rejected body switch; pink adult diapers; little girls at the theater; gigantic domed building

Dream 1

I was probably getting my body switched with someone. I don't know where we were. I was looking up, as if I were almost lying on the ground, toward a woman or a person who had been body-switched into a female body.

The person was bald. Her eyes were rather blank. The underside of her head exposed muscles, like the skin was gone, or like the skin was fabric or material that had run out while the body was being made or reconstructed. But the muscles were flesh-colored, not red and bloody. I probably saw all of this through a tangle of close, black wired.

I was now walking around outside, probably in some big parking lot. It was a sunny day. It was probably morning. But the sunlight was golden, like in late afternoon. The asphalt was dark black, like new.

I was out ahead of some other people. I looked behind to them. Among them was a woman who looked like a cyborg -- probably with a human head but a robotic body. I knew that woman had had her body switched with mine. She'd wanted to be a man, and I'd wanted to be a woman. So we'd switched bodies. But I think her new body wasn't taking so well, and there was a bad feeling that she might die.

I turned my head and started walking forward. I had some misgivings about my new body, too. I had a weird feeling around my jawline, like my face was starting to get rejected, like the tissue was starting to die. I'd be left without a face.

Now I was noticing how difficult it was to walk. It was like the muscles or tendons all around my hips, on the front of my body, were extremely weak. It was like the muscles or tendons were made out of garbage bags. I was more and more exhausted with each step I took.

My body was probably all some kind of black metal, just like the body of the person in the distance behind me. We apparently had real, human bodies -- each other's old bodies, in fact. But the bodies were also these strange, robotic bodies.

I wondered whether my legs weren't being rejected. Were my leg tissues dying? If so, I imagined, my whole body would likely die. However, I also thought that maybe my body was just healing after the body switch. It might take time for my body to get back to normal. But I didn't really know.

I was worried. But I figured that, regardless of what the truth was, I might as well just go about my daily life as if my body weren't going to fail. After all, I didn't want it to fail. I was finally in a woman's body. I could finally live life the way I wanted to.

I got to some place, probably my office, which was a weird, thin structure, like the stairwell up to the bridge-like overpasses that take you from train platform to train platform in railway stations. The inside was very dark, like the walls were all black. The stairway was black. It was also probably made of some kind of marble or granite. A lot of people filed into the building, a stream of business people heading to and up the stairs.

By now, the people who had been walking behind me in the parking lot, who were now likely the scientists who had performed the body switch, were ahead of me, a few steps up the stairway. I knew I needed to follow them so they could monitor my progress.

But I walked only a couple steps up the stairway before I got extremely exhausted. It was so hard to walk with these legs! I didn't think my heart would be able to handle getting all the way up the steps. I really did think now that my body was doomed to fail.

I stood down at the foot of the steps again. There may have been so many business people heading up the steps that it was hard for me not to be carried by their momentum into walking up the steps. But I was trying to figure out what I should do. Should I stay down here and try to find medical help?

I decided to start walking up the steps again. I needed to stay with the scientists. And if I was going to die, I might as well just keep on going, anyway. But maybe my body was just getting back to normal. I decided that what I would do is take each step very easily and slowly, so that I wouldn't put too much strain on myself. I figured that if I couldn't even handle the strain of walking slowly up the steps, I would make a new plan.

Dream 2

I was probably in my house. It may have been a bright day, or it may have been night, and I had lights on in my house. I stood in front of a white wardrobe I have in my living room for linens and cleaning supplies.

I opened the door to the wardrobe. Apparently there were adult baby diapers inside. As soon as I saw them, I was wearing them. I was naked, except for a pink pair of adult baby diapers.

I looked at myself in a mirror that was probably fixed to the back wall of the wardrobe. I was surprised by how good I looked. My body was skinny and smoothly muscular. The adult baby diapers also made my hips look nice.

I swayed my hips back and forth in the mirror. I then turned away from the mirror, probably heading toward my bedroom. I felt so sexy, I thought I would play out some sort of fantasy in my head.

Dream 3

I was probably backstage at some play or musical performance. I had probably come to see the performance. Maybe some of my friends were in it. But I had somehow ended up backstage, like I'd needed to help with things. And now, getting all mixed up in the things happening here, I couldn't be sure whether I'd get out to my seat on time to see things, or whether I'd miss finding out that the performance had been totally canceled.

