sick girl in bed; small town texas ramen; psychic slither; the floating trumps

For an analysis of images from today's dreams, visit this post in my blog preemie: my life's (a) dream.

Dream 1

I was laying in bed. A young woman may have come to lay in bed as well. She was white and had brown hair. She was skinny. I thought she was cute. We weren't together. We were something like co-workers.

The woman had come to lay in bed because she was feeling bad. She looked over at me and groaned, saying that she was pretty sure she was getting sick. She may have said she felt like she had a hair stuck in her throat. She then put her fingers in her mouth like she was pulling a hair out of her mouth.

I felt some attraction to the woman. But I couldn't tell what she wanted me to do. I didn't know if she wanted me to move over to her side of the bed and comfort her, or if she wanted me to try and have sex with her. I knew that if I did either of those, I'd get sick, too. But I didn't care. But I did worry that the girl wouldn't want me to get near her because she wouldn't want me to get sick.

I also worried that maybe the girl didn't want me to get near her at all. Maybe she wasn't attracted to me at all. She had, after all, just said she'd gotten into bed because she was sick. She probably didn't want to be in bed with me because she was attracted to me. She just wanted to be in any bed she could find, so she could get better.

Dream 2

I was out in some desert town in Texas with my old friend R and his wife L. The sky was dark, dark blue, and the colors of everything around us were deep and dark. It was like everything was being filtered through a heavy sort of UV-protective lens.

We may have been out walking. Or we may have driven for a little while and then gotten out of the car and started walking. All this time we were probably talking -- possibly catching up on our lives and then talking about something in particular.

We passed a couple of small shops that stood out in the emptiness. There may have been an auto repair shop and a fast food restaurant. R, or maybe L, may have remarked on one of the shops, possibly to note the condition of the shop, or maybe because they were thinking of buying the shop.

We now walked up to something like a booth made of old wood, like wood from the Old West. But the booth was apparently a ramen stand or some other kind of shop for Asian food. We stood before the counter, looking at stuff.

R said something to me, making me feel like he and I were finally friends again and in a good place emotionally. I felt bad for not having seen R in such a long time. I then looked at L. She smiled at me nicely. I patted her on the shoulder.

I suddenly felt like L genuinely liked me. I didn't know what to do. It made me feel nice to know she actually liked me. I'd never felt that way before. And I wanted to keep doing whatever made her like me -- if that meant touching her again or hugging her or just continuing to act nice. But I didn't know what the right thing to do was. So I just hoped for the best and turned back to look at the food behind the counter.

Dream 3

I was in some strange place. It may have been like a multiplex-style family fun center from the 1980s or 1990s. Or it may have been like an old roller skating rink from around the same time. A crowd of people were probably milling away from one area and toward another. They were all walking down some ramped walkway with waist-high, solid railing on either side.

I was moving along with the crowd. But I was doing something more like crawling or slithering along the ground rather than walking. I may also at some point have slithered my way up and over some corner area of the walkway's path, then back down to the floor, to continue moving along with the walkers.

Somehow it was like I had just woken up from a dream. I remembered that in the dream I had been discussing something with my mom.

My mom was now in the crowd, walking just behind me. Her foster kids may also have been there. My mom was talking, probably with her foster kids, about some conversation she and I had just had. But as I listened to what my mom said, I realized she was talking about the conversation I'd just had with her in my dream.

I said, "But I just dreamed that conversation, Mom! I haven't told you or anyone else anything about it." At this point I may have started walking upright instead of slithering on the ground.

She said, "I know. I dreamed it, too."

I said, "Oh... I guess that means..."

My mom may have nodded her head.

"That means I'm psychic."

My mom didn't say anything else at this point. She may have become separated from me by a few other walkers. We all may have been walking into a dark room, possibly like a roller skating rink.

I started to worry about all the people around me. Had they heard what I'd just said, that I thought I was psychic? Would they hear and listen to anything else I would say? Would they think I was insane? Would they try to get me put into a mental institution?

I'd stopped talking. But I was probably still worried, as if somehow people could sense what I would say if I were talking. I was trying to control something about myself, almost like my mental vibrations or something, so I could just blend in with everybody else and nobody would think I was insane.

At this point I probably started slithering around again. But now it may have been like I was slithering over people's bodies: up over their heads, their shoulders, etc., as they continued walking forward.

Or it may have been like I was standing upright, but not walking forward. It may have been like the crowd was sort of pushing me forward, like I was a stiff body being moved along indifferently by the motion of the crowd. At some point I may actually have been pushed backward over or against a part of the waist-high railing, so that I may have been bent backward at my back at a pretty sharp angle.

Dream 4

I was in some really big room, possibly like a government room, but many times larger. It may have been lit through large windows beaming in soft, yellow, natural light, like in a massive cathedral. There were wooden structures all around that may have felt like balcony areas for seating in a theater or pews for seating in a church. But they also felt like large, ornate ticket booths in a massive, old train station. There were huge crowds of people all over the place.

