Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a hotel elevator. The elevator may have been going directly upward at first. But then it shifted its direction, going upward and forward at the same time, like an escalator. Eventually the elevator had a completely open front. I could see that the elevator box was traveling along a track very much like the track of an escalator.
The elevator dropped me off at the twenty-ninth floor. As I was easing my way up to the floor, a computer voice from somewhere began to tell me that, because of the fees I'd paid to stay at the hotel, I was only granted a limited amount of access to the hotel. My room was on the twenty-ninth floor, and I was not allowed to travel to certain other floors without permission.
I knew this had something to do with the Great Depression. It was like I was in the year 1929 in America, and that the Great Depression had begun. Hotels were giving people like me special discounts, so they could still patronize the hotels. But the discounts included restricted access to other parts of the building, like the restrictions I was receiving.
But one of my friends was actually staying on the fifteenth floor -- one of the restricted floors. I knew I'd have to ask my friend to give me permission to come down and visit him/her. I was walking around in the hotel hallway. But it was also like I was already talking with my friend on the phone.
I was now in a hotel room, with either a young man, maybe my brother, or an attractive, young, Asian woman. I was trying to explain to this person why I needed permission to come down. Of course, it was obvious that I already had permission from the person. We were friends. But I needed to make the permission official. But even this seemed like a moot point to me now. I may already have been in this friend's room -- this may have been the friend's room, not mine.
I looked down at a vanity that was built into the wall. On the vanity's countertop were some makeup kits and other beauty supplies, as well as some wet washcloths.
Dream #2
A young woman, maybe in her early twenties, was joking with me about the restaurant Applebee's. It was like the woman and I were part of some business that had Applebee's as an account: like we were advertisers or maybe some large shopping complex where Applebee's had had a restaurant.
But the woman was joking that everybody now called Applebee's "'child' Applebee's." This derisive name was due to the fact that Applebee's had canceled its account with our company. The cancellation had occurred, actually, because of an issue that our company did not feel was a big deal, but which Applebee's did feel was a big deal: a woman over the age of eighteen, having an affair with a woman under the age of eighteen, was found taking the girl out for dinner at an Applebee's.
I now saw a paper. I probably thought it was a newspaper, but it was really just a sheet of paper. It gave the story of the two girls having the affair. Both of the girls were from France. The older girl, who was twenty-three years old, was probably the daughter of some high-level French official, like a French ambassador. The girl's lover was sixteen years old.
There may actually have been some rule in France that said a girl over the age of sixteen was considered to be of the age of consent. So the two girls weren't really breaking the law, in France, by having an affair with each other. The Applebee's they may have been caught eating at may even have been in France. But it may have been in America.
Either way, girls over the age of eighteen taking girls under the age of eighteen out to dinner was against Applebee's policy, either in America or in France. A stuffy waiter, a lot like a French waiter, asked the two girls to leave the Applebee's. The two girls must have caused some sort of a fuss in reaction to the request to leave.
The whole issue became really big news. Some people supported Applebee's decision. But the company I worked for did not support it. So Applebee's canceled its account with my company. And, to make fun of Applebee's, everybody at my company called it "'child' Applebee's."
Dream #3
I had a view of the deck of a war ship, like I was seeing the ship on a television show, but also like I was actually floating, disembodied, over the ship. The deck was itself like a stage, rather than like a real war ship's deck. There was definitely a crowd, like a theater crowd, somewhere beyond the edge of the deck. And there were a few men in naval outfits on either side of the deck, standing still, like a chorus.
A door opened at the back of the deck/stage. From out of a yellow-lit passageway walked Mikhail Gorbachev, the former President of the Soviet Union -- though I might have taken him in my dream for Russian President Vladimir Putin. Gorbachev/Putin was visibly angry. Apparently the United States had taken a stand that Russia did not agree with. This decision was pushing Russian statesmen to the brink of considering war with the United States.
Gorbachev/Putin began a speech. He quickly got even angrier as he spoke. His eyes began bugging out of his head. It seemed, even as he spoke, that he was considering escalating the conflict immediately to nuclear war.
Gorbachev/Putin began trying to insinuate this without coming right out and saying it. But he stuttered as he tried to come up with subtle ways of threatening nuclear war. Eventually he had a model of a nuclear bomb, like the old 1940s/1950s style nuclear bombs, in his arms. The model was about two meters long. It was lightweight, maybe made of plastic, and it had a dull, gold color.
