Friday, March 29, 2013

latex transvestite interview; youzakura

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a very small bedroom, like a bedroom in a double-wide trailer, with a beautiful, blonde woman. I stood close to and facing the woman, who stood with her back to a small chair.

The woman and I were apparently on some kind of television show. We had gone through some sort of interaction, and we were now being interviewed, or we were interviewing each other, about it. But I couldn't see the camera. It was almost like we were playing that we were on TV, even though we really were on TV.

The interview basically became about the fact that when the woman and I had gone on a date, we'd worn the same clothes. The woman was still wearing the clothes she'd worn on the night of the date, including a yellow, knee-length skirt that had a hem like the cuff for the sleeve of a long-sleeved shirt and bunched loosely out in lazy pleats up to the waist.

I asked the woman what her reaction had been to me coming to our date wearing a dress. The woman gave her reaction instead of talking about it. The woman acted accepting, but shaky and a little reticent. It became obvious that the woman was a little jealous, wondering if I'd stolen her clothes.

We kind of changed positions a bit, so I was now facing the door, which had been to my right before. The woman's skirt was still loose and yellow, but was now made of latex. The woman told me something, possibly more accepting of me than she'd been before.

We changed positions again, so that I was now facing the back wall, with my back to the chair. The woman's entire outfit may now have been made of latex, and it was probably much tighter. The woman told me she actually thought it was hot that I had been dressed in the same clothes as she (i.e. the tight latex outfit).

The woman's outfit may have changed again, to a completely skin-tight, almost transparent, latex outfit. I was wearing the same thing. I knew the woman wanted to get on all fours and have me go at her from behind -- without either of us taking off our suits! This seemed really impractical, even uncomfortable, but really arousing.

Dream #2

It was night. I was walking down the middle of a wide street, like a busy street of stores and parking lots in a suburban city. But there were also cherry trees or crabapple trees growing up in the middle of the street. The trees were huge, and their canopies were filled with big, beautiful, pink and white blossoms. The blossoms' color was even more intense in the orange streetlamp light.

I felt so peaceful walking down this road. Suddenly I came to a gigantic cherry tree that seemed to fill me with its beauty. As I passed under the canopy and witnessed the beauty of the blossoms, I became much more aware of things, if not entirely aware that I was dreaming.

I knew I could fly. I decided to fly up to the top of this tree. I ran out from under the canopy, turned around, and ran back toward the canopy. Reaching the canopy, I leaped upward.

I jumped over the first layer of canopy, which was wide, but not extremely tall. Above that first layer the tree basically became a trunk clouded and swirled around with branches and limbs full of small, gentle-pink and white blossoms. I also spiraled my way (counterclockwise?) up the tree.

I clung to the tree with my left arm, like a monkey would. The sky was foggy or cloudy all around me. I looked down to the ground. It was a lot farther below me than I thought. I saw through a layer of clouds to the shimmering orange lights of a city.

I was really close to the top of the tree. I wanted to go ahead and fly up to the top. But I was already scared by how high I was. But I decided to fly up to the top, anyway. I made one last leap and reached the top of the tree. The top was round and bald, covered in dark bark, and coated in thick piles of tiny, pink and white petals.

I now knew I had to jump back down to the ground. I was really scared by how high I was. I knew that I could fly, and that I'd probably just be able to float down gently through the clouds and back down to the ground. But I worried that I either had lost my ability to fly or that I would lose it, and that, mid-flight, I'd suddenly drop down through the air and smash to the ground.

But I went ahead, took three deep breaths (which I could physically feel in my ears) and jumped. I found myself drifting downward through a thick layer of clouds. I may then have passed below the layer of clouds, so I could see the tree again as I drifted back down toward the ground.

I was suddenly called for by a group of people, probably a group of Japanese people, mostly women, in their forties and fifties. I couldn't see them: it was like they were shrouded in the blackness of the sky around me. They told me I needed to join them for a safe landing.

