Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
A spaceship, or a TV stage made to look like a spaceship, like from the TV show Star Trek. A group of people were out on the control deck. The ship was probably orbiting over some planet.
A strange life form had been detected on the planet. It was causing some alarm to the crew of the spaceship. The Captain of the ship, a man with sharp, chiseled features, bronze-tan skin, and dark blonde hair, decided to send some people down to see what the life form was.
The Captain transported himself into the transporter room, which also served as a debriefing room. The room was mostly dark, with black floor and ceiling, and walls that showed nothing but stars.
The Captain stood with another person, kind of like Scotty from Star Trek, before a meter-long conventional telescope that wasn't pointed anywhere in particular. The Captain and the other crew member were discussing something about the dangers or logistics of the trip.
A few crew members had been transported down to the planet. I identified with a woman who had been sent down. The woman was in a lake. Three strange creatures emerged from the lake. At first the creatures were like huge, mutated animals, with slimy, pink, fleshy bodies that kind of had the shapes of familiar animals, like zebras. Each creature had a different animal shape.
But the creatures then became big robots, like 1950s conceptions of robots, with metallic "tin can" bodies, coily arms, and clear, glassy, elliptical heads. One of these huge robots, maybe three or four times the size of me/the woman, lifted me/the woman up out of the water as it emerged. The woman may have stood on top of the robot's head or found a way to fit underneath the robot's head, like the head was shaped like a shallow lampshade or parasol.
There was now some exposition about the robot. The woman had either studied this information or was learning it on the spot. The robots had actually been made to take care of human beings. The robots were still concerned with taking care of human beings. In fact, one of the robots wanted to do an examination on the woman right now.
But something was wrong with the robots. They may have been contaminated, so that contact with the robots would infect humans. Or they may have had bad programming, so that, even though they meant to help, they often did harm. The robots needed to be fixed. Then they could help humans again. But until they were fixed, they were viewed as a threat.
The woman seemed to understand all this better than anybody else. She wanted to help the robots. She viewed them as potential helpers. But everybody else may have viewed them only as a threat.
The sequence of events seemed to start again, from the point where the Captain was in the transporter room. The Captain himself may have been planning to go down to the planet. But he was hesitant. He was coming up with a bunch of silly logistics questions to stall getting into the teleporter machine and possibly even to stall the mission altogether.
But the Captain realized that others in the crew recognized that he was just stalling because he was afraid. So he now tried to come up with questions that sounded really brave and noble, to mask the fact that he was still trying to stall the mission. There was an image of a long, crusty roll before the Captain.
The Captain now asked, "What I really want to know is... can we safely transport ourselves... into the planet's crust?" As he asked this, the Captain may have dug a knife just a little bit into the crust of the roll.
Dream #2
It was daytime. I was in a car with my mom. My mom drove, and I sat in the passenger seat. My mom was telling me about some procedure she, and then my sister, had on their hearts. The procedure was just to diagnose whether my mom and sister had heart problems.
In the procedure, something like a fiber optic cable was piped through a vein and then into the heart. Once the cable was in the heart, some little device at the end of the heart would heat up and test some kind of stress levels on the heart.
My mom explained how the procedure hadn't bothered her a whole lot, but how it had really bothered my sister. My mom explained how the procedure wasn't painful. But it did feel strange. It made the heart itch, which was annoying. And it also created an unpleasantly warm sensation in the heart. This warm sensation had probably been the most bothersome sensation of all for my sister.
Showing posts with label lake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lake. Show all posts
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Thursday, November 1, 2012
lake panic
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I walked along a concrete path that went around a lake in a small natural area. I was coming from the right end of the lake, and I was walking clockwise around the lake. It seemed to be late afternoon. The sun seemed to have gone down, and the atmosphere was a silvery, pale blue. The lake was bordered by a small slope that came down to the sidewalk and was covered in dry, tan grass, so that I couldn't quite see the lake.
I may have been singing or whistling a little tune to myself when I saw three coyotes or wolves walking in a row near the edge of the lake. The coyotes didn't seem very mean, but I was afraid of them. I had just come from an area of the natural area where humans had been attacked, maybe by a big feline or canine. I worried that making the wrong move could set these three coyotes off in the same way the other animals had been set off, so that they'd attack me.
A shrill, loud whistle, like a steam whistle or an alarm whistle, sounded off in the distance, possibly to my left, away from the lake. The whistle shocked me, but it terrified the coyotes, who jumped into the lake to defend themselves. The coyotes swam in fear toward the center of the lake.
The noise had stopped. But now whole droves of different kinds of animals were flushing out of the lands of the natural area and jumping into the lake, swimming into the lake in reaction to their fear of the loud whistle.. Soon the lake was filled with different kinds of animals.
I continued walking around the lake. As I did, semi-trucks began driving alongside me, as if the path, and probably the thin strip of grassy slope between me and the lake, were road. There seemed to be a whole line of semi-trucks driving alongside me.