Gorbachev/Putin eventually flung this bomb across the stage. The model bomb landed in a pig pen. There were two or three men in sailor outfits standing around in the pen. The model bomb clattered around at the men's feet.
Now the whole thing was like a comedy, or at least like some kind of stage production, rather than anything that would become a reality. Gorbachev, who was now probably only Gorbachev, was standing flanked on either side by a sailor. The sailors seemed to be there to support Gorbachev in case he got weak. Gorbachev was wearing some kind of wooden, cubic frame around his head. This frame was supposed to symbolize a space helmet or oxygen helmet or something.
Gorbachev was acting like he was visiting an area which had just been struck by a nuclear bomb. This area was probably supposed to be in America -- another "subtle" indication of what Russian officials were planning. But when Gorbachev took off his helmet to see what America looked like, he was stricken with sorrow. The audience could all tell that all Gorbachev could "see" was desolation.
Gorbachev, carrying out this act even further, began to cry. But now the radiation poisoning was getting to him. He was beginning to faint. The sailors on either side of Gorbachev were holding him up. Gorbachev had something like an oxygen tube, a white, plastic tube, running into his mouth. Gorbachev's eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
I took all of this to mean that Gorbachev could see that starting a nucelar war would lead to the destruction of too many lives, and that Gorbachev had decided not to start a nuclear war with the United States after all.
Dream #4
I was in the living room of "my family's house." The living room looked unfinished, like it had the shape of a living room, my great grandmother's old living room, in fact, but like there were no carpets or plaster walls. Everything seemed to be made out of a dingy, greenish stone. My mom was standing up at some counter, taking care of something. I was laying, stomach-down, on the floor. There were other people wandering about.
I was staring at a huge jar of what I called spinach. The jar was the shape of a pickle jar. But it was about 75cm tall. It was filled with water and what looked like long-stalked wildflowers. The flowers had very small, dull-colored blossoms, like the flower was fading out. But the stalks, stuck down all the way into the water, were lush, dark green, and flowing with leafs.
The water was beginning to heat up from the bottom and center of the jar. I knew this actually had something to do with the vegetation. The jar was packed full of these wildflowers. And the wildflowers acted in such a way that, when they reached a certain density and mass, they would heat up greatly. If the wildflowers were put into water, therefore, they could cause the water to boil, thus allowing the flowers to boil themselves.
I knew this "spinach" was being prepared by my mother for a meal that I was expected to partake in. But I didn't want to eat this meal. I didn't want to have to eat a meal that had been prepared in the unsanitary conditions of this house.
Dream #5
I was in some room like a living room. I may have been sitting or laying on the floor. I looked off to my right, down a hallway. I saw that the doorway to "my bedroom" was open. Someone must have found a way to get past the lock on my door and get into my room.
I was a bit panicked. I stood up and walked into the room. My room was full of all kinds of brightly colored junk. It was a complete mess. But apparently I had left it this way. I began looking around my room. I wanted to make sure nothing was missing. But in all this disorganization, I realized that something was, in fact, missing from my room. Now I knew someone had gotten into my room.
I was pretty sure that the person who'd gotten into my room was still in my room. So I hunted around in all the clutter for that person. I'd been near my bed. Now I walked to the other side of my room, to a closet that was wide open, with no doors, packed full of clutter.
Something behind me got my attention. I now saw that a little, Asian boy (?) was sitting atop a bunch of clutter, actually sitting inside a drawer that had been pulled out of a dresser and had been laying empty atop the pile of clutter.
I walked over to the little boy. All this time, I'd had a feeling that one of my younger relatives, maybe a nephew, had been the one to get into my room. Now my suspicion was confirmed (even though I didn't actually know this boy). The little boy was darling and cute, so I didn't really bother him. I treated him nicely, figuring I'd just make sure he didn't have anything of mine and then get him out of my room.
But somehow my attention got distracted by something up and off to my left. It was like DVD cases for anime shows were flashing up in that corner of my vision. I started looking at the DVD cases. There were a lot of different animes. I remembered some of them. Others were unfamiliar. Most of them looked interesting.
