the sixth child; adult baby and the fetish church

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was out in some place like an empty dirt lot, like a parking lot for a desert fairgrounds. But something about it also felt like it was indoors, like we were in a living room or a waiting room with a lot of couches.

I was with a group of kids. They may have been young children, or they may have been teenagers with the mentality of young children. We had all finished up with some kind of project. Now we were headed away.

But for some reason we all stopped. I felt like our having stopped would probably lead to some of the kids getting impatient. We'd all gotten through our task well. I, as the leader or organizer of this event, didn't want to have people get impatient and start having bad memories about our task. But I also felt like one of the kids might probably start feeling bad, thinking it had been his fault that we had stopped.

I turned around to find the boy I thought might feel bad. The light all around us was now dim green and blue, like dim lights, like fluorescent lights from over building doors, were shining from somewhere nearby.

The boy stood bathed in the light. He was doing some weird move with his face, where he was kind of juggling his eyeglasses on his face, kind of balancing them on his nose. I now understood that we'd all stopped because some of the other boys had noticed this boy doing this trick. The boys had wanted to point out, possibly to me, if not simply just to point out in general, that the boy had this talent.

But for some reason I felt bad about the boy performing like this. I felt like maybe the boy was performing only to make me less impatient, like I'd acted frustrated because we'd stopped and I personally had needed something to divert me from my frustration.

But now the other boys were showing their talents. All the boys' talents were similar to the first boy's talents. The boys were all juggling or swinging or swirling things about. One boy had some black glop he was juggling around on his face. Another boy had a thin, multicolored, neon string that he swung around.

One of the boys pointed out something like the fact that everybody has a talent, and that times like this, waiting times, when motion has stopped, are great times to practice talents. But something still made me feel like these talents were all being shown to me as a way of keeping me personally from getting impatient while our movement was stopped.

Now we were by a building, or at least by a tall, wide wall. Green fluorescent lamps hung from the wall. My brother-in-law sat with his back against the wall. My view of him was obstructed by some of the boys, who were running around, practicing their talents almost as if they were part of some dance or religious ceremony.

My brother-in-law was talking about his kids' homework. He then jokingly asked if I thought he should be extra diligent with making sure ----- got her homework done. I didn't quite catch what my brother-in-law said, and I only half-responded to it.

My brother-in-law saw that I didn't get his joke. He seemed a little ashamed that I hadn't gotten it. He might have thought I was angry with what he'd said, or he might have thought I hadn't cared enough to listen to what he'd said.

But now the spaced between us was clearing out. I could see my brother-in-law clearly. I thought he'd tell the joking comment again. But he didn't: he just explained who the subject of the joke was. The subject was a little girl, just a baby, and my sister's and brother-in-law's youngest child. My brother-in-law was, in fact, holding the little baby in a swaddling blanket in his arms.

I now saw the joke. The baby obviously didn't have any homework. My brother-in-law had just joked that, while he was being so diligent with all the other kids, he might go overboard and even make the little baby do homework as well.

But I was still a little confused. I didn't know where this little baby, which would have been my sister's and brother-in-law's sixth child, had come from. I definitely couldn't remember the baby girl's name.

Dream #2

I was in a car, going down the road at night. I may have been driving the car, but I may have been in the passenger's seat. I was riding along a rut in the right side of the road, constantly almost veering off the road and onto a shoulder of brown-red, desert soil.

I either knew about or was having a conversation (either in my head or with someone -- my mom? -- who sat in the driver's seat) about a church that accepted gay people. The church may actually have had the phrase "Gay Church" in its name.

I started thinking about this Gay Church. It occurred to me that the church wasn't just for gay people. It was a church, a Christian church, that actually celebrated all kinds of alternative sexualities. I had the feeling that it was actually a fetish church rather than a gay church.

I began visualizing the sanctuary of a church my family had attended when I was nine or ten years old. The sanctuary was huge. I visualized all kinds of people dressed up to represent their various fetishes. Some people were dressed normally. But other people were in things like full-body-and-head latex suits, and other people were on leashes.

