Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a different time period or dimension. The time period may have been the 1940s. It was night. I was in an apartment living room with a man. The room was dim and sepia-toned. The man probably wore a brownish suit. His hair was swept up in a wave from his forehead.
The back wall, along which the couch stood, was lined with papers. The papers may have been pictures or signs. They all indicated goals or missions -- something having to do with the future aims of the man. The man would throw darts at the pieces of paper. The pieces of paper the darts struck indicated something about the man's future. I think once a certain amount of papers had been hit, the man and I would actually start some kind of mission outside the apartment.
The man had been going along pretty regularly, hitting papers with darts. The man seemed to have good aim, which may have meant that he was putting together a pretty good future or mission. But somehow the man had gotten the idea that I had betrayed him somehow. He may now possibly have been coming to think that I had taken the woman he loved away from him.
This may have been true. I certainly remembered the woman (a dignified woman dressed in a Victorian kind of style, with a wide hairstyle and a form-fitting, white, lace dress that puffed out a bit at the collar and shoulders).
I remembered that the woman and I had been involved in some kind of situation, like a mission. But beyond that, I didn't know anything for certain. The woman and I may have gotten together with the aim of hurting the man, as if the man were bad and we were secretly trying to stop him from attaining some evil goal.
The man, in his disappointment, began tossing the darts around randomly. He tossed them without caring. He even tossed them at other walls, where there were no papers. The man started telling me things that implied that he knew the woman and I had gotten together. I wasn't really upset that the man was angry at me. I was more upset that he now seemed to be bent on messing up his future or mission, just because he was disappointed about this affair, which may not have even happened.
Dream #2
I was in a car with my mom and my third oldest nephew. We were driving through some suburban neighborhood that was full of steep hills. I was talking to my mom about how I thought I should possibly go back and work for the National Parks Service, like I had done about a decade ago.
My mom didn't seem to have much reaction to this. But my nephew was interested, asking what it would mean if I went to work for the Parks Service. I told my nephew that it meant I'd have to move to another state, maybe Arizona or New Mexico. I'd be kind of far away, and I'd be working in the forest or the desert all the time. As I said all of this, an image of a map, probably of the Southwestern United States, formed in my head.
Dream #3
I was in a hospital with my mom and sister, who seemed to be a young child. We were here because my mom needed to be seen by the doctor for something. My mom was taken into some hospital room. My sister and I were in a waiting room. But we were then led into a different waiting room.
At some point my sister and I also got separated from each other. I was supposed to find my sister and bring her into my waiting room. I may have found my sister at some point. I may have been a little annoyed to find that she was in hysterics over something I didn't think was a big deal at all.
Dream #4
I was in some place like a clothing store. There were a lot of men, mostly dressed in drag, around me. The men were all going to give me a makeover for Halloween. They decided they were going to dress me up as some kind of glamorous transvestite adult baby. I think I had an image in my mind's eye of me wearing a blonde wig, some kind of pink and white t-shirt, diapers, and some kind of gold-sequin panties over the diapers.
The guys were just about ready to put makeup on my face. I was getting a little worried. I told them, "Guys, if I start to look really awkward or stupid, don't try to be nice to me about it, okay? Just take the makeup off and we'll forget about all this."
Showing posts with label betrayal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label betrayal. Show all posts
Monday, October 29, 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.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
dirty car
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a car with my mom, my second oldest nephew, and possibly another one of my nephews. Somehow we were all sitting in the car like it was a room. The space had no seats, just the small walls and low ceiling of a car. The walls and ceiling of the car were orange. The car was filthy -- packed with all kinds of garbage and clutter.
My mom had gotten mad at me because I had tried to clean my room. However she had gotten mad at me, she had made me feel really bad about having cleaned my room. It was like this filthy car we were in was her room, and since I had cleaned my room, I was purposely making a bad statement about the filthiness of her own room. She made me feel like I was betraying her somehow.
So I was now trying to prove that I hadn't actually cleaned my room. I was even trying to prove it to myself. At some point I may even have convinced myself that this filthy car was my room.
Dream #1
I was in a car with my mom, my second oldest nephew, and possibly another one of my nephews. Somehow we were all sitting in the car like it was a room. The space had no seats, just the small walls and low ceiling of a car. The walls and ceiling of the car were orange. The car was filthy -- packed with all kinds of garbage and clutter.
My mom had gotten mad at me because I had tried to clean my room. However she had gotten mad at me, she had made me feel really bad about having cleaned my room. It was like this filthy car we were in was her room, and since I had cleaned my room, I was purposely making a bad statement about the filthiness of her own room. She made me feel like I was betraying her somehow.
So I was now trying to prove that I hadn't actually cleaned my room. I was even trying to prove it to myself. At some point I may even have convinced myself that this filthy car was my room.
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