stalkers and john malkovich; a lesbian duck?; the greatest of all time; afraid of love

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was probably in a huge pickup truck that my mom was driving. We'd come from out in the country, and we were driving through rolling fields of grass.

I don't know what we'd been doing out in the country. But my mom was now telling me how she used to take my nephews out to this area with their sheep -- apparently the family used to own sheep. The family would actually take cows and sheep down to this area. The cows were sold as food.

The sheep actually carried the cows on their backs. I saw in my mind's eye how this was done. A cow would be cut open and have its guts hollowed out. Then the empty carcass of the cow was sat over the sheep's back, so that it looked like the sheep was giving the cow a ride. It would have looked playful, had the cow not been all bloody.

Something about the sheep was also sold, but I don't know what. The main thing my mom spoke about regarding the sheep was how my family had gotten the sheep to eat so well. The sheep must originally have had a hard time grazing while they were out in the country. But my family got the sheep trained to eat out on the rolling pastures, and to eat the grass in such an orderly way that they'd create huge, even, smooth-lined squares of eaten grass.

I had been noticing a big, green pickup truck following our truck for some time. I could see the guy in the truck: he was a young, blonde man who looked like he lived in my apartment complex. I told my mom that that man had been set on me to follow me in the past. He had now been set on following me again today.

Somehow the green pickup truck got in front of us. There were three big, white semi-trucks in front of us. The green pickup wedged itself in between the second and third semis. So there were two trucks in front of the pickup, one truck behind it, and then my mom's pickup.

I told my mom, "Now watch. The truck didn't mean to get in front of us. But now that it did, it will find the perfect opportunity to get back behind us. It's been following me all day today. I have people following me all the time."

Without my noticing it my mom and I shifted into a public bus. We sat side by side in a seat. The bus was relatively empty. The daylight in the bus seemed a bit brighter and whiter than usual. The light inside the bus may actually have been bright and white.

I told my mom, "The same thing used to happen in Brooklyn. People used get set on me, to follow me around. It's just a different set of people. Out here in Denver they have a group of blonde haired, blue eyed guys following me around. People set these kids on me, to follow me wherever I go."

Suddenly some guy sitting in front of us looked back. He was sitting in some weird way, either like he was in a sideways seat, or like he was crouched on the floor, facing so that his right profile faced me and my mom.

But now that he looked straight at us, I could see that he was John Malkovich. But he was all done up in camouflage. He wore a mainly white, tan, and brown camo design on his pants, shirt, and even on a woolen skullcap. He had the design painted onto his face and hands as well. His eyes were also bugging out, like he was insane.

John Malkovich asked me something about the stalkers. He then took one or both of my hands with both of his hands and began stroking them while he made a weird kind of blowing "O" with his mouth. He started giving me some advice about the stalkers. But he then ran back to the back of the bus.

The back of the bus tiered up into a platform of seats. In the first row on that platform was an Hispanic man who looked drunk and passed out. Malkovich sat beside that guy and started almost cuddling his head against him. He then began telling the man about me, like Malkovich was actually a stalker himself, and like he was passing off information to the man, who was only pretending to be drunk and passed out.

Malkovich then ran back to me and started telling me things about stalkers. It all sounded kind of crazy, and I don't remember any of it.

Dream #2

A woman had been taking care of a white swan, which I probably called a duck in my dream. The woman was a really beautiful, copper skinned woman with dark black hair. At first when the woman had cared for the duck, the duck would always bite the woman. The duck may have bit the woman all over her body, but I think one place the duck always bit the woman was on the mouth. It would hurt really bad. The woman even got to a point where she wanted to kill or get rid of the duck.

But then the woman taught the duck how to read and write. The duck had apparently been biting the woman because she didn't know how to communicate with the woman. But now that she could read and write, her life was a lot more open and free and a lot more frustrating.

The duck was now writing something on a pad of paper and showing it to my view, as if my view were actually a camera filming some kind of documentary. The view may have been set in a small bathroom, where the duck and the woman were standing close together. The duck may have been up on some kind of pedestal, so that her head was even with the woman's head.

The writing pad said something about how grateful the duck was to the woman, and how the duck would show her gratitude to the woman by giving her a kiss. So the duck stretched out her neck and "kissed" the woman by biting her softly on the upper lip.

This shocked the woman. It hurt her a little bit, though not as much as the previous bites had hurt. But the woman started to wonder whether the duck was getting violent again. She had given only a soft bite this time. But what if the bites got harder and harder? The woman would be in pain all over again.

My view panned down toward the bottom of the duck, then down toward the top section of the pedestal, where it kind of halted, just looking at the blank space of the pedestal. I was a little worried, as well, about the sudden biting of the duck. But I also considered the fact that the duck had "kissed" the woman. What it the kisses between the duck and the woman got more passionate? Would the duck and the woman eventually become lesbian lovers?