I thought how it might be fun for me to go to church as an adult baby. I could dress up as a baby and wear a diaper. Maybe I could even be pushed into the church by my Mommy (whoever that would be...) and suck on a pacifier.

But I kind of got turned off by the idea. I wondered if I wouldn't just look stupid. Something about the clothes I visualized myself wearing looked girlish, but clunky, boyish, and cheap -- stupid and shameful. I didn't want to dress up as a baby if that was the best I could do!

I also worried about who would push me in. If a boy had to be my AB parent, I didn't want to do it.

I also worried about what other people would think of me. Even though the church accepted all kinds of fetish, maybe people just looked down on adult babies and thought they were gross. If so, I didn't want to go in and be seen that way by people.

But it now seemed to me that I didn't have much choice. I may have been getting driven to the church right now. I may also have been dressed up as a baby, ready to get pushed into the church of fetish. I may no longer have been driving the car. I may have been in a car seat, sucking on a pacifier, while my AB Mommy or Daddy was driving the car.

sex or work?; lost biking in india

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was the middle of night in winter. I was probably in a car with a couple other people. We were probably out on a road deep in the woods. The snow was deep all around us. It was hard for us to get through wherever we were right then. But we were already preparing for a storm that would be even worse. It was snowing a little bit, even now.

The person who was driving the car was like our manager at wherever we worked. He may have been a black man, kind of tall, with a kind of big build. We were all going to our place of work. Our manager was telling us a number of things we needed to keep in mind as we prepared for the storm. He also told us that we should expect to be at our place of work for a while, because once the storm started we would probably be stuck right where we were.

We were now in some big place that kind of looked like a ski lodge. This was where I worked. It was a little dim. But it was full of people. Everybody seemed to be partying and having a good time. I was sitting on the right end of a couch. Two women sat directly to my left. Another person, somebody from my work, sat on a couch opposite mine.

The two women seemed to be talking to each other and to the person across from me. The woman right next to me was really looking for some boy to take home with her. But the woman to her left was making some argument against it. She was saying something like, In this kind of storm, you didn't need to make a long-term commitment with somebody. It would be way too difficult.

But the woman next to me said, "I'm not looking for a long-term commitment. I'm just looking for sex! I want a boy who wants to go home with me for the night."

I'd had the feeling that the woman had thought I was cute for a little while. But now I understood she was basically telling me flat out that she wanted to take me home with her. But for some reason I was still shy. I didn't want to respond to her, because I didn't know if she really liked me.

The woman must have been able to see this. She twisted around and grabbed me up in her arms. It was suddenly like I was so small, like maybe a nine- or ten-year-old boy! The woman was so huge to me -- especially her breasts. The woman basically just shoved my face right into her breasts and began snuggling me. The woman asked me, "What do you say? Do you want to come home with me for the night, little boy?"

Just being enveloped in the beautiful woman's body the way I was, I felt so aroused and so comfortable. I did want to go home with the woman -- as soon as possible. But I remembered that I was scheduled to work. We were going to have the big storm. I needed to be here to work the big storm. How could I just leave my job at the time when they needed me the most, just to go off and have sex?

But I knew if I didn't at least go ask my manager if I could get the evening off from work, the woman would be disappointed in me. The woman was still cradling me in her arms. But I was thinking of how, when I could get up, I could best phrase the request to my boss. I wanted to make it sound like it was some kind of real emergency, so my boss would let me go.

Dream #2

I was apparently in India with a male friend. It was daytime, and we were biking through some kind of desert. It was a hot, sunny day. My friend and I had gotten into some small argument about where we were going to go next. We were on a dirt trail I believe. But we had gone along a number of different trails, and now I may have felt like I wasn't going to be able to see what I'd wanted to see.

Somehow my friend and I got our issues resolved. (The resolution of these issues, oddly enough, may have involved the intercession of a huge, talking bird, kind of like a pale, mutated vulture that was almost the size of a human.) We had decided which path we were going to take. But my friend was still kind of being a jerk to me. So I decided that while we were biking, I would keep at a distance from him. I'd start really slow and then stay far behind him, so he couldn't talk to me.

