Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I walked into what seemed like a night club for very wealthy people. The place had a dark atmosphere, an all the men and women wore beautiful tuxedos and dresses. The place was incredibly crowded. I found a seat at the very back.
At the front was a stage where a couple men were performing. Their act was part of a benefit for something having to do with one of the most important men in this crowd. There were musical instruments and microphone stands up on stage, like for a rock band. But this act seemed to be more of a stand-up comedy or comedy sketch act. Both men were dressed in a modern style, kind of shabby, wearing flimsy t-shirts and black jeans, and having long, scraggly hair.
As the act continued, one man was left alone on stage. The man now sat down in a chair. He was suddenly dressed in a black velvet dress. He wore a skull-hugging hat and possibly a necklace, both made of something like diamonds. He was dressed as a woman, but he was acting like a transvestite. This transvestite had just been asked to a dance that was a big social event among the wealthy.
The transvestite began giving a monologue, but through voice over, a loudspeaker playing his words, as if they were his thoughts, while he sat still, without moving his lips. The thoughts began with wondering how he should act at the dance. But they eventually turned to some boy, whom the transvestite may have liked.
This act all became too plainly a mockery of the son of important rich man in whose honor this ball was being thrown. It was in bad taste to make fun of the son at this event, possibly because the rich man was sensitive about his son, but possibly because the son had actually died not too long ago.
The man playing the transvestite knew he needed to tone down his act, or change it altogether, before the important rich man ruined his career. So the man playing the transvestite stood up and walked to a microphone and began giving some serious, kind of sentimental act, showing what a wonderful person the son had been.
In the middle of this act, one of my old schoolmates from college, JSp, walked out on stage. A spotlight shone on him. He walked straight forward, as if in a trance, to, and then beyond, the end of the stage. He may have been muttering something as he walked, like he was a little crazy. He continued his walk forward, all the way to the back of the room, as if a walkway had just then been formed for him.
I was now at the back end of a theater, like a small theater in the Village. I was surrounded by old friends from college. We were all our current ages. We were watching a new performance by some of our friends. Some of us who were watching may also have been scheduled to go on stage later on. I was not going on stage.
The people who now got up on stage, ML and one other person, looked and acted like crazy people. They were all scraggly, dirty, and pale. Their hair was thinning, but disheveled, and they wore coats that were way too big for them. They just seemed to putter around on stage, mumbling strange things, more to themselves than to each other. They may also have walked off the regular stage and onto a network of walkways that went around and behind the audience.
Another group of people walked out onto the stage. They also appeared to be old friends of mine from college. They began speaking, either to each other or to the crowd, about moving around either in the dream world or in a state like the out-of-body state. They said that it was an easy thing to do, and that they were a little surprised and disappointed that the people in the audience hadn't started doing it before now. It was like the audience was a class of people experienced at this type of dream movement or out-of-body movement.
Other people around me seemed, at this prompting, quickly to have jumped into this altered state. I had taken quite a while in getting to it. I stood up and ran toward the stage. (Actually, I must have flown toward the stage without thinking of it -- I was going over the heads of the crowd and not using one of the walkways.)
I reached the stage and approached the back of the stage, which was a solid wall. As I approached the wall, it opened up, like an eye would open, and let me out into an area like an alleyway in a big city. There was a long, warehouse-like building off to my right. I knew I could fly, so I got a running start, then began flying up along the building.
I may have planned to fly over the building. But for some reason I landed. I may not have had the ability to fly anymore. I began running along the building, possibly (not really sure) because I thought that once I reached the end of the building I'd have the momentum to fly again. But I kept running and running, never reaching the end of the building.
All around the building was complete darkness, and all around me was fog. I saw through this darkness and fog as if I were running with a headlight guiding my path. I was starting to wonder whether I'd just keep running like this forever and ever. I thought to myself, What's going on? I'm getting nowhere!
Suddenly a hand grabbed my left arm. A voice said, "Dude! You are getting somewhere! You have to calm down your thoughts and uncloud your vision." The voice may have told me to "pull down my shades," as if I were wearing sunglasses or some special kind of eyeglasses.
I reached up to my eyes and pulled down my shades -- oddly enough, I think I pulled them down over my eyes instead of under them. My vision sparkled with slow, white gleams for a moment. As the gleams dispersed, my eyes felt a bit of strain, like I was trying really hard to keep my eyes open while I was tired.
