Dream 1
I walked down some wide, marble steps into a large, tall area, the floors and walls of which were like marble. The place was a shopping mall. The lighting in the space was dim. There were a few people milling around. In the back left corner were probably a few food shops, like for a food court.
I may have been with someone. I may have been speaking with them. But the person I was with, or just some person in the mall, interrupted me. They asked me whether I didn't know about the mall. They then pointed to a sign at the foot of the stairs.
I looked at the sign, which was like a metallic plaque placed at an angle at the top of a waist-high brass pole. I knew the sign said that the mall had closed down. But I couldn't quite read the sign. The words were all blurry, like they were covered over with a sheet of plastic.
I turned around and looked at the mall. People were still here. So the mall wasn't completely closed down. And the food court shops were open. The only thing I'd really wanted to do was get some food. So maybe I could still do that. But I felt like if I even tried to get over to the food court, I'd be offending the person who just told me the mall was closing down.
I turned back toward the steps. The steps may now have looked like they were loosely covered over by a big sheet of plastic. I looked up to the top of the steps. The steps seemed to open directly out into a beautiful, blue night.
My view shifted up to the top of another set of steps. I may have been remembering an old commercial for the mall, maybe from the 1980s. A glamorous couple, maybe in their late forties, walk-danced their way down the steps. The man was in a tuxedo, but I barely saw him. The woman was in a red gown.
The couple were famous for their ads for a jewelry store, which was in the mall. This walk down the steps they were taking may have been a commercial from the 1980s. But it was also their last walk down the steps for the mall.
As the couple progressed down the steps, the woman became older, shorter, and less glamorous. She was speaking rather bluntly and possibly smoking a really terrible cigarette. The man was still hardly visible. There was a second woman coming down the steps, something like a servant or assistant for the couple.
The woman was discussing, maybe with the man or assistant, but possibly also with some member of the media, what the couple would do now that they would receive no more money from the jewelry commercials.
The woman tried to remained poised and polite at first. But then she started talking about how maybe she should go to the mall later, even if they were closed. She then spoke about taking some sort of action against either the owners of the mall or the owners of the jewelry shop. Whatever she wanted to do, I knew, would cause a lot of trouble for people. And that's all the woman really wanted to do.
Dream 2
I was down in a small, stuffy basement, possibly at night. I was standing on the side of some structure like a bunk bed. It may have been a bunk bed, but with framing like cheap, thin, stainless steel for some sort of outdoor structure. I was trying to do some sort of exercise on the bed, like pull-ups on the frame. But it wasn't working out.
I went to another bunk bed. A middle-aged man was seated off the side of the bed. I grabbed onto the frame of this bed, also made of cheap metal, and started doing some exercises.
The man smiled up at me and said, "I'm sorry I wasn't at the other bed. I know you were trying to do your exercises."
I had a feeling, looking at the man's smile, that he had meant to stop me from doing my exercises by not being at the other bed. I knew that now, even though I was doing my exercises, he'd hope to annoy me by making it clear he had meant to stop me.
I simply said, "Oh, it doesn't matter. That bed had the wrong exercises, anyway. I wasn't supposed to do those exercises today. I was supposed to do these ones." This was probably true. But I probably didn't need to say it, really. I just wanted to, to let the man know that even though he'd tried to stop me, I'd still succeeded at getting my exercises in.
I was now laying on a regular bed, reading a huge book. There was some noise coming from somewhere. I went into the kitchen, where the noise was coming from. The room was small and cramped, filled with a bunch of furniture, random stuff, garbage, and possibly huge sheets of plastic. There may also have been some leaking or dripping somewhere in the room.
The man was there. He may have been quite a bit older now, with a bald head and huge, watery eyes. He towered over me and looked down close to my face, blocking out the light from the ceiling bulb.
The man told me we were supposed to go somewhere. But I knew that wasn't true. I also knew I was supposed to be doing something else here. The man was just trying to pull me away from what I was really supposed to be doing, and he knew it. But when I told him I wasn't going anywhere, I could tell he was simply going to take that as an indication of how lazy and unwilling to work I was.
I was in a bedroom, laying on a bed and reading a huge book. The book may have been about Winston Churchill or about Winston Churchill and some other historical figure. I was getting through the book at a surprising speed. I knew that this book was incredibly important to some work I was getting ready to do. I couldn't believe I was finishing the book so quickly. I was really happy.
The bedroom I was in had a door on my left side and a door on my right side. Both doors connected the room to a whole lot more space. The door to my right opened into a long hallway.
The man stood in the doorway on my right side. He said he'd gotten back from wherever he'd gone, and wasn't it too bad that I'd not felt like going with him.
I was really mad that the man had said that. He was implying again that I'd been too lazy to go. But I'd gotten a lot done while he'd been gone -- including reading this book. I just wanted the man to leave the room. I was so close to finishing the book. I didn't want to argue with the man right now and lose my train of thought.
I was in a different room now. I may have thought of it as being upstairs from the bedroom I'd been in. The room was long and wide, with somewhat high ceilings. The floor was likely of polished stone, maybe with some black and white patterning on it. The man was in the room as well, discussing something with another, younger man. There may have been one or two other people in the room, off in the distance.
The two men were discussing some items of business we three needed to take care of. I had to be here for the conversation. But I knew that I really wasn't invited to say anything. Anything I said would be thought of as stupid and worthless. But the two men weren't really talking about getting any sort of business done at all. So I started to get bored.
