they were still watching me; disappointing van ride

These dreams are from two nights ago. But I got really busy yesterday morning and couldn't post them.

Dream 1

I was in some kind of mountain area with a group of people. We were all working together on some project, probably to do something like destroy or avoid an evil force.

But all the people I was with didn't believe anything I said about how we needed to get things done. Some of them may even have been antagonistic toward me, trying to stop the things I said needed to get done from getting done, and maybe even trying to get me removed from the group, if not even killed altogether.

But at some point, probably as we headed down some grassy slope into a grassy valley, the evil force caught up with us. I, and maybe another group of people that had come from some other place, fought off the evil force.

But as we fought off and destroyed the evil force, all the people I was with were revealed to be bad, too. They all fell down some deep crevice at the edge of the grassy valley. Some of them may have tried to pull me down as well.

As I watched the people fall down the pit (I don't know if they really fell: their faces may have stayed frozen in one spot a few meters down the pit), I couldn't help feeling a little smug. These people had tried to destroy me for so long. And I knew I should have felt bad that they were dying now. But I kind of felt happy.

I may have felt a little strange about being happy that my teammates had all died. I felt like if they knew I was happy, they'd try to make something bad happen to me. I tried to hide my happiness.

As I was walking away from the crevice, I came to understand that there was some new problem that had to be taken care of. I walked through the valley and up another grassy slope, which was probably bordered along the right side with a rocky outcropping. I walked with a group of people, though we were all scattered out pretty widely along the valley and slope. I may have asked (maybe by my thoughts) one of the people I was walking with what sort of problem we had to face now.

As I walked up the slope, the setting shifted into some kind of office building. The lighting was sort of grey-green-blue, like a representation of fluorescent lights in some edgy sci-fi movie. I walked through a lobby and then up some sort of ramped area. And even though this ramped area went up along the floors of the building, I was probably trying to find an elevator to go up.

I was probably being followed by a group of guys, maybe like mafia guys, or maybe just a bunch of trouble-making guys. The guys were all a bit older, maybe in their thirties. They were all olive-skinned. And they all wore dark suits. I was trying not to head into an elevator while I felt like they had their eyes on me, because I didn't want them to know where I was going.

I somehow ended up in a hospital room. My mom was on the bed. It was pretty clear she was going to die. She started telling me about her foster kids. She was really proud of how well she'd taken care of them. And she felt like they had turned out to be really good kids. I agreed.

My view drifted away from my mom and toward some other place within this hospital/office building. As it did I started to feel really sad. It wasn't just that my mom was dying. It was that I felt like she deserved so much more out of life. She deserved a lot of success. And she even deserved to stay alive to see her foster kids be successful. So it just didn't feel fair to me that she had to die.

I was heading up to some conference room to meet my mom. I walked up a ramped hallway with glass walls. The glass walls of the hallway gave a view through the glass walls of the conference room. So as I ascended, I could see, at an angle, more and more of the conference room.

I saw my mom, probably in some kind of peach gown like a hospital gown, sitting in a center chair on the long side of a conference table. I then saw the bunch of guys who had been following me walk into the room. They all looked down at me and laughed. They wanted to convey to me that they'd known I was going to meet my mom here and that they had come ahead of me to make both me and my mom miserable.

I entered the room. There was an older man sitting at the table, probably across from my mom. The man looked weird. He, too, may have been wearing a hospital gown. He was bald, with a kind of withered and shriveled face. He may have worn some kind of strange, gauzy covering over his head. And his body was all round. But at the same time, he may have been like the head of the mafia that the younger guys were a part of.

The guys were already starting to be a bother. And almost instantly I was enraged. I tried to keep my temper. I didn't want to make the mafia boss mad at me. But I began picking up all the guys and throwing them down at the floor so I would smash their heads into the floor. I was probably either killing or gravely injuring these guys. But I still thought I was keeping up a good appearance before the mafia boss, so he wouldn't try to retaliate against me.

At some point, the mafia boss asked my mom about the guys. My mom said, in an almost mafioso voice herself, that she wanted all the guys out of the room. The mafia boss told the guys to get out. The guys all left. But they kind of looked after me as they left the room, to let me know that they'd still find a way to get at me.

I watched after the guys. My view kind of tracked them as they left the room and walked down another ramped hallway. The guys headed downward, but kept their faces turned up toward me, to let me know they were still watching me.

I looked away from the guys. I looked back toward the conference room. But my view had wandered downward, maybe through the ramped hallway?, so that I was maybe a floor or more from the conference room. I might have seen or gotten the sense from my weird angle that my mom and the mafia boss were talking by themselves about whatever business we'd arranged to discuss.