I may have begun talking about the various animes, as if I were talking to the little boy. But the boy was now gone. I was in the room by myself. But I was still carrying on this anime conversation, as if I were having an actual back and forth conversation with someone in my head.
The conversation actually turned to a contentious point. I can't remember what the point was. But my argument against the point was that if somebody had a wide knowledge of anime, they could name the shows they were talking about. But, I also argued, if somebody didn't have a wide knowledge of anime, they could still probably bring up certain shows as examples of something, because they'd like things enough or be familiar enough with themes that they'd know what kind of shows to look for as examples.
Showing posts with label nuclear war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nuclear war. Show all posts
Thursday, October 11, 2012
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.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
lost astronauts; suits and books; talent show father
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was falling through the atmosphere of a planet or moon. I may have thought of it as our moon. I was probably in a spaceship with a few other people, possibly family members, or maybe friends. I was definitely talking with other people. But I also felt like my body itself was actually falling through the atmosphere.
The atmosphere of the planet was a kind of pale red. The land below seemed to be rather desert, and of a whitish color, tinged in places with a pale orange red. There were clouds here and there, and the overall feeling of the atmosphere was rather hazy.
We had come here under the assumption that we were the first people on this planet. But now, as we descended, I saw another craft lifting off from the planet. It looked like an old rocket. But it was lifting off with the entire launch frame still attached to it!
I shouted out to my companions that another ship had gotten here first. This seemed like really bad news. I had the feeling this was a Russian spaceship. But now I was starting to question the time period I was in. Based on the looks of the ship, I now felt like perhaps we were in the 1960s or 1970s. It seemed odd that we were exploring other planets on such a scale at that early a time.
We reached the surface of the planet. At this point my view felt like my body itself was flying along just above the surface of the planet. Other people, some of them children, probably all of them "my family members," were around me, sitting about or walking about at a leisurely pace. Yet we were all involved in some kind of scientific project.
I still felt like we were on the moon, or on some other planet. But now I also had the feeling that we were actually on earth, following some kind of nuclear war. I may have felt that my group had something to do with either preventing the attack or retaliating against the attackers. But I felt like we'd been too late. I also felt like my group had to get out of here pretty soon. The radiation was too strong for us to stay here for so long.
Dream #2
I was in some situation where I was around a few other people who thought they were dressed up. But their clothes were kind of old and tattered. I was dressed the same way. But then at some point I was dressed in really nice clothes. I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't want people to think badly of me because I was dressed nicely.
I was then in a classroom. There were probably two other people in the classroom with me: an older man and a younger woman. It may have been night. The classroom may have been lit with fluorescent light. I was sitting at a desk. The man and woman may have been walking around. They seemed to be focused on me for some reason.
I had two books. I wasn't really reading either one. I was having trouble deciding between which book to read. So I'd go back and forth, not really accomplishing anything in either book.
One of the books had a Philip K. Dick kind of attitude, but it was a bit more literary, more surreal, and less science fictiony. It had a cover like the big paperback versions of the Bollingen edition of Jung's works, with the white cover, black lettering, and thin-lined, broad, colored lettering. The other book was a hardcover book, bound like a standard edition of the classics. It was some kind of Dickensian style novel.
I may then have gone back to whatever situation I'd been in before, where my dress was the same as, then much better than, the dress of the people around me.
Dream #3
There was some talent show in an Asian country, possibly Malaysia. There were a number of kids getting ready for the talent show. But a few of the kids had gotten distracted from the show by the drama of their own personal lives.
At one point some little boy had gone missing. A little girl had gone out at night to look for the boy. The little girl walked through the business area of the small town she lived in. The business area was an interesting mix of modern roads, modern lighting, and kind of old, wooden buildings. The buildings almost reminded me of the Old West in the United States.
The little girl was walking along a gutter. She passed a little outfit that looked like a little bumblebee costume a girl might wear. But it was pink and black, instead of being yellow and black. The costume even had gauzy, pink wings. But it just lay on the ground, like some kind of shed shell.
The little girl may have taken the empty costume to mean that the other little girl (instead of a little boy?) she had been looking for had given up on the talent show. But she also took it to mean that the other little girl had actually gone back, or tried to go back, to the talent show to do something really good. The girl still may have felt she had to find the other girl, so she could help her find her way back.
