the rite aid resort; hollow leg anemone; out-of-body acne; apartment building stalker

For a review of some of the images from these dreams, please visit this post in my blog preemie: my life's (a) dream.

Dream 1

I was driving around in a different town. I may have been on vacation or on some kind of leisurely group trip. I was staying in a hotel that was at the top of a huge hill.

I may have driven up to the hotel once. Then I was driving around town again. But now I decided I needed to go back to the hotel for the night. But I thought that before I went back to the hotel I should pick up some food.

I wanted to get back to the hotel quickly so I could go from there to pick up some food and then get back inside the hotel before it was too late (even though -- I don't think it was any later than maybe early afternoon).

I drove up a road, remembering the road and thinking that I wouldn't get back to the hotel quickly enough. But then I found a tunnel. I drove into the tunnel. My car accelerated a lot. The slope inside the tunnel got steeper and steeper. It was almost like I was driving straight up.

I didn't feel like the tunnel was heading in the right direction. But then it let out right at a road I knew was just around the corner from the hotel. I drove around the road and up into the hotel parking lot. The hotel was more like a big, Spanish-style resort. But in the parking lot adjacent to the hotel was some sort of two-story strip mall.

Two guys spotted me in my car. I knew that now they'd want to follow me around to figure out why I was here. If they found out I was staying at the hotel, they'd want to cause trouble for me there. So I decided to drive into the strip mall parking lot instead of the hotel parking lot and hang around there until I lost the guys.

I noticed that there was a Rite Aid in the strip mall. I thought they should probably have some food there. So I went in. The guys probably followed me in. The Rite Aid was really cramped. It may have been a small space that took up two floors. But then it may have been all on just the second floor.

It seemed like the Rite Aid sold nothing but cheap, second-rate consumer wellness goods, not quite medical supplies, but things you'd have around the house to use for whenever you got sick or injured or uncomfortable. There may have been a little girl in the store, possibly with her dad. She may have been lifted up onto some stack of boxes.

I looked around a little more. The only food I could find was bags of something sort of like chips -- just a couple bags, and way high up on some rack that made it so I didn't want to go through the trouble of getting them.

I was tempted for a second just to buy a lot of chips and have them for dinner. But I didn't want to eat just chips for dinner. I wanted to have a real meal. So I left the Rite Aid.

I was out in the parking lot. I knew I'd have to drive somewhere else now so I could find some real food. But I thought that was a good thing. The two guys had followed me back out of the store. I knew that it would be best if I went somewhere else before going to the hotel. If I left the area, maybe the guys also would. Then when I got back, I could just head into the hotel without anybody following me.

Dream 2

I was standing out in front of a comic book or zine shop with someone else, maybe my brother, maybe a female friend. We were probably waiting for the store to open for the morning. We may have been speaking with each other about the shop as if it was the first time here for one of us, and maybe also as if we'd just met each other for the first time.

Now the owner of the shop came up. He was a white man, kind of tall, round, and heavy, with a scraggly, grey beard and shaggy, but balding hair. He wore small, squarish sunglasses. He greeted us cheerfully. He seemed happy to see that people were eager to get into the store.

The owner opened the door and led us in. He proudly chatted a little bit about the store. But he walked quickly in front of us and was soon gone.

It may now have been like there was a group of us here. The place looked like a big record store on the inside. There were bins and bins of items on tables all around us. The store had a set of steps in the back leading up to another floor of items.

There was a doorway on the wall to my right. I walked through, into a smaller room of wooden shelves and racks for magazines or comic books or zines. I saw a lot of stuff that I wanted -- items that were apparently books, like novels, but were also zines, drawn in a very thin, liney style. The themes of these stories may have been a little perverted. They were just what I'd been looking for.

I may have been walking around here by myself. But I said to someone else, almost in my head, or almost as if I were in another place at the same moment -- maybe inside or near a tour bus, which I could maybe see through a blinded window as I stood in the store -- that this was what I'd wanted to experience the entire time I'd been in this city. I said that I'd really love to just immerse myself in the experience of these books for the rest of the time we were here.

The person said that if that was the case, I should just buy a ton of the books I wanted and take them with me to the airport. I could do nothing but read them at the airport and on the plane.