I somehow joined hands with the people. We had joined into a circle and were drifting down to the ground, maybe like a circle of skydivers. We landed. As soon as we landed, the darkness all went away. We were all standing out on a flat, open, treeless plain in the sunlight, under a blue sky. Everybody started walking away. It was like we had been part of some volunteer project, which was now over.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

chainworm; i'm sorry mom

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some vague space, maybe like a common area or a cafeteria for a university. The space may have been white or cream and blue. I wasn't quite there -- it was more like my view was floating through it, while also vaguely being somewhere else.

I had probably taken my FINRA Series 7 test recently. I hadn't done as well as I'd wanted to, but I'd gotten much better than a passing grade. But now AB, one of the heads of the company I currently work for (which doesn't have anything to do with stocks, the subject of the Series 7), told me I needed to take my test. I was a little frustrated. It was like AB was completely unaware I'd already taken my test.

As AB told me this, my view floated downward, through some den- ski lodge-like area, down through the floor of that area, and into a big basement that also looked a little like a common area or study area in a university. I was all by myself here, and I may have felt trapped here somehow. I alternately sat on the floor and before a long, but short, counter.

I had two books before me. Both books were study books for the test. Both books were tall and wide, though not very thick. The book on the right had writing in it, like test questions. The book on the left was full of three-dimensional, geometrical diagrams.

I reflected on these books. I really didn't want to take the test again. But I felt like that was really the only way I convince AB I'd ever taken it in the first place. I felt kind of lazy for not taking the test. I knew if I took the test again, I could do a lot better. AB would be please by that. But I also knew that I'd already, from my previous score, gotten myself into the top ten percent of the people who'd taken the test. Couldn't AB be satisfied with that?

My view was now floating through a suburban street, but only like I was vaguely there. It was like, somehow, I was still, vaguely, in the basement. I was also carrying on a conversation with AB, or remembering a conversation with AB.

I had a tickling in the back of my throat. I coughed, then reached into the back of my throat and pulled out a string of phlegm. I wanted to pull out the whole string of phlegm. It was really annoying. I didn't want more of it to come back up my throat and annoy me more.

But as I continued pulling the string, it became a thin, dull, gold or brass chain. I was a little surprised by this. I knew that the chain was something organic: either something my body had created or a foreign organism that had gotten into me.

As I kept pulling the chain out, it got larger and larger. Pretty soon it was a thick chain, coated in something like black and grey phlegm. I started to get the idea that the chain was actually something like a tapeworm. I wanted to get the tapeworm out of my body altogether. As I continued to pull, the chain may finally have taken on a fleshy appearance, something like my conception of a tapeworm.

Dream #2

My mom was in the hospital. My brother and sister and I, and possibly my grandmother (who, in waking life, has only recently died), were standing around my mom's bed.

I somehow got a look at the back of my mom's head. There was a chunk maybe an inch wide out of the base of my mom's skull. This was the result of some kind of degenerative disease my mom had, maybe something to do with her heart.

Even though everybody else was around, my mom somehow spoke just to me, maybe using a guarded kind of speech, to indicate that the doctors had told her that the disease she was suffering from was about to overtake her. My mom knew she was going to die.

This had all happened rather suddenly. Something about the whole situation may also have been my fault, as if my neglect of my mother had allowed a physical situation to overwhelm my mother, giving the disease a chance to spread rapidly.

My mom knew this, and she gave me a weak, judgmental, but patient look with just her eyes. The rest of her face was blank, as if my mom's mental functions really weren't there anymore, or as if my mom were too sad or resigned to do much more than look me in the eye.

I was overwhelmed with guilt and full of sadness at the thought of my mother's approaching death. I grabbed my mom's right hand. There was some kind of sore or boil on the back of the hand. But I pressed my forehead against my mom's hand and wept deeply.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

sex with diapered co-worker

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I walked into a big bathroom like a public restroom and locker room for a gym. The light was bright and green-white fluorescent. I may have felt like there was a smell of urine in the air.