I now realized I was at work, and that the semis were somehow a part of my job. I now looked closely at all the semis as they passed, feeling like I needed to make sure something in particular about them was in good condition. It wasn't like my job was to inspect the trucks. I was something more like a driver or a passenger. But everybody kind of had the responsibility to make sure each truck in the fleet was in good shape.
I had worked my way about halfway around the lake. Some of the trucks appeared to be driving into the lake. I focused intensely on some of these trucks driving into the lake. I now found myself walking or riding in a truck (while a young man drove) under some bridge near the back end of the lake.
As I came out from under the bridge, I noticed a barge-like vehicle floating on the lake. The front of the vehicle was the red cab of a semi-truck. Behind the cab was something like the deck of a barge or a flatbed trailer for a semi-truck. Fixed into the center of the flat area was a stout, wide chimney that blew out smoke. I realized that this vehicle, whatever it was, ran on steam power.
My view may have shifted onto the barge-like vehicle, or I may have continued driving along in the semi-truck. But I now came back basically to the same point at which I'd started walking along the lake. Now this point was like a headquarters for my job.
I stood inside a small building like a trailer that had been transformed into a small office. It seemed at first that my shift was over for the day. The other drivers, young men, but kind of big and grizzly looking, so that they looked a lot older than they were, and wearing overall outfits, were filing into and out of the office, like they were taking care of some final paperwork before they headed home.
But some leader-like man, kind of thin and tall, much more prim-looking than everybody else, and standing at a tall but thin counter jutting out from the wall, asked me and my partner (whom I didn't see) if we knew about the whereabouts of some vehicle. My partner knew. He told the leader that the vehicle was in a town about a 90-minute drive away from here. The leader asked if we could go get the vehicle. My partner said we could. We would take my partner's car to get down there.
My partner walked away to get something in preparation for our trip to go get the vehicle. The leader told me that I probably had a few minutes until my partner and I left. He said I could probably go take my lunch break. He asked me if I'd eaten lunch or brought a lunch.
I kind of stumbled with my answer. I don't like eating lunch, and I seldom bring lunches to work. But I told the leader yes, not really knowing what question I was saying yes to. I only hoped the leader wouldn't make me prove I had a lunch now that I'd said yes. I was afraid that if the leader found out I didn't actually have a lunch he'd force me to eat a lunch that he'd get for me.
I decided that, in order at least to look like I was eating lunch, I'd better walk out of the leader's sight. I walked off to my left and down a hallway that hadn't been there before (before, off to my left was the doorway exiting the small, narrow makeshift office).
My grandmother was now walking beside me. She seemed to be about a head shorter than I, maybe even shorter. She was bouncing up and down around me and speaking excitedly about a whole bunch of things. It was kind of annoying. She seemed to feel an urgent need to have all of my attention. It was stifling.
I tried to escape from my grandma. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I walked down the hallway to a restroom. The restroom was for men, but my grandma followed me in. I tried to explain that the restroom was for men. But my grandma wouldn't listen to me. She charged past me and locked herself in a stall at the end of the room.
I hoped I could get rid of my grandma while she was in the stall. I quickly left the restroom and ran down a couple long hallways to another men's restroom. But my grandma somehow followed me there, too. As I was about to unzip my pants and use a urinal, I discovered my grandma standing right there beside me.
I decided that if my grandma was going to keep running into all the men's restrooms after me, I might as well try running into a women's restroom to get away. I ran down a couple hallways and found a women's restroom.
The restroom was huge and full of women, mostly women with children. At first I was shy about walking into the restroom. But after a moment I didn't care. I did seem to have gotten away from my grandma. I started looking for an empty stall I could use.
I walked past one stall in front of which a mother knelt on the floor, putting a little girl in diapers. The girl was maybe five or six years old, too old for diapers. She was blonde, with kind of tan skin. She wore no pants, only a long-sleeved, black sweater with horizontal white stripes down the front.
The little girl seemed to be embarrassed that she was seen by a boy as she was being put into diapers. She stood up, grabbed the diaper off the floor, and ran into the stall behind her mother. The little girl's sister (who may have been younger than the little girl) was in the stall, apparently using the toilet. The little girl somehow proclaimed that she wasn't going to wear diapers like a baby, but that she was going to use the toilet, as if she always used the toilet.
I walked to another stall that seemed empty. A mother sat in front of it with two daughters. The daughters were maybe nine or ten years old, but they acted less than half that age. Nobody was using the stall behind the mother, so I opened the door to walk in.
One of the daughters, a pale girl with very, very long red hair, stood up and tried to follow me into the stall. The mother may have stopped her. I closed the door behind me. But the little girl was standing close to the door, like she was still trying to find a way to get into the stall with me.