I thought what the person said was a good idea. But I knew it wasn't quite what I'd meant. Nevertheless, I knew I'd want to buy some of these books. But I probably wouldn't want to buy a lot. I imagined what a pain it would be to haul so many books along with me to the airport.

We may all now have been getting ready to leave. We were all in a room, just sitting around. We were like a group of schoolkids, though at least some of us may actually have been adults. One may have been Denver's current city council president.

As we all chatted away about something, I realized I needed to take care of an issue I was having with my leg. I had apparently cut open my left leg, possibly along the shinbone. It was kind of hollow inside, with bone, veins, artery, and some other tissue. But what mainly took up the inside of the leg was this peach material that looked like sea anemone tentacles.

I knew this peach material was kind of clogging up my leg, so that it was taking too much energy for me to walk. I knew that if I could just remove some of this stuff I'd be in a lot better shape. So I took some surgical instrument, maybe scissors or a knife, and just began cutting away at some of this stuff.

The fringes or tentacles were connected to a fleshy base. I was pretty sure the fleshy base was fine, and that I just needed to cut off the fringes. But I also felt like, at least for the time being, I didn't need to cut off all the fringes. I just needed to cut off enough to make it easier for me to walk again.

So I cut away at a kind of big clump of fringes. I had cut away quite a bit of the fringes. But they were still connected to the fleshy base by just a little flap of flesh. It was really hard to cut that last little flap -- the flap was so gooey that it just wouldn't snap off. So I decided just to pull and pull until I tore the fringes away from the fleshy base.

Finally I managed to pull this clump of fringes off altogether. Apparently I closed my leg back up. There was a black, metal shell for a computer's CPU. I looked inside it. It was mostly empty, except for a tangle of red and blue wires and maybe one or two other things. I knew I was supposed to stick my leg in here. This was sort of like my shoe, or another natural part of my leg, or something to protect my leg while it healed. I would stick my leg down into the CPU. My foot would stick out a square hole in the bottom.

But I may actually have had problems doing this. Or I may have forgotten altogether to do it, maybe even as soon as I'd started doing it. Then, as soon as I'd forgotten to do it, I may have wondered why I hadn't done it. And I may have wondered whether my leg would be protected, now that I hadn't stuck it into the old CPU shell. I may also have wondered whether I'd even closed up my leg at all, after having pulled out all the stuff.

And now that I thought about all the stuff I'd pulled out of my leg, I wondered after all whether I should have done that. Wasn't the stuff in my leg supposed to be there? Had I just pulled stuff out of my leg that actually made my leg work?

The person next to me asked me if I was okay. I said I was okay, but that I was just wondering whether I may have overdone it on the whole leg thing. But I said that I probably hadn't overdone it. I said I'd probably just been surprised to see my leg so hollow. But, I said, I supposed that a lot of the body is pretty hollow, anyway. And if it's not hollow, and you have all that stuff clogging it up, that's when you start running into problems.

Dream 3

I probably saw that I had a lot of acne sprouting up on my face. I don't know whether I was looking in a mirror or using my phone camera as a mirror. I may actually have seen my face as if I were outside of my body, looking at my face from a low, kind of oblique angle.

I may not have been myself, either. I may have been a blonde man with kind of golden skin, blue eyes, and hair that was loosely curly and frizzy at the edges, like there were a lot of split ends or something.

I think one cheek had small bumps of acne sprouting up all over. The other cheek had a different kind of acne, but it was just as bad and widespread.

Dream 4

I may have been trying to escape some killer or stalker or something. I may have been using a stairwell to escape. But I kept on almost running into the killer.

There may have been a point where I was trying to use an elevator, too. But either people got on the elevator with me who were linked with the killer/stalker or the killer/stalker also got on the elevator with me, or the killer/stalker saw me get on the elevator. So I needed to pretend like I was going to a different floor, so the killer/stalker wouldn't know what I was really doing.

The building was like a huge skyscraper. And there were times when it felt like an office complex -- maybe mainly when I was in the elevator, which I think had (dirty, grimy) glass walls and looked out over an atrium all the way down to the ground level. But most of the time it probably felt like a residential building.