One of my old co-workers FA stood in the restroom. She and I may have been getting ready to go somewhere as part of work or school. But FA was wearing a dress, and somehow the skirt pulled up to reveal that FA was wearing a diaper. FA was now sitting on the ground, her legs spread wide open to show the diaper.

FA was embarrassed. Apparently she liked me (I've always had a crush on her -- she's married now) and she thought that I wouldn't like her if I knew she wore diapers.

I partly wanted to comfort FA and let her know I would like her no matter what. But I was also turned on by the fact that she was wearing a diaper. I put my face closer to FA's diaper. It looked like she'd peed in it a little. I probably then moved myself upward to I could embrace FA. Her dress was pushed up all the way up over her shoulders. I embraced FA's naked chest.

FA was getting hot, but she didn't want to act like she was. She seemed to be a little annoyed by me. I think she didn't want to admit she liked me (this would kind of make sense -- she's tall and beautiful, and I'm short and nerdy.) But she also didn't want to stop me from doing anything.

I stood up and pulled one of FA's legs up. I then straddled her leg and started working my way down FA's leg. I was planning on doing something like scissoring with FA: I was stripped down to just my boxer briefs, and I really wanted to rub my crotch against FA's diaper.

But for some reason I was having so much difficulty just working my way back down into a sitting position. I thought to myself, Man! Scissoring isn't as easy as it looks! FA may have been patient with me, trying not to act like I was being awkward. Or FA may have had not personality at all at this point: she may have been like a doll or mannequin.

I now noticed that off to my right was a half-wall divider revealing a living room. The living room looked like an older woman's living room, and it was dim, with watery, green daylight flowing in through a gauzy-curtained front window.

My mom was in the living room with one or two other people. She may have looked over and called to me, to let me know it was time for us to take care of some stuff. My mom either didn't see the position I was in, or else she wanted to act like she didn't see, so I wouldn't be embarrassed.

Monday, March 25, 2013

worst pinball game ever

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in an arcade with a few other people who were probably around my age or five or ten years younger. We were playing pinball. I was standing near the pinball machine, watching instead of playing. I may have been watching a tall, beautiful, black-haired woman playing.

We then had to go upstairs. We probably went into a movie theater, but I think we were there for some kind of business meeting. A movie may have played.

The meeting was over, but I was now by myself. I took an escalator down from the upper level to the ground floor, where the arcade was. A huge window wall to my left let in a lot of grey light.

I was back down in the arcade. I stood in front of a pinball machine. I may have been surprised by the fact that the pinball machine started up a game without my having put a quarter inside. Somewhere off to my right and behind me, my mom was talking with some other person, maybe about some kind of illness, maybe a mental illness, my mom thought I had.

I started playing. I couldn't figure how to launch the ball out of the side slot and into the game area. But the ball launched itself. The ball bounced around in the game area and then fell toward the hole at the bottom.

The hole wasn't very big, it was located near the side slot, instead of in the middle of the bottom of the game area, and the paddle had the ability to stretch across the hole entirely. But either I couldn't figure out how to use the paddle, or else I was way too slow to use the paddle, and the ball fell right into the hole.

I got another ball, which appeared in the side slot presently. The ball launched into the game area, and somehow I, without even knowing how -- or really whether! -- it happened, got an extra ball.

The ball that had gotten me an extra ball disappeared, and another ball appeared in the side slot. But it launched up the side slot only weakly, then falling back down toward the bottom of the side slot. It actually fell out of the machine altogether, through some hole like a coin-return hole, then tumbled through the floor. I may have picked up the fallen ball and somehow put it back into the machine.

In the meantime, the extra ball I had gained was already bouncing around in the game area. I saw it just as it was falling toward the hole. There was a little bumper near the hole. The ball bounced against the bumper. I thought this would save the ball, or at least give me points or something special. But it didn't. The ball fell down through the hole. I didn't even use my paddle to stop it.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

avoiding old co-workers; it's not a date?!; the giant worm

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was apparently at my new job, though the building looked something like an art gallery. I had walked from a back area into a front room, something like a small reception area or lobby. A woman sat at the front desk.