But now a couple of girls, more like teenagers than little girls, had come back to their house. They were of a somewhat wealthy family in the town. They needed their father to come to the talent show for some reason. But the father was a little cold-hearted, and he was refusing to go to the talent show.
The teenage girls were now trying to get the father to open up his heart. The father had some emotional issues to deal with. If he didn't deal with them, he'd possibly mess everything up for the talent show.
The father was now standing in a big room on his estate. The room was as big as a cafeteria in a small school. It had red tile floors and white, stucco-like walls. It was completely empty of furniture.
The father was facing my view (as if my view were a camera), speaking to somebody outside my field of view. The father had dark, coppery skin, a broad, slightly wrinkled and baggy face, and wide, dark eyes. He had short, feathery hair, black and grey. He had a little bit of a belly, and he wore a darkish blue robe with faint, black stripes running down it.
The father was telling the person outside my field of view, "I don't have any problems. I'm completely fine." This was bad news. If he didn't admit his problems soon, the talent show would be ruined.
But now a group of people were introduced into the room, possibly by two other daughters or possibly by the two daughters who'd first come for the father. The group of people were attendants and family of another older man. This man was very important to the father's life. He may have been important for business reasons. But he may also have been something like the father's father-in-law.
Seeing to this person took precedence over everything else. The father called to his servants. There was a door on the right side of the room the father stood in. The people had probably come in through a door on the left side of the room.
The father had servants open the right door, which was thick and heavy, made of dark wood. I knew that beyond the door was another large room, this room also looking a bit like a cafeteria or restaurant. The front end of the room was the living area, although it was a lot like a seating area for a restaurant. The back area of the room, just a narrow part of the room, was lit by a huge overhead window. It was just large enought to accommodate a long, narrow, table of thick, heavy wood.
The father, still in the first room, called to the servants first to arrange for the bed linens for the guest. The father commanded the servants to have two or three changes of bed linens. This was very important.
The father then commanded the servants to have coffee prepared for the guest every morning, as soon as the guest woke. The father then commanded the servants always to be on call in the kitchen for the guest. The guest may have had his own kitchen, which was attached to the second room.
The second kitchen was to be stocked from the first kitchen with a little bit of every kind of food the guest could want. And the servants were, every morning, gently to insinuate to the guest that he might do well to eat. They might make suggestions to the guest as to what kind of food would be good for him. But this was only to gague whether the guest wanted to eat. As soon as the guest was ready to eat, though, the servants were to make for him whatever he wanted.
Dream #1
I was falling through the atmosphere of a planet or moon. I may have thought of it as our moon. I was probably in a spaceship with a few other people, possibly family members, or maybe friends. I was definitely talking with other people. But I also felt like my body itself was actually falling through the atmosphere.
The atmosphere of the planet was a kind of pale red. The land below seemed to be rather desert, and of a whitish color, tinged in places with a pale orange red. There were clouds here and there, and the overall feeling of the atmosphere was rather hazy.
We had come here under the assumption that we were the first people on this planet. But now, as we descended, I saw another craft lifting off from the planet. It looked like an old rocket. But it was lifting off with the entire launch frame still attached to it!
I shouted out to my companions that another ship had gotten here first. This seemed like really bad news. I had the feeling this was a Russian spaceship. But now I was starting to question the time period I was in. Based on the looks of the ship, I now felt like perhaps we were in the 1960s or 1970s. It seemed odd that we were exploring other planets on such a scale at that early a time.
We reached the surface of the planet. At this point my view felt like my body itself was flying along just above the surface of the planet. Other people, some of them children, probably all of them "my family members," were around me, sitting about or walking about at a leisurely pace. Yet we were all involved in some kind of scientific project.
I still felt like we were on the moon, or on some other planet. But now I also had the feeling that we were actually on earth, following some kind of nuclear war. I may have felt that my group had something to do with either preventing the attack or retaliating against the attackers. But I felt like we'd been too late. I also felt like my group had to get out of here pretty soon. The radiation was too strong for us to stay here for so long.
Dream #2
I was in some situation where I was around a few other people who thought they were dressed up. But their clothes were kind of old and tattered. I was dressed the same way. But then at some point I was dressed in really nice clothes. I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't want people to think badly of me because I was dressed nicely.