Now the path we were going along was a concrete path. We may have been a lot closer to a city, too. We started out by going down a kind of steep slope. The slope led to a grassy and tree-filled area around a river. But my friend had turned off on one path, while I either purposely or accidentally missed the path. Instead, I turned off to the left. I was now riding along a path on the opposite side of the river from my friend. I was also riding above the river, instead of at a level kind of below it, like my friend was.


I was a little worried. I didn't want to lose my friend, and I didn't want my friend to think he'd lost me. But when I looked out to my right, and just a little way ahead of me, I could see my friend on his path. He didn't seem to be aware, yet, that he'd lost me.


I figured I'd speed up. As long as I kept pace with my friend, from my path, then I could join back up with him. I knew that just a ways ahead the path curved right, with the river. I had the feeling that, just after the path curved right, there was a little section that ran back over the river. I could cross the river at that section and meet back up with my friend.


At this point, my friend may have realized that he'd lost me. He looked around. Then he saw me on the path across the river. He may have held his arms out, as if to ask, "What do we do now?"


I tried to shout something like, "Keep in touch with my by phones!" or, "Keep in touch with me by texting!" But I may have lost my friend's view around the curve as I was saying this.


I figured that my friend wouldn't have any idea that he was supposed to wait for me just around the curve. And he seemed to be riding even faster now. I'd have to speed up to get to the crossing point ahead of my friend, so I could meet him there, not have him go ahead of me and keep riding away.


There was a chain-link fence along my left side. Past the fence was a slight, grassy slope. Just beyond that I could see some big buildings, some of which kind of shone white in the sunlight. I knew that we must have been close to a town by now.


But now whole crowds of people came walking down the slope. They crossed through the fence and walked out onto the concrete path. Nobody was paying attention to me. I had to dodge everybody on the path. I managed to do so and keep up my speed for a little while. But then there were too many people on the path. I had to slow down a lot to keep from hitting people.


But now I could see that a whole lot more people were coming down the slope. I realized that I was in the middle of some big festival. The people may have come here to do something like wash in the river. But pretty soon this whole path, as well as the land, down to the river, would be filled with people. I knew it wouldn't be a matter of riding slowly. I'd have to get off my bike altogether. Even then, I probably wouldn't be able to walk. I'd probably be at a total standstill during the ceremony.

sleeping on a mansion porch; cartel paramours

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I may have had either a girlfriend or a girl who was interested in me, who lived in a big mansion with her family. It was night, and the girl, another person or some other people, and I all came up to the mansion. The girl wanted me to sleep here. But she knew her father wouldn't approve of me. So her idea was that I should sleep on the porch of the mansion.

I stood out on the porch while everybody else walked into the mansion. The porch of the mansion was huge, made of massive stone. The doors of the mansion were also big, made of black iron and glass.

The girl checked with the cook of the mansion to see if anybody else was home at the moment. I could see the cook from the right side of the porch, apparently through a dark hallway that led into the incandescent-lit kitchen. The cook said nobody was home. But she also may have said that she still didn't think it was a good idea for me to sleep at the mansion.

I went to sleep on the mansion porch. I slept near the back, right corner of the porch. I think I was using some kind of blankets as a mattress, and a sleeping bag as a blanket.

I now woke. The morning light was grey. A group of people (in a number of cars, including a limousine and a van?) pulled up to the mansion. The girl's father walked up the steps, closely followed by a retinue of people, possibly associates and bodyguards. The father was a black man who still looked kind of young. His hair was maybe about 5cm long. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and some kind of striped tie (maybe green and yellow?). He wore dark but mirror-like sunglasses.

I jumped out of my bedding. I was trying to think of some excuse for why I was sleeping here. Thankfully, I was wearing a business suit -- brown slacks and jacket, not sure about the rest. I was still trying to think of what to say as I approached the father.

But the father directly asked me something like, "Aren't you the tour guide?"

Shocked that I had been given an excuse directly, I said, "Yes."