The walls may have been made of large, white, tile-like squares. I may possibly have seen through the cracks between the tiles -- or possibly through the walls themselves, somehow -- to see that some people from my previous job were coming into this place. The people were walking through a dirt parking lot or a yellow-skied, desert-like landscape, and were right near the front door.

I had had a really terrible time with the people at my previous job (mostly, to be fair, due to my own bad emotional state at the time), and I didn't want those people to know where I worked nowadays. So as they approached the door I tried to hide myself. I did some weird thing where I threw myself on the ground and slid under a wall-mounted coat rack that was piled full with coats. I probably slid along like a worm, with my back to the wall, although I could see, maybe even see through, a tall, narrow window near the coats.

I eventually moved (by creeping or walking?) through a white-walled, white-lit hallway, and into a back area, which may have consisted of one or two unlit, empty, plaster-walled rooms. I milled around back there, knowing that the people from my job were out in the front area. I was waiting for them to leave. But now it sounded like they were coming back here. I had to find a way to get out of here.

I walked out the two rooms. Before the two rooms and behind the hallway was some kind of unfinished space -- just concrete floors, frames, and wires. On the wall to my right was a door leading outside. I headed for it.

But just as I headed for the door, two Hispanic men, whom I recognized as being from my job, though I didn't know who they were, walked in. The two men looked a little old and roughened. At least one of them may have worn black sunglasses.

The men were polite. They smiled shyly at me. They seemed only vaguely to recognize me. But I still worried that they would spread news about someone who looked like me to everybody else who'd come here. And I really didn't want the people who knew me well to know I worked here. But I also felt like the people were going to tell on me, anyway. I thought it wasn't any use trying to leave the building now. I figured I might as well follow the two men, even though I knew they were heading toward the people who knew me.

Dream #2

It was a sunny day. I was out in some area that felt like a long, narrow city park (kind of like Riverside Park in New York City), but also had some feeling of being an amusement park. There were probably a lot of people around, heading from ride to ride, though I really saw neither the people nor the rides.

I was somehow interacting with my co-worker SC, possibly through speaking, but likely through email or texting. But I probably never actually saw the phone on which I was texting.

SC and I had previously arranged to meet sometime. But I had kind of been dragging my feet to meet with her. So I was telling SC why I'd been dragging my feet. I told SC that I felt like I looked really ugly at the moment, and that I hadn't really been taking care of stuff, like my clothes and eyeglasses. I told SC that I didn't think I'd want her to go out on a date with someone who was as much of a mess as I.

SC responded that I was being really silly. We weren't, after all, even going out on a date! We were just making plans to hang out together, as friends. So if we were just hanging out as friends, why should I worry about how I looked, or whether I was a mess? SC said it all seemed really vain, in her opinion.

As SC said all of this, I walked down a small, shallow slope. Set into the slope was a concrete frame with wooden doors, like the entrance to a storm cellar. I also had the feeling of people, maybe in park worker uniforms, rushing around nearby, like in a battle scene.

I lay along the right side of the concrete frame and began texting SC -- even though I still may not have seen my phone. I responded that I agreed with what SC said, and that I should be less worried. But I was also a litle disappointed. She didn't think we were going out on a date? Why not?!

Dream #3

It was probably late afternoon in the suburbs, with a cool, grey-blue sky overhead. I'd walked out, probably from a backyard, and into a front yard. But the front yard seemed more like pavement than lawn.

I lifted my leg to get over a gigantic worm. I then stood near a mailbox. It took me a second, but I then realized that I'd just stepped over a gigantid worm. I turned around to look at it. The worm was an earthworm, but at least two meters long and maybe 25cm in diameter. It was lingering in a patch of mud-slicked, wet pavement. Its body was mostly plump and round, though its back end was kind of shriveled and purple. I noticed that it had fine, white hairs (???) all along its body.

