Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I had probably been involved in some crime. I was probably partners in crime with another man, possibly my brother. The crime may have been something conventional, such as stealing something or harming somebody. But it may rather have been something more unconventional and just, like a crime of civil disobedience. I had been blamed for this crime only recently. I was now on the run from the people who were pursuing me to arrest me.
I was running through a gigantic tunnel underpass, like a huge tunnel that might pass under a river or a mountain. The walls of the tunnel were green and flat, like the background of an old comic book style cartoon series. I was running on a ledge or walkway that looked out over the traffic in the tunnel. There were four or five lanes of cars, all with the traffic heading in the same direction.
I saw my partner in crime driving in one of the lanes. He may have known I was attempting to flee. He may have brought his car here in order to help me flee. He hadn't been helping me before. In fact, I felt like he had done something to shift the blame for the crime off of him and onto me. But for some reason he was helping me now.
My partner's car looked like a cartoon version of the Batmobile. I somehow jumped from the ledge and toward the car, which was at least ten meters away from where I stood. I descended through a slot-like hole in the top of a bubble-like dome that went over the passenger seat of the car.
Landing in the car, I slid as far down in the seat as I could, so that it would look like there was nobody in the passenger seat. I knew there were police on the lookout for me everywhere. I imagined two or three police cars up ahead, monitoring all the cars that passed for any trace of someone who looked like me.
The tunnel was packed with traffic. But we seemed to be moving steadily. My partner, most likely my brother, began talking to me about where we were going. As he spoke, we seemed to be accelerating. We also seemed to be moving down a slope.
My brother said that we had both been called to a place where we were going to learn how to fly SR-71 Blackbirds. The place we were going to was called the Global Education Center. We had been chosen to train as some kind of special agents at this place because of our unique abilities.
My brother and I were now before an instructor at the Global Education Center. The instructor told us all the stuff we would learn in order to be SR-71 pilots. One of the things we would learn was how to handle the button that would drop a nuclear bomb from the jet. I imagined a red, missile-shaped button amid a black configuration that must have been a keyboard but that looked like the nose of an SR-71.
I told the instructor that I didn't want to know how to drop a nuclear bomb. I didn't want to have anything to do with nuclear bombs. I asked him if I could take all the rest of the training and fly the SR-71 in some capacity other than that of a potential bomb dropper. The instructor was probably disappointed in me. He may have told me no, that if I wasn't going to learn all the aspects of the SR-71, that I couldn't learn any of them.
I had the feeling that the instructor was getting ready to kick me out of the Global Education Center. The instructor may have been getting ready to do something even worse to me, such as imprison me as a person who now "knew too much" to be allowed back among civilians. He may even have been planning to erase my memory or even kill me.
But I was less concerned about all of this than I was about being thought weak by my instructor. I started justifying my thoughts, proving to myself that my desire not to drop the bomb hadn't been weak. And I started convincing myself that my instructor really did like me, and that he really did have plans to use me in some other capacity at the Global Education Center.
Showing posts with label nuclear missile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nuclear missile. Show all posts
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
wearing friend's panties; mom accuses me; devil takes over me; creditors harass me
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a room like an exhibit room in a museum. The room was dim, with rough, cream-colored walls. The room was divided into two sections, in an L-shape. At the joint of the rooms there was a huge stack of stuff, like boxes. Among the boxes may have been glass and wood museum display cases and cabinets.
I had been crouching on the floor, my back turned at about a 45-degree angle to the piles of stuff. But I now stood and turned toward the piles. My old boss and very good friend EB stood on the other side of the piles. Apparently my job had to do with sorting out these piles. I spoke with EB a little bit about some of my older jobs. EB listened sympathetically with me, possibly agreeing that there had been good parts and bad parts to my old jobs.
I now turned away from the piles of stuff and toward a conveyor belt, which lay on the opposite side of the room. A young woman also stood at the conveyor belt. Our job may have been to take and sort things which came toward us along the conveyor belt. Or it may have been to take things, sort them, and put them on the conveyor belt.
The woman and I spoke for a moment, then turned toward the conveyor belt. As we did so, three boxes, kind of like cake boxes, slid up toward me. The boxes were a little bit open, and I could see that stacks of well-folded lingerie were in each box.
The young woman told me she had put those boxes together for me. She had a bunch of extra lingerie, and she couldn't keep it at her house anymore. Since she knew I liked lingerie, she thought she'd either give or loan me the lingerie. That way I could hold onto the lingerie for safe keeping, but I could also enjoy it. I think the girl liked me, and was turned on by the fact that I liked wearing lingerie. So she may have been hoping that she could see me wearing her lingerie.
I took the boxes of lingerie and walked them to my room (which was now, conveniently, adjacent to the room I was standing in). I sat the boxes of lingerie on my bed.
I knew the woman and I were in kind of a rushed situation, and that I should get back to work as soon as possible. But when I saw some of the lingerie, I felt like I had to try it on. I opened a box and pulled out a few pairs of panties. One pair of panties was pink satin, in a bikini style. I took off my pants and underwear and put on those panties. I may also have taken off my shirt, thinking I'd put a camisole on instead.
I may actually have gone to the bathroom at some point. I may have gotten an erection before or while I was urinating. So now my erection was pressing up against my panties, and there was a little drop of urine wetting the panties.