I saw Donald and Melania Trump somewhere. It was like they were off to my left or right and upward somewhere. They may have been all the way over one of my shoulders, back off to my left or right, behind my shoulder, and up in the air somewhere. Most likely they weren't standing on anything. They were probably just floating up in the air.

friends' basement; the guido routine

(I apologize for the technical error -- this dream post was supposed to have been posted on November 29. But I somehow managed to save it as a draft, rather than publish it.)

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I had somehow gotten into the basement of an "apartment" that I knew was the apartment of my old friend R and his wife L. I was at the foot of two sets of stairs that faced each other. The stairs and the floor of the basement were made out of white tile, and the section of the basement I was in felt very bright.

I knew that neither R nor L were home. I'm not sure why I was in the house, but I didn't want R or L to see me. I probably wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible.

But now I heard footsteps walking toward the head of one of the staircases. I quickly walked around the other staircase, hiding behind one of the white basement walls. But I was wearing a winter jacket that made a lot of zippy sound as I moved. I thought my sounds had revealed my presence. I didn't want to move around and make any more noise.

The person walked down the steps and was now in the basement. The person walked around the corner of the wall I was hiding behind. I didn't move.

The person, a kind of short woman with pale skin, pale, red-brown hair, and pale, blue-green eyes, saw me. But she didn't seem very surprised by me at all. She seemed to think I was just some friend of R or L's and that I had stopped by without any previous notice.

The woman said something to me to make me feel I needed to be involved in what she was doing, which was the household laundry. I got the understanding that the woman had come here to watch the house for R and L, as if R and L had gone on vacation.

We walked over to the laundry room. The woman put some clothes in the washing machine as she told me that L was still upstairs, sleeping. The woman seemed to imply that R wasn't around. I wondered where he could be.

The washing machine was kind of strange. It had a thick, disc-like device, like a hot rod's air filter, in the center column of the drum. And there was a secondary device, like a basin, placed inside the drum, spanning the entire circumference of the drum, and maybe only two or three inches deep. I didn't know how the whole load of laundry would fit into that tiny basin.

Dream #2

I had put together some songs for the acoustic guitar. The songs were kind of upbeat, kind of heavy, but definitely meant for the acoustic guitar. I may possibly have thought of them as having an Elliott Smith style.
I was now looking for a way to publicize my songs. I was out with a group of friends, walking along a city street that looked like a Main Street in a small town but was as packed and bustling as a big city street during rush hour. But everyone out here seemed to be heading out to have fun.

I was with a group of friends. I knew that my friends had been involved, on small and large scales, with promoting and selling their performance art. I thought to myself of everything my friends had been through in order to get their work out their and to become successful artists. I wondered why I hadn't put the same effort into my life.

But I was happy to have my friends. I could, at the least, ask my friends to help me promote my work. They'd probably make fun of me for not having done what they'd done as early as they'd done it. And some of them might not help me at all. But maybe some would help me.

We were now walking toward a rock or music club that was in the basement of a building. I knew this would be a good place for me to get a gig. If I got a gig here, I could display my new set of songs. I was sure people here would like my songs. I'd probably get a record deal.

I even thought I could do it without having to ask my friends for help. If I could just hang around with the people they hung around with, then get to know the important people and make a good impression on them, I might be able to get my music out through them. I felt bad for using my friends in that way. But I didn't feel like what I would be doing would be so bad.

I imagined the basement club being a narrow space crammed with people. I was now down in the basement, which was actually a wide, crowded area with a small stage at the front. The seating area crowded all the way around the stage. The audience area almost had the smoky, hazy feel of the audience at a boxing match.

On stage were two black women. One was maybe in her twenties or thirties. The other was old enough to be the first woman's mother. She may actually have been the first woman's mother. Both women were a little heavyset, with long hair done in tight braids and pale, blue-green eyes. They both wore flowing, purple dresses.

The women, mostly the younger woman, were speaking about a trip they'd taken to Africa. The younger woman was explaining how she'd thought before the trip that her mind was really open and aware of the ways people get through hardships and succeed in spite of hardships.

But being to Africa showed the younger woman just how naive she'd been. She said that she felt like she thought white people must feel in America when she interacted with the African people in Africa.

The younger woman said that she then came back to America and felt that she was now seeing life more like a white person would than like a black person would (???). The older woman and younger woman discussed this for a bit.

The younger woman wanted to illustrate how she felt by what she'd actually told herself. She hesitated at first. But then she said, "I told myself, I'm really like a Guido now."

Everybody in the audience was a little stunned to hear the woman use this term. I didn't mind it so much. In fact, I thought it was funny.

I now noticed that my mother and brother were sitting just to my right. My mom laughed silently at the woman's statement. That eased my own tension -- I had been afraid to laugh at first, because of the audience's stunned behavior.

I now gave a genuine, but odd-sounding, back-of-the-throat whine-laugh. My laugh was so genuine and awkward that everybody laughed at it. This seemed to loosen up the tense attitude that had taken over the audience.