But I think for me it also felt like some sort of daycare center. It may have been like a prison, too. It may have been that people who'd done something bad had been sent here to be treated like they were in a daycare for kids for a really long time. Or it may simply have been a children's daycare center, and I may mistakenly have been put here. Or it may have been a place that was being morphed into a children's daycare center by some bad person, and I was trying to stop that from happening.

But in order for me to succeed and escape, I had to prove that I was grown up, that I wasn't one of the children. But I didn't have to prove this to the bad person who was stalking me. In fact, I couldn't get around that person, or I might actually be turned into a child. I didn't actually have to prove my adulthood to anybody. I just needed to prove myself by keeping my adult identity until I escaped the building or accomplished whatever I was supposed to accomplish.

i have sex with my headless self

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I had probably been riding through the wilderness with my famlily. I believe we had been riding through some area that closed at a certain time of day. The area was probably now closed, even though it was, apparently, still daytime.

We drove down a hill, to a small, lawny area that looked like part of a city park. My brother-in-law let the kids get out of the car and run around. The adults got out as well. It seemed like we were still trying to figure out where we'd go next.

I didn't really want to go anywhere else. I was hot and exhausted. I was so hot that I was having trouble breathing.

A sprinkler started running right in the middle of the field. The jets of water coming off of the sprinkler were really powerful. The water looked so nice. I wanted to go in it.

As I walked toward the water I panted, I was so hot. I could hear my nephews laughing with each other. They were making a crude joke about Chinese people. I could also tell my brother was heading toward the sprinkler.

I started worrying about getting into the sprinkler. I worried that it would hurt something in my appearance. But I was already edging into the sprinkler. It felt so good.

I began floating upward, flying, hovering through the tops of the jets. I enjoyed the feeling so much that I floated into a horizontal position and closed my eyes.

I was now in a bed, looking at my back. I was wearing blue-green pajamas made of a nice fabric. I had the shirt lifted up so I could see my back. My skin felt weird, and I had some bumps and blemishes around the shoulder.

I was a little disappointed in how my back looked. I flipped my body around so I could see my front. My chest looked alright. The flesh wasn't as waxy and yellowed as the back. It was softer, healthier looking, but really pale.

I flipped my body around to my back again. It was only now that I realized I was doing all of this stuff to my own body. How could that be?

I told myself something about my head having been detatched from my body, and how it was possible for something like that to happen and for a person to be okay. I went back to flipping my body around.

I now decided I wanted to "have sex with" (more like dry hump) my headless body. So I flipped the body onto its back and began to straddle it.

But I wondered how, if I were rubbing my penis against the body, I would be able to feeli its penis. It didn't make sense to me. I didn't have two penises. So either I had the penis, or my headless body did.

I patted the headless body below the waist. It was just a bunch of padding, like in a pillow. So there weren't two penises, after all. Relieved at this resolution of the contradiction, I began dry humping the body.

escape from the psychic theater!

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I walked into what seemed like a night club for very wealthy people. The place had a dark atmosphere, an all the men and women wore beautiful tuxedos and dresses. The place was incredibly crowded. I found a seat at the very back.

At the front was a stage where a couple men were performing. Their act was part of a benefit for something having to do with one of the most important men in this crowd. There were musical instruments and microphone stands up on stage, like for a rock band. But this act seemed to be more of a stand-up comedy or comedy sketch act. Both men were dressed in a modern style, kind of shabby, wearing flimsy t-shirts and black jeans, and having long, scraggly hair.

As the act continued, one man was left alone on stage. The man now sat down in a chair. He was suddenly dressed in a black velvet dress. He wore a skull-hugging hat and possibly a necklace, both made of something like diamonds. He was dressed as a woman, but he was acting like a transvestite. This transvestite had just been asked to a dance that was a big social event among the wealthy.

The transvestite began giving a monologue, but through voice over, a loudspeaker playing his words, as if they were his thoughts, while he sat still, without moving his lips. The thoughts began with wondering how he should act at the dance. But they eventually turned to some boy, whom the transvestite may have liked.

This act all became too plainly a mockery of the son of important rich man in whose honor this ball was being thrown. It was in bad taste to make fun of the son at this event, possibly because the rich man was sensitive about his son, but possibly because the son had actually died not too long ago.