My vision slowly cleared, and I could see that I was in a long driving tunnel, like the Holland Tunnel in New York. But the tunnel may have been kind of narrow, and there were a lot of people out walking around in it. The man and I were actually in a car. I was driving and the man was in the passenger seat.
The car was driving slow and the people were moving slow. But the people would often suddenly walk straight across the tunnel, or they would randomly swerve into the center of the tunnel. I would have to react quickly to avoid hitting the people, even though both their and my actions were so slow. The man said, "See? When you were driving blindly, you risked hitting all these people. You need to stay aware of where you really are, or else you're going to hurt someone."
At this point my consciousness may have faded into some kind of "real life scenario." I don't really remember what it was, though.
But as the "real life scenario" ended -- possibly with my not having done a good job and fighting to get out of the scenario! -- my vision faded, again through the sparkles, into the tunnel. Again the people in the tunnel seemed would get in the way of my car and I'd have to react quickly to avoid hitting them.
But my car slowly faded away, and I found myself out walking among the people. The slow motion suddenly cleared away. When the slow motion cleared, the people in the tunnel also changed a little bit. The tunnel itself also became narrower and smaller, kind of like a footpath tunnel, or even a hallway. The atmosphere, which before had felt so slow and sticky, now felt clear and normal. But most of the people were walking around in a complete daze, like they were on some other world.
I began recognizing people. I knew that I'd known them from the audience I'd been in before I'd made the jump through the stage wall. But none of these people were from my college days. One may possibly have been a girl from the neighborhood I'd lived in before going to college.
I realized that we had all actually been part of some experiment, maybe a government experiment, on psychic people. We were all brought together and then drugged into a state where we would perform our psychic abilities -- mostly out-of-body type abilities. During the experiences, I realized, if we had the ability to see each other for who we really were, we'd recognize each other from the past experiences. But we were so drugged during the experiences that once we woke up, we'd all forget each other.
I hoped to push past this somehow and hold onto my recognition of some of these people. The girl from my old neighborhood seemed to be a little more awake than the others. So I said, "Hey," as she walked past. There was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. But she kept walking. Another woman, maybe a heavyset Hispanic woman, also seemed to be a little awake. So I tried to get her attention. But she also only slightly recognized me. So I kept walking.
I knew that I was still in full control of my psychic abilities and my consciousness. So I decided to get out of this place before the government could take it away again. There was a door out of the hallway right in front of me. I simply opened it. I could see the night sky, and the hint of some big, hospital-like building (of which this hallway must have been a part) outside the door.
I was about to leave, but a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. It was a big, fat, black man in a police uniform. He said, "Uh-uh, sir. You aren't going anywhere."
I figured I would still try to escape. But as I tried to back toward the door, the officer pulled out a (purple plastic?) revolver and shot at me. The officer may have hit me with a tranquilizer dart. I knew the officer was trying to sedate me, so he could end my process, erase my memory, and set me back into my normal environment, unaware of what I'd been through.
But I refused to be taken down so easily. I said, "Oh, fuck that bull shit!" I somehow managed to overpower the officer. Either by using my strength (LOL!) or by using psychic powers, I managed to make the officer twist the revolver in toward his own stomach.
I made the officer shoot himself in the stomach with a tranquilizer dart. As the officer did this, he cried, "Oh, dear god, no." He passed out and slumped to the ground. I was holding the tranquilizer gun.
I ran out into the night. Beyond the hospital-like building was a hilly lawn that seemed to be lit by large, stadium-style lights. I seemed to have come out of a door inside of or near some black, tarp-like or tent-like structure, the front of which was flapping back and forth a little. In the distance were a couple workers. I had a bad feeling that they were security officers or that, if they saw me, they'd call security workers to capture me.
I continued running. I was afraid that the tranquilizer -- I wasn't sure whether it had hit me -- was going to take effect and make me pass out very soon. I wanted to keep running, either until I escaped or until the tranquilizer made me pass out. I thought that I could, at the very least, get far away from the building and hide myself somewhere.
I ran toward the top of a hill where there stood a tree with a wide canopy. I ran between the tree, which was on my left, and a fence, which was on my right. On the other side of the fence there seemed to be a densely wooded area. I was still carrying the tranquilizer gun. I threw the gun over the fence, apparently thinking that by doing so I would eliminate the evidence that I had shot the officer with it.