I now really felt I needed to get back to work. So I stood up and pulled on my pants, which were now dull-green shorts that went down to just below my knees. The shorts rode a little low, so that the waistline of my panties were visible. I walked back out toward the conveyor belt, trying to put my shirt back on in a hurry, so that the workers other than the young woman wouldn't see the waistline of my panties.
The room the conveyor belt was in was a lot larger and airier than it had been before. The room may even have been open somehow to the outdoors. As I reached the conveyor belt, I was still working to put my shirt on. I was standing right in front of the young woman. I could tell that she could see the waistline of my panties. But her reaction was kind of silent. I couldn't really tell what the woman thought of me.
Dream #2
I was in a large room where a presentation was about to be given. The room was full of people. The room was small, like a side room, or a choir's dressing room, at a church. But the room was decorated so that it looked like a small mock-up of a church sanctuary. The room was rectangular. Folding chairs were all set out to face one of the wide walls, with a stage-like area before it that looked like a flowery altar.
I walked up to the seats and sat down. The seats were now almost completely full. I'd saved a seat right next to me with a pamphlet, and maybe a Bible. I was expecting my mom to arrive at any moment. But now the presentation -- something like a business presentation -- had begun, and my mom was nowhere to be seen. I tried to listen to the presentation, but I was a little anxious about my mom.
Suddenly my mom and sister walked into the room. They stomped up behind me. My mom whispered over my shoulder and into my ear, "Do you want me to be a bitch?" I was a little shocked by this. Apparently my mom and sister were angry with me. I couldn't figure out why. My mom sat down in a seat separated by a meter or two from the rest of the seats. My sister may have left the room, as if she were going to take care of some kind of business against me.
I was trying to figure out what could have made my mom so upset with me. I stood up and walked away from the seats. At first I may have been planning to leave the room. But then I got the distinct idea that my mom and sister were planning something against me, using something about internet usage as evidence of my guilt regarding something.
I turned back toward my mom. She now seemed to weigh about twice as much as she does in waking life. She was wearing a turquoise sweater. She may have said or communicated in some other way that she was, in fact, planning to get me in trouble with the law based on something on the internet. I didn't do whatever she was going to claim I'd done on the internet. But she was going to make it look like I had done it.
I knelt down in front of my mom. I may even have rested my chin against something -- like a huge binder? -- that rested on my mom's lap. I may even have rested my chin on my mom's stomach. I whispered to my mom, "Don't you dare try anything like that against me, Mom. I have a lot of support. There are people who are willing to stand up for me. And I've kept in contact with them. They know what I've done. And they can back me up."
I could now see that my mom was backing down from whatever plans she'd had against me. But now that she was backing down, I was starting to feel guilty. I still didn't know what I'd done to make her so angry with me. I would never have tried purposely to hurt my mom's feelings.
Dream #3
It was a sunny day. I was out in some space like a football field for some high school in a mountain town. Around the field, at least beyond one end zone and the left side of the field, were short cliffs and then tall, wooded slopes.
I may have seen or somehow known that the goalposts at the end zone were secretly missile launchers. At the top of each pole in the goalpost was a tiny canister, shaped almost like a battery. This canister was a miniature nuclear missile. I knew that there were also larger nuclear missiles somewhere in this area, maybe underneath the field itself.
There were now pick-up trucks parked out on the football field, like the football field was supposed to be a parking lot. I was having a conversation in my head with one of my old bosses and mentors, JS. I was telling JS that it was a lot of stress and responsibility always having to know about the status of the nuclear missiles. JS agreed with me. I may have been talking about everything as if I were planning to leave this nuclear missile job, or as if I had already left it some time ago.
As I continued to discuss the stress of the job with JS, I may have gotten onto the topic of keeping a steady mind. There were especially times when this was important, such as when one went into a reverie or dream state.
I found myself falling into one of these states right now. In this reverie state I met with two characters whose faces were really unstable. One had really cartoony eyes. Whenever this guy got upset, his eyes would waver about, like some kind of animation made with pastel crayons. Another guy's whole head would become all blurry and shaky in a really scary way.
I understood that these guys were playing these tricks with their appearance as a way to throw my spirit off balance. I was guarding some important secrets, and I was in control of whatever powers the secrets concerned. If the guys could throw me off balance, they thought, they could get control of the powers.
I managed to resist those characters and wake myself up from that reverie state. But I almost immediately fell back into another reverie state. I first found myself walking up one of the cliffs. But I then found myself walking up a wooden staircase in some mansion or cathedral.
I met with a man who basically said he was the Devil. He tried to take over my mind, rather directly, without playing any games. He was trying to get into me so he could directly control my identity. I had to fight -- somehow -- to keep this character out of my mind. I managed to keep the character out of my mind.
I woke out of this reverie state in some short, shallow-arched tunnel. I was leaning against the concrete wall on the right side of the tunnel, looking out toward some area like a beach. I was rather proud of myself for having fought against the character I'd just fought against. I felt like it had taken a lot of strength.
I walked out of the tunnel. There was some space like an amphitheater: a kind of plaza of tiered concrete. On some of the concrete tiers there were occasional aluminum benches. Just beyond the amphitheater area was a beach or the ocean or a wide, wide field.
Scattered throughout the amphitheater were some young men and women. We were all friends or students or co-workers. We were planning to do something together here. Whatever we were doing may have had something to do with the secret the reverie-characters were trying to get out of me.
