Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was at a job interview. It was supposed to be a professional place, but it looked more like the backstage area of a theater. It seemed to be full of worktables and cluttered everywhere with colored fabrics and trinkets. There was one little office where my interviewer, MH, sat. The room was buried within the clutter of the rest of the place.
MH had decided that he wouldn't be able to hire me. He seemed to be disappointed in my interview. I walked away from the office, rather disappointed in myself and depressed. But only a few seconds later (though it may have felt, in some way, like it was a day or two later), MH walked out and implied that he would like to hire me after all.
MH set up some kind of desk space for me on one of the work tables by clearing off some of the piles of colored fabrics and laying down a laptop. MH hadn't quite told me he'd like me to work for him. Instead, he told me something like he needed me to stick around for a while. He said he needed some kind of data entered into a system before some event occurred, like the visit of some clients. He was just asking me if I could do this project as a favor to him. But I understood that if I did this project well, I'd probably stick around for even longer.
A couple other guys now started filtering into the room. They looked young, like recent college graduates. One of them seemed to be dressed in business casual clothes. But at least one other guy was dressed in a strange, but somewhat fashionable way. One of these guys was very short and pale. He had slightly shaggy, black hair. He wore pale, greyish jeans and a pale, greyish, denim jacket. Something else about his attire looked very clunky an 1980s-style.
The young men, when they saw me, seemed to be jealous of me, wondering whether I wasn't here to take away their jobs. I tried to make a point, apparently through my body language, that I was here to do a completely different job, not to take anybody's job.
To prove this, at one point, I stood up right when the grey denim boy was walking past me. I may have been planning to show him something. Instead, the young man became a little frightened of me and began walking backwards as I walked forward. But somehow we began talking, and eventually we were talking either about something we both liked (like some kind of art) or about some kind of project I'd now volunteered to help the grey denim boy with.
I may have been a little worried, now, about helping the grey denim boy with a project. It seemed like he was kind of weird. I didn't know if everybody else would think I was weird for helping this boy with something. But then I realized that most everybody else here also dressed weird. So nobody would think anything about it.
The grey denim boy and I had cleared off some of the clutter of colored fabrics from a work table. There was now a whole cookie sheet of sweet-looking desserts. The desserts were like scone-sized globs of maple, pecans, and sugar, all clumped and crystallized together. There wasn't any crust or pastry or anything attached to these sugary globs.
The whole team of workers was now, apparently, gathering together to have some kind of a team meal and meeting. We gathered at a table in the center of the room. There were little spaces cleared out for each of us, so we could sit down our meals, or desserts, and our laptops. But the clutter was so high that we couldn't see around it to the other people sitting at the table with us.
The meeting never seemed to start or finish. Instead, people seemed to take forever to sit down, and then they'd stand right back up and walk away. I sat at my space, waiting for instructions or something. I thought about eating my dessert. But I felt bad about doing so. I knew that eating too much during the day would make my body act weird. I was trying to figure whether I could somehow work eating the dessert into a schedule that would be okay for my body.
Dream #2
I was in an elevator with an older man. The man was white, stood tall, wore a nice business suit, and had fine, white hair. The elevator we were in was going straight up at first. But then it began going upward and forward, diagonally, like we were traveling in an elevator car, but along the tracks of an escalator.
We were, I knew, going up to the 23rd (or 28th?) floor. I knew that my youngest nephew had just been admitted to the hospital. He was sick, possibly with a pulmonary illness. The old man and I were coming to visit my nephew. I believe that we understood, at this point, that nobody else in the family knew about my nephew's condition, including my sister and my mom, who lived with and took care of my nephew.
The doctors wanted to give my nephew some medication. But the doctors didn't know what medication to give him. They apparently couldn't get a hold of my sister or mother, so they called me. The old man and I were now standing just outside the hospital.
I got the message from the doctors via text on my phone. I didn't know how to respond to it. I thought that before I responded to anything, it would be a good idea to try and get a hold of my mother and sister. After some trying, I may have gotten a hold of my mother and sister.
In fact, my sister may now have been sitting near me, on some brick ledge surrounding a raised planting area that held some small trees and shrubs. I may have tried to make a point to my sister that I hadn't been trying to control her life or her son's life by engaging in a conversation with the doctors.
I "said" (or just "felt to" my sister) that the doctors had contacted me, and that I was surprised they'd done so. I "said" that I had only been planning to respond to the doctors because I hadn't been able to get a hold of my sister or mom. I thought that if I couldn't get a hold of anybody, I'd have to respond. The situation seemed too important. It seemed like someone needed to make a decision sooner rather than later, to make sure my nephew was taken care of.
Dream #3
I was looking at a book of sculptures by Japanese artists. The artists all had a style very much like the style for which Takashi Murakami is famous: plastic-looking, cartoon-themed, and visually bubbly and complex. But a lot of the artists didn't color their works. The works would largely be all white.