Only a moment after throwing the gun over the fence, I began flying. I slowly floated up over the fence and then up into the thin branches of the densely wooded area. The branches began changing color, becoming pinkish or pinkish-orange.
There seemed to be a place among these strangely colored branches where I could rest, possibly even let myself pass out, and not be detected by the security officers. The place seemed somehow to be disappointing to me, like it was a shabby tree house or a dwelling built by a bunch of dirty monkeys. I didn't really want to be here. But I had no choice. There was nowhere else for me to go.
As soon as I set myself down on the planks that made up the floor of this place, the place changed. First it changed into some kind of living room or entertainment room that seemed to be on a balcony-like floor in a big house. I could see over the balcony ledge to another living room-like area on the floor below.
The view then, while keeping its location steady, became cartoon-like, like flat, thick-lined cartoons such as Dexter's Laboratory. Some cartoon characters actually came into my view. They were all short, little characters, like Dexter. They were also childlike, somehow.
There was some adult woman on the floor below, a kind of guardian to these cartoon characters. The woman may have been real, not cartoon. The cartoon characters were all warning me to be quiet, so that I didn't wake up the woman. If the woman woke up and found out I was hiding here, she'd probably get really angry.
Showing posts with label escape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label escape. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
south african spy; drug dealing spy family; science fiction interview
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
A man -- who was also I, even though I wasn't seeing from the man's point of view, but from a view only 20cm or so from the man's face and directed toward the man. The man may have been black, with a light complexion, short-shaved hair, and a muscular body.
The man was a spy. He had traveled to a few cities around the world on a few different missions. He was now in a hotel, possibly in South Africa. The hotel was kind of dingy, with old-looking, concrete or white stone walls. But it was supposed to be a high-class hotel.
The man lay down in his bed. He pulled a cell phone up to his ear. He explained to his bosses how he'd been trailed through the city. He said that he was certain people now knew who he was.
The bosses told the man that everything was alright. The bosses said they'd send another agent to meet the man in just a couple hours. The man was to meet with the agent the bosses sent at a specific restaurant or cafe in the city.
The man hung up the phone. He understood that the bosses were laying a trap for the man. Since the man had been spotted, he was no longer a good agent. Since the bosses had no use for an agent that was no longer any good, they were going to kill the man. The man knew he needed to escape the city before the agents who were sent to kill him came after him.
The man went into the bathroom and pulled a huge Ziploc bag full of some material out of a suitcase. He may have pulled another bag full of something else out of the suitcase. The man was now apparently ready to leave the hotel and find a way out of the city.
Dream #2
I was in a nice, big hotel suite with a few young looking, beautiful, Latina girls. The girls were dressed casually, in kind of baggy t-shirts and ponytails. They were really skinny.
The girls were either spies or drug dealers. I had been working with them. But now I had just finished telling them I could no longer work with them. I was standing in the bathroom with one of the girls, right after I'd told her I was quitting. The girl was kneeling down, like she was tying her shoes or something, and I was petting her pale brown hair.
We now all stood out in the main room. A big window let in a lot of daylight. We were on a high floor in the hotel. The main room almost looked like the living room of a long-lived-in apartment: it even had a really lovely book collection along the left wall.
The girls' father was in the room. He was a kind of heavyset, rough-faced man with a dark olive complexion and full, but wiry, salt and pepper hair. He wore a tweed jacket, button up shirt, and nice slacks of a kind of heavy fabric.
The girls told their father that I could no longer work with them. I was afraid to hear the father's reaction. I thought the father would get angry and kill me. I was about to tell the father that I didn't exactly mean I couldn't work with the girls, that I was only thinking that maybe I should try to do something else.
Dream #3
I was in a big hotel suite. I was with the cast of The Chronic Rift, an old pop culture review show on New York City cable access in the 1990s. The cast was all sat out in their usual forum style in the main room of the suite. I had just walked from another room, like the kitchen or bathroom, into the main room.
The show may just now have been ending. There were now a couple of pop culture industry guests sitting out with the cast. The cast and the guests were talking back and forth about some element of science fiction writing.