The stall was kind of gross, like people had peed all over the walls, floor, and toilet. The toilet now also seemed huge: there was no way I could stand and urinate over the top. But nothing seemed out of proportion. It was like I had somehow become a little child, not more than two or three years old, and I was facing a regular-sized toilet.
There was some weird kind of children's ride, like a plastic cartoon animal model attached to a standing metal frame by springs, so that it would bounce up and down as the child rode it. But it was tipped on its side and covered in urine. I climbed up onto that urine soaked object, trying to find the driest parts for my feet.
I now stood over the toilet seat. At the front of the seat was some object like a child's potty-training seat that attached to an adult toilet. I knew I had to pee into that object. The potty-training seat was plastic and made to look like Santa Claus, with Santa's body as the seat and Santa's face as the seat-back.
As I prepared to aim my pee into the potty-training seat, the girl with the long, red hair spoke to me again. She may even have found a way into the stall, so that she was staring at me. She told me, "If I can't be with you, at least tell me and my sister a story so that we can hear you and not feel as lonely."
I said, "Okay. Do you want me to make up a story?" I was having a hard time concentrating on both making myself urinate and coming up with an impromptu story. But I had a feeling I could do it.
But the girl said, "Tell us a story... about Christmas. About Santa Claus!"
I thought, Oh, I hate telling Christmas stories! They're so conventional. I also knew I didn't want to tell a story about Santa Claus, since I was trying to pee into a urine-soaked model of him at the moment. But I said, "Oh, okay. Once upon a time, there was a man named Santa Claus..."
Dream #1
I walked along a concrete path that went around a lake in a small natural area. I was coming from the right end of the lake, and I was walking clockwise around the lake. It seemed to be late afternoon. The sun seemed to have gone down, and the atmosphere was a silvery, pale blue. The lake was bordered by a small slope that came down to the sidewalk and was covered in dry, tan grass, so that I couldn't quite see the lake.
I may have been singing or whistling a little tune to myself when I saw three coyotes or wolves walking in a row near the edge of the lake. The coyotes didn't seem very mean, but I was afraid of them. I had just come from an area of the natural area where humans had been attacked, maybe by a big feline or canine. I worried that making the wrong move could set these three coyotes off in the same way the other animals had been set off, so that they'd attack me.
A shrill, loud whistle, like a steam whistle or an alarm whistle, sounded off in the distance, possibly to my left, away from the lake. The whistle shocked me, but it terrified the coyotes, who jumped into the lake to defend themselves. The coyotes swam in fear toward the center of the lake.
The noise had stopped. But now whole droves of different kinds of animals were flushing out of the lands of the natural area and jumping into the lake, swimming into the lake in reaction to their fear of the loud whistle.. Soon the lake was filled with different kinds of animals.
I continued walking around the lake. As I did, semi-trucks began driving alongside me, as if the path, and probably the thin strip of grassy slope between me and the lake, were road. There seemed to be a whole line of semi-trucks driving alongside me.
I now realized I was at work, and that the semis were somehow a part of my job. I now looked closely at all the semis as they passed, feeling like I needed to make sure something in particular about them was in good condition. It wasn't like my job was to inspect the trucks. I was something more like a driver or a passenger. But everybody kind of had the responsibility to make sure each truck in the fleet was in good shape.
I had worked my way about halfway around the lake. Some of the trucks appeared to be driving into the lake. I focused intensely on some of these trucks driving into the lake. I now found myself walking or riding in a truck (while a young man drove) under some bridge near the back end of the lake.
As I came out from under the bridge, I noticed a barge-like vehicle floating on the lake. The front of the vehicle was the red cab of a semi-truck. Behind the cab was something like the deck of a barge or a flatbed trailer for a semi-truck. Fixed into the center of the flat area was a stout, wide chimney that blew out smoke. I realized that this vehicle, whatever it was, ran on steam power.
My view may have shifted onto the barge-like vehicle, or I may have continued driving along in the semi-truck. But I now came back basically to the same point at which I'd started walking along the lake. Now this point was like a headquarters for my job.
I stood inside a small building like a trailer that had been transformed into a small office. It seemed at first that my shift was over for the day. The other drivers, young men, but kind of big and grizzly looking, so that they looked a lot older than they were, and wearing overall outfits, were filing into and out of the office, like they were taking care of some final paperwork before they headed home.
But some leader-like man, kind of thin and tall, much more prim-looking than everybody else, and standing at a tall but thin counter jutting out from the wall, asked me and my partner (whom I didn't see) if we knew about the whereabouts of some vehicle. My partner knew. He told the leader that the vehicle was in a town about a 90-minute drive away from here. The leader asked if we could go get the vehicle. My partner said we could. We would take my partner's car to get down there.
My partner walked away to get something in preparation for our trip to go get the vehicle. The leader told me that I probably had a few minutes until my partner and I left. He said I could probably go take my lunch break. He asked me if I'd eaten lunch or brought a lunch.