The book had photos of these sculptures in stores all over the world. Some of the stores may have been cleared out to become temporary exhibit spaces for larger collections of art works. Other stores may have carried on with their business, with just one large piece of sculpture placed in the middle of a store.
The final photo I looked at was of a store I think I recognized as The Disney Store in New York City -- even though it was nothing like The Disney Store. It looked more like a bookstore. There were bookshelves spaced widely apart. The store was kind of small. The walls were barn-red. The ceilings were high. In the center of this store stood a tall, white pedestal with a small, white sculpture of a bulging-headed, Mickey Mouse-like character.
Even though I was looking at a book, the picture began moving panning toward the side, as if I were watching a video on a TV or computer. I felt like I knew the view I had been looking at. But now that the view was shifting, I was feeling less and less familiar with it. The idea of what place I was looking at had only slowly been dawning on me. Now I was losing my focus on what I was looking at.
At the same time, two girls, maybe both Asian girls, began talking near me. One of the girls was my friend. The other girl was my friend's friend, though she may have been my friend as well. My friend and I may have been on some kind of trip together. My friend and her friend were now talking about the various attractions in whatever city we were visiting. (Oddly enough, we may have been standing in the same place that the photo in the book was showing.)
I needed to get back to the first view this moving photo had shown. I put my finger down on the paper and swiped my finger over to the left. The photo, which had been panning off to the right, now moved left (I think). It now reached the original spot. This view looked mostly like the original view, even though I think there were some changes to the view that looked a little uncanny and frustrating to me.
I suddenly called out to the two girls, "Look! It's the Disney Store in New York! I can recognize it!" The girls may have looked at the photo for a moment, not really paying attention to what I was saying. Then they may have looked away. I had felt like it was really important for me to show that I knew the view. I was trying to prove to the girls that I had lived in New York, and that I knew the sights of New York. I was starting to think that nobody really believed anymore that I had ever lived in New York.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
wearing diapers at job
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was at "my office," which was dim and looked kind of cluttered. I walked into one office. My boss was sitting at the desk.
I suddenly realized I was wearing only diapers, probably Pampers Baby Dry diapers. My boss looked at me kind of weird, but he didn't say anything.
A little while later I was in a room with three other guys. They were all young and sporty business men. I wondered what they'd think of me, if they'd look down on me, once they saw I was wearing baby diapers. But they didn't say anything.
I knew I needed to change, or at least wear some clothes over my diapers. I was now standing in front of a mirror. I looked at myself in the mirror. I could see my skinny body. I thought I looked good in the diapers.
I thought that at least my diapers were clean and dry: I hadn't wet them yet. But I thought that I might actually like to wet my diapers. It would, I thought, feel good and look good. I'd feel kind of sexy like that.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
the exploding wall
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was night. My viewpoint was from out on a street, looking up toward the third or fourth floor of a concrete building. The wall had blown out in a small section of the building, revealing a room that looked like a private bath or sauna. The rest of the outside of the building was bathed in an amber glow, like a fire was burning somewhere across the street.
The view now drifted upward, so I could see a few people standing in the hole gaping in the wall. The light was out in the room, so that everything was illuminated only by the amber glow. A couple of the people standing near the hole were stereotypical detectives in khaki trench coats and fedoras. In the center of the detectives stood a sexy, but kind of old, woman with platinum blonde hair, tan, but weathered, skin, and wearing a black mini-dress.
It was now understood that the woman worked for some kind of service that employed beautiful women. The manager of these women had been an aging, overweight, bald man. When the wall had exploded, the man had fallen to his death. He may have been wearing only a tank top and boxers at the time.
The detectives asked something like, had this ever happened before? The woman said that nothing like this had ever happened before. Apparently this place was something like a bath house or sauna house, with room after room of private baths and saunas. The woman said that bad or weird things had happened in the rooms. For instance, people had been found sick and dead in the rooms.
Also, the woman said, people had been discovered having "weird sex" in the rooms. This conjured up an image in my mind of two women having sex by scissoring in a kind of sitting position, with each woman having one of her legs in a regular downward position, with her feet on the floor, and the other leg high up in the air.
The woman and the detectives were now walking back down through the hallway between the rooms. The light in the hallway was dim and amber as well, like it also was lit only by whatever light was burning out on the street.
Dream #1
It was night. My viewpoint was from out on a street, looking up toward the third or fourth floor of a concrete building. The wall had blown out in a small section of the building, revealing a room that looked like a private bath or sauna. The rest of the outside of the building was bathed in an amber glow, like a fire was burning somewhere across the street.
The view now drifted upward, so I could see a few people standing in the hole gaping in the wall. The light was out in the room, so that everything was illuminated only by the amber glow. A couple of the people standing near the hole were stereotypical detectives in khaki trench coats and fedoras. In the center of the detectives stood a sexy, but kind of old, woman with platinum blonde hair, tan, but weathered, skin, and wearing a black mini-dress.
It was now understood that the woman worked for some kind of service that employed beautiful women. The manager of these women had been an aging, overweight, bald man. When the wall had exploded, the man had fallen to his death. He may have been wearing only a tank top and boxers at the time.