One of the guests may have been tall, pale, and young-looking, even though I had a feeling he was older and far more experienced than I. The man wore a yellow t-shirt and a white cap, like Fred Lebow's old running cap. The man knew I should be interested in the topic everybody was discussing. But I wasn't contributing to the discussion at all. This annoyed the man, like he thought I was simply being lazy.
I was now getting the feeling that it was too late for me to contribute to the discussion: everybody seemed to be getting ready to get up and leave. But for some reason I did say something. It was really hard for me to speak, and whatever I said came out kind of confused.
The tall guest and the other guest stayed seated in order to answer my question. I think they were disappointed at my question: they may have expected a more complex question from me. But I think they took the time to answer my question in the hope that their answer would lead me to ask a more complex question. It was like I was somehow known for asking really penetrating questions.
Dream #1
A man -- who was also I, even though I wasn't seeing from the man's point of view, but from a view only 20cm or so from the man's face and directed toward the man. The man may have been black, with a light complexion, short-shaved hair, and a muscular body.
The man was a spy. He had traveled to a few cities around the world on a few different missions. He was now in a hotel, possibly in South Africa. The hotel was kind of dingy, with old-looking, concrete or white stone walls. But it was supposed to be a high-class hotel.
The man lay down in his bed. He pulled a cell phone up to his ear. He explained to his bosses how he'd been trailed through the city. He said that he was certain people now knew who he was.
The bosses told the man that everything was alright. The bosses said they'd send another agent to meet the man in just a couple hours. The man was to meet with the agent the bosses sent at a specific restaurant or cafe in the city.
The man hung up the phone. He understood that the bosses were laying a trap for the man. Since the man had been spotted, he was no longer a good agent. Since the bosses had no use for an agent that was no longer any good, they were going to kill the man. The man knew he needed to escape the city before the agents who were sent to kill him came after him.
The man went into the bathroom and pulled a huge Ziploc bag full of some material out of a suitcase. He may have pulled another bag full of something else out of the suitcase. The man was now apparently ready to leave the hotel and find a way out of the city.
Dream #2
I was in a nice, big hotel suite with a few young looking, beautiful, Latina girls. The girls were dressed casually, in kind of baggy t-shirts and ponytails. They were really skinny.
The girls were either spies or drug dealers. I had been working with them. But now I had just finished telling them I could no longer work with them. I was standing in the bathroom with one of the girls, right after I'd told her I was quitting. The girl was kneeling down, like she was tying her shoes or something, and I was petting her pale brown hair.
We now all stood out in the main room. A big window let in a lot of daylight. We were on a high floor in the hotel. The main room almost looked like the living room of a long-lived-in apartment: it even had a really lovely book collection along the left wall.
The girls' father was in the room. He was a kind of heavyset, rough-faced man with a dark olive complexion and full, but wiry, salt and pepper hair. He wore a tweed jacket, button up shirt, and nice slacks of a kind of heavy fabric.
The girls told their father that I could no longer work with them. I was afraid to hear the father's reaction. I thought the father would get angry and kill me. I was about to tell the father that I didn't exactly mean I couldn't work with the girls, that I was only thinking that maybe I should try to do something else.
Dream #3
I was in a big hotel suite. I was with the cast of The Chronic Rift, an old pop culture review show on New York City cable access in the 1990s. The cast was all sat out in their usual forum style in the main room of the suite. I had just walked from another room, like the kitchen or bathroom, into the main room.
The show may just now have been ending. There were now a couple of pop culture industry guests sitting out with the cast. The cast and the guests were talking back and forth about some element of science fiction writing.
One of the guests may have been tall, pale, and young-looking, even though I had a feeling he was older and far more experienced than I. The man wore a yellow t-shirt and a white cap, like Fred Lebow's old running cap. The man knew I should be interested in the topic everybody was discussing. But I wasn't contributing to the discussion at all. This annoyed the man, like he thought I was simply being lazy.
I was now getting the feeling that it was too late for me to contribute to the discussion: everybody seemed to be getting ready to get up and leave. But for some reason I did say something. It was really hard for me to speak, and whatever I said came out kind of confused.