The father said something like, "Well, why didn't you come here with us? Are you even ready to give the tour? You're cutting it close with time as it is. The group should be here any minute. They'll be waiting in that room."

I looked over to the left wall of the porch. There were iron-barred glass doors leading into what looked like an opulent hotel lobby. The father had walked away. I walked over into the new room. There were three or four short steps leading down into the area.

The area was much wider than it was deep. There were huge chandeliers with incandescent bulbs. The walls were mostly wood. The carpets were all very nice, with kind of Persian designs, in maybe a tan and blue color scheme. There were little circular seating areas throughout the room, nicely upholstered and padded. A couple of big desks dotted the room. And at the far end of the room was a big, wooden staircase.

There were a lot of people bustling about in the room. But right as I walked down to the bottom of the steps I was confronted by a tightly packed group of well-dressed people. This was, I knew, the tour group the father had spoken about.

The father had supposed I was the group's guide. I knew this wasn't the case. But I suspected the guide would be along soon enough. If I could just stall the group until the guide got here, perhaps I could make a seamless transition, so that nobody would report me to the father as having been either a terrible tour guide or a fraud.


I was worried about my hairstyle. I could "see" my hairstyle. My dark brown hair was heavily gelled (!) and swept into something halfway between a squarish professional cut and a trendy, spiky-mohawk-type cut. I also really needed to urinate. So I wanted to get into the bathroom before I really got focused on performing for this crowd.


But the bathroom doors were right in front of me, along the wall to my left -- and the crowd were all standing in front of the doors. So I did a little bit of performing for the crowd. I didn't even really know what they were here to tour for. So, trying to act like I knew what I was doing, I also threw out some questions and statements that I hoped would lead the crowd to tell me what they were here for.


I still needed to urinate really bad. So I walked through the crowd, probably telling them that we'd start in just a moment, but that I needed to go to the bathroom first. I may have been worried, though, that while I was in the bathroom, the real tour guide would come along. I wouldn't be able to explain myself to him, and somebody might report me to the father. But I may also have mentioned something to the crowd about how the other tour guide, or even the real tour guide?, might be coming along soon.


The crowd seemed to clear some kind of space to the bathroom for me, or else, even though the crowd hadn't cleared a space, I may have seen how I could have gotten to the bathroom. But the bathroom I now had a clear path to was the women's, not the men's. I could see, on the wood door, a shiny, brass plate in the standard shape of a man, on the door of the bathroom I needed to get into. But it seemed like I was going to have a hard time convincing anybody to let me in there.


Dream #2


A view of something like a road in the desert -- flat, with sandy soil and clumps of grass everywhere. My view floated maybe 3 meters above the road and was moving along over the road at the speed of a car.


In the back of my mind I was feeling a story of a girl who was working through the boyfriend options she had on the internet. There were at least three boys the girl was interested in. The first and the third boy had the last name "Cartel." These two boys each had three names. The third boy's first name began with "Ph." The first boy's first name may have been William. I don't remember anything about the second boy's name.


The girl liked the third boy, Ph. The other Cartel boy was a big troublemaker. But Ph was a really nice boy. And the girl really wanted to be with him.


The girl's father did not want to have his daughter involved with anybody in the Cartel family. But the girl was trying to figure out a way of explaining to the father what kind of a good boy Ph was.


The girl's father came driving down the road, in the direction opposite the one in which I was moving, as part of a big group of vehicles. A lot of the vehicles were dark and shiny, like limousines. But there may also have been some motorcycles and other vehicles. They all seemed to be driving so that they made something like a triangle formation.


The girl's father, who was the leader of this group, may possibly have been driving the lead motorcycle. But even if he was in one of the limousines, I could see him, or sense him, as if he were at the very front of this pack.


Somehow it was now like I was this Cartel boy that the girl liked. I felt like I myself should somehow confront the father and let him know about myself. I knew the daughter would also probably still talk to her father. And I knew that the father would listen to the daughter more than to me. I doubted, though, that the father would really listen to either of us. But I figured I might as well try, anyway.


***


UPDATE: A discussion of the images in this dream can be found in this entry in my dreamday journal.