The detectives asked something like, had this ever happened before? The woman said that nothing like this had ever happened before. Apparently this place was something like a bath house or sauna house, with room after room of private baths and saunas. The woman said that bad or weird things had happened in the rooms. For instance, people had been found sick and dead in the rooms.
Also, the woman said, people had been discovered having "weird sex" in the rooms. This conjured up an image in my mind of two women having sex by scissoring in a kind of sitting position, with each woman having one of her legs in a regular downward position, with her feet on the floor, and the other leg high up in the air.
The woman and the detectives were now walking back down through the hallway between the rooms. The light in the hallway was dim and amber as well, like it also was lit only by whatever light was burning out on the street.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
kicked out of apartment; glorified junk mail
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a boarding house full of rented rooms. The building was built on the same kind of plan as a brownstone, but it was a lot bigger. The walls, floor, and stairs were all made out of old, but well-kept and polished wood.
The place was packed full of rented rooms. The rooms were all so crammed together that many of them didn't even feel divided from each other. The rooms themselves also appeared to be a mess, with crooked walls, bunk beds in disarray, and clutter everywhere.
I lived in one of these rooms. But at the moment I was on the ground floor, speaking with a couple of people who acted as superintendents or supervisors for the operations here. They were both young men, tall, white, kind of muscular, with shaggy hair, and wearing t-shirts and jeans.
The young men told me that I had to leave the building. I got the sense that the men themselves didn't like me, and that they had gotten permission from their manager to kick me out of the building. But the excuse the young men were giving me was that since I had "brown skin," the rest of the guys in the building, who were white, didn't like me and were planning to cause trouble for me. The two young men suggested that my neighbors might even break into my room and take my stuff, just because they didn't like me. I was told that I had to leave the building by the end of the day, if not sooner.
I didn't think it was right that I had to leave my building just because I wasn't white. But I didn't see how I could argue against the young men. It seemed like, even though they didn't like me, they were thinking about my safety. So I prepared to leave. Somehow my room was now the same room that I had been in with the two young men. It now just looked like a bedroom, my bedroom, with all my belongings in it.
As I was preparing to leave, I started hearing a conversation with a lawyer in my head. The lawyer was telling me that I was protected, and that if I wanted to sue this building for kicking me out based on my race, I definitely could. I thought that I probably would sue the building. I took a little bit of pleasure in this thought. The two young men had thought they were really pulling one over on me by kicking me out and making an excuse for doing so. But now I had the ability to get back at them.
I had been doing something like folding clothes or blankets at my bed. Now I was standing at a table that was full of clutter, trying to sort through it all. A lot of the clutter may have been cigarette packs.
One of the young men came into the room. He said he was leaving for the evening. It was 5 PM (even though it looked black as night outside -- though I don't know how I knew this). I told the young man that I was still working on packing. He was already walking out of the room and down the hallway.
I called after the young man, telling him that I'd do my best to be out of here in two hours. The young man replied, in a kind of pitying tone, like he was sorry for what I'd been put through, that I could take as long as I wanted to get out of the place. I could tell that the young man meant I could even stay here overnight.
I wondered why the young man was feeling so sorry all of the sudden. I figured that he had already been contacted by my lawyer. In that case, the young man now knew that he and the other management people in the building were in trouble. The young man would then be trying to make up for his part in the acts against me by giving me extra time, maybe even indefinite time, in the building. But I also had the idea that maybe he'd realized what he'd done and that he now truly felt sorry for it.
Dream #2
I was outside my apartment building, heading to get my mail. The mail was in big boxes that were stacked high and wide on metal poles that stood about waist-high. I went to my box. The box, it seemed had been left unlocked. It was open just a tiny bit. I was worried that someone had gotten into my mail.
I opened my box and pulled out my mail, expecting to see a copy of a weekly newspaper I receive, the Denver Business Journal. The newspaper wasn't there. But there was a big, hefty envelope of documentation. I pulled the envelope out of my mailbox.
I walked around the large unit of mailboxes clockwise, looking at the package. I thought it must have been special, and that I must have been special for receiving it: it was hefty, full of documentation, and labeled with a very official looking U.S. Postal Service label.
But somehow, seeing into other people's mailboxes, I saw the same kind of envelope. I understood that everybody, actually, had received an envelope like this. Far from being special, this envelope really wasn't anything other than glorified junk mail.
Dream #1
I was in a boarding house full of rented rooms. The building was built on the same kind of plan as a brownstone, but it was a lot bigger. The walls, floor, and stairs were all made out of old, but well-kept and polished wood.
The place was packed full of rented rooms. The rooms were all so crammed together that many of them didn't even feel divided from each other. The rooms themselves also appeared to be a mess, with crooked walls, bunk beds in disarray, and clutter everywhere.
I lived in one of these rooms. But at the moment I was on the ground floor, speaking with a couple of people who acted as superintendents or supervisors for the operations here. They were both young men, tall, white, kind of muscular, with shaggy hair, and wearing t-shirts and jeans.