I kind of stumbled with my answer. I don't like eating lunch, and I seldom bring lunches to work. But I told the leader yes, not really knowing what question I was saying yes to. I only hoped the leader wouldn't make me prove I had a lunch now that I'd said yes. I was afraid that if the leader found out I didn't actually have a lunch he'd force me to eat a lunch that he'd get for me.
I decided that, in order at least to look like I was eating lunch, I'd better walk out of the leader's sight. I walked off to my left and down a hallway that hadn't been there before (before, off to my left was the doorway exiting the small, narrow makeshift office).
My grandmother was now walking beside me. She seemed to be about a head shorter than I, maybe even shorter. She was bouncing up and down around me and speaking excitedly about a whole bunch of things. It was kind of annoying. She seemed to feel an urgent need to have all of my attention. It was stifling.
I tried to escape from my grandma. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I walked down the hallway to a restroom. The restroom was for men, but my grandma followed me in. I tried to explain that the restroom was for men. But my grandma wouldn't listen to me. She charged past me and locked herself in a stall at the end of the room.
I hoped I could get rid of my grandma while she was in the stall. I quickly left the restroom and ran down a couple long hallways to another men's restroom. But my grandma somehow followed me there, too. As I was about to unzip my pants and use a urinal, I discovered my grandma standing right there beside me.
I decided that if my grandma was going to keep running into all the men's restrooms after me, I might as well try running into a women's restroom to get away. I ran down a couple hallways and found a women's restroom.
The restroom was huge and full of women, mostly women with children. At first I was shy about walking into the restroom. But after a moment I didn't care. I did seem to have gotten away from my grandma. I started looking for an empty stall I could use.
I walked past one stall in front of which a mother knelt on the floor, putting a little girl in diapers. The girl was maybe five or six years old, too old for diapers. She was blonde, with kind of tan skin. She wore no pants, only a long-sleeved, black sweater with horizontal white stripes down the front.
The little girl seemed to be embarrassed that she was seen by a boy as she was being put into diapers. She stood up, grabbed the diaper off the floor, and ran into the stall behind her mother. The little girl's sister (who may have been younger than the little girl) was in the stall, apparently using the toilet. The little girl somehow proclaimed that she wasn't going to wear diapers like a baby, but that she was going to use the toilet, as if she always used the toilet.
I walked to another stall that seemed empty. A mother sat in front of it with two daughters. The daughters were maybe nine or ten years old, but they acted less than half that age. Nobody was using the stall behind the mother, so I opened the door to walk in.
One of the daughters, a pale girl with very, very long red hair, stood up and tried to follow me into the stall. The mother may have stopped her. I closed the door behind me. But the little girl was standing close to the door, like she was still trying to find a way to get into the stall with me.
The stall was kind of gross, like people had peed all over the walls, floor, and toilet. The toilet now also seemed huge: there was no way I could stand and urinate over the top. But nothing seemed out of proportion. It was like I had somehow become a little child, not more than two or three years old, and I was facing a regular-sized toilet.
There was some weird kind of children's ride, like a plastic cartoon animal model attached to a standing metal frame by springs, so that it would bounce up and down as the child rode it. But it was tipped on its side and covered in urine. I climbed up onto that urine soaked object, trying to find the driest parts for my feet.
I now stood over the toilet seat. At the front of the seat was some object like a child's potty-training seat that attached to an adult toilet. I knew I had to pee into that object. The potty-training seat was plastic and made to look like Santa Claus, with Santa's body as the seat and Santa's face as the seat-back.
As I prepared to aim my pee into the potty-training seat, the girl with the long, red hair spoke to me again. She may even have found a way into the stall, so that she was staring at me. She told me, "If I can't be with you, at least tell me and my sister a story so that we can hear you and not feel as lonely."
I said, "Okay. Do you want me to make up a story?" I was having a hard time concentrating on both making myself urinate and coming up with an impromptu story. But I had a feeling I could do it.
But the girl said, "Tell us a story... about Christmas. About Santa Claus!"
I thought, Oh, I hate telling Christmas stories! They're so conventional. I also knew I didn't want to tell a story about Santa Claus, since I was trying to pee into a urine-soaked model of him at the moment. But I said, "Oh, okay. Once upon a time, there was a man named Santa Claus..."
Monday, March 12, 2012
flying over lake
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was daytime. I was flying over a lake, as a part of some task. There were two other people around me. They were probably in a small boat. At first they were probably a man and a woman I knew as friends or colleagues. But then they probably became my mother and my sister. An old man, probably a wizard-like man with a long, white beard and a pointy hat, was also somewhere, possibly high overhead in the sky, watching over my progress.