Dream #3

I was at some job which was like a mix of my most recent job with the duties of a lot of my past jobs. I had been set on some task. But I was wearing really dirty clothes. I may also have been wearing women's clothes, maybe even just women's lingerie. I really needed to change my clothes before I got to work on my task.

So I walked into the living room of some townhome or ground level apartment unit. The living room was small and well furnished, but also cluttered with a bunch of neglected belongings. I had a backpack full of clothes.

I began trying to pull clothes out of the backpack. But every time I began to pull something out, I'd hesitate. I had pairs of men's underwear, but they all seemed to be dirty and sour in really gross ways. Some may even have been hard with filth. I had a bad feeling I'd just have to wear one of these pairs of dirty underwear. I'd hope nobody would smell or see or notice in some other way how disgusting my underwear was.

My emotions or focus shifted, and suddenly I was just getting ready to walk out the door, like I was fully dressed and ready to go. I slung my backpack over my right shoulder. As I headed toward the door, opened it, and looked down at some turned-off lamp on an end table next to the door, I had some conversation in my head.

The conversation seemed to be partly me talking to myself about a conversation and partly the actual conversation, which involved a group of people who studied mysticism with Carlos Castaneda. These people were saying that Castaneda was the greatest magician of all time. But that qualification would get mixed up with saying that Castaneda was the greatest Research Analyst of all time. And that statement would get mixed up with my co-workers saying that I was the greatest Research Analyst of all time.

Dream #4

I was looking at a catalog that was kind of done up like a porn magazine. But it was really something like a monthly who's who of sex and fetish in every state in the United States. The pages were a brick red kind of color, and there were grids of photos on each page. Most of the photos showed attractive women wearing lingerie or bikinis. The women were usually sitting, but in very seductive poses. Below each photo was a description of the woman and her particular fetish. At the top of each page was yellow, script-like writing in a kind of "California cool" style.

I flipped to the Colorado section, hoping to find a woman who would be into transvestites or adult babies. But, for some reason, the more I looked through the Colorado section, the more afraid I got. I felt some sense of danger regarding the women. I can't remember what the sense of danger came from. I may have seen or thought that some of the women were actually men dressed as women.

But there was something else I was afraid of -- like contacting any of these women would lead either to my personal information being stolen, or to scandalous information about me being shared on a wide scale. I even began to feel like just looking at the pictures of the women and men would somehow "transmit" my information to whatever place was ready to hurt me.

I quickly flipped to some other section of the catalog. I think I allowed myself to feel attracted to the girls in this section of the catalog. But I think that after a moment, I may have become bored with the catalog and put it away.

whale bones; trampoline space launch; old friend on stairwell

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out in some dark place. It felt like I was walking through city streets in the dark, just, perhaps, by the light of the moon. But it also felt like I was walking through a dark living room.

There was the feeling of the presence, or the threatened presence, of some man. He was a bad man, maybe some kind of criminal. I had to protect either myself or some people I knew against the man.

I was now looking out at some dark grey sky. I heard people in my head, one of them an adult woman, telling me how either I or someone else had managed to stop something bad from happening. I thought to myself that it was a good thing I'd listened to someone who'd told me something. If I hadn't listened, the bad incident wouldn't have been averted.

I now saw up in the sky a huge structure. It had the shape of a whale. But from tip to tip it looked like the ribs of a whale. At first the whale had been full of a substance like dim, golden light. But the dim, golden light was taken over by some gloppy, grey-black substance. I knew that that was good. The golden light was bad, and the black substance was good.

Dream #2

I was walking down a staircase. The wall to my left was made of a very nice, heavy wood. The wall to my right was either there or was made of some transparent material, like plexiglass or even some sort of netting.

Somehow I knew that down below, where I was heading by the staircase, there was some sort of trampoline exhibition going on. A bunch of people had won a few different trampoline jumping or dancing contests. Now they were here, gathered all together, to display their talents.

Most of the winners had been like 1950s style sexy girls. The girls had mostly won contests for how sexy they could do trampoline jumping/dancing. In my mind's eye I saw one of these girls: an older, heavy-looking blonde woman who wore a leotard of blue and silver sequins and some hat of the same material.

The woman did some dance where she's wiggle her legs really fast while she was in the air, like a shrimp swimming. I didn't find it sexy at all. The woman may have had a poodle with her.

I could hear, as if in my head, the event organizers, two older men, one of whom was my friend, talking about how I had won a trampoline contest. I thought that I'd also have to compete. I didn't want to do some silly, supposedly sexy dance. I also didn't know if I'd be able to show any real skill on the trampoline.

But I started some kind of an act in my head, rehearsing the moves I'd make. I knew I'd be able to carry everything out and make it look okay, as long as I kept everything simple. I hoped that keeping it simple wouldn't disappoint my audience.