The tall guest and the other guest stayed seated in order to answer my question. I think they were disappointed at my question: they may have expected a more complex question from me. But I think they took the time to answer my question in the hope that their answer would lead me to ask a more complex question. It was like I was somehow known for asking really penetrating questions.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
sex with married lesbian; escape from friend; missed race; irate showgoer
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I lived in a big apartment in a big city, maybe New York City, with another man. The man was black, a bit overweight, with kind of big hair. He was maybe in his early forties. The place was mainly his. I rented out a small room in the apartment. But even the small room was very opulent. Most of the surfaces in the apartment were white, lit with golden, incandescent lights from chandeliers.
My ex-girlfriend H was coming over to visit. But I might not have been sure when. It was night already. I may have gotten a call from her at some point. But I may have felt like I'd like a little more assurance on when she'd show up.
I floated out of the apartment. The sky was a warm, dark blue, like there was still just a trace of sun sinking down far past the horizon. But it was supposed to be late night. All the buildings and streets were bathed in orange streetlamp light. The streets were packed with cars; the sidewalks, with people.
In order to get a lock on who was were in this mass of cars and people -- mainly so I could see whether I could find H, I began using a video-game-like viewing technique. I would impose a pink- or red-outline square onto a car. Somewhere in my field of view I would get a readout of the people in the car. I would do a number of these cars at once. I would do a similar thing with the people on the sidewalks, except that, probably, instead using a square outline, I just pointed at them with something like a small dot.
I may now have seen H walking down the street toward my apartment building. I began floating back into the building. I saw myself inside through one of the windows. I saw myself sitting at something like a dinner table and nodding very seriously at some person I couldn't see. I figured that I was talking with my roommate. He may have been telling me stuff I could and couldn't do. But I wanted to see who I really was talking to, so I floated into my body in the room.
I was face-to-face with H. She was talking to me about how, just today, she'd had what she was talking about as a silly idea to marry a woman. She reminded me that lesbian marriages had been made legal recently. She told me that one of her friends, who was a lesbian, suggested that they just go get married as a joke. So H and her friend had gone off and gotten married.
H seemed to think this was just a joke. I felt like she, as usual, wasn't getting the importance and permanence of what she'd just done. I was probably jealous of H being in a lesbian marriage. But I was even more annoyed that she thought it was all a joke. If it was something she'd regret later, she needed to know. I thought either she was really in love with the woman and she didn't want to tell me, or else she thought she'd done something for fun and now it would come back to get her.
While I was trying to think of the best way to tell H all this, H and I had moved to the bed, which may have been in the same room as the dining table. H and I were laying on our sides and embracing each other. We may have been kissing. H was wearing a long, greenish khaki skirt and a purple tank top. I had the skirt pushed up the back of H's legs. I was feeling H's bottom.
H asked me something like, "Do you like this?" I responded yes, possibly thinking that H meant, did I like having sex with a lesbian.
Dream #2
I was in a small bedroom with an adult woman and someone else, possibly a child. The room was dimly lit with a stark, incandescent bulb, like some bulb just laying on the floor. The walls were bare, probably white, but there was some kind of a blue tinge to them. The whole space was empty and pretty clean, but everything felt tight and restless.
My old friend R was coming to attack us. He may have gone completely insane and started killing a lot of people, with us as his next targets. Or else we may have exposed him for something, and he may now have been trying to stop us from doing something like giving conclusive evidence. He may have done something criminal in a business or political sense. Or we may have seen him murder somebody.
We knew R was way downstairs but was working his way upstairs. We had to get out of here as soon as possible. I gathered everybody up. There was a back door in this bedroom. The door led to something like a spare room. I got us all into that room. The woman was slightly panicked. But the child was very panicked. It was hard to keep it in the room.
I was kind of dizzy, and it was really hard to see. I pushed on all the walls. One of the walls opened up, in two layers -- the first layer coming in toward the room, and the second layer pushing out away from the room. I knew this was a secret exit from the house or apartment.
I had already jumped into this exit. It was now something like a small slide, with either a flat metal sheet or metal rollers for a floor and white walls and ceiling. It was so small that I couldn't stand inside of it. I had to sit. And it was steep. It was hard for me not to slide down. I was already a couple meters down.
I shouted up to the woman to get the kid inside here. This was the place I'd been looking for. We needed to escape quick. The other two got inside. But my friend R had taken one of the people's places, I'm not sure whose. The other two slid down the slide. I closed and locked the exit. Then I slid down.