The way I was flying was by holding something over my head. The thing would catch wind, then lift me up into the air. I would often have to drop myself back down to the lake, which I did by closing or dropping or shifting the thing over my head, so that it no longer caught wind. I probably stopped descending when I got to a point where I was just floating above the surface of the water.
The thing I held over my head changed a few times. Once it was something like a parachute. Another time, it may just have been a grocery bag or some garbage. Finally I "found" a device that was supposed to help me a lot. It was like a thin, wooden pole with a square of some kind of metal mesh, like a door's screen, attached to it. It looked like a metallic version of a flag or pennant.
This device could help me control my flight really easily. To move up, all I had to do was flip the flag around one way. To move down, I just flipped the flag the other way. I don't know how I "found" this device: every device I'd used had just appeared in my hands while I was flying over the lake. But I was still proud of having "found" this device, and I looked to the people in the boat for some approval, which they probably gave me.
I now felt like I had to prove myself in some other way. Flying was too easy with this device, and I didn't really know whether I deserved the device. I flew along the lake until I found myself in some kind of basement area inside some apparently large building. The area I was in was tall but narrow. Along the right side was a black, chain-link fence. On the left side was a white-painted, stone wall.
This area was full of boxes and other stuff. But I knew it had been even more packed with stuff just a short while ago. But my sister had cleaned out a lot of the place. Now there was something down here I had to find and confront. It was something like a demon, or at least I was afraid of it because I thought it was a demon. I had to fly up and down and search through all the stuff. But I was afraid of finding something in one of the high boxes. I'd often drop myself quickly back to the floor.
I could hear, or else I was imagining, two people standing on the ground near the back of the room, by the fence. The people were an old man and a young woman. The old man looked like some kind of noble from the Medieval Italian days. He wore a big, dark headdress and a rich, dark robe. He was some kind of magician. I didn't see the young woman very well. But she didn't seem very young sometimes. She was too scheming.
The man and woman were talking about something, probably about making wine. They had commanded a much more innocent, younger woman to help them make the wine. The young woman had apparently helped them in the past. But she was afraid to do so. If she didn't find the right elements for making the wine, the man and the first woman would then make what they called "Diana's wine." This was the blood of the second young woman.
I couldn't figure whether Diana had to find some fruit for making wine, or whether she herself had to go find blood for making wine. I didn't know if there was also some kind of cannibalistic ritual involving the wine, if it were always blood-wine. I didn't know, at first, how Diana could have survived after having given away her blood for wine. Then I realized it was just like a transfusion. Diana didn't give away more blood than she'd give in a transfusion. And she'd regenerate it all.
Dream #1
It was daytime. I was flying over a lake, as a part of some task. There were two other people around me. They were probably in a small boat. At first they were probably a man and a woman I knew as friends or colleagues. But then they probably became my mother and my sister. An old man, probably a wizard-like man with a long, white beard and a pointy hat, was also somewhere, possibly high overhead in the sky, watching over my progress.
The way I was flying was by holding something over my head. The thing would catch wind, then lift me up into the air. I would often have to drop myself back down to the lake, which I did by closing or dropping or shifting the thing over my head, so that it no longer caught wind. I probably stopped descending when I got to a point where I was just floating above the surface of the water.
The thing I held over my head changed a few times. Once it was something like a parachute. Another time, it may just have been a grocery bag or some garbage. Finally I "found" a device that was supposed to help me a lot. It was like a thin, wooden pole with a square of some kind of metal mesh, like a door's screen, attached to it. It looked like a metallic version of a flag or pennant.
This device could help me control my flight really easily. To move up, all I had to do was flip the flag around one way. To move down, I just flipped the flag the other way. I don't know how I "found" this device: every device I'd used had just appeared in my hands while I was flying over the lake. But I was still proud of having "found" this device, and I looked to the people in the boat for some approval, which they probably gave me.
I now felt like I had to prove myself in some other way. Flying was too easy with this device, and I didn't really know whether I deserved the device. I flew along the lake until I found myself in some kind of basement area inside some apparently large building. The area I was in was tall but narrow. Along the right side was a black, chain-link fence. On the left side was a white-painted, stone wall.
This area was full of boxes and other stuff. But I knew it had been even more packed with stuff just a short while ago. But my sister had cleaned out a lot of the place. Now there was something down here I had to find and confront. It was something like a demon, or at least I was afraid of it because I thought it was a demon. I had to fly up and down and search through all the stuff. But I was afraid of finding something in one of the high boxes. I'd often drop myself quickly back to the floor.
I could hear, or else I was imagining, two people standing on the ground near the back of the room, by the fence. The people were an old man and a young woman. The old man looked like some kind of noble from the Medieval Italian days. He wore a big, dark headdress and a rich, dark robe. He was some kind of magician. I didn't see the young woman very well. But she didn't seem very young sometimes. She was too scheming.