Just as the young men and women were deciding to go away from the amphitheater and start taking care of things, I felt my identity shift. I could feel the Devil character taking over my personality. I didn't even care. I thought it was kind of nice. I had the idea that I, now the Devil character, would get close to each young man and woman and take aware their own identities, just like my identity had been taken away. I was very blissful about this, and it all made me want to act very kindly toward the young men and women.
But as I made a few attempts to take the young men's and women's identities away, the young men and women began to suspect who I was. I got afraid of being discovered outright. So I decided to pull back a bit and find a slower way of seducing the young men's and women's minds.
There were a few young men and women standing around and on a long bench. I began playing around on the bench, like I was doing lazy gymnastics moves, while talking about the science and history of transistors and computers. People seemed to be interested in this. I was still feeling rather scared and anxious, trying not to give away who I really was, and hoping to calm down people's suspicions. As I spoke, my voice may even have quivered a little bit, like I was a little kid who was really eager to please and impress.
Dream #4
I was walking on a concrete path in the lawn of a courtyard of "my apartment complex." I may have been trying to take care of something, like paying my rent. But I also knew I was in a lot of financial trouble. I wasn't sure, from day to day, or moment to moment, whether I'd actually have my rent money in the bank. Some creditor, possibly out to get my overdue student loan payments, could actually have found a way to take all the money out of my bank account.
I walked into a hallway leading up to the landlord's office. Along the left wall of the hallway were everybody's mailboxes. I opened up my mailbox and pulled out my mail. There was a lot of junk mail that looked like it was actually important mail. I had to look at it a couple times to make sure it wasn't actually important mail.
I also found some mail from me on the floor or on a chair across the hallway from the mailboxes. I looked through that mail, too. It was like the postal worker had set that mail there instead of in my box because he thought I was going on some long vacation and that I wouldn't be back for a while. It was like laying the mail on the floor was more secure, for longer periods, than laying the mail in my box.
As I approached the landlord's office, I noticed that one of the pieces of mail I thought was junk mail was actually mail from a creditor. A creditor had, in fact, been sent after me for my student loan payments. I now owed a whole bunch of money. It wasn't just all the money that would have gone to my rent: it was a whole lot more money than I even had. I stood frozen at the threshold of my landlord's office -- the office had nobody in it -- wondering what the heck I was supposed to do with myself now.
Dream #1
I was in a room like an exhibit room in a museum. The room was dim, with rough, cream-colored walls. The room was divided into two sections, in an L-shape. At the joint of the rooms there was a huge stack of stuff, like boxes. Among the boxes may have been glass and wood museum display cases and cabinets.
I had been crouching on the floor, my back turned at about a 45-degree angle to the piles of stuff. But I now stood and turned toward the piles. My old boss and very good friend EB stood on the other side of the piles. Apparently my job had to do with sorting out these piles. I spoke with EB a little bit about some of my older jobs. EB listened sympathetically with me, possibly agreeing that there had been good parts and bad parts to my old jobs.
I now turned away from the piles of stuff and toward a conveyor belt, which lay on the opposite side of the room. A young woman also stood at the conveyor belt. Our job may have been to take and sort things which came toward us along the conveyor belt. Or it may have been to take things, sort them, and put them on the conveyor belt.
The woman and I spoke for a moment, then turned toward the conveyor belt. As we did so, three boxes, kind of like cake boxes, slid up toward me. The boxes were a little bit open, and I could see that stacks of well-folded lingerie were in each box.
The young woman told me she had put those boxes together for me. She had a bunch of extra lingerie, and she couldn't keep it at her house anymore. Since she knew I liked lingerie, she thought she'd either give or loan me the lingerie. That way I could hold onto the lingerie for safe keeping, but I could also enjoy it. I think the girl liked me, and was turned on by the fact that I liked wearing lingerie. So she may have been hoping that she could see me wearing her lingerie.
I took the boxes of lingerie and walked them to my room (which was now, conveniently, adjacent to the room I was standing in). I sat the boxes of lingerie on my bed.
I knew the woman and I were in kind of a rushed situation, and that I should get back to work as soon as possible. But when I saw some of the lingerie, I felt like I had to try it on. I opened a box and pulled out a few pairs of panties. One pair of panties was pink satin, in a bikini style. I took off my pants and underwear and put on those panties. I may also have taken off my shirt, thinking I'd put a camisole on instead.
I may actually have gone to the bathroom at some point. I may have gotten an erection before or while I was urinating. So now my erection was pressing up against my panties, and there was a little drop of urine wetting the panties.
I now really felt I needed to get back to work. So I stood up and pulled on my pants, which were now dull-green shorts that went down to just below my knees. The shorts rode a little low, so that the waistline of my panties were visible. I walked back out toward the conveyor belt, trying to put my shirt back on in a hurry, so that the workers other than the young woman wouldn't see the waistline of my panties.
The room the conveyor belt was in was a lot larger and airier than it had been before. The room may even have been open somehow to the outdoors. As I reached the conveyor belt, I was still working to put my shirt on. I was standing right in front of the young woman. I could tell that she could see the waistline of my panties. But her reaction was kind of silent. I couldn't really tell what the woman thought of me.