We landed out in some area full of small shops and restaurants. It was early evening, and the sky and atmosphere were deep blue. There were gleams of light from the shops and restaurants. There were a few people here and there, but nobody noticed us just landing here, apparently from out of nowhere.
I told the woman and child (R was no longer there) to stay calm and not look suspicious. We began walking down one of the streets. We soon found ourselves in something more like the back end of a residential neighborhood.
I told the other two that we had to escape now. I said that the best way to escape would be to take a train -- there was a stop just a few blocks down the road -- to one of the cities up north of here. Apparently we were in New York City. So we were going to head up to one of the cities farther upstate in New York. I named a town, as if the naming of the town itself would save us. The name may have been Osceola. But I'm not sure.
Dream #3
It was daytime. I was out at the edge of some park. I stood on a promenade with a stone fence at the top of a steep hill that overlooked some town. The stone fence had a chain-link fence built out of its top as well, for extra protection. I stood before a bench.
A race had just finished. It wasn't quite a normal running race. There had been something else involved, maybe wheelchairs, even though nobody in the race really needed wheelchairs.
My old friend R showed up. He sat down either in a bench next to the bench I stood in front of, or else on the stone barrier itself. I told R that he had missed the race.
A woman now appeared and sat down at the right (my right) side of the bench before me. I sat down next to the woman and began talking to her. But now R got upset. I had a feeling he was really just jealous of the fact that I was talking with a girl. But he was doing something to indicate that he was feeling bad, like it was important for him to have someone to talk to.
I managed somehow to get the woman out of the way so I could get a better look at R. R told me that somebody he knew had cancer. I realized that R had been sad about this the whole time. I suddenly felt bad for having made such a big deal out of his having missed the race.
Dream #4
I was walking into some room. This room was like a lobby in a theater. In some other room something was going to happen, like a movie was going to be shown or something.
But coming out of a doorway opposite the lobby from the door through which I'd entered were two men and a woman. One of the men was the theater's proprietor. The other two were husband and wife. All three were older, maybe in their fifties or sixties. The proprietor was kind of short, a little shabby looking. The husband and wife were kind of tall and wealthy looking.
The proprietor was trying to explain to the man that he'd done something bad. Since the man had done this bad thing, the theater couldn't let him stay. This one bad thing done indicated that similar bad things would probably also be done once the show started. This would distract the audience. The proprietor couldn't allow that.
But the man was acting up like a spoiled child. He was yelling and screaming about wanting to see the show. It was like he thought if he could convince the proprietor he wanted to see the show badly enough, it shouldn't matter whether he would behave well at all while he was in at the show.
But the proprietor wouldn't let the man back into the show. So the man started threatening violence. The proprietor was obviously afraid. I figured I should at least step in at this point. Both the proprietor and I were small, compared to the man. But I figured if I stepped in, I could fight better than the proprietor, and maybe I could even stop the man.
The man was now yelling at me personally about how he'd been in the military. I was trying to determine how big of trouble I was in physically with this guy. I asked him what he'd done in the military. He now appeared to be in his forties. He had brown hair and a brown mustache. He wore sunglasses, a denim shirt, and blue jeans.
The man told me he'd worked with the Navy. I asked him where he'd been stationed. He gave me some location in the United States. I understood that his service with the Navy hadn't been much more than floating around on a ship just off the coast of the United States.
I could tell the man felt kind of bad about this, like he hadn't been able to risk his life like others had. So I didn't want to make him feel worse by getting into a fight with him and winning (???). So I just started talking nice to the guy. The guy, his wife, the proprietor, and I all sat down in the lobby, in some seats just like movie theater seats. A small screen was playing a movie. We all started watching the movie.
***
UPDATE: A discussion of some of the images from this dream can be found at this entry of my dreamday journal.
UPDATE 2: Picture added to dream #1 on July 8th, 2012, at 2:12 PM Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
I lived in a big apartment in a big city, maybe New York City, with another man. The man was black, a bit overweight, with kind of big hair. He was maybe in his early forties. The place was mainly his. I rented out a small room in the apartment. But even the small room was very opulent. Most of the surfaces in the apartment were white, lit with golden, incandescent lights from chandeliers.
My ex-girlfriend H was coming over to visit. But I might not have been sure when. It was night already. I may have gotten a call from her at some point. But I may have felt like I'd like a little more assurance on when she'd show up.