The man and woman were talking about something, probably about making wine. They had commanded a much more innocent, younger woman to help them make the wine. The young woman had apparently helped them in the past. But she was afraid to do so. If she didn't find the right elements for making the wine, the man and the first woman would then make what they called "Diana's wine." This was the blood of the second young woman.
I couldn't figure whether Diana had to find some fruit for making wine, or whether she herself had to go find blood for making wine. I didn't know if there was also some kind of cannibalistic ritual involving the wine, if it were always blood-wine. I didn't know, at first, how Diana could have survived after having given away her blood for wine. Then I realized it was just like a transfusion. Diana didn't give away more blood than she'd give in a transfusion. And she'd regenerate it all.
Monday, March 5, 2012
nuclear saucers; doctoral speech stalker; cherry fire; cherry fire 2
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a house with my family. It was daytime, and the house was filled with yellowish natural light. I may have been in the kitchen. All the surfaces in the room were white, tinged yellow with the sunlight.
I may have heard, or I may have been thinking about having heard, some announcement on the radio that there was going to be a nuclear war. Something about the announcement made it seem like nuclear war was inevitable, and that it was going to happen soon, but that it wasn't going to happen now, and it wasn't going to happen without plenty of warning.
But now my oldest nephew ran into the kitchen. He said, "The nuclear war is beginning! They just made the announcement! The missiles are on their way!" My nephew ran through the kitchen and down a stairwell that led to the basement. My mom was down in the basement,and my nephew was going to give my mom the warning, too.
I thought for a moment. How could we escape the blast of a nuclear bomb? Perhaps just staying in the basement would be a good idea. Maybe the basement was deep enough to shield us. But I didn't feel like that was right at all.
After some more reflection, I decided that if the bomb were to hit, we'd all just be screwed. The best thing wasn't to hide. It was just not to act afraid when the final moments came.
But I kept thinking that maybe my nephew was kidding. Maybe he just wanted to play a game on us and panic us. Or maybe he'd heard the news wrong, or heard a bad piece of news.
I looked out the back window. I looked way down, as if I were in a ten-story building, to a valley in the mountains. The valley was like the backyard for this house. But I could feel now that the house was all by itself.
Down in the valley was a flying saucer. It was silvery, and it looked a bit like computer animation. I knew that my nephew had run down into the flying saucer. He was going to fly it, apparently. This showed me he'd been serious about the nuclear missile attack. He was going to fly away and warn everybody he could about our impending doom.
The saucer floated up into the air, wobbling back and forth a little as it rose. It then rather quickly flew off toward the horizon of the yellow sky. But I suddenly realized that I was controlling the flight of the saucer, either with my thoughts or with a machine, as if I were watching a movie.
I kept on rewinding and playing the flight of the saucer, watching it fly away, then pulling it back. I think I even saw glitchy, little lines in my field of view, as if I were watching a VCR tape and had it on pause. I'd convinced myself through this manipulation that all the panic I'd experienced up to this point was just a movie, nothing more.
Dream #2
I was going to see a friend give a speech. My friend's speech was for her doctorate. I don't know whether the speech was so she could get her doctorate, or so she could get into a class that would get her her doctorate.
The room my friend was to give a speech in was about the size of a small classroom. It was really nice, with tall, narrow windows letting in plenty of yellowy sunlight. The room was packed with professional and academic looking people.
Sometimes my friend stood near me, and sometimes I saw her standing and talking to some people. She looked like Julie Potratz, the star of a couple of films by Laurel Nakadate.
An older, Asian woman may have been in charge of everything going on here. Apparently there were going to be a number of speeches given. It was hard for me to tell whether my friend would actually be giving a speech. It seemed like a lot of people were going to give speeches about her work. And one person was even going to give a speech that had been written by my friend. But I couldn't tell whether my friend was going to give a speech herself.
The first speech had begun. My friend and I were standing at our chairs in one of the rows near the front of the audience. But everybody else was standing, and they all seemed so much bigger than we. It was hard to see the podium. I felt crowded in, hidden from everything.
My friend stood to my left. She seemed to be annoyed at me for some reason. To my right stood an Asian woman. She said to my friend, "I know you wished you could stay here. Too bad you have to go in order to catch your flight. You won't have time enough to give your speech after all, it seems."
Some time had passed, and the event had possibly ended. Everybody was now clearing out of the room. I was either myself or my friend. A young man came into the room and asked me if I knew somebody from my past named MA. I said I did. The young man said that that man was part of a group that had been organized to stalk me. The young man was coming clean with the info. He'd been a part of the whole thing. But now he felt I should stop it, if I could.
Either the man had told me or I had just known that MA, or somebody associated with MA, was out in the hallway. I walked outside, into a lobby-like hallway. Right in the hallway was a small, stage-like platform that was about knee-high.
MA sat on the platform, leaning against a column, with his legs stretched out along the platform. He was totally relaxed and complacent. I confronted him and asked him why he'd been stalking me. He just didn't answer.