The young men told me that I had to leave the building. I got the sense that the men themselves didn't like me, and that they had gotten permission from their manager to kick me out of the building. But the excuse the young men were giving me was that since I had "brown skin," the rest of the guys in the building, who were white, didn't like me and were planning to cause trouble for me. The two young men suggested that my neighbors might even break into my room and take my stuff, just because they didn't like me. I was told that I had to leave the building by the end of the day, if not sooner.
I didn't think it was right that I had to leave my building just because I wasn't white. But I didn't see how I could argue against the young men. It seemed like, even though they didn't like me, they were thinking about my safety. So I prepared to leave. Somehow my room was now the same room that I had been in with the two young men. It now just looked like a bedroom, my bedroom, with all my belongings in it.
As I was preparing to leave, I started hearing a conversation with a lawyer in my head. The lawyer was telling me that I was protected, and that if I wanted to sue this building for kicking me out based on my race, I definitely could. I thought that I probably would sue the building. I took a little bit of pleasure in this thought. The two young men had thought they were really pulling one over on me by kicking me out and making an excuse for doing so. But now I had the ability to get back at them.
I had been doing something like folding clothes or blankets at my bed. Now I was standing at a table that was full of clutter, trying to sort through it all. A lot of the clutter may have been cigarette packs.
One of the young men came into the room. He said he was leaving for the evening. It was 5 PM (even though it looked black as night outside -- though I don't know how I knew this). I told the young man that I was still working on packing. He was already walking out of the room and down the hallway.
I called after the young man, telling him that I'd do my best to be out of here in two hours. The young man replied, in a kind of pitying tone, like he was sorry for what I'd been put through, that I could take as long as I wanted to get out of the place. I could tell that the young man meant I could even stay here overnight.
I wondered why the young man was feeling so sorry all of the sudden. I figured that he had already been contacted by my lawyer. In that case, the young man now knew that he and the other management people in the building were in trouble. The young man would then be trying to make up for his part in the acts against me by giving me extra time, maybe even indefinite time, in the building. But I also had the idea that maybe he'd realized what he'd done and that he now truly felt sorry for it.
Dream #2
I was outside my apartment building, heading to get my mail. The mail was in big boxes that were stacked high and wide on metal poles that stood about waist-high. I went to my box. The box, it seemed had been left unlocked. It was open just a tiny bit. I was worried that someone had gotten into my mail.
I opened my box and pulled out my mail, expecting to see a copy of a weekly newspaper I receive, the Denver Business Journal. The newspaper wasn't there. But there was a big, hefty envelope of documentation. I pulled the envelope out of my mailbox.
I walked around the large unit of mailboxes clockwise, looking at the package. I thought it must have been special, and that I must have been special for receiving it: it was hefty, full of documentation, and labeled with a very official looking U.S. Postal Service label.
But somehow, seeing into other people's mailboxes, I saw the same kind of envelope. I understood that everybody, actually, had received an envelope like this. Far from being special, this envelope really wasn't anything other than glorified junk mail.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
depression elevator; "child" applebee's; nuclear theater; spinach jar; child in bedroom
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
dirt lot buildings; flying through grandmother's house
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was night. I had walked a distance and now found myself in a gigantic dirt lot. In the dirt lot there were a couple of tall, modern-looking office buildings. The lot was lit up, like there were powerful, stadium-style lights somewhere over the lot.
I may have had the feeling that I was supposed to head into one of these buildings. The building had glass walls all the way up. The walls may have been coated with a dark, reflective material. But now they seemed to be gleaming with pink neon light, like they were electrified.
For some reason I decided not to go into this building. It may have been due to some conversation I was hearing in my head involving my youngest nephew. I ended up on some slope near the building, so that I was eye to eye with about the mid level of the building. As I walked along the ridge of the slope, the building lost all of its light and just became a building of dark, reflective glass walls.
I now noticed another office building. This office building was made mostly of concrete, and it had a kind of weird shape. It seemed like stairwells connected through to the outdoors by open passageways. There were also a lot of overhangs in the building, like ledges. The ledges and passageways were all well lit by incandescent light.
My youngest nephew and a couple other people, probably family members, all sat in a circle under one of the ledges of the building. The group may have been playing a game. I sat down with a group, probably to have some kind of a conversation with them.
Dream #2
It was daytime. I was walking down the sidewalk, heading toward the house where my great grandmother used to live (my great grandmother died about three years ago in waking life). I was heading down to the house from the north. The house on the south side of my grandma's house seemed to be undergoing construction. There were some ruts and a lot of upturned soil in the front yard. I may also have seen, or at least heard, some construction equipment.
I knew that it was early in the afternoon, maybe around 2 PM. I was coming back to my grandma's house as if this was where I lived, or where I was staying for a little while. I didn't want the construction workers at my grandma's neighbor's house to see me heading toward the house. They'd see that I was out of work early, and they'd either look down on me because I'd had such a short shift at work or because I looked like I didn't have a job at all.