I pulled out my phone, hoping to take a picture of the worm, so I could prove to people outside my dream (???), especially my ex-girlfriend H, that I'd seen the worm. But as soon as I pointed the phone at the worm, the worm began moving, kind of quickly.

The worm squirmed into the street and then up the street. I stood for a moment, trying to catch it. I may have taken one photo of the worm. But the photo may have been blurry, and it may have made the worm look really small.

I tried to follow after the worm, but now it began moving really quickly. It may even have begun hopping away. A car or two drove down the road. The worm barely missed getting hit. Then another car drove down the road. The worm somehow used that car as a distraction. It headed quickly for the curb as the car passed between it and me. When the car had passed, the worm, it seemed to me, had vanished. I looked around for a few seconds, but I could no longer see the worm.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

flying over construction; as long as i live; medicine hunt; photos of youth; see the sun

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I had just left my mother, brother, and sister. I was probably walking along a wooded path or road, but I soon began flying.

I may have been a little surprised and excited that I could fly. After a little while I may have lost my ability to fly. But I got it back and started flying again.

I was still in the woods at night, but I was now flying over some kind of construction scene. There were deep trenches or pits supported by wooden beams and filled with busy workers in orange vests and hardhats. There may have been pylons somewhere, which may have looked like construction cones mixed with Greek columns.

I think some of the workers may have noticed me, but they might not have thought much of me, or they might have been in a kind of thoughtless state altogether. But I really didn't want to get the men's attention: I felt like it could only be bad attention, because they would be jealous of or frightened by my flight. So I flew away, off to my right, probably over a stretch of barren tree tops.

Dream #2

It was a blue night or morning. I sat out on something like a ledge of scaffolding, out on the side of a tall but plain building like a cinder block apartment building. The building was probably in the middle of a wilderness, with the land around it cleared out. Some people below were working, maybe on the building.

I was a skinny, bald, white man, maybe old, and not wearing a shirt. My skin was a little rough and reddish-tan. My chest was misted over with curls of white (or grey-blonde?) hair.

Some young man poked his head out of a window I sat near. He asked me something. I knew my answer would have something to do with something I'd written in a notebook, maybe a notebook I was still writing in. But I couldn't answer the question while sitting out on the ledge: it was like to find the answer I'd have to twist my body around, putting myself at risk of falling right off the ledge.

I decided to pull myself back inside. I somehow pulled myself backward, in through a window, until I was lying on my back on a long, hefty, wooden table. I had the notebook with me. I pulled it out so I could read the answer to the young man.

But I was now in a car, probably with my family. I probably sat in the backseat. The car was a small, red car, like a European mini-car. We were still in the building, driving away from the window. We drove up a corridor ramp, like a corridor in an airport, except that it was dim, like it was in a stage of construction where no lights had yet been put in the ceiling.

I was reading from the notebook. The passage I read was apparently about some kind of mystical experience I'd had when I had been looking out over some kind of landscape. But it was written in a really scraggly cursive.

The last line was supposed the most important line of the passage. But there were sections of writing that were so poorly written that I couldn't read them at all. At first I thought the line was an ominous, almost horrific, statement about the author's and my (as if I were no longer the author) fates.

I had to take some time deciphering the writing. I even seemed to be scratching out or scratching over some of the writing. I finally had the statement figured out: "I'll never forget the sight as long as I live." So, I reflected, the statement was, actually, just a statment of beauty.

Dream #3

I was in the living room of a house like the house my family lived from the time I was eleven until about the time I was fifteen. But the living room was cluttered with all kinds of things. There was a knee-high gate around all the clutter, almost like the entrance to an amusement park for little kids.

A couple of my little nephews and my niece were messing around in all this clutter. At some point I'd been required to find something, which may have served as a medicine. Somehow my niece knew what I was looking for. She said she knew that the item was in the clutter. She even knew just where it was.