Dream #2
I was in a large room where a presentation was about to be given. The room was full of people. The room was small, like a side room, or a choir's dressing room, at a church. But the room was decorated so that it looked like a small mock-up of a church sanctuary. The room was rectangular. Folding chairs were all set out to face one of the wide walls, with a stage-like area before it that looked like a flowery altar.
I walked up to the seats and sat down. The seats were now almost completely full. I'd saved a seat right next to me with a pamphlet, and maybe a Bible. I was expecting my mom to arrive at any moment. But now the presentation -- something like a business presentation -- had begun, and my mom was nowhere to be seen. I tried to listen to the presentation, but I was a little anxious about my mom.
Suddenly my mom and sister walked into the room. They stomped up behind me. My mom whispered over my shoulder and into my ear, "Do you want me to be a bitch?" I was a little shocked by this. Apparently my mom and sister were angry with me. I couldn't figure out why. My mom sat down in a seat separated by a meter or two from the rest of the seats. My sister may have left the room, as if she were going to take care of some kind of business against me.
I was trying to figure out what could have made my mom so upset with me. I stood up and walked away from the seats. At first I may have been planning to leave the room. But then I got the distinct idea that my mom and sister were planning something against me, using something about internet usage as evidence of my guilt regarding something.
I turned back toward my mom. She now seemed to weigh about twice as much as she does in waking life. She was wearing a turquoise sweater. She may have said or communicated in some other way that she was, in fact, planning to get me in trouble with the law based on something on the internet. I didn't do whatever she was going to claim I'd done on the internet. But she was going to make it look like I had done it.
I knelt down in front of my mom. I may even have rested my chin against something -- like a huge binder? -- that rested on my mom's lap. I may even have rested my chin on my mom's stomach. I whispered to my mom, "Don't you dare try anything like that against me, Mom. I have a lot of support. There are people who are willing to stand up for me. And I've kept in contact with them. They know what I've done. And they can back me up."
I could now see that my mom was backing down from whatever plans she'd had against me. But now that she was backing down, I was starting to feel guilty. I still didn't know what I'd done to make her so angry with me. I would never have tried purposely to hurt my mom's feelings.
Dream #3
It was a sunny day. I was out in some space like a football field for some high school in a mountain town. Around the field, at least beyond one end zone and the left side of the field, were short cliffs and then tall, wooded slopes.
I may have seen or somehow known that the goalposts at the end zone were secretly missile launchers. At the top of each pole in the goalpost was a tiny canister, shaped almost like a battery. This canister was a miniature nuclear missile. I knew that there were also larger nuclear missiles somewhere in this area, maybe underneath the field itself.
There were now pick-up trucks parked out on the football field, like the football field was supposed to be a parking lot. I was having a conversation in my head with one of my old bosses and mentors, JS. I was telling JS that it was a lot of stress and responsibility always having to know about the status of the nuclear missiles. JS agreed with me. I may have been talking about everything as if I were planning to leave this nuclear missile job, or as if I had already left it some time ago.
As I continued to discuss the stress of the job with JS, I may have gotten onto the topic of keeping a steady mind. There were especially times when this was important, such as when one went into a reverie or dream state.
I found myself falling into one of these states right now. In this reverie state I met with two characters whose faces were really unstable. One had really cartoony eyes. Whenever this guy got upset, his eyes would waver about, like some kind of animation made with pastel crayons. Another guy's whole head would become all blurry and shaky in a really scary way.
I understood that these guys were playing these tricks with their appearance as a way to throw my spirit off balance. I was guarding some important secrets, and I was in control of whatever powers the secrets concerned. If the guys could throw me off balance, they thought, they could get control of the powers.
I managed to resist those characters and wake myself up from that reverie state. But I almost immediately fell back into another reverie state. I first found myself walking up one of the cliffs. But I then found myself walking up a wooden staircase in some mansion or cathedral.
I met with a man who basically said he was the Devil. He tried to take over my mind, rather directly, without playing any games. He was trying to get into me so he could directly control my identity. I had to fight -- somehow -- to keep this character out of my mind. I managed to keep the character out of my mind.
I woke out of this reverie state in some short, shallow-arched tunnel. I was leaning against the concrete wall on the right side of the tunnel, looking out toward some area like a beach. I was rather proud of myself for having fought against the character I'd just fought against. I felt like it had taken a lot of strength.
I walked out of the tunnel. There was some space like an amphitheater: a kind of plaza of tiered concrete. On some of the concrete tiers there were occasional aluminum benches. Just beyond the amphitheater area was a beach or the ocean or a wide, wide field.
Scattered throughout the amphitheater were some young men and women. We were all friends or students or co-workers. We were planning to do something together here. Whatever we were doing may have had something to do with the secret the reverie-characters were trying to get out of me.
Just as the young men and women were deciding to go away from the amphitheater and start taking care of things, I felt my identity shift. I could feel the Devil character taking over my personality. I didn't even care. I thought it was kind of nice. I had the idea that I, now the Devil character, would get close to each young man and woman and take aware their own identities, just like my identity had been taken away. I was very blissful about this, and it all made me want to act very kindly toward the young men and women.
But as I made a few attempts to take the young men's and women's identities away, the young men and women began to suspect who I was. I got afraid of being discovered outright. So I decided to pull back a bit and find a slower way of seducing the young men's and women's minds.