So I sneaked up into the house through the front door. The house was very dim, like heavy, brown-orange curtains were hung over all the windows. I had a feeling that my mom and sister were in the house, but that they were getting ready to leave. I wanted to avoid my mom and sister as well. I didn't want them to know I was home from work so early. I didn't want them to think I didn't have a job.
To move quickly through the house, I floated through the air. I had floated somewhere in the house where I wouldn't be seen. My sister left the house. Now only my mom was left. She was probably taking a shower. I floated around the house, heading into the kitchen, my grandma's guest room, and the dining room. I wasn't really focused with my flight. I didn't seem to be flying with any direction. I kept trying to fly down into the basement. But either I kept forgetting or kept getting afraid to go down there.
Eventually I had settled on the idea that I could leave the house, but that I needed to bring a few things with me. I went into my grandma's bedroom. On her desk there were a couple of paperback books and probably some items of clothing. I grabbed the books and maybe some of the items of clothing and I flew out of the room. I flew somewhere where I could dress or prepare without risking being seen.
I was just about to leave the house. But then I realized that I wasn't wearing any shoes. I'd need to get my shoes from my grandma's bedroom in order to leave the house. So I flew toward my grandma's bedroom to grab the shoes.
But just as I was getting to my grandma's bedroom, my mom turned off the shower. I knew she'd be leaving the bathroom soon. I didn't know how I could leave my grandma's bedroom while my mom left the bathroom without my being seen.
But somehow I managed to fly into the bathroom just as my mom was leaving it, so that her back was turned just as I was heading into the bathroom. But I was now stuck in the bathroom. I was either crouched on the floor or sitting on the toilet, holding my books and some clothes in my arms. My mom wasn't leaving the hallway in front of the bathroom. She just stood still right there, her back turned to the bathroom doorway, but right in front of it.
After a moment my mom turned around and walked back into the bathroom. This may possibly even have been because I had called her into the bathroom. Once my mom was back in the bathroom, I called attention to myself. My mom looked down at me, like I was sitting on the floor. I may have begun asking my mom some questions, possibly about what I needed to be prepared to leave the house.
Dream #1
It was night. I had walked a distance and now found myself in a gigantic dirt lot. In the dirt lot there were a couple of tall, modern-looking office buildings. The lot was lit up, like there were powerful, stadium-style lights somewhere over the lot.
I may have had the feeling that I was supposed to head into one of these buildings. The building had glass walls all the way up. The walls may have been coated with a dark, reflective material. But now they seemed to be gleaming with pink neon light, like they were electrified.
For some reason I decided not to go into this building. It may have been due to some conversation I was hearing in my head involving my youngest nephew. I ended up on some slope near the building, so that I was eye to eye with about the mid level of the building. As I walked along the ridge of the slope, the building lost all of its light and just became a building of dark, reflective glass walls.
I now noticed another office building. This office building was made mostly of concrete, and it had a kind of weird shape. It seemed like stairwells connected through to the outdoors by open passageways. There were also a lot of overhangs in the building, like ledges. The ledges and passageways were all well lit by incandescent light.
My youngest nephew and a couple other people, probably family members, all sat in a circle under one of the ledges of the building. The group may have been playing a game. I sat down with a group, probably to have some kind of a conversation with them.
Dream #2
It was daytime. I was walking down the sidewalk, heading toward the house where my great grandmother used to live (my great grandmother died about three years ago in waking life). I was heading down to the house from the north. The house on the south side of my grandma's house seemed to be undergoing construction. There were some ruts and a lot of upturned soil in the front yard. I may also have seen, or at least heard, some construction equipment.
I knew that it was early in the afternoon, maybe around 2 PM. I was coming back to my grandma's house as if this was where I lived, or where I was staying for a little while. I didn't want the construction workers at my grandma's neighbor's house to see me heading toward the house. They'd see that I was out of work early, and they'd either look down on me because I'd had such a short shift at work or because I looked like I didn't have a job at all.
So I sneaked up into the house through the front door. The house was very dim, like heavy, brown-orange curtains were hung over all the windows. I had a feeling that my mom and sister were in the house, but that they were getting ready to leave. I wanted to avoid my mom and sister as well. I didn't want them to know I was home from work so early. I didn't want them to think I didn't have a job.
To move quickly through the house, I floated through the air. I had floated somewhere in the house where I wouldn't be seen. My sister left the house. Now only my mom was left. She was probably taking a shower. I floated around the house, heading into the kitchen, my grandma's guest room, and the dining room. I wasn't really focused with my flight. I didn't seem to be flying with any direction. I kept trying to fly down into the basement. But either I kept forgetting or kept getting afraid to go down there.
Eventually I had settled on the idea that I could leave the house, but that I needed to bring a few things with me. I went into my grandma's bedroom. On her desk there were a couple of paperback books and probably some items of clothing. I grabbed the books and maybe some of the items of clothing and I flew out of the room. I flew somewhere where I could dress or prepare without risking being seen.