Somehow my niece, in going after the item, had managed instantly to clear away a path in the clutter, as well as clearing away a whole pile of clutter that had covered a clear, plastic bin in which the item apparently was packed. The clear, plastic bin was packed with objects, maybe like china ware, wrapped up in clear plastic wrap, like Saran wrap.

I probably doubted that my niece would actually find what I needed to locate. But I let her continue to look -- partly out of kindness and partly, probably, because I was really amazed by the facility with which she'd cleared away all the clutter.

Dream #4

I had been looking through a series of family photos, probably of a vacation, and probably to reminisce, helping myself come to terms with the memory of my grandmother, who had recently died.

I flipped through the photos, none of which I can now remember, until I came to the final photo, which almost faded into my vision or dawned on my vision the same way an idea might dawn upon one's consciousness.

The photo was a low-angle shot of my brother, my sister, and me, as children, all dressed up, in a marching, and maybe saluting, pose, with a Chinese flag up behind us in the distance, fluttering in the blue sky. The photo was kind of blurry. I somehow knew the title of the photo was "Goodbye, Grandma."

Dream #5

A Rose Is Rose comic strip. A little boy was playing in the playground with his mother on a sunny day. But the colors were all dim and drab. The boy remarked that all day long, the boy had been out here, but he'd never seen the sun.

In the last frame, the mother walked away, leaving the boy at the swingset. The boy stood facing the departing mother. Behind the boy a wave of fire-like orange like loomed forward, implying something like a sunrise, like the colors of the sunny day would finally burst forth.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

fetish-dress thrift shop; goodbye, grandma

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I walked into a clothing store or thrift shop with my mother. The store was dim, as if no lights were on in the store and the only light was the light coming in from outdoors. The store felt kind of busy with people.

My mom was, I think, heading to a fitting room to try on some clothes. I was following her, but I got distracted by a rack of clothes near the fitting room. There was a pink gingham dress with a belled out skirt, almost like a cosplay dress, on the rack. The rack was tall, so that the knee-length skirt hung just above my eye level. I was really turned on by the dress and I wanted to try it on, but I didn't want my mom to know I liked wearing dresses, especially sissy-style dresses like this one.

But I continued looking through the rack. The rack was long and nearly empty, so that all the dresses were widely spaced. There was another dress with a pink, gingham style. It had a long skirt in back, but the front of the skirt was sectioned away, as if some other piece of clothing were supposed to be placed underneath it. I felt like this dress must have been intended for fetish, as the shortness of the front seemed to imply a sexual readinesss.

I turnes around the end of the rack and walked along the other side, which was closer to the fitting room. One dress caught my eye. It was like a ballet dress, with a top like a spaghetti-strap tank-top and a tutu that spread out flat and wide. This dress struck me at first as being for a little girl. But then it struck me as being more like a fetish outfit, a sissy's outfit.

The last outfit that caught my eye could hardly be called a dress. It was like a couple of hula hoops connected by a thin skein of gauzy, pink fabric. There was a red sphere near the top of the hoops. I had the feeling that this "outfit" was supposed to express something about atomic physics. But it was also supposed to be a girly, sissyish outfit. I couldn't even figure out how to put the outfit on!

Now my boss JE walked out of the fitting room. It was like he, instead of my mother, had been in there the whole time. We began walking toward the exit of the store. I may have worried about what JE would think of me if he knew that I was into wearing the dresses I'd been looking at. I thought that JE must already have seen me looking at the dresses.

Dream #2

I was with my mother and grandmother in a room like a living room or the waiting room of a hospital. The light was dim and warmly yellow. My grandmother and I sat on a couch. I faced my grandma, who sat huddled up in blankets, maybe sitting cross-legged underneath the blankets. My mom sat somewhere behind me.

My grandma was telling me about an operation she was going to have. She was speaking strangely about this operation, as if she had already died during the surgery, or as if it were almost certain that she would die. She mentioned some of the details about the surgery, which would be on her heart, and why death during the surgery was almost a forgone conclusion.