There were a few young men and women standing around and on a long bench. I began playing around on the bench, like I was doing lazy gymnastics moves, while talking about the science and history of transistors and computers. People seemed to be interested in this. I was still feeling rather scared and anxious, trying not to give away who I really was, and hoping to calm down people's suspicions. As I spoke, my voice may even have quivered a little bit, like I was a little kid who was really eager to please and impress.
Dream #4
I was walking on a concrete path in the lawn of a courtyard of "my apartment complex." I may have been trying to take care of something, like paying my rent. But I also knew I was in a lot of financial trouble. I wasn't sure, from day to day, or moment to moment, whether I'd actually have my rent money in the bank. Some creditor, possibly out to get my overdue student loan payments, could actually have found a way to take all the money out of my bank account.
I walked into a hallway leading up to the landlord's office. Along the left wall of the hallway were everybody's mailboxes. I opened up my mailbox and pulled out my mail. There was a lot of junk mail that looked like it was actually important mail. I had to look at it a couple times to make sure it wasn't actually important mail.
I also found some mail from me on the floor or on a chair across the hallway from the mailboxes. I looked through that mail, too. It was like the postal worker had set that mail there instead of in my box because he thought I was going on some long vacation and that I wouldn't be back for a while. It was like laying the mail on the floor was more secure, for longer periods, than laying the mail in my box.
As I approached the landlord's office, I noticed that one of the pieces of mail I thought was junk mail was actually mail from a creditor. A creditor had, in fact, been sent after me for my student loan payments. I now owed a whole bunch of money. It wasn't just all the money that would have gone to my rent: it was a whole lot more money than I even had. I stood frozen at the threshold of my landlord's office -- the office had nobody in it -- wondering what the heck I was supposed to do with myself now.
Friday, September 21, 2012
nuclear war; a violent gay orgy
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was a hot, sunny day. I was standing out on a steep hillside that overlooked a town. Suddenly, in the distance, I noticed a mushroom cloud. It was an unmistakable sight: a nuclear bomb had been dropped and detonated.
But I hadn't seen the flash or heard any explosion. I just saw the mushroom cloud. The cloud wasn't getting bigger, and it didn't seem as if the radioactivity were moving any closer to my location.
A female friend stood just to my left and slightly behind me. I may have thought to ask her why the radioactivity wasn't coming toward us. But I got the idea that the bomb was far enough away that the radioactivity had already reached its limit of affect. So we were safe.
But now my friend told me to start marching down the hill to pick up a weapon. I started marching down some path. There was a whole line of other people marching down the path. As we passed along some tall building, we picked up weapons that lay on the ground. The weapons were about five feet long and were shaped like crayons. These were actually nuclear weapons, which we were going to go somewhere and fire.
Dream #2
I was part of some group of people involved in a pirate-like or sailor-like mission, although the mission may have occurred in outer space. We were in a time of scarcity. The world or universe was relatively lawless, though groups of people -- such as these pirates -- did tend to live more or less according to agreed upon codes of honor.
My group was sitting in a bunch of booth seats at some large, dim bar. I saw the group from a high angle, as if I were a camera in the ceiling. Everybody in the group wore t-shirts and dark jeans. The leader of the group was a tall, thin, kind of pale-skinned guy with short, black hair and a little bit of stubble.
The leader had hired a second group of people to take care of some work we'd been doing. But now the leader couldn't afford to pay the group at the promised time. Because of this, the second group would, by all rights, kill the leader.
But, to get around this fate, the leader told us, he had come up with a plan. He would let himself look like he was being taken captive by another important member of our group. He would let himself be "captive" for a few days, while the payment to the second group came in. And when the payment came in, the leader would free himself and pay the second group.
Now we were in a smaller upstairs portion of the bar, meeting with the second group. Our leader was speaking calmly with the second group, when suddenly a tall, muscular man with long, blonde hair came in and grabbed our leader.
The blonde man was preparing to bind the leader's arms around the back of a chair. But as he was doing so, he gave some speech. The blonde man's speech made me realize that part of this whole act was real. The reality of the speech, I realized, was, in fact, what gave the whole scenario its justification. If it had just been an act, the second group wouldn't have believed it.
The blonde man's speech was mostly about how he himself had not received payment from our leader. But, during the speech, which was impromptu, the blonde man slipped and mentioned some "papers." He didn't seem to notice his mistake. But our leader did. The leader cried, "Hold on a minute! Now I see what's going on! You're at fault for all of this! You and I have never dealt with any papers!"
It became clear to me that the reason our leader didn't have the money to pay the second group was at least partly because the blonde man had done something to divert funds our leader should have received to himself.
The leader never worked with anybody by using papers or contracts. I knew this. Everything the leader did was verbal. But the blonde man had just mentioned paper. This meant he had been working with someone else. And this other person probably helped him steal the leader's money.
The leader realized that if he defeated the blonde man, he could probably pay the second group right away. So instead of letting the blonde man bind him to the chair he wrestled his way out of the bonds and began to fight the blonde man.
But this action angered the second group, who were now worried they weren't going to get paid. The second group, or maybe part of my own group, may also have had sympathies with the blonde man. So everybody jumped into the fight: some on the side of my group, some on the side of the second group, and some on the side of the blonde man.
But as well as fighting, some of the guys started having sex with each other. There were guys laying on the floor, crouching on all fours on the floor, even sitting in chairs (somehow), while being penetrated anally by other guys.