I floated out of the apartment. The sky was a warm, dark blue, like there was still just a trace of sun sinking down far past the horizon. But it was supposed to be late night. All the buildings and streets were bathed in orange streetlamp light. The streets were packed with cars; the sidewalks, with people.
In order to get a lock on who was were in this mass of cars and people -- mainly so I could see whether I could find H, I began using a video-game-like viewing technique. I would impose a pink- or red-outline square onto a car. Somewhere in my field of view I would get a readout of the people in the car. I would do a number of these cars at once. I would do a similar thing with the people on the sidewalks, except that, probably, instead using a square outline, I just pointed at them with something like a small dot.
I may now have seen H walking down the street toward my apartment building. I began floating back into the building. I saw myself inside through one of the windows. I saw myself sitting at something like a dinner table and nodding very seriously at some person I couldn't see. I figured that I was talking with my roommate. He may have been telling me stuff I could and couldn't do. But I wanted to see who I really was talking to, so I floated into my body in the room.
I was face-to-face with H. She was talking to me about how, just today, she'd had what she was talking about as a silly idea to marry a woman. She reminded me that lesbian marriages had been made legal recently. She told me that one of her friends, who was a lesbian, suggested that they just go get married as a joke. So H and her friend had gone off and gotten married.
H seemed to think this was just a joke. I felt like she, as usual, wasn't getting the importance and permanence of what she'd just done. I was probably jealous of H being in a lesbian marriage. But I was even more annoyed that she thought it was all a joke. If it was something she'd regret later, she needed to know. I thought either she was really in love with the woman and she didn't want to tell me, or else she thought she'd done something for fun and now it would come back to get her.
While I was trying to think of the best way to tell H all this, H and I had moved to the bed, which may have been in the same room as the dining table. H and I were laying on our sides and embracing each other. We may have been kissing. H was wearing a long, greenish khaki skirt and a purple tank top. I had the skirt pushed up the back of H's legs. I was feeling H's bottom.
H asked me something like, "Do you like this?" I responded yes, possibly thinking that H meant, did I like having sex with a lesbian.
Dream #2
I was in a small bedroom with an adult woman and someone else, possibly a child. The room was dimly lit with a stark, incandescent bulb, like some bulb just laying on the floor. The walls were bare, probably white, but there was some kind of a blue tinge to them. The whole space was empty and pretty clean, but everything felt tight and restless.
My old friend R was coming to attack us. He may have gone completely insane and started killing a lot of people, with us as his next targets. Or else we may have exposed him for something, and he may now have been trying to stop us from doing something like giving conclusive evidence. He may have done something criminal in a business or political sense. Or we may have seen him murder somebody.
We knew R was way downstairs but was working his way upstairs. We had to get out of here as soon as possible. I gathered everybody up. There was a back door in this bedroom. The door led to something like a spare room. I got us all into that room. The woman was slightly panicked. But the child was very panicked. It was hard to keep it in the room.
I was kind of dizzy, and it was really hard to see. I pushed on all the walls. One of the walls opened up, in two layers -- the first layer coming in toward the room, and the second layer pushing out away from the room. I knew this was a secret exit from the house or apartment.
I had already jumped into this exit. It was now something like a small slide, with either a flat metal sheet or metal rollers for a floor and white walls and ceiling. It was so small that I couldn't stand inside of it. I had to sit. And it was steep. It was hard for me not to slide down. I was already a couple meters down.
I shouted up to the woman to get the kid inside here. This was the place I'd been looking for. We needed to escape quick. The other two got inside. But my friend R had taken one of the people's places, I'm not sure whose. The other two slid down the slide. I closed and locked the exit. Then I slid down.
We landed out in some area full of small shops and restaurants. It was early evening, and the sky and atmosphere were deep blue. There were gleams of light from the shops and restaurants. There were a few people here and there, but nobody noticed us just landing here, apparently from out of nowhere.
I told the woman and child (R was no longer there) to stay calm and not look suspicious. We began walking down one of the streets. We soon found ourselves in something more like the back end of a residential neighborhood.
I told the other two that we had to escape now. I said that the best way to escape would be to take a train -- there was a stop just a few blocks down the road -- to one of the cities up north of here. Apparently we were in New York City. So we were going to head up to one of the cities farther upstate in New York. I named a town, as if the naming of the town itself would save us. The name may have been Osceola. But I'm not sure.