At some point there was a bald, kind of heavy, white man with thick-rimmed glasses who stood above the rest of the working crowd. He probably had a megaphone. He giving the workers direction. Things were really starting to move now. So I felt like maybe we'd wrap up with whatever we were doing and I could get out into the audience in time for the start of the show.

As the man spoke, the crowd of workers became something more like a big sea of tables with people, like at a big bar or a big awards ceremony. But it also felt like a huge cafeteria or beer garden, with long rows of tables. The light was yellow-grey-green, but very warm-feeling. Everybody seemed like they were in a good mood -- like they were all out drinking and having a good time. I figured that everybody was relaxed enough that there was no doubt I'd be on time to see the show.

I walked a bit farther. I may have heard some voices. I was basically by myself now. I saw, off to my left, a group of people at a microphone. They were all reading a script. It was like they were speaking for people who were out on stage. I realized that the show had already started. But I wasn't here to see the whole show. I was just here to see an act.

I knew now that I was pretty far backstage. I wanted to walk up as close to the stage as I could to see what act was on, to figure whether I'd have enough time to get seated for the act I'd come to see. The backstage area was enormous: a huge, white room, with occasional stage-like black wires and metal frames hanging down here and there. But overall it looked more like the interior of a gigantic Spanish mission than the backstage of a theater.

I probably felt a flash of stage lights, like I was almost to the stage. I may even have imagined myself for a brief instant as the beautiful, 1940s-style starlet up on stage.

I was now looking through some sort of railing, like heavy, classical stone railing. On the other side of the railing was something like a church. A lot of people were seated in pews. But the pews really looked like booth tables at a restaurant. There was a gigantic room filled with these booth tables.

All of these people were here for the show, which hadn't started yet, and which was to be either a church service with a sermon by a really powerful speaker or some kind of performance by a Christian performance group that would visit churches. Everybody seemed very friendly. But they were all very Christian. So I knew they wouldn't like me if they got to know my personal beliefs and inclinations.

I focused on one particular booth table. It was up in some section of tables that was elevated about four or five feet above where I was standing. It was actually like a lot or all of the table areas were elevated about the walkway areas.

The man at the table, the father (the mother was probably there, too), was tall, muscular, white, but tanned like he did a lot of outdoor activity. He wore a t-shirt, green khaki shorts, and a pink, weathered baseball cap. I knew that if he met me, he'd probably like me for a second or two then decide not to like me, maybe because of my olive skin, maybe because he could sense some kind of weirdness about my sexuality. So I tried to stay out of his field of attention altogether.

The man was calling for his daughter. I thought I'd try to help find the man's daughter, but without drawing attention to myself. I saw the man's daughter somewhere. She was a young girl, pretty and blonde. She may have been really girly, with hair in poofy ringlets and wearing an old, frilly kind of dress.

I found the little girl very attractive. So I wanted to talk to her. But I knew that if the father saw me talking to the girl he'd really be angry at me and probably find ways to make me feel bullied, by him or others, for the rest of the time that I was here. But I still wanted to help the daughter get to the father. So I knew I needed to somehow get the girl's attention, then draw her attention back to her father. The girl may also have seen me and wanted to talk to me. But she may have been too shy.

I might simply have given up on talking to and helping the little girl. I may just have seen that there was no way I could win.

The walkways now all ended in something like a close, dim elevator lobby. The lobby had dark, rich carpet and dark, polished stone walls. The elevator doors were made of polished gold or brass. There were shiny, black panels that would occasionally display messages in red, digital lettering. It was like this was a hotel. But it was also like it had a museum or something in it.

Some people, mostly mothers, sat on the floor, playing with their kids or talking as their kids played about. There was one young girl I was attracted to for some reason. She was tall, olive-skinned like me, kind of heavy, with straight black hair. She wore a purple t-shirt and black sweats. I felt like she was maybe twelve years old, though she may have been as tall as or taller than I.

I tried to avoid looking at the girl. I didn't want to creep her out, and I didn't want the mothers to know I was attracted to her. I headed straight toward the elevator.

The mothers were talking about what the kids liked to do while they were at this building. The mother said, "She" (meaning the girl in the purple shirt) "loves to go with her aunt and shuttle all the way up to the 72nd floor! They do that as many times a day as they can."

I got really dizzy. I hadn't known this building was at least 72 stories tall! I had thought it was just a theater building. I also knew I was heading up the elevator. But I didn't know where to. I was suddenly really hesitant about even getting onto the elevator. Would I have to go up to the 72nd floor? Or even higher?