I got up on the stage and knelt over MA. I began punching him. But he didn't seem to care. I told him that if he wasn't going to stop stalking me, I was going to destroy him physically, right now.
I was still either myself or my female friend. But now MA also looked a lot like my female friend. But I had bashed her face in. She was totally mutilated. I said something to her like, "See? This is what I can do to you if you don't stop!"
By this time I was no longer mad. It was more like I was illustrating something to MA. I pulled some photos out and showed them to her. They were black and white photos of some blonde movie star with her face completely disfigured. In one case, one of her cheeks was missing, exposing her gums -- most of her teeth were gone -- to the camera.
MA stood up and walked away. I was calling after him, talking to him about the photos. Now that I thought about the photos a little, I hoped that I hadn't actually done anything to MA. I hadn't really had proof that MA had been stalking me. Even if I'd had proof, should I really have done something like that to him?
Dream #3
Something about a fire somewhere. The fire had something to do with the name "le.i. revolution" or "le.i. cherry." A woman had given the news out about the fire. She'd been wearing a lot of mascara. Now her eyes had huge, black circles around them. But it wasn't like she'd been crying. It was more like she'd sustained some injury, and been through some kind of flood of water, that had caused her eyes to act in this way.
Dream #4
I was out on the edge of a lake at night. A fire truck that actually looked like a 1950s-style tow truck, was positioned above the water somehow.
The woman was on the roof of the truck, laying on it, stomach down, and clutching to it. Behind her, in the bed of the truck, were all kinds of old, rusty, metal objects. The woman was the same woman from the previous dream: young, blonde, pale, and kind of punky looiking. Her mascara wasn't running all over the place now, though.
The woman had told some man up above her that the "le.i. cherry" or "le.i. revolution" fire had occurred. It had affected the truck in some way. So now the truck was too damaged to use anymore. In fact, it may even have been possible that the truck itself was going to catch fire at any minute.
So the woman was having the man lower the truck down into the lake. The truck was attached by a thick, kind of rusty chain to some huge crane, which was dropping it into the water. The woman clung to the truck's roof, looking back up to the man and saying goodbye to him. The man was kind of fat and old, with a mustache and stubble. But it was plain the woman loved the man and was telling him goodbye.
I yelled to the woman, "Why do you need to die? Why do you even need to drop the truck into the lake? The truck might still work? Why don't you work on the truck and see if you can fix it, instead of just giving up on it?"
The woman said, "No, no. We don't do that. When a ship's going down, a captain goes down with his ship."
I could now see that both the woman and the man were holding to the top of the truck as it was being lowered into the lake. They were both planning to drown themselves with their fire truck. The fact that both the man and the woman were going to kill themselves made me feel less upset about the whole situation.
Dream #1
I was in a house with my family. It was daytime, and the house was filled with yellowish natural light. I may have been in the kitchen. All the surfaces in the room were white, tinged yellow with the sunlight.
I may have heard, or I may have been thinking about having heard, some announcement on the radio that there was going to be a nuclear war. Something about the announcement made it seem like nuclear war was inevitable, and that it was going to happen soon, but that it wasn't going to happen now, and it wasn't going to happen without plenty of warning.
But now my oldest nephew ran into the kitchen. He said, "The nuclear war is beginning! They just made the announcement! The missiles are on their way!" My nephew ran through the kitchen and down a stairwell that led to the basement. My mom was down in the basement,and my nephew was going to give my mom the warning, too.
I thought for a moment. How could we escape the blast of a nuclear bomb? Perhaps just staying in the basement would be a good idea. Maybe the basement was deep enough to shield us. But I didn't feel like that was right at all.
After some more reflection, I decided that if the bomb were to hit, we'd all just be screwed. The best thing wasn't to hide. It was just not to act afraid when the final moments came.
But I kept thinking that maybe my nephew was kidding. Maybe he just wanted to play a game on us and panic us. Or maybe he'd heard the news wrong, or heard a bad piece of news.
I looked out the back window. I looked way down, as if I were in a ten-story building, to a valley in the mountains. The valley was like the backyard for this house. But I could feel now that the house was all by itself.
Down in the valley was a flying saucer. It was silvery, and it looked a bit like computer animation. I knew that my nephew had run down into the flying saucer. He was going to fly it, apparently. This showed me he'd been serious about the nuclear missile attack. He was going to fly away and warn everybody he could about our impending doom.
The saucer floated up into the air, wobbling back and forth a little as it rose. It then rather quickly flew off toward the horizon of the yellow sky. But I suddenly realized that I was controlling the flight of the saucer, either with my thoughts or with a machine, as if I were watching a movie.
I kept on rewinding and playing the flight of the saucer, watching it fly away, then pulling it back. I think I even saw glitchy, little lines in my field of view, as if I were watching a VCR tape and had it on pause. I'd convinced myself through this manipulation that all the panic I'd experienced up to this point was just a movie, nothing more.