I didn't want to believe that things were that bad. I wanted to believe there was hope. I said some positive things, hoping to get myself and my grandmother to believe that she would survive/had survived the operation.

But my grandmother stopped me. She said her heart was in really bad condition. She may have told me that the left half of her heart was already or nearly dead. She told me that if she awoke during the operation she would tell the doctors, "Give me the milk!" The milk was, apparently, a chemical that doctors would give their patients to help them die.

I now knew that even my grandma wanted to die. She was resigned and calm about the whole thing. But I was still sad. I said, "Oh, Grandma..." and caressed my grandma's face. My grandma tried to comfort me by touching the hand that caressed her face. But now I realized I was caressing my grandma's face with my foot, not my hand!

Friday, March 15, 2013

casket shrine of the mystic river

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was with a group of people who were younger than I, maybe in their early twenties, on the banks of some river passage between two rocky cliffs. The sky was dark and swirly. In some way, it felt like we were inside rather than outside.

We all had to jump into the river. There were holes or chutes in the bottom of the river. I knew the chutes were lit, like the lights in swimming pools. There was some spherical stone we all had to touch. The stone was polished and black, but it also had a dim, blue-grey glow to it. The stone gave people who rubbed it extra gravity, which allow people to sink all the way to the bottom of the river and through the chutes.

Almost everybody, it seemed, had jumped into the river. The only person remaining, other than myself, I could see was a boy who looked like Justin Bieber. I was having some misgivings about jumping into the river. I felt like someone was trying to get me in trouble by having me jump into the river.

My view shifted. I was now out on a street like a residential street in some stereotypical musical about late-1800s London. It was pouring rain. A long, cream-colored, old-style car drove slowly along the road. I had the feeling that this car held the body (?) of a young man. The car belonged to a mafia-type group that was basically been aiming to frame the young man, whom I may have thought of as both myself and the Justin Beiber-like boy. The group wanted the boy in prison.

My view now shifted to the backyard (?) of some huge mansion that probably had an Asian style to it. It was night, and the rain was still pouring down. My view was mostly taken up by a pool or pond that was surrounded by a pagoda- or shrine-like structure. The shrine was tall and multi-tiered, but none of the tiers had a ceiling.

A man in an old, black, Asian-style outfit and black, round-framed glasses sat at the edge of the pool. The man was the head of the crime organization against the young man.

The man watched as a nice, cream-colored (?) casket rose up out of the pool. It rose up, but it may have been like it was actually descending. The man was upset by this. This casket probably held the young man's dead body. The crime boss hadn't wanted the young man dead: the young man was dear to the crime-boss somehow; the crime-boss had only wanted the young man disabled, imprisoned.

The crime-boss was also upset by the casket getting wet. It meant that the young man's body was also likely getting wet. This may have been bad befause it prevented the young man from coming back to life, or because it was uncomfortable to the young man, if he were alive, or because it was a dishonor to the young man's memory.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

great grandmother wants to kill me

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was in front of my great grandmother's house. I may have been sent to check on my great grandma because she was sick. (My great grandma had actually died a few years ago.)

I walked up the steps to my grandma's house. The screen door was closed, but the front door was at least halfway open. My grandma was just inside, kneeling on the floor in some kind of meditative position.

My grandma was so still, I was almost sure she was dead. I thought I had gotten here too late. But then she stood up. I knew, as I think everybody in my family knew, that my grandma was going to die soon.

My grandma was acting weird and saying weird, drifty things. She walked out of the living room and into her bedroom. She returned with a container of Vaseline and a pair of scissors behind her back. I thought she was going to kill me.

I probably ran out of the house in fear. I got to the edge of my grandma's yard and then stopped running. I started talking about how I remembered all the nice stuff my grandma had done with me when I was a child.

I turned around and addressed my grandma, who stood outside her door. I walked back over to my grandma and spoke with her a little more. We were now leaning against the railing of the steps, as if we, or at least my grandma, were the height of a child.

My grandma, I saw, had dropped a blade like a scalpel on the ground. I knew that my grandma actually had been planning to kill me. But our talk had mellowed her anger.