I started to justify everything. Just because the building was at least 72 stories tall, that didn't mean the place I was going to had to be that high up. I obviously didn't need to worry about it. So I felt better.

But then I got worried again. I thought, If I'm in a building that's 72 stories tall, if it falls, it will definitely crush me and kill me!

I was really dizzy now. I didn't want to get onto the elevator at all. I sat down in front of the doors.

The mothers were still talking about the girl's trips to the 72nd floor. They said, "She loves to go up there because there's a toy store up there."

I thought, Wow! If there's a toy store on the 72nd floor, I might like to go up there!

I looked over to the girl now. She was laying on her back, with her knees up in the air. I could see her crotch. I was turned on. So I quickly looked away.

The daughter suddenly became interested in me. She started wriggling her way toward me, staying in a kind of seated position on the floor. The mothers could also see that I was attracted to the girl. I tried to look away from the girl, tying to keep my attraction to her inconspicuous. But since the girl was obviously coming over to me, I wasn't going to ignore her. I would talk with her or play with her. Whatever she wanted to do.

The girl was, in fact, talking to me, maybe even about the toy store. But even though she was talking, kind of innocently, as she got very close to me, she spread her legs entirely. She lifted up her crotch and pointed it straight at me. I was now really attracted to the girl.

This building was a hotel. I wanted to take the girl into the elevator and up to my room right away. But as I kept looking at the girl, with her legs spread and crotch lifted up at me, I thought I might like to just lay down on top of her right now. I may have tried to figure out if there was a way I could do that without making the mothers think I was attracted to the girl.

Dream 4

I was out walking along a large street. It was a residential street, but it felt really big, like some of the streets on the crest of steep hills in San Francisco. But I probably thought I was "home," i.e. in Denver. The sky was a deep, electric blue. The houses themselves, possibly all row houses or apartments, had beige walls. But the beige was also a deep tan color, like the sunlight was soaking deep into everything and turning it into a much deeper, more electric color.

I was walking in one direction (either east or west). I knew I was heading away from downtown, likely away from downtown Denver. But in the distance I saw an enormous building with a cupola, like the Capitol building.

I knew the building couldn't be the Capitol. I was heading in the opposite direction. But I couldn't figure out what other building it could be. I was a bit worried and confused at first. How could I be seeing something I was supposed to be headed away from? But my mind was a little more at ease when I told myself the building simply couldn't be the Capitol.

The building was off in the distance, behind blocks and blocks of row houses or apartment buildings. But it was gigantic enough, still, to loom over all of them. The building was made of stone, like massy, muted stone. But it was blue, not grey. That was very interesting to me. Also, the dome, instead of being gold, was some strange kind of iridescent purple. It was so strange. I really wanted to see it up close!

I may have started telling myself that that building was in a different town, maybe even Austin, Texas. I may have told myself that I was actually walking into another town.

Some kids may have crossed the enormous street. They were a big school group, probably of early elementary school kids. They may all or mostly have been Hispanic. I had continued walking forward, so by the time they and their teachers had crossed the big street, they were walking behind me.

As we approached another intersection, I heard the kids speaking, either in Spanish, Japanese, or both Spanish and Japanese. I may have responded to something they'd said in Japanese as I'd passed them as they were still crossing the big street. They may have been impressed that I'd understood them. So they started talking about me, only indirectly, kind of curious whether I could still understand them.

As we crossed the intersection (the road we crossed was small, like a neighborhood road, not like the huge road on our right), I thought I'd say something to the kids to prove I could speak Japanese. I searched my mind for something to say. It was hard to figure out the words.

Then I turned around as I approached the opposite curb. I continued walking, though backwards, so I could keep facing the kids. As I started speaking, I noticed that my mouth was full of food. This would make it hard for me to speak and hard for the kids to understand me.

I said, "Genki desu ka?" The kids may have acknowledged me a little.

As I turned around and started walking forward again, one of the kids said, in English, "That means, 'I am very well.'"

I was pretty sure that that wasn't what I had said. But at least I had somewhat proven to the kids that I could speak their language.

In the distance, and down a slope that we had now approached, I saw a big, obelisk-like monument. It was in a small patch of drying, dead lawn that was bordered by a heavy, grey, stone fence. I felt like the big monument might have something to do with the gigantic, purple-domed building in the distance. So I really, really wanted to see it. It would help me figure out where I really was.

Suddenly I was flying over the road and down toward the monument. Some of the kids remarked in English that I should keep on flying and get to the monument quicker because it was a really interesting spot.