I was just about to leave the house. But then I realized that I wasn't wearing any shoes. I'd need to get my shoes from my grandma's bedroom in order to leave the house. So I flew toward my grandma's bedroom to grab the shoes.
But just as I was getting to my grandma's bedroom, my mom turned off the shower. I knew she'd be leaving the bathroom soon. I didn't know how I could leave my grandma's bedroom while my mom left the bathroom without my being seen.
But somehow I managed to fly into the bathroom just as my mom was leaving it, so that her back was turned just as I was heading into the bathroom. But I was now stuck in the bathroom. I was either crouched on the floor or sitting on the toilet, holding my books and some clothes in my arms. My mom wasn't leaving the hallway in front of the bathroom. She just stood still right there, her back turned to the bathroom doorway, but right in front of it.
After a moment my mom turned around and walked back into the bathroom. This may possibly even have been because I had called her into the bathroom. Once my mom was back in the bathroom, I called attention to myself. My mom looked down at me, like I was sitting on the floor. I may have begun asking my mom some questions, possibly about what I needed to be prepared to leave the house.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
stuffed animal neighbor; brother-in-law deals drugs; stars and stripes cafe; a load of crap
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was late afternoon, just after the sun had set. I was standing out in front of the house next door to my family's house. My brother-in-law and/or my nephew stood in the front yard, facing me while I faced the house. I was dressed very nicely, though the color of my clothes was kind of odd: pastel greens and forest greens, like one might see a little boy wearing on Easter Day.
I was having a kind of calm conversation with my brother-in-law. But then the neighbor came out of her house. She was a snoop, always getting into other people's business. She thought she had found a really good way to get my brother-in-law, and possibly me, in trouble. She may even have made a snide comment to that effect, to taunt me and my brother-in-law.
We did get a little afraid, and we headed back into the house. But I suddenly got mad. It didn't make any sense to me at all that this woman should have such power over us. I wanted to turn the tables on her, to show her that I was not afraid of her.
I went back over to the woman's house. I entered the house. I may have brought stuff with me. Suddenly the woman's house was filled with stuffed animals. Other members of my family came into the house as well. It was suddenly like we were all trying to overpower the woman, to get her out of the house.
At some point I may have gotten close to the woman and whispered things in her ear. The woman may then have turned into a stuffed animal.
Dream #2
I had just finished some kind of task successfully. I was now entering to some house that I had been asked to house-sit. It was like the house was part of a brownstone. The interior was long and narrow, almost like the interior of a clothing boutique. There may have been clothing racks along the walls.
There was a mannequin in the center of the shop. It was white and headless, and it wore an orange dress of slightly shimmery material with a blouse that had a wrapped effect with a sharply v-cut chest line. The mannequin really turned me on. I walked up to it and embraced it. I thought I was going to try to have sex with it. But I felt like someone was looking. I suddenly stopped embracing the mannequin.
My mom sat on a couple of stairs at the far end of the room. She began talking to me about something, maybe getting my sister and my brother-in-law to do something. She may have expressed doubt about this, like she thought my sister and brother-in-law were too lazy to do what my mom wanted them to do, or like she thought they were just a couple of cheats who'd try to cheat their way out of doing it.
While my mom spoke, I looked all over the store. All over the place, I saw stacks of my mother's clothing -- mostly panties. My mom is overweight, and her panties were kind of big. Nevertheless, as I saw her panties, I wanted to wear them. Some had nice colors: purple, blue, pink, with flowers and butterflies on them.
My mom had somehow tasked me with taking care of something regarding my sister and brother-in-law, as if she thought I could get them to stop doing whatever it was she thought they were doing.
Now I was suddenly outside, at night, at a big, new gas station that seemed to be alone on some desert highway. My brother-in-law stood out at a pump, filling up a white business van. I knew that my brother-in-law was actually out on some trip to sell drugs. He was about halfway to where he was going. Whenever he sold drugs, he would use this white van.
Suddenly my dad pulled up to the gas station. My brother-in-law obviously hadn't expected to see my dad while he was in the middle of making a drug run. He knew my dad was protective of my sister. Seeing my sister's husband in the middle of a drug run would obviously infuriate my dad.
My brother-in-law tried to hide what he was doing. But, for some reason, he had my family name (not his family name) and some phone number written in yellow paint on one of the back windows of the van. It was obvious, somehow, that this was an advertisement for selling drugs. But, as my brother-in-law saw my dad walking up to him, he tried to hide the advertisement, or obscure it in some way, to make it seem like it was an advertisement for some kind of service, like maintenance or something.
My dad walked up to my brother-in-law and seemed kind of friendly at first. My brother-in-law responded in a kind of friendly way. But then my dad said a couple of quick things to my brother in law, something along the lines of "How are you feeling? Do you feel good? Do you hurt in any way? Well, does this hurt you at all?" My dad kicked my brother-in-law in the stomach. He may also have shot my brother. Somehow, an umbrella (???) was also involved in the situation.