We walked back inside. My grandma went back into her room. But now a few other members of my family were here, including my mom, and probably also my sister. It was like we were all here for my grandma's funeral, or to be with my grandma as she died.

My mom and I walked into the kitchen. My mom gave me a pile of mail which had been directed to me, though it had apparently come to my mom's house. It was a bunch of large-size envelopes. One of the envelopes may have had a post-it note on it saying "FOR YOU?"

I opened a couple of the envelopes. They came from a couple different apartment complexes. They started out as late rent notices, then they became eviction notices. I walked with these envelopes back into the living room.

Some other family member of mine may have addressed me, causing me to turn around. My family members may have been talking about me or my grandma as if one of us were physically or mentally ill.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

process drawback informative

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a hospital. I was in a room like a general practitioner's visiting room, except bigger and a little emptier. The room was probably supposed to be something like a waiting room. I was sitting either on the floor or on a chair very low to the floor.

My mom may just have had some operation, maybe on her heart. I'm pretty sure she was out of the operation, even awake. But she was in some other room. She could only take visitors periodically. This probably had to do with her recovery, like while we weren't allowed to visit her, she was going through some recovery process as dangerous as surgery, through which she may not survive.

My aunt was in the room with me. She held some device, kind of like a cell phone, which allowed her to do something like hear into my mom's room, but not exactly. My aunt was acting concerned for my mom, but then she started acting really strange. I had the feeling she'd get violent about my mom. I didn't want her to be around my mom. But then she was gone. I may have seen her leave through the cluttered area of a dim hospital hallway.

I was back in the room, which was now somehow like a narrow laboratory or kitchen. There were no lights on in the room. The room was illuminated dim blue, like from an early morning sky, except that there were probably no windows in the room.

I received a phone call, maybe on a wall phone, from one of the doctors. He was explaining something to me about the operation a second doctor, maybe named Eric, had done on my mom.

The doctor, who had a kind of Asian accent, said he understood if I was a little concerned about the operation that had been done on my mom. As the doctor explained, I was stirring the dregs of something like hot chocolate in a huge, plastic canister, with something like a wooden spoon.

The doctor explained that the operation was some kind of new technique, a "Japanese" technique. The new techniques were all being performed on patients who couldn't afford regular doctors. The techniques were uncertain, so it was understood that I'd be a little annoyed that my mother had had to go through the new procedure.

I was now going in to visit my mom. I crossed the hallway from my room to my mom's room. The hallway may have been cluttered with workers, all pushing around tall carts like meal-tray carts, except that the carts may have had sheets in them.

My mom's room door was open. I was a little shocked to see that there were a couple carts in my mom's room as well. It was like the workers, maybe even the doctors, were using my mom's room as a storage area, with no regard for her status as a recovering patient.

I peered my way around the carts cluttering my mom's bed. I saw my mom. Apparently, now, this was the first time I'd seen my mom since her operation. She wasn't hooked up to any tubes. But she looked really weak, and I thought she was near death.

My mom lolled her head over to look at me. She then sat up. I noticed how my mom's hair had been cut, so that now it was maybe only 20cm long. I thought my mom would be upset to know the doctors had done that to her, even though I knew the doctors had had no choice: they'd had to cut my mom's hair to put brain-monitors on her skull.

My mom now told me how she was upset about something. She virtually hopped off the bed and onto the floor. I winced. My mom had just had her chest cracked open for a heart surgery. Jostling herself around like that would really injure her wound.

My mom reached up onto some shelf (?) over the counter of a table. She pulled down some kind of signature form. She told me that she was really angry at the doctors, and that she was thinking of suing them.

Before the surgery the doctors had made my mom sign this form. Now my mom had read the back of the form, which had something on it called a "process drawback informative." This meant, my mom said, that the doctors were basically given permission, after the first surgery, to conduct more procedures or to determine other elements of the patient's recovery, regardless of the patient's wishes.