I was then in a classroom. There were probably two other people in the classroom with me: an older man and a younger woman. It may have been night. The classroom may have been lit with fluorescent light. I was sitting at a desk. The man and woman may have been walking around. They seemed to be focused on me for some reason.
I had two books. I wasn't really reading either one. I was having trouble deciding between which book to read. So I'd go back and forth, not really accomplishing anything in either book.
One of the books had a Philip K. Dick kind of attitude, but it was a bit more literary, more surreal, and less science fictiony. It had a cover like the big paperback versions of the Bollingen edition of Jung's works, with the white cover, black lettering, and thin-lined, broad, colored lettering. The other book was a hardcover book, bound like a standard edition of the classics. It was some kind of Dickensian style novel.
I may then have gone back to whatever situation I'd been in before, where my dress was the same as, then much better than, the dress of the people around me.
Dream #3
There was some talent show in an Asian country, possibly Malaysia. There were a number of kids getting ready for the talent show. But a few of the kids had gotten distracted from the show by the drama of their own personal lives.
At one point some little boy had gone missing. A little girl had gone out at night to look for the boy. The little girl walked through the business area of the small town she lived in. The business area was an interesting mix of modern roads, modern lighting, and kind of old, wooden buildings. The buildings almost reminded me of the Old West in the United States.
The little girl was walking along a gutter. She passed a little outfit that looked like a little bumblebee costume a girl might wear. But it was pink and black, instead of being yellow and black. The costume even had gauzy, pink wings. But it just lay on the ground, like some kind of shed shell.
The little girl may have taken the empty costume to mean that the other little girl (instead of a little boy?) she had been looking for had given up on the talent show. But she also took it to mean that the other little girl had actually gone back, or tried to go back, to the talent show to do something really good. The girl still may have felt she had to find the other girl, so she could help her find her way back.
But now a couple of girls, more like teenagers than little girls, had come back to their house. They were of a somewhat wealthy family in the town. They needed their father to come to the talent show for some reason. But the father was a little cold-hearted, and he was refusing to go to the talent show.
The teenage girls were now trying to get the father to open up his heart. The father had some emotional issues to deal with. If he didn't deal with them, he'd possibly mess everything up for the talent show.
The father was now standing in a big room on his estate. The room was as big as a cafeteria in a small school. It had red tile floors and white, stucco-like walls. It was completely empty of furniture.
The father was facing my view (as if my view were a camera), speaking to somebody outside my field of view. The father had dark, coppery skin, a broad, slightly wrinkled and baggy face, and wide, dark eyes. He had short, feathery hair, black and grey. He had a little bit of a belly, and he wore a darkish blue robe with faint, black stripes running down it.
The father was telling the person outside my field of view, "I don't have any problems. I'm completely fine." This was bad news. If he didn't admit his problems soon, the talent show would be ruined.
But now a group of people were introduced into the room, possibly by two other daughters or possibly by the two daughters who'd first come for the father. The group of people were attendants and family of another older man. This man was very important to the father's life. He may have been important for business reasons. But he may also have been something like the father's father-in-law.
Seeing to this person took precedence over everything else. The father called to his servants. There was a door on the right side of the room the father stood in. The people had probably come in through a door on the left side of the room.
The father had servants open the right door, which was thick and heavy, made of dark wood. I knew that beyond the door was another large room, this room also looking a bit like a cafeteria or restaurant. The front end of the room was the living area, although it was a lot like a seating area for a restaurant. The back area of the room, just a narrow part of the room, was lit by a huge overhead window. It was just large enought to accommodate a long, narrow, table of thick, heavy wood.
The father, still in the first room, called to the servants first to arrange for the bed linens for the guest. The father commanded the servants to have two or three changes of bed linens. This was very important.
The father then commanded the servants to have coffee prepared for the guest every morning, as soon as the guest woke. The father then commanded the servants always to be on call in the kitchen for the guest. The guest may have had his own kitchen, which was attached to the second room.
The second kitchen was to be stocked from the first kitchen with a little bit of every kind of food the guest could want. And the servants were, every morning, gently to insinuate to the guest that he might do well to eat. They might make suggestions to the guest as to what kind of food would be good for him. But this was only to gague whether the guest wanted to eat. As soon as the guest was ready to eat, though, the servants were to make for him whatever he wanted.
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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