I imagined some sort of game using the colors of the floor, like avoiding certain colors on the floor by jumping over them. I sort of regretted that the colors on the floor weren't in a nice checkerboard pattern, because that would make my game a lot more practical.
The men now discussed getting in touch with someone from the media. There was a local TV station, possibly a local PBS channel, that always had a really good news show on. The news show starred these two guys. And it was always a good idea to get interviewed on their show. But the guys couldn't remember the name of the show.
I couldn't quite remember the name of the show. But I had a vague idea. I called out, "It's something like The Ron Paul Show, isn't it?"
The two men laughed. One of them derisively said, "No. It is definitely not Ron Paul."
The two men may have walked off to the other side of the room. I knew that the men were wrong. I may not have been totally right about the name of the show. But I was pretty sure that if the guy's name wasn't Ron Paul, it was pretty close. That had always been one of the things that had been interesting to me about the show, was how close the two names sounded.
I knew the guys wouldn't listen to me. So I gave up. I knew that likely I'd be vindicated when the guys learned that the name of the show was something like what I'd said. But I was sure that, even then, they wouldn't admit that I'd been right, and that they'd likely still try to make me feel stupid for what I'd said.
Dream 3
I was in some place like a diner. I sat at the counter. The counter apparently surrounded the kitchen on three sides. The back side was a wall, possibly with doors into another kitchen. The walls of the place may have been a dull, green color. The kitchen was really busy, as was the dining area.
A woman behind the counter was quickly, briskly fiddling around with some of the kitchen machinery. She was talking with some guy near me. The two of them were talking about some kind of business -- probably making movies or something. They were talking logistics, and it all had to do with why the man, but also the woman, had come to this place (maybe Minneapolis or somewhere in Wisconsin).
I felt like I may have been wanted as a part of the conversation. Something suddenly occurred to me. So I said that this was actually a great city for making movies.
I may have started to give some examples or some pointers, which I'd also thought were wanted. But the woman looked at me and said something like, this wasn't a great city for making movies, and that wasn't the reason she or the man had come here. The woman acted like I'd rudely distracted her and the man from their main discussion, so that they'd now have to figure out all over again what they were supposed to be doing.
I stayed quiet. I knew now that I really wasn't wanted as part of this conversation. But I also knew that I was probably right about what I'd said.
I was now in some sort of room, like a huge lounge where parties were thrown. The place may have been nicely furnished. It was supposed to be a nice place. But the ceilings were really low. So the place felt uncomfortably closed in. And there was clutter all over, so that it felt like the place was just being moved into or being vacated because it was being closed down.
There was a small crowd of people, all probably rich and well-dressed, in the room, kind of off to one corner of the room. I was there, but maybe just by sight, or maybe just as someone who was supposed to be there only as an observer.
A man knelt on the ground before the crowd, like he was meditating. He then stood up and conducted some sort of fight sequence. He may have fought some of the rich people. Or he may have ran toward the other side of the room, through a doorway and into another room, where he'd fought some hidden martial artists, eventually bringing the fight out to this room.
Now the scene repeated itself. It may have been like the scene was all an act and the meditating man had decided that he would repeat the scene for the better enjoyment of the spectators.
The man was Asian now. He was probably dressed in a tuxedo. He knelt on the ground again and meditated. He finished meditating and stood up. He got really close to the woman at the front of the crowd of rich people. The woman was old, maybe in her seventies or eighties. She was dressed in a shimmery flapper-style dress and headband with a feather, and she probably wore a lot of diamonds, as well as a monocle or pince nez eyeglasses.
The man explained to the woman how he was going to redo the fight. The martial artists now all came out into this main room. They fought. But it was also possible that now a lot of the rich people were being fought against. Or it may have been that the rich people felt that this fight could get out of hand and eventually involve the rich people.
I now sat back up in the diner. It was like the scene between the man, the woman, and me was being repeated. But it was also like we'd still had our previous discussion.
The man and woman were still trying to figure out why they were in this town. They knew it was good for getting into the movie business. But they were sure that wasn't why. The woman had a piece of paper, which she may have called a deed. And she wasn't even sure why she had it.
I called out again to the woman, asking her if she really wasn't here because of the movie business. I said everything she and the man kept talking about really made it sound like she was here because of the movie business.
The woman and the man were now pretty annoyed with me. They both kind of ganged up on me, told me that they were absolutely not here because of the movie business, and basically made it clear they both thought I knew nothing. The woman and the man went back to talking.
A woman seated to my right, maybe a friend of mine, asked for my attention. She then asked me to pay attention to the deed the woman was talking about. The woman behind the counter, even though she was still fiddling around with all the kitchen machinery (not really making any food), was holding the deed in her hand.
The deed now appeared before me, maybe as if the woman seated to my right were now holding it. The paper wasn't whole. It was like rectangles of it had been cut out. And the words on it were either vanishing or had already vanished.
I knew the deed said something specifically related to this place (maybe now Minnesota, or just "MN," instead of Minneapolis or Wisconsin). But the words were either too hard to read or were already gone. So I couldn't figure it out.
So now I knew that the deed was the reason the woman was really here. But I didn't know what the deed led to. And I felt like I still wanted to help the woman and man figure out the answer to their mystery. But I also felt like I was simply not wanted by them. They didn't think I knew anything. And they didn't want my help. In fact, I even started to wonder whether the woman seated to my right hadn't been nice to me only so she could shut me up and stop me from annoying the woman and man, who were actually her friends, maybe even her employers.
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