Dream #2
I was going to see a friend give a speech. My friend's speech was for her doctorate. I don't know whether the speech was so she could get her doctorate, or so she could get into a class that would get her her doctorate.
The room my friend was to give a speech in was about the size of a small classroom. It was really nice, with tall, narrow windows letting in plenty of yellowy sunlight. The room was packed with professional and academic looking people.
Sometimes my friend stood near me, and sometimes I saw her standing and talking to some people. She looked like Julie Potratz, the star of a couple of films by Laurel Nakadate.
An older, Asian woman may have been in charge of everything going on here. Apparently there were going to be a number of speeches given. It was hard for me to tell whether my friend would actually be giving a speech. It seemed like a lot of people were going to give speeches about her work. And one person was even going to give a speech that had been written by my friend. But I couldn't tell whether my friend was going to give a speech herself.
The first speech had begun. My friend and I were standing at our chairs in one of the rows near the front of the audience. But everybody else was standing, and they all seemed so much bigger than we. It was hard to see the podium. I felt crowded in, hidden from everything.
My friend stood to my left. She seemed to be annoyed at me for some reason. To my right stood an Asian woman. She said to my friend, "I know you wished you could stay here. Too bad you have to go in order to catch your flight. You won't have time enough to give your speech after all, it seems."
Some time had passed, and the event had possibly ended. Everybody was now clearing out of the room. I was either myself or my friend. A young man came into the room and asked me if I knew somebody from my past named MA. I said I did. The young man said that that man was part of a group that had been organized to stalk me. The young man was coming clean with the info. He'd been a part of the whole thing. But now he felt I should stop it, if I could.
Either the man had told me or I had just known that MA, or somebody associated with MA, was out in the hallway. I walked outside, into a lobby-like hallway. Right in the hallway was a small, stage-like platform that was about knee-high.
MA sat on the platform, leaning against a column, with his legs stretched out along the platform. He was totally relaxed and complacent. I confronted him and asked him why he'd been stalking me. He just didn't answer.
I got up on the stage and knelt over MA. I began punching him. But he didn't seem to care. I told him that if he wasn't going to stop stalking me, I was going to destroy him physically, right now.
I was still either myself or my female friend. But now MA also looked a lot like my female friend. But I had bashed her face in. She was totally mutilated. I said something to her like, "See? This is what I can do to you if you don't stop!"
By this time I was no longer mad. It was more like I was illustrating something to MA. I pulled some photos out and showed them to her. They were black and white photos of some blonde movie star with her face completely disfigured. In one case, one of her cheeks was missing, exposing her gums -- most of her teeth were gone -- to the camera.
MA stood up and walked away. I was calling after him, talking to him about the photos. Now that I thought about the photos a little, I hoped that I hadn't actually done anything to MA. I hadn't really had proof that MA had been stalking me. Even if I'd had proof, should I really have done something like that to him?
Dream #3
Something about a fire somewhere. The fire had something to do with the name "le.i. revolution" or "le.i. cherry." A woman had given the news out about the fire. She'd been wearing a lot of mascara. Now her eyes had huge, black circles around them. But it wasn't like she'd been crying. It was more like she'd sustained some injury, and been through some kind of flood of water, that had caused her eyes to act in this way.
Dream #4
I was out on the edge of a lake at night. A fire truck that actually looked like a 1950s-style tow truck, was positioned above the water somehow.
The woman was on the roof of the truck, laying on it, stomach down, and clutching to it. Behind her, in the bed of the truck, were all kinds of old, rusty, metal objects. The woman was the same woman from the previous dream: young, blonde, pale, and kind of punky looiking. Her mascara wasn't running all over the place now, though.
The woman had told some man up above her that the "le.i. cherry" or "le.i. revolution" fire had occurred. It had affected the truck in some way. So now the truck was too damaged to use anymore. In fact, it may even have been possible that the truck itself was going to catch fire at any minute.
So the woman was having the man lower the truck down into the lake. The truck was attached by a thick, kind of rusty chain to some huge crane, which was dropping it into the water. The woman clung to the truck's roof, looking back up to the man and saying goodbye to him. The man was kind of fat and old, with a mustache and stubble. But it was plain the woman loved the man and was telling him goodbye.
I yelled to the woman, "Why do you need to die? Why do you even need to drop the truck into the lake? The truck might still work? Why don't you work on the truck and see if you can fix it, instead of just giving up on it?"
The woman said, "No, no. We don't do that. When a ship's going down, a captain goes down with his ship."
I could now see that both the woman and the man were holding to the top of the truck as it was being lowered into the lake. They were both planning to drown themselves with their fire truck. The fact that both the man and the woman were going to kill themselves made me feel less upset about the whole situation.
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