color me innocent; phone tapper; dirty pink diaper; acting strange

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I had to prove something to somebody, possibly that somebody was innocent. But I did this by laying erect, balanced on the arm of a couch, so that my feet pointed up and my head pointed down toward the seat cushions, and drawing or coloring in a coloring book. I may have been a little boy or girl.

Dream #2

It was daytime. I stood out on a road full of big, white buildings. The buildings all felt abandoned, and the road wasn't very active at all.

I was speaking with my old friend R on my cell phone. R and I seemed to be getting along alright, even though we hadn't spoken in a while.

But now R may have said something like, "Now I'll show you what I can do." The phone hung up. Then the phone -- which was still a cell phone, but looked like a long, corded phone -- began ringing wildly. I picked up the phone and heard R speaking. But the phone kept ringing wildly.

R said, "Now I'll make it stop." The ringing stopped. R said, "See how I control things?"

R told me he'd been tapping my and my family's phones, listening to all our conversations. Something one of my family members, maybe my sister, had done, had insulted R. Now R was going to make us pay for it. And there was nothing we could do to stop R. R was just too well in control of the situation.

The conversation was now over. I stood out on the road, wondering what R would do. I saw my sister riding a bicycle down the road. I felt sorry and afraid for my sister. I wished I could tell her something to stop what was going on. But I couldn't think of what to tell her.

Dream #3

I was in some house. There were a lot of other people here. We were all maybe in our twenties and thirties. We all probably lived in the house. The situation didn't feel cramped. Everybody was pretty easygoing.

Some other guy and I were trying to create a disposable diaper that really looked like a baby's diaper but could be worn by adults. We hadn't succeeded, but I needed to leave the house to take care of something.

I grabbed a pack of baby diapers to put on as I left the house. The diapers were like Pampers Baby Dry diapers. But they were all pink, and they felt even softer than Baby Dry diapers. I put on a pair and headed out of the house.

I walked out into a road like a narrow stone road between tall, white buildings, like in a small, European village. Something about the road may have felt like a run-down garage.

I walked back toward the house, worried about something about the diaper, like it would leak, or like people would think I was a pervert for wearing diapers and no pants in public.

But when I opened the door to the house, I saw my mom inside. I didn't want my mom to see me in diapers, not because she didn't know -- it was probably pretty obvious to her that I wore diapers -- but because I didn't want her nose in my business. But I may have thought things would be less awkward if I could ask my mom for some Pull-Ups diapers instead of Baby Dry diapers.

I walked away from the house, not having gone in. I was still wearing the pink diapers. I walked up toward some water which seemed to be flowing up toward the road from some large body of water, like a large river or a sea.

I thought about how much fun it would be to wade in the water in my diaper. I thought it would be nice to get the diaper all soaked. But I also thought the water was probably really dirty somehow, even though it was clear. A little diaper like this wouldn't keep me from being contaminated with whatver made this water so dirty.

Dream #4

It was daytime. I was walking through a long parking lot in an apartment complex. I was upset or angry about something and making dirty faces because of it. Some person I couldn't see very well walked past me.

I tried to disregard the person. But she caught my attention. I looked up to see that the person was NB, a girl who works in the landlord's office at my apartment complex. I felt bad for having tried to ignore NB. NB looked concerned for me, like I was acting very strange.

bedroom and bookshop; anger at office

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a bedroom in an apartment that was probably my apartment. It felt like a really nice, big apartment on a high up floor in some busy part of a big city. The ceilings were high. I may have been kneeling on the floor and looking up toward my right, to a tall, narrow window with shutters and some kind of gauzy curtains around it. It was night, and my bedroom lights were on.

I was apparently doing something perverted in my room. I might actually have been wearing a wedding dress. I was worried that the people in the apartments across the street from me would see into my room and see what I was doing. The gauzy curtains were drawn over the windows. I couldn't quite convince myself that this was enough. I thought I might draw something more over the window. But I didn't want to stand in front of the window and have people see me. So I just kept crouching.

I was now walking into a small bookshop in some small, but clean and quaint, kind of Main Street area, like in a small town. I had been in the bookstore before, and I knew that the woman who worked there knew me. In fact, I kind of worried that I'd been coming to the bookstore too often, and that the woman would start to think I was some crazy guy who was attracted to her.

The bookshop had small bookshelves, all through the front room, like in the children's section of a public library. Some guy was working between one of the shelves and a big window wall off to my right. I didn't see the guy at first. But then he stood up from behind the shelves. I figured that since the guy was working today, the woman wouldn't be here. I was a little let down. The woman would know me and treat me somewhat indifferently. But I was worried that the guy would eventually get suspicious toward me or start trying to annoy me.

But then the woman showed up. I tried to act like I wasn't very aware of her. I walked into some other room, off to my left. There were tall shelves in this room. But against a wall off to my right was a waist-high bookshelf that held books on mysticism and spirituality. I knelt down and looked at some of those books. They were all paperbacks, kind of old. Some of them had covers more indicative of science or business books than of spiritual books. One book may have been written by W.B. Yeats, although I may have thought of him as a business writer instead of as a poet.

Dream #2

I was in an office. The office was one room, maybe ten meters long and five meters wide. There were two long tables set up in it: one at the center of the room, and the other on the right side of the room. People sat working at computers all along these two tables. I sat at a computer in the corner of the room, at the end of the table along the right wall.

Some of my co-workers began discussing how they might get me to do some of their work for them. They were mumbling this to themselves, as if they thought I couldn't hear them. I got mad. I knew they were going to try and find a way to dump a bunch of work on me without asking me beforehand whether I could do it.

Now one of my co-workers, a guy about my age, tried to play friendly with me, to butter me up before all the work got dumped on me. I was wearing a hoodie. The man walked up behind me and pulled the hood over my head. The man just thought he was making a funny joke. But something about it really pissed me off and panicked me.

The guy had walked back to his desk and sat down, like he'd realized he'd done something dumb, but that he didn't think it was a big deal. But I followed the guy to his desk and began screaming and yelling at him. I also began yelling at everybody I thought was in on the plans to get all their work dumped on me. Among these people was some woman who sat near the guy.

I walked back to my desk. I now noticed that one of my old co-workers, DE, was sitting at the computer to my left. He began typing on his phone. I knew he was gossiping about how violent I had just been. IWL he had always criticized me for being too emotional in situations that made me uncomfortable.

Now the woman who was among the people I had screamed at walked up to me and asked me about something not work related. It may have had to do with some kind of university course she was taking. The woman had a binder filled with papers of about the same consistency as coloring book paper. The papers all dealt with psychological disorders.

The woman asked me how I'd interpret some kind of diagnostic passage relating to some kind of specific mental disease. She read it in a mumbling kind of voice. I tried to catch everything she said, especially because I felt she was trying to "catch" me or "expose" me somehow as not being smart enough to understand her studies. But it sounded like she'd only read half of the text. It even seemed like she got discouraged about halfway through reading and just walked back to her desk.

So now I stood up and walked toward her desk. I was starting to piece together what the woman had read, and everything started to sound familiar to me. I was pretty sure I knew what disease the woman had been talking about. I asked the woman for the book. I looked things over. The woman said that the one thing she wasn't understanding was where it said this disease, which was purely psychogenic, caused an actual physical decay of the brain.

I told the woman that this was correct: that this disease did lead to a physical decay of the brain. Now everybody was listening. Everybody seemed to be pretty shocked that the disease could do this. But I said it wasn't such a strange thing. I began discussing how the abuse of certain drugs could also lead to conditions where people developed decay in their brains.