Dream 2

I stood next to a maroon minivan. Someone, maybe an older woman, was in the driver's seat. My mom approached the van, then sat into the front passenger seat. She closed her door. The window was rolled down. The back door of the van may still have been open. Some kids may have been sitting in the backseat.

My mom told me something about how she needed to catch a ride in this van. The van was hers. But she was also having someone drive her somewhere in it, like the van was actually the other person's and not hers.

My mom was saying how she needed to have a ride somewhere, just in case her van broke down. But it was like her van was already broken down and she needed either to go pick it up or go pick up some cheap replacement car she'd bought. But it may also, or instead, have been like she was being driven to her van, and she knew her van was about to die, but she wanted to drive it until it totally died, so she could then go buy another cheap vehicle.

I was probably mad at my mom for not taking care of her cars. I was probably supposed to get in the backseat of the van so I could go wherever everybody was going. But I didn't want to get into the van. I didn't want to have to depend on someone else for a ride. And I didn't want to put my mom in a position of power while she was demonstrating she was doing something I found so disappointing.

chainworm; i'm sorry mom

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some vague space, maybe like a common area or a cafeteria for a university. The space may have been white or cream and blue. I wasn't quite there -- it was more like my view was floating through it, while also vaguely being somewhere else.

I had probably taken my FINRA Series 7 test recently. I hadn't done as well as I'd wanted to, but I'd gotten much better than a passing grade. But now AB, one of the heads of the company I currently work for (which doesn't have anything to do with stocks, the subject of the Series 7), told me I needed to take my test. I was a little frustrated. It was like AB was completely unaware I'd already taken my test.

As AB told me this, my view floated downward, through some den- ski lodge-like area, down through the floor of that area, and into a big basement that also looked a little like a common area or study area in a university. I was all by myself here, and I may have felt trapped here somehow. I alternately sat on the floor and before a long, but short, counter.

I had two books before me. Both books were study books for the test. Both books were tall and wide, though not very thick. The book on the right had writing in it, like test questions. The book on the left was full of three-dimensional, geometrical diagrams.

I reflected on these books. I really didn't want to take the test again. But I felt like that was really the only way I convince AB I'd ever taken it in the first place. I felt kind of lazy for not taking the test. I knew if I took the test again, I could do a lot better. AB would be please by that. But I also knew that I'd already, from my previous score, gotten myself into the top ten percent of the people who'd taken the test. Couldn't AB be satisfied with that?

My view was now floating through a suburban street, but only like I was vaguely there. It was like, somehow, I was still, vaguely, in the basement. I was also carrying on a conversation with AB, or remembering a conversation with AB.

I had a tickling in the back of my throat. I coughed, then reached into the back of my throat and pulled out a string of phlegm. I wanted to pull out the whole string of phlegm. It was really annoying. I didn't want more of it to come back up my throat and annoy me more.

But as I continued pulling the string, it became a thin, dull, gold or brass chain. I was a little surprised by this. I knew that the chain was something organic: either something my body had created or a foreign organism that had gotten into me.

As I kept pulling the chain out, it got larger and larger. Pretty soon it was a thick chain, coated in something like black and grey phlegm. I started to get the idea that the chain was actually something like a tapeworm. I wanted to get the tapeworm out of my body altogether. As I continued to pull, the chain may finally have taken on a fleshy appearance, something like my conception of a tapeworm.

Dream #2

My mom was in the hospital. My brother and sister and I, and possibly my grandmother (who, in waking life, has only recently died), were standing around my mom's bed.

I somehow got a look at the back of my mom's head. There was a chunk maybe an inch wide out of the base of my mom's skull. This was the result of some kind of degenerative disease my mom had, maybe something to do with her heart.

Even though everybody else was around, my mom somehow spoke just to me, maybe using a guarded kind of speech, to indicate that the doctors had told her that the disease she was suffering from was about to overtake her. My mom knew she was going to die.

This had all happened rather suddenly. Something about the whole situation may also have been my fault, as if my neglect of my mother had allowed a physical situation to overwhelm my mother, giving the disease a chance to spread rapidly.

My mom knew this, and she gave me a weak, judgmental, but patient look with just her eyes. The rest of her face was blank, as if my mom's mental functions really weren't there anymore, or as if my mom were too sad or resigned to do much more than look me in the eye.

I was overwhelmed with guilt and full of sadness at the thought of my mother's approaching death. I grabbed my mom's right hand. There was some kind of sore or boil on the back of the hand. But I pressed my forehead against my mom's hand and wept deeply.