I flew over the plot of land that the monument was in. An old woman was out walking two animals, possibly a dog and a sheep. I was trying to land. But it seemed like anyway I would land would basically lead to me landing on and killing the sheep.

There were some other people near the monument -- maybe residents and some tourists. At least one woman remarked on my difficult situation. She could tell that I didn't want to kill the sheep. Yet she could see that if I landed, I'd likely kill the sheep and make it look like I had meant to do so.

I floated up and over toward the monument. I was in some weird state right now -- not quite landing, but no longer really able to fly. But I also had a hard time directing my motion at all. I could tell there was some sort of plaque, either on the monument or on a staircase leading up to the monument. I was trying to get to the plaque so I could read it and figure out where I was.

I may eventually have bobbed and floated my way over to the plaque, wherever it was. But I was still so bad at guiding myself that I was just facing away from the plaque! I couldn't turn myself around so I could actually read it!

I may possibly at this point have been carried away, as if by a gust of wind, toward the gigantic, purple-domed building. I may have resigned myself to my condition by now. I figured I'd learn where I really was soon enough. I may still have thought I was in Austin. But I may also have thought I was in some Mexican or Latin American city.

At some point I may have seen the huge building again, as if I were floating in the sky above it, though it was still in the distance. But I may have seen above it an image of a gigantic puff of popcorn and a gigantic image of one of the Jeff Koons balloon animal sculptures.

stalkers and john malkovich; a lesbian duck?; the greatest of all time; afraid of love

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was probably in a huge pickup truck that my mom was driving. We'd come from out in the country, and we were driving through rolling fields of grass.

I don't know what we'd been doing out in the country. But my mom was now telling me how she used to take my nephews out to this area with their sheep -- apparently the family used to own sheep. The family would actually take cows and sheep down to this area. The cows were sold as food.

The sheep actually carried the cows on their backs. I saw in my mind's eye how this was done. A cow would be cut open and have its guts hollowed out. Then the empty carcass of the cow was sat over the sheep's back, so that it looked like the sheep was giving the cow a ride. It would have looked playful, had the cow not been all bloody.

Something about the sheep was also sold, but I don't know what. The main thing my mom spoke about regarding the sheep was how my family had gotten the sheep to eat so well. The sheep must originally have had a hard time grazing while they were out in the country. But my family got the sheep trained to eat out on the rolling pastures, and to eat the grass in such an orderly way that they'd create huge, even, smooth-lined squares of eaten grass.

I had been noticing a big, green pickup truck following our truck for some time. I could see the guy in the truck: he was a young, blonde man who looked like he lived in my apartment complex. I told my mom that that man had been set on me to follow me in the past. He had now been set on following me again today.

Somehow the green pickup truck got in front of us. There were three big, white semi-trucks in front of us. The green pickup wedged itself in between the second and third semis. So there were two trucks in front of the pickup, one truck behind it, and then my mom's pickup.

I told my mom, "Now watch. The truck didn't mean to get in front of us. But now that it did, it will find the perfect opportunity to get back behind us. It's been following me all day today. I have people following me all the time."

Without my noticing it my mom and I shifted into a public bus. We sat side by side in a seat. The bus was relatively empty. The daylight in the bus seemed a bit brighter and whiter than usual. The light inside the bus may actually have been bright and white.

I told my mom, "The same thing used to happen in Brooklyn. People used get set on me, to follow me around. It's just a different set of people. Out here in Denver they have a group of blonde haired, blue eyed guys following me around. People set these kids on me, to follow me wherever I go."

Suddenly some guy sitting in front of us looked back. He was sitting in some weird way, either like he was in a sideways seat, or like he was crouched on the floor, facing so that his right profile faced me and my mom.

But now that he looked straight at us, I could see that he was John Malkovich. But he was all done up in camouflage. He wore a mainly white, tan, and brown camo design on his pants, shirt, and even on a woolen skullcap. He had the design painted onto his face and hands as well. His eyes were also bugging out, like he was insane.

John Malkovich asked me something about the stalkers. He then took one or both of my hands with both of his hands and began stroking them while he made a weird kind of blowing "O" with his mouth. He started giving me some advice about the stalkers. But he then ran back to the back of the bus.

The back of the bus tiered up into a platform of seats. In the first row on that platform was an Hispanic man who looked drunk and passed out. Malkovich sat beside that guy and started almost cuddling his head against him. He then began telling the man about me, like Malkovich was actually a stalker himself, and like he was passing off information to the man, who was only pretending to be drunk and passed out.