But the event organizer who was my friend said that I wasn't going on after all. My friend said something like I was too tired to do the contest.

I imagined lifting upward on the trampoline. I looked upward. I could see up the side of some building in the daytime. I was then high up in the air. I may have been a couple thousand feet up in the air. I was in a space capsule, like the SpaceX Dragon. I may have been in there with another person.

Somehow we could see down below us, as if a huge portion of the capsule were just a window. We were flying through the air, as if the capsule were under its own jet control.

It was now suddenly like th capsule had its top, a big, wide circle, wide open. I sat leaning along the rim, my head hanging out of the capsule. We were flying kind of sideways. 

But I think the other guy may have tried to impress me by making the capsule go upside down. I was slightly disoriented. My entire field of view was taken up by the green landscape below. I also feared that I would soon have a hard time keeping myself secured against the wall of the craft, and that I would fall out.

We were now heading for a pond. This would be where we made our final descent. As we approached the pond, we flipped back upwards. When the capsule splashed into the pond, I feared that we would be submerged, and that the capsule would get filled with water and sink down to into the pond. But not a drop of water reached up over the rim of the capsule. We began floating, bobbing up and down with no problem.

I was now in a basement, watching a replay of this scene. The basement was like a bedroom. But instead of beds, the bedroom just had tons of blankets all over the place.

There was a young man, maybe 17 or 18 years old, in the bedroom with me. I had been laying on my stomach while watching the TV replay. I rolled over and turned back to the boy behind me. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching another TV.

I asked the young man how the inside of the capsule didn't get any water in it on the splashdown. The young man and I were still in the bedroom. But instead of being on blankets, we now seemed to be coming out of some object like a small, collapsed tent. The fabric of this tent-like thing was silver. And the bottom of the thing, the only thing with a hardness to it, was lens-shaped. This thing had been our space capsule.

The young man may have told me the capsule hadn't gotten any water in it because I'd done a good job of getting the capsule down. He definitely also told me that the capsules were built that way. He said they were ultra buoyant, so that they'd always float high enough for the capsules never to get any water in them. The boy then may have walked up a stairwell out of the basement. I may have followed.

It was now night. I was looking up the side of a building like a castle. I could hear people in my head talking about a number of space launches that had recently occurred. Many were of vehicles like the SpaceX vehicle. But others were of different companies' vehicles.

I was supposed to have been a part of the launches. But one of the guys organizing the launches, a man who was an astronaut and a friend of mine, had taken me out of the launches.

I could see the man in my mind's eye. He looked a little bit like Neil Armstrong. The man had told everybody I couldn't do a launch because I'd been scheduled for some kind of flight which would occur the next day. The man would be coming on this flight with me.

I was near some place like a lake. I started walking away from the tall building. I realized the man was right. I couldn't waste my energy on a launch if I was going to be doing a flight. In fact, I needed to conserve my energy much better in order to do this upcoming flight. And I shouldn't talk to anybody about the flight, either.

The sky was just becoming silvery blue in preparation for sunrise. I walked up some stone path on a wide slope. The stone path led to a house or villa. The villa was fenced all around with a stone wall.

I looked over my shoulder and to my right, down the slope. A small group of people were walking up toward the path up the slope. There were a couple horses with the people.

One of the horses, a beautiful, red-brown horse, spotted me. The people couldn't control the horse. It ran up the slope toward me. I didn't know whether the horse was kind or violent. I just turned around and kept walking up the slope, resigning myself to having the horse do whatever it was going to do to me.

The horse came up along my left side, slowly poking its head into my field of view. It kept on sticking out its tongue. It had a huge, awkward looking head and a big, fat tongue.

I took a chance and began petting the horse's head. I said, "Hi there, horsey," in a high-pitched, cooing voice like I might use when I talk to babies.

The people now came up from behind me. They drew the animal I'd been petting up beside me, too. The animal had a low, fat body. It kind of disoriented me at first. Then I realized that the animal was a cow.

We all headed into the villa through a thick, wooden gate in the stone wall fence. I was embarrassed by my mistaken perception. I told everybody, "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I called your cow a horse."

Dream #3

I was walking down a staircase in a bookstore. I was heading down into the basement. There were a lot of people on the stairwell. But almost everybody seemed to be heading up while I was heading down.

One of the people I saw heading up the staircase was one of my old best friends. I hadn't seen her in years. She had really short hair, almost in a boyish cut.

I was surprised when I first saw her. But I didn't say anything to her. A couple steps farther down I either said or thought of saying, "Hey!" to get my friend's attention.

At the bottom of the steps I stopped altogether. I half-turned, so that my left side was facing up the stairs. A lot of people were still heading upstairs. I thought for a moment of calling up the stairs to get my friend's attention.