The man playing the transvestite knew he needed to tone down his act, or change it altogether, before the important rich man ruined his career. So the man playing the transvestite stood up and walked to a microphone and began giving some serious, kind of sentimental act, showing what a wonderful person the son had been.

In the middle of this act, one of my old schoolmates from college, JSp, walked out on stage. A spotlight shone on him. He walked straight forward, as if in a trance, to, and then beyond, the end of the stage. He may have been muttering something as he walked, like he was a little crazy. He continued his walk forward, all the way to the back of the room, as if a walkway had just then been formed for him.

I was now at the back end of a theater, like a small theater in the Village. I was surrounded by old friends from college. We were all our current ages. We were watching a new performance by some of our friends. Some of us who were watching may also have been scheduled to go on stage later on. I was not going on stage.

The people who now got up on stage, ML and one other person, looked and acted like crazy people. They were all scraggly, dirty, and pale. Their hair was thinning, but disheveled, and they wore coats that were way too big for them. They just seemed to putter around on stage, mumbling strange things, more to themselves than to each other. They may also have walked off the regular stage and onto a network of walkways that went around and behind the audience.

Another group of people walked out onto the stage. They also appeared to be old friends of mine from college. They began speaking, either to each other or to the crowd, about moving around either in the dream world or in a state like the out-of-body state. They said that it was an easy thing to do, and that they were a little surprised and disappointed that the people in the audience hadn't started doing it before now. It was like the audience was a class of people experienced at this type of dream movement or out-of-body movement.

Other people around me seemed, at this prompting, quickly to have jumped into this altered state. I had taken quite a while in getting to it. I stood up and ran toward the stage. (Actually, I must have flown toward the stage without thinking of it -- I was going over the heads of the crowd and not using one of the walkways.)

I reached the stage and approached the back of the stage, which was a solid wall. As I approached the wall, it opened up, like an eye would open, and let me out into an area like an alleyway in a big city. There was a long, warehouse-like building off to my right. I knew I could fly, so I got a running start, then began flying up along the building.

I may have planned to fly over the building. But for some reason I landed. I may not have had the ability to fly anymore. I began running along the building, possibly (not really sure) because I thought that once I reached the end of the building I'd have the momentum to fly again. But I kept running and running, never reaching the end of the building.

All around the building was complete darkness, and all around me was fog. I saw through this darkness and fog as if I were running with a headlight guiding my path. I was starting to wonder whether I'd just keep running like this forever and ever. I thought to myself, What's going on? I'm getting nowhere!

Suddenly a hand grabbed my left arm. A voice said, "Dude! You are getting somewhere! You have to calm down your thoughts and uncloud your vision." The voice may have told me to "pull down my shades," as if I were wearing sunglasses or some special kind of eyeglasses.

I reached up to my eyes and pulled down my shades -- oddly enough, I think I pulled them down over my eyes instead of under them. My vision sparkled with slow, white gleams for a moment. As the gleams dispersed, my eyes felt a bit of strain, like I was trying really hard to keep my eyes open while I was tired.

My vision slowly cleared, and I could see that I was in a long driving tunnel, like the Holland Tunnel in New York. But the tunnel may have been kind of narrow, and there were a lot of people out walking around in it. The man and I were actually in a car. I was driving and the man was in the passenger seat.

The car was driving slow and the people were moving slow. But the people would often suddenly walk straight across the tunnel, or they would randomly swerve into the center of the tunnel. I would have to react quickly to avoid hitting the people, even though both their and my actions were so slow. The man said, "See? When you were driving blindly, you risked hitting all these people. You need to stay aware of where you really are, or else you're going to hurt someone."

At this point my consciousness may have faded into some kind of "real life scenario." I don't really remember what it was, though.

But as the "real life scenario" ended -- possibly with my not having done a good job and fighting to get out of the scenario! -- my vision faded, again through the sparkles, into the tunnel. Again the people in the tunnel seemed would get in the way of my car and I'd have to react quickly to avoid hitting them.

But my car slowly faded away, and I found myself out walking among the people. The slow motion suddenly cleared away. When the slow motion cleared, the people in the tunnel also changed a little bit. The tunnel itself also became narrower and smaller, kind of like a footpath tunnel, or even a hallway. The atmosphere, which before had felt so slow and sticky, now felt clear and normal. But most of the people were walking around in a complete daze, like they were on some other world.