Dream #3
I was in a huge cafe, maybe something more like a big common area in a college that had been transformed for the evening into a makeshift coffee shop. The place was mostly dim, with just a few lights shining off in the distance. The place was full of young men and women, all sitting around with each other in big groups at tables, having a good time.
I may have been sitting off to one side all by myself at first. But a couple people ended up coming over to me. One was a girl. Another was a guy, probably a French guy. The girl eventually went away. The French guy, who had seemed hostile toward me at first, ended up being a lot nicer as time went on.
Now there was some kind of performance going on. The performance was some little song. I didn't realize until the end of the song that the French guy had been performing. I thought he'd just been sitting there beside me. But now the performance was ended. Everybody was clapping. I realized I needed to clap, too: otherwise, the French guy would get hostile toward me and not clap for me after my performance. The French guy smiled and folded up something into a leather satchel.
Now someone started playing the piano. From the opening, I recognized the song: "Stars and Stripes Forever," even though I couldn't name the song. The French guy, hearing the song, began to chuckle a little bit. I may have chuckled as well, thinking, for a talent show -- which apparently this whole thing was, now -- it was a little too obvious or trite to play such a well known song. But as the song continued, I kind of enjoyed the melody on the piano. The piano sound was kind of quick and tinny, very old-timey sounding.
Dream #4
I was standing looking at a wall. The wall was kind of barren. It may have been a cinder block wall. The wall was painted some flat, dark shade of green. There were a couple of old, decaying, wooden shelves high up on the wall, running the full length of the wall.
As I looked at the wall, I could hear my step-grandmother talking about one of her friends. Her friend, a male, was older than she and my grandfather, who passed away about four years ago. My grandma related a story to me about my grandpa and this friend. As she related the story to me, I started taking care of something, maybe taking a jacket off the shelf, shifting myself over to the left, and putting the jacket back on the shelf.
My grandma said that as my grandpa was dying, he told the friend, "You should be the one who's dying. You're older than me." But then something about the story changed. Now my grandma said that my grandpa had said something like, "I'm glad I'm the one who's dying, and not you. You have so many young people in your life. You need to make sure you stay around for them."
As my grandma told this second version of the story, I realized that I was defecating. A long string of pale-tan crap was coming out of my (apparently clothed) rear end. It wasn't breaking. By now it was at least a meter long -- so long, I could bend it around and hold it in front of me. In fact, I'd shifted to the far left end of the wall by now, and I was starting to place the long line of feces up onto the shelf. The feces may even have been topped with mustard!
I'm pretty sure that even as I was coiling up the mustard-topped feces onto the shelf and listening to my grandma's story about my grandpa, that I realized that the feces was a metaphor. I knew I was somehow defecating and putting the crap up onto the shelf to show that I thought the story I was listening to was a load of crap. I didn't, of course, want to admit that I thought the story was a load of crap, because it was about my grandpa. So I may have started trying to justify my defecation in some other way.
Dream #1
It was late afternoon, just after the sun had set. I was standing out in front of the house next door to my family's house. My brother-in-law and/or my nephew stood in the front yard, facing me while I faced the house. I was dressed very nicely, though the color of my clothes was kind of odd: pastel greens and forest greens, like one might see a little boy wearing on Easter Day.
I was having a kind of calm conversation with my brother-in-law. But then the neighbor came out of her house. She was a snoop, always getting into other people's business. She thought she had found a really good way to get my brother-in-law, and possibly me, in trouble. She may even have made a snide comment to that effect, to taunt me and my brother-in-law.
We did get a little afraid, and we headed back into the house. But I suddenly got mad. It didn't make any sense to me at all that this woman should have such power over us. I wanted to turn the tables on her, to show her that I was not afraid of her.
I went back over to the woman's house. I entered the house. I may have brought stuff with me. Suddenly the woman's house was filled with stuffed animals. Other members of my family came into the house as well. It was suddenly like we were all trying to overpower the woman, to get her out of the house.
At some point I may have gotten close to the woman and whispered things in her ear. The woman may then have turned into a stuffed animal.
Dream #2
I had just finished some kind of task successfully. I was now entering to some house that I had been asked to house-sit. It was like the house was part of a brownstone. The interior was long and narrow, almost like the interior of a clothing boutique. There may have been clothing racks along the walls.
There was a mannequin in the center of the shop. It was white and headless, and it wore an orange dress of slightly shimmery material with a blouse that had a wrapped effect with a sharply v-cut chest line. The mannequin really turned me on. I walked up to it and embraced it. I thought I was going to try to have sex with it. But I felt like someone was looking. I suddenly stopped embracing the mannequin.
My mom sat on a couple of stairs at the far end of the room. She began talking to me about something, maybe getting my sister and my brother-in-law to do something. She may have expressed doubt about this, like she thought my sister and brother-in-law were too lazy to do what my mom wanted them to do, or like she thought they were just a couple of cheats who'd try to cheat their way out of doing it.