I was sitting on a couch, right about where the leader had originally been sitting (except that he'd been sitting in a chair and behind a table!). I was watching a whole row of guys sitting in chairs being penetrated by kneeling or standing guys behind them. But the fighting was still going on, and some of these guys being penetrated were killed -- stabbed in the back -- just as they approached orgasm.
I now looked around and saw that a lot of the guys who were involved in the gay orgy rather than in the fighting were being picked off, one by one, as easy targets, often right as they were approaching orgasm.
Eventually the fighting died down. Everything was calm. But dead and injured people were still laying around on the floor. This area now looked like a living room. There was even an entertainment center with a TV on it across the room from the couch.
I was looking around the room, trying to find the leader. But the whole sight of all the dead and injured was too confusing. I couldn't figure out who was who. I couldn't make out whether the leader was among the dead or injured.
Now a female friend standing to my right and a little bit behind me asked me if I was ready to go home. My friend said she'd drive me home -- as if all this time we'd just been at some college party. My friend mentioned that in her car she had a bunch of CDs that I'd probably like, including some bands from the 1960s like the Rolling Stones and the Beatles.
I stood up and walked toward the entertainment center, thinking about how I'd like to listen to a particular rare Beatles album that I seldom got a chance to listen to. But before I could suggest that album, my friend said that since it was such a short drive to my house, we'd listen to some other album. I didn't really care for this other album, but I knew I didn't have much say in the matter.
I now saw a small staircase leading down to a back area, a warehouse-like area, like in the back of a store. I may have seen the body of a man with a blue t-shirt on the steps. I suddenly thought that maybe our leader could have escaped through this back exit.
But my friend called me to leave again. I now got the feeling that my leader was dead. I had the feeling that the second group had been too angered over not receiving its payment right away, and that it had taken the confusion of the fight/orgy to kill our leader.
My friend was taking me home as a distraction. The way she was acting -- like this had all been just a college party -- was also a distraction. Everybody thought I had the mindset of a little kid. They thought that if I knew right away that our leader was dead, I'd go into terrible emotional shock. So they were all acting like nothing had really happened, and like I was just being taken home after a party. They would wait at least until the morning, I knew, to tell me about or leader.
***
UPDATE: Added illustration to dream #2, September 21, 2012, 9:55 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
It was a hot, sunny day. I was standing out on a steep hillside that overlooked a town. Suddenly, in the distance, I noticed a mushroom cloud. It was an unmistakable sight: a nuclear bomb had been dropped and detonated.
But I hadn't seen the flash or heard any explosion. I just saw the mushroom cloud. The cloud wasn't getting bigger, and it didn't seem as if the radioactivity were moving any closer to my location.
A female friend stood just to my left and slightly behind me. I may have thought to ask her why the radioactivity wasn't coming toward us. But I got the idea that the bomb was far enough away that the radioactivity had already reached its limit of affect. So we were safe.
But now my friend told me to start marching down the hill to pick up a weapon. I started marching down some path. There was a whole line of other people marching down the path. As we passed along some tall building, we picked up weapons that lay on the ground. The weapons were about five feet long and were shaped like crayons. These were actually nuclear weapons, which we were going to go somewhere and fire.
Dream #2
I was part of some group of people involved in a pirate-like or sailor-like mission, although the mission may have occurred in outer space. We were in a time of scarcity. The world or universe was relatively lawless, though groups of people -- such as these pirates -- did tend to live more or less according to agreed upon codes of honor.
My group was sitting in a bunch of booth seats at some large, dim bar. I saw the group from a high angle, as if I were a camera in the ceiling. Everybody in the group wore t-shirts and dark jeans. The leader of the group was a tall, thin, kind of pale-skinned guy with short, black hair and a little bit of stubble.
The leader had hired a second group of people to take care of some work we'd been doing. But now the leader couldn't afford to pay the group at the promised time. Because of this, the second group would, by all rights, kill the leader.
But, to get around this fate, the leader told us, he had come up with a plan. He would let himself look like he was being taken captive by another important member of our group. He would let himself be "captive" for a few days, while the payment to the second group came in. And when the payment came in, the leader would free himself and pay the second group.
Now we were in a smaller upstairs portion of the bar, meeting with the second group. Our leader was speaking calmly with the second group, when suddenly a tall, muscular man with long, blonde hair came in and grabbed our leader.
The blonde man was preparing to bind the leader's arms around the back of a chair. But as he was doing so, he gave some speech. The blonde man's speech made me realize that part of this whole act was real. The reality of the speech, I realized, was, in fact, what gave the whole scenario its justification. If it had just been an act, the second group wouldn't have believed it.
The blonde man's speech was mostly about how he himself had not received payment from our leader. But, during the speech, which was impromptu, the blonde man slipped and mentioned some "papers." He didn't seem to notice his mistake. But our leader did. The leader cried, "Hold on a minute! Now I see what's going on! You're at fault for all of this! You and I have never dealt with any papers!"
It became clear to me that the reason our leader didn't have the money to pay the second group was at least partly because the blonde man had done something to divert funds our leader should have received to himself.
The leader never worked with anybody by using papers or contracts. I knew this. Everything the leader did was verbal. But the blonde man had just mentioned paper. This meant he had been working with someone else. And this other person probably helped him steal the leader's money.