Malkovich then ran back to me and started telling me things about stalkers. It all sounded kind of crazy, and I don't remember any of it.

Dream #2

A woman had been taking care of a white swan, which I probably called a duck in my dream. The woman was a really beautiful, copper skinned woman with dark black hair. At first when the woman had cared for the duck, the duck would always bite the woman. The duck may have bit the woman all over her body, but I think one place the duck always bit the woman was on the mouth. It would hurt really bad. The woman even got to a point where she wanted to kill or get rid of the duck.

But then the woman taught the duck how to read and write. The duck had apparently been biting the woman because she didn't know how to communicate with the woman. But now that she could read and write, her life was a lot more open and free and a lot more frustrating.

The duck was now writing something on a pad of paper and showing it to my view, as if my view were actually a camera filming some kind of documentary. The view may have been set in a small bathroom, where the duck and the woman were standing close together. The duck may have been up on some kind of pedestal, so that her head was even with the woman's head.

The writing pad said something about how grateful the duck was to the woman, and how the duck would show her gratitude to the woman by giving her a kiss. So the duck stretched out her neck and "kissed" the woman by biting her softly on the upper lip.

This shocked the woman. It hurt her a little bit, though not as much as the previous bites had hurt. But the woman started to wonder whether the duck was getting violent again. She had given only a soft bite this time. But what if the bites got harder and harder? The woman would be in pain all over again.

My view panned down toward the bottom of the duck, then down toward the top section of the pedestal, where it kind of halted, just looking at the blank space of the pedestal. I was a little worried, as well, about the sudden biting of the duck. But I also considered the fact that the duck had "kissed" the woman. What it the kisses between the duck and the woman got more passionate? Would the duck and the woman eventually become lesbian lovers?

Dream #3

I was at some job which was like a mix of my most recent job with the duties of a lot of my past jobs. I had been set on some task. But I was wearing really dirty clothes. I may also have been wearing women's clothes, maybe even just women's lingerie. I really needed to change my clothes before I got to work on my task.

So I walked into the living room of some townhome or ground level apartment unit. The living room was small and well furnished, but also cluttered with a bunch of neglected belongings. I had a backpack full of clothes.

I began trying to pull clothes out of the backpack. But every time I began to pull something out, I'd hesitate. I had pairs of men's underwear, but they all seemed to be dirty and sour in really gross ways. Some may even have been hard with filth. I had a bad feeling I'd just have to wear one of these pairs of dirty underwear. I'd hope nobody would smell or see or notice in some other way how disgusting my underwear was.

My emotions or focus shifted, and suddenly I was just getting ready to walk out the door, like I was fully dressed and ready to go. I slung my backpack over my right shoulder. As I headed toward the door, opened it, and looked down at some turned-off lamp on an end table next to the door, I had some conversation in my head.

The conversation seemed to be partly me talking to myself about a conversation and partly the actual conversation, which involved a group of people who studied mysticism with Carlos Castaneda. These people were saying that Castaneda was the greatest magician of all time. But that qualification would get mixed up with saying that Castaneda was the greatest Research Analyst of all time. And that statement would get mixed up with my co-workers saying that I was the greatest Research Analyst of all time.

Dream #4

I was looking at a catalog that was kind of done up like a porn magazine. But it was really something like a monthly who's who of sex and fetish in every state in the United States. The pages were a brick red kind of color, and there were grids of photos on each page. Most of the photos showed attractive women wearing lingerie or bikinis. The women were usually sitting, but in very seductive poses. Below each photo was a description of the woman and her particular fetish. At the top of each page was yellow, script-like writing in a kind of "California cool" style.

I flipped to the Colorado section, hoping to find a woman who would be into transvestites or adult babies. But, for some reason, the more I looked through the Colorado section, the more afraid I got. I felt some sense of danger regarding the women. I can't remember what the sense of danger came from. I may have seen or thought that some of the women were actually men dressed as women.

But there was something else I was afraid of -- like contacting any of these women would lead either to my personal information being stolen, or to scandalous information about me being shared on a wide scale. I even began to feel like just looking at the pictures of the women and men would somehow "transmit" my information to whatever place was ready to hurt me.

I quickly flipped to some other section of the catalog. I think I allowed myself to feel attracted to the girls in this section of the catalog. But I think that after a moment, I may have become bored with the catalog and put it away.