Dream #3
It was daytime. I was out at the edge of some park. I stood on a promenade with a stone fence at the top of a steep hill that overlooked some town. The stone fence had a chain-link fence built out of its top as well, for extra protection. I stood before a bench.
A race had just finished. It wasn't quite a normal running race. There had been something else involved, maybe wheelchairs, even though nobody in the race really needed wheelchairs.
My old friend R showed up. He sat down either in a bench next to the bench I stood in front of, or else on the stone barrier itself. I told R that he had missed the race.
A woman now appeared and sat down at the right (my right) side of the bench before me. I sat down next to the woman and began talking to her. But now R got upset. I had a feeling he was really just jealous of the fact that I was talking with a girl. But he was doing something to indicate that he was feeling bad, like it was important for him to have someone to talk to.
I managed somehow to get the woman out of the way so I could get a better look at R. R told me that somebody he knew had cancer. I realized that R had been sad about this the whole time. I suddenly felt bad for having made such a big deal out of his having missed the race.
Dream #4
I was walking into some room. This room was like a lobby in a theater. In some other room something was going to happen, like a movie was going to be shown or something.
But coming out of a doorway opposite the lobby from the door through which I'd entered were two men and a woman. One of the men was the theater's proprietor. The other two were husband and wife. All three were older, maybe in their fifties or sixties. The proprietor was kind of short, a little shabby looking. The husband and wife were kind of tall and wealthy looking.
The proprietor was trying to explain to the man that he'd done something bad. Since the man had done this bad thing, the theater couldn't let him stay. This one bad thing done indicated that similar bad things would probably also be done once the show started. This would distract the audience. The proprietor couldn't allow that.
But the man was acting up like a spoiled child. He was yelling and screaming about wanting to see the show. It was like he thought if he could convince the proprietor he wanted to see the show badly enough, it shouldn't matter whether he would behave well at all while he was in at the show.
But the proprietor wouldn't let the man back into the show. So the man started threatening violence. The proprietor was obviously afraid. I figured I should at least step in at this point. Both the proprietor and I were small, compared to the man. But I figured if I stepped in, I could fight better than the proprietor, and maybe I could even stop the man.
The man was now yelling at me personally about how he'd been in the military. I was trying to determine how big of trouble I was in physically with this guy. I asked him what he'd done in the military. He now appeared to be in his forties. He had brown hair and a brown mustache. He wore sunglasses, a denim shirt, and blue jeans.
The man told me he'd worked with the Navy. I asked him where he'd been stationed. He gave me some location in the United States. I understood that his service with the Navy hadn't been much more than floating around on a ship just off the coast of the United States.
I could tell the man felt kind of bad about this, like he hadn't been able to risk his life like others had. So I didn't want to make him feel worse by getting into a fight with him and winning (???). So I just started talking nice to the guy. The guy, his wife, the proprietor, and I all sat down in the lobby, in some seats just like movie theater seats. A small screen was playing a movie. We all started watching the movie.
***
UPDATE: A discussion of some of the images from this dream can be found at this entry of my dreamday journal.
UPDATE 2: Picture added to dream #1 on July 8th, 2012, at 2:12 PM Mountain Standard Time.
Monday, July 2, 2012
hanging light
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
A light, hanging from the ceiling by a thick, black, metal chain. The light was in a rectangular cover. The sides of the cover were some opaque ivory color, maybe with a little of a rough texture. The edges were black metal, like the chain, except of a thinner material. The light inside the cover was very bright.
I may have been "talking to" myself or someone else about something living inside the light cover, as if the light cover were actually a cage. I tried to imagine how the thing living in there might break free. I might have imagined or seen a number of cages for the living thing before I saw this one.
Dream #1
A light, hanging from the ceiling by a thick, black, metal chain. The light was in a rectangular cover. The sides of the cover were some opaque ivory color, maybe with a little of a rough texture. The edges were black metal, like the chain, except of a thinner material. The light inside the cover was very bright.
I may have been "talking to" myself or someone else about something living inside the light cover, as if the light cover were actually a cage. I tried to imagine how the thing living in there might break free. I might have imagined or seen a number of cages for the living thing before I saw this one.
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