The leader realized that if he defeated the blonde man, he could probably pay the second group right away. So instead of letting the blonde man bind him to the chair he wrestled his way out of the bonds and began to fight the blonde man.
But this action angered the second group, who were now worried they weren't going to get paid. The second group, or maybe part of my own group, may also have had sympathies with the blonde man. So everybody jumped into the fight: some on the side of my group, some on the side of the second group, and some on the side of the blonde man.
But as well as fighting, some of the guys started having sex with each other. There were guys laying on the floor, crouching on all fours on the floor, even sitting in chairs (somehow), while being penetrated anally by other guys.
I was sitting on a couch, right about where the leader had originally been sitting (except that he'd been sitting in a chair and behind a table!). I was watching a whole row of guys sitting in chairs being penetrated by kneeling or standing guys behind them. But the fighting was still going on, and some of these guys being penetrated were killed -- stabbed in the back -- just as they approached orgasm.
I now looked around and saw that a lot of the guys who were involved in the gay orgy rather than in the fighting were being picked off, one by one, as easy targets, often right as they were approaching orgasm.
Eventually the fighting died down. Everything was calm. But dead and injured people were still laying around on the floor. This area now looked like a living room. There was even an entertainment center with a TV on it across the room from the couch.
I was looking around the room, trying to find the leader. But the whole sight of all the dead and injured was too confusing. I couldn't figure out who was who. I couldn't make out whether the leader was among the dead or injured.
Now a female friend standing to my right and a little bit behind me asked me if I was ready to go home. My friend said she'd drive me home -- as if all this time we'd just been at some college party. My friend mentioned that in her car she had a bunch of CDs that I'd probably like, including some bands from the 1960s like the Rolling Stones and the Beatles.
I stood up and walked toward the entertainment center, thinking about how I'd like to listen to a particular rare Beatles album that I seldom got a chance to listen to. But before I could suggest that album, my friend said that since it was such a short drive to my house, we'd listen to some other album. I didn't really care for this other album, but I knew I didn't have much say in the matter.
I now saw a small staircase leading down to a back area, a warehouse-like area, like in the back of a store. I may have seen the body of a man with a blue t-shirt on the steps. I suddenly thought that maybe our leader could have escaped through this back exit.
But my friend called me to leave again. I now got the feeling that my leader was dead. I had the feeling that the second group had been too angered over not receiving its payment right away, and that it had taken the confusion of the fight/orgy to kill our leader.
My friend was taking me home as a distraction. The way she was acting -- like this had all been just a college party -- was also a distraction. Everybody thought I had the mindset of a little kid. They thought that if I knew right away that our leader was dead, I'd go into terrible emotional shock. So they were all acting like nothing had really happened, and like I was just being taken home after a party. They would wait at least until the morning, I knew, to tell me about or leader.
***
UPDATE: Added illustration to dream #2, September 21, 2012, 9:55 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
dancing missile complex; texas cather library; citibank semi-lucid
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I "woke up" dancing in a dark room. There may have been music playing, some kind of deep, throbbing music. The room was mostly dark, with maybe a dim, red light. A strobe light may have flashed behind me occasionally, showing my shadow on the wall. As I first woke, a couple of people may also have walked behind me.
I didn't know why I was dancing. My moves were all really aggressive and angry. I thought I may have been preparing for some kind of fight.
At one point my shadows looked like coiled up snakes, like they were all somehow slithering down for the wall. I tried to change this appearance in some way, to make my shadow look more rigid and human. But I didn't like something about the new moves. So I went back to the snakelike moves.
I remembered the people who walked behind me. I felt like I needed some kind of approval for them. Maybe they'd laughed at me when they'd seen me dancing. But I felt like I needed to follow them, to get some kind of approval from them.
They'd walked up some steps along the right wall. I walked up those steps as well. The staircase was wooden and narrow. It was hard to see through the railing, up to the next floor. I barely saw a light in a bedroom. I went up to that bedroom.
In the bedroom it was now day. There were two women, both possibly Hispanic, in the room. One of the women was supposed to be my mother. But neither woman looked like my mother. They both looked alike. They were a bit short, kind of skinny, maybe in their mid-forties, and kind of worn-out looking. They had long, straight, pale hair, and they wore big eyeglasses.
The women may have been talking about me being Hispanic. But my mom was saying that I was actually half Native American. I didn't think my mom could prove that, even though I seemed to wish it was true. I wondered if I'd ever be able to track down my dad and findo out whether I actually was Native American.
I expressed something like this to the women while I was looking out the bedroom windows, which seemed to be close together, near the corner of the room.
I was now out in a car with my mom. My mom was driving. It was daytime. We were driving through some mountainy area that seemed to be developing into a suburban area. We drove up a road on a steep, grassy slope.
Along the slope were little fixtures in the ground, almost like ceiling-hung security cameras, except planted upside-down. The fixtures now started firing little missiles out of them, with bright, papery flashes. The frequency of the flashes became more and more intense.
We drove into an area full of apartment complexes. The apartment complexes were all relatively new. But the missile launchers were even here, too.
I figured that somehow this place we were driving through had gotten into a nuclear war, and that the place was just going into an all-out attack before it got attacked. But it was also like my mom and I had been sent to find these missiles, like we were somehow supposed to stop their production. The apartment complex was new. It may have been built just as a cover-up for the missile complex.