I began recognizing people. I knew that I'd known them from the audience I'd been in before I'd made the jump through the stage wall. But none of these people were from my college days. One may possibly have been a girl from the neighborhood I'd lived in before going to college.

I realized that we had all actually been part of some experiment, maybe a government experiment, on psychic people. We were all brought together and then drugged into a state where we would perform our psychic abilities -- mostly out-of-body type abilities. During the experiences, I realized, if we had the ability to see each other for who we really were, we'd recognize each other from the past experiences. But we were so drugged during the experiences that once we woke up, we'd all forget each other.

I hoped to push past this somehow and hold onto my recognition of some of these people. The girl from my old neighborhood seemed to be a little more awake than the others. So I said, "Hey," as she walked past. There was a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. But she kept walking. Another woman, maybe a heavyset Hispanic woman, also seemed to be a little awake. So I tried to get her attention. But she also only slightly recognized me. So I kept walking.

I knew that I was still in full control of my psychic abilities and my consciousness. So I decided to get out of this place before the government could take it away again. There was a door out of the hallway right in front of me. I simply opened it. I could see the night sky, and the hint of some big, hospital-like building (of which this hallway must have been a part) outside the door.

I was about to leave, but a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. It was a big, fat, black man in a police uniform. He said, "Uh-uh, sir. You aren't going anywhere."

I figured I would still try to escape. But as I tried to back toward the door, the officer pulled out a (purple plastic?) revolver and shot at me. The officer may have hit me with a tranquilizer dart. I knew the officer was trying to sedate me, so he could end my process, erase my memory, and set me back into my normal environment, unaware of what I'd been through.

But I refused to be taken down so easily. I said, "Oh, fuck that bull shit!" I somehow managed to overpower the officer. Either by using my strength (LOL!) or by using psychic powers, I managed to make the officer twist the revolver in toward his own stomach.

I made the officer shoot himself in the stomach with a tranquilizer dart. As the officer did this, he cried, "Oh, dear god, no." He passed out and slumped to the ground. I was holding the tranquilizer gun.

I ran out into the night. Beyond the hospital-like building was a hilly lawn that seemed to be lit by large, stadium-style lights. I seemed to have come out of a door inside of or near some black, tarp-like or tent-like structure, the front of which was flapping back and forth a little. In the distance were a couple workers. I had a bad feeling that they were security officers or that, if they saw me, they'd call security workers to capture me.

I continued running. I was afraid that the tranquilizer -- I wasn't sure whether it had hit me -- was going to take effect and make me pass out very soon. I wanted to keep running, either until I escaped or until the tranquilizer made me pass out. I thought that I could, at the very least, get far away from the building and hide myself somewhere.

I ran toward the top of a hill where there stood a tree with a wide canopy. I ran between the tree, which was on my left, and a fence, which was on my right. On the other side of the fence there seemed to be a densely wooded area. I was still carrying the tranquilizer gun. I threw the gun over the fence, apparently thinking that by doing so I would eliminate the evidence that I had shot the officer with it.

Only a moment after throwing the gun over the fence, I began flying. I slowly floated up over the fence and then up into the thin branches of the densely wooded area. The branches began changing color, becoming pinkish or pinkish-orange.

There seemed to be a place among these strangely colored branches where I could rest, possibly even let myself pass out, and not be detected by the security officers. The place seemed somehow to be disappointing to me, like it was a shabby tree house or a dwelling built by a bunch of dirty monkeys. I didn't really want to be here. But I had no choice. There was nowhere else for me to go.

As soon as I set myself down on the planks that made up the floor of this place, the place changed. First it changed into some kind of living room or entertainment room that seemed to be on a balcony-like floor in a big house. I could see over the balcony ledge to another living room-like area on the floor below.

The view then, while keeping its location steady, became cartoon-like, like flat, thick-lined cartoons such as Dexter's Laboratory. Some cartoon characters actually came into my view. They were all short, little characters, like Dexter. They were also childlike, somehow.

There was some adult woman on the floor below, a kind of guardian to these cartoon characters. The woman may have been real, not cartoon. The cartoon characters were all warning me to be quiet, so that I didn't wake up the woman. If the woman woke up and found out I was hiding here, she'd probably get really angry.