but also with a plainness that made the spaces feel very much like contemporary rooms in a museum. There seemed to be silver tinsel everywhere.
But I'd also have flashes of views where I'd suddenly be inside the Michael Jackson Museum. My vision would be really blurry. There were a lot of green spotlights lighting everything up. There were a lot of people around. Sometimes I'd be led down certain areas of the museum. I think Michael Jackson himself was leading me. Then my view would suddenly switch back to just looking at the book.
There was some weird battle going on between two sets of women. All the women were really gorgeous, kind of pale, thin, goth-looking girls. But one half of the girls were normal humans, while the other half had been transformed into vampire- or zombie-like monsters. The regular women were making their final battle against the monster women in a long, narrow room, like a kitchen.
The battle may now have been over. The monster women were sitting all in a line on a fake-leather bench that ran across the left (my left) long wall. The normal women were all working on the monster women. The monster women all seemed to be injured pretty badly, mainly in the chest.
The normal women were all set to work on pulling something out of the monster women's chests. In two cases (I think) I saw the object being pulled out. One of the women had a screw or bolt in her chest, while the other woman had a nail in her chest. But these objects were both cursed objects that had made the women into monsters.
The second normal woman took the nail she had just pulled from the woman's chest and walked over to the sink, which was in the counter that ran all the way along the right wall. She did something with the nail. The monster woman was now a normal woman, and her chest, which had been all caved in and bloody before, was now completely healed, except for a hole in the center of her chest, just above her breasts.
The normal woman may have handed the nail back to the woman. Either way, the woman had a nail in her hand again. The nail was "clean," not cursed. But the woman shoved it right into the hole in her chest. I was kind of shocked that the woman would purposely drive a nail into her chest. I asked her, "Do you like that sort of thing?"
The woman replied, "Yes. Does that scare you? And does it scare you that she" (the normal woman who'd healed her) "is my lesbian lover, and that she likes driving nails into my chest, too?"
I didn't mind. But I felt ashamed for hanging around here. I now realized that all the monster women were all lesbian lovers with the normal women who'd healed them. I didn't want to look like I'd been here because I'd been attracted to all these girls -- even though I had been attracted to them all.
As I was backing up, I saw the first monster girl. She was also healed, even though her chest may still have looked bloody and collapsed. She had a "clean" bolt, which she was now getting ready to shove into her chest.
I walked around a kind of hairpin curve and found myself in a space like a dining room. It was a lot lighter than the other room had been. There was a booth-like table in the right corner of the wall facing me. The bench of the booth was made of white or cream-colored fake leather and went around the table in an almost full square shape. There was also a bright window along the back wall.
The right wall was more like a half wall. It showed into the next room, where a woman sat all by herself. The woman was Asian, and she may have looked like my ex-girlfriend H. I tried not to look at the woman. I assumed that she, like all the other women in this house, was a lesbian. I'd already been ridiculed a bit for having been attracted to girls who were gay. I didn't want to get ridiculed again.
There was a bunch of stuff on the dining table, which may have been below the height of my knee, something like a coffee table's height. I picked up some of the stuff and carried it to the wall behind me. The stuff may have been empty and dirty dishes. I may have been carrying them to a sink to clean them.
It was night. I was sitting at an outdoor table in front of a Jack in the Box restaurant with my mom's best friend. We were eating some kind of sandwiches that had ham and eggs. We may have been talking about old times for a moment or two. But then I got distracted by a message on my cell phone.
There was a whole string of messages that came from Riley Kilo, an adult baby transgendered person who has been an advocate for adult babies in a number of different media arenas. Apparently Riley Kilo and I were kind of like friends. But there was something not quite right about our relationship, like I was always doing something to upset or frustrate Riley and make her feel like she was never getting through to me.
But now Riley was coming to Denver. She'd made this announcement on her blog and in a number of different places, hoping I'd catch on. She'd even sent me this whole string of emails directly. But I hadn't seen or responded to any of them. Finally, she'd sent me an email saying that she was coming to Denver and that she was going to come to my apartment, whether I liked it or not, on the assumption that she was staying there. Once she got there, if I still didn't want her around, I could just kick her out.
I may have thought that I'd respond to this message by saying, "Okay." But I don't think I responded. I think I just sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what the heck I should do.
I suddenly realized that I'd been sitting in absolute silence with my mom's best friend for a good amount of time now. I thought I'd been making progress during our conversation, up until I'd looked at my phone, with letting my mom's friend understand how much I liked her and appreciated her. But now that it had been silent for so long, I think my mom's friend was wondering whether I actually liked her.
So now I asked my mom's friend, "Do you remember before Jack in the Box made its big change, and when I was a little kid, how you and my mom and I would come here all the time? We'd have breakfast sandwiches." My mom's friend remembered this. But something about her memory seemed to come from a different time period than I was talking about. I got distracted again, trying to figure out how to describe the time period exactly right, so my mom's friend would know exactly what I was talking about.
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #2, July 30, 2012, 2:16 PM, Mountain Standard Time.