My mom and I, as well as my sister, now pulled in through a huge parking complex at night. It was like an airport parking complex. But we found ourselves in a hotel parking lot that seemed to be on the edge of the woods. The hotel was a Meridien. We went into the restaurant.
We were supposed to be meeting someone here. But I didn't have a job. I was really poor. I didn't know how I could afford any food in this place. I may also have been wearing really terrible clothes.
The decor of the restaurant was really nice and modern. It all somehow seemed familiar to me. I wondered how this could be. Then I remembered that I had actually applied for a job here, as a waiter.
One of the waiters walked past me. I recognized him from my interview. I wanted to acknowledge him. But I didn't want him to think I was some crazy guy, just here to stalk him because I still thought I stood a chance of getting a job here.
Dream #2
I was in a car, probably. I was driving somewhere. But I was also in a conversation with somebody -- maybe my mom, or maybe some women from work -- about Texas. There was a location we were trying to get to, on the west side of Texas. Or we may have been tracking someone like a criminal, and we may have suspected that the criminal was going there.
I was now in some place like a library. I had been talking with somebody about an art show I'd been wanting to see. But I'd been avoiding it for some reason, maybe because it was at my old university or run by somebody from there, and I didn't want to bother anybody from my old school.
I was walking away, trying to get out of the building, I think. I saw into a kind of dim room. The room seemed like some kind of narrow amphitheatre. There were a bunch of professional people inside, talking with each other like they had just finished the meeting.
Among those people I saw the old head of my theatre department. But the person was a woman instead of a man. I tried to remember the person's name. But I could only think of a man's name. I wanted to avoid the person. So I left the building. I figured I might go to that art show after all.
I was walking outside for a little while, out on a concrete path on a college campus. But I found myself not too long afterward in a big library, like the Rose Reading Room at the Schwarzmann branch of the NYPL.
Instead of having long tables through the room, the library had either short tables or individual desks. The room was mostly empty, except for three young, black women who were studying under the watch of an older, black, female teacher.
The young women were all spaced well apart from each other. As I walked into the library, one of the women was speaking out something to the teacher, who stood behind her left shoulder. The girl had a really nice voice. But what she was reading sounded really simple, almost silly. I couldn't figure why the girl, who seemed really smart, was reading such a simple text.
But the girl was really pretty. So I wanted to impress her. I began walking around the library with my chest all puffed out, like I was really smart. The young woman wore a dress of almost pastel colors -- yellow and green.
As I walked around the library I noticed that the other two young women also wore pastel colored clothes. The clothes seemed to me very well suited to the desert, which was apparently where we were. The colors also reminded me of something that the characters in the novels of Willa Cather might wear.
I walked toward the left side of the library. I was looking for books for myself. But I was also getting a bit nervous. I felt like sooner or later another guy would come into the library. When he saw how I was alone in this room with four women, he'd get jealous of me and start doing all kinds of things to annoy me.
Dream #3
I was in "the Citibank building," a huge skyscraper that was apparently located in Manhattan. I was here for an interview. I was on a high up floor, maybe even a floor that was still under construction.
I was really poorly prepared for the interview. I looked terrible, and I didn't exactly have any talking points prepared. Plus, I may have been interviewing for some position for which I had no experience.
I sat in big conference room for a bit with a tall, white, skinny man who looked young, even though he was probably in his mid thirties. The room was full of windows and filled with dim gold of late afternoon sunlight. But I felt really low in my seat, much shorter than the man, and it seemed really hard to see up and out of the windows.
The man eventually told me that he didn't think this job was a good fit for me. He may have told me he hadn't thought this job was a good fit for me, even before I came to the interview. He may have wondered why I'd come here at all. But he said this all in a really gentle way, like he was concerned for me, like I was a special child that he wanted to help.
The interview was over, and I was walking around the building. I was up on a floor where construction workers were still working. The floor had walls, but a lot of the floors and ceilings were still in a raw state.
I knew I was really high up over the city. I really wanted to look out the windows, to see the city below. But I suddenly realized that this was a dream, and that I could just fly out the window. I ran as fast as I could. I started flying, even before I got to the window.
As I saw the cityscape outside the window I told myself to focus. I knew that in the past I'd panicked with moving into outside environments in lucid dreams. I told myself to stay calm and just believe I could get outside.
I got through the window, but the enviroment changed. The building was much lower than it had been. And the landscape below was just trees and lawn, like I was in some kind of office park, rather than in the middle of Manhattan.
I stopped flying, for some reason -- maybe because I'd wanted to fall, to see what it was like to jump out of a building. I slammed down on the lawn on my stomach. I pulled my head up to look at the building. It looked like a pretty tall building, and it gleamed in the afternoon light.
I tried to stand myself up so I could look around and explore this dreamworld. But as I did, it changed from day to night. I thought I must haved woken up. But it scared me to think I'd woken up out on a lawn in the middle of the night. I had no idea how I'd gotten here. Had I been sleepwalking? Was I going crazy?
I could hear my labored breathing, like I was breathing inside a spacesuit. I walked or stumbled a little ways in the darkness. I thought that maybe I was still dreaming. But I couldn't be lucid, I told myself, because this world was so close to the world of my bedroom (???). I told myself I must be right on the edge of waking. I heard my breathing get louder and louder, until I woke up.
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