While my mom spoke, I looked all over the store. All over the place, I saw stacks of my mother's clothing -- mostly panties. My mom is overweight, and her panties were kind of big. Nevertheless, as I saw her panties, I wanted to wear them. Some had nice colors: purple, blue, pink, with flowers and butterflies on them.
My mom had somehow tasked me with taking care of something regarding my sister and brother-in-law, as if she thought I could get them to stop doing whatever it was she thought they were doing.
Now I was suddenly outside, at night, at a big, new gas station that seemed to be alone on some desert highway. My brother-in-law stood out at a pump, filling up a white business van. I knew that my brother-in-law was actually out on some trip to sell drugs. He was about halfway to where he was going. Whenever he sold drugs, he would use this white van.
Suddenly my dad pulled up to the gas station. My brother-in-law obviously hadn't expected to see my dad while he was in the middle of making a drug run. He knew my dad was protective of my sister. Seeing my sister's husband in the middle of a drug run would obviously infuriate my dad.
My brother-in-law tried to hide what he was doing. But, for some reason, he had my family name (not his family name) and some phone number written in yellow paint on one of the back windows of the van. It was obvious, somehow, that this was an advertisement for selling drugs. But, as my brother-in-law saw my dad walking up to him, he tried to hide the advertisement, or obscure it in some way, to make it seem like it was an advertisement for some kind of service, like maintenance or something.
My dad walked up to my brother-in-law and seemed kind of friendly at first. My brother-in-law responded in a kind of friendly way. But then my dad said a couple of quick things to my brother in law, something along the lines of "How are you feeling? Do you feel good? Do you hurt in any way? Well, does this hurt you at all?" My dad kicked my brother-in-law in the stomach. He may also have shot my brother. Somehow, an umbrella (???) was also involved in the situation.
Dream #3
I was in a huge cafe, maybe something more like a big common area in a college that had been transformed for the evening into a makeshift coffee shop. The place was mostly dim, with just a few lights shining off in the distance. The place was full of young men and women, all sitting around with each other in big groups at tables, having a good time.
I may have been sitting off to one side all by myself at first. But a couple people ended up coming over to me. One was a girl. Another was a guy, probably a French guy. The girl eventually went away. The French guy, who had seemed hostile toward me at first, ended up being a lot nicer as time went on.
Now there was some kind of performance going on. The performance was some little song. I didn't realize until the end of the song that the French guy had been performing. I thought he'd just been sitting there beside me. But now the performance was ended. Everybody was clapping. I realized I needed to clap, too: otherwise, the French guy would get hostile toward me and not clap for me after my performance. The French guy smiled and folded up something into a leather satchel.
Now someone started playing the piano. From the opening, I recognized the song: "Stars and Stripes Forever," even though I couldn't name the song. The French guy, hearing the song, began to chuckle a little bit. I may have chuckled as well, thinking, for a talent show -- which apparently this whole thing was, now -- it was a little too obvious or trite to play such a well known song. But as the song continued, I kind of enjoyed the melody on the piano. The piano sound was kind of quick and tinny, very old-timey sounding.
Dream #4
I was standing looking at a wall. The wall was kind of barren. It may have been a cinder block wall. The wall was painted some flat, dark shade of green. There were a couple of old, decaying, wooden shelves high up on the wall, running the full length of the wall.
As I looked at the wall, I could hear my step-grandmother talking about one of her friends. Her friend, a male, was older than she and my grandfather, who passed away about four years ago. My grandma related a story to me about my grandpa and this friend. As she related the story to me, I started taking care of something, maybe taking a jacket off the shelf, shifting myself over to the left, and putting the jacket back on the shelf.
My grandma said that as my grandpa was dying, he told the friend, "You should be the one who's dying. You're older than me." But then something about the story changed. Now my grandma said that my grandpa had said something like, "I'm glad I'm the one who's dying, and not you. You have so many young people in your life. You need to make sure you stay around for them."
As my grandma told this second version of the story, I realized that I was defecating. A long string of pale-tan crap was coming out of my (apparently clothed) rear end. It wasn't breaking. By now it was at least a meter long -- so long, I could bend it around and hold it in front of me. In fact, I'd shifted to the far left end of the wall by now, and I was starting to place the long line of feces up onto the shelf. The feces may even have been topped with mustard!
I'm pretty sure that even as I was coiling up the mustard-topped feces onto the shelf and listening to my grandma's story about my grandpa, that I realized that the feces was a metaphor. I knew I was somehow defecating and putting the crap up onto the shelf to show that I thought the story I was listening to was a load of crap. I didn't, of course, want to admit that I thought the story was a load of crap, because it was about my grandpa. So I may have started trying to justify my defecation in some other way.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
punk 1; punk 2; macdonald and mcdonald's; didn't mean to hurt you; can't draw a face; fail/pass/fail
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a house, and then I was outside on a road in a suburban neighborhood. In the house, I was probably in my body. Outside the house my view may just have been floating, bodiless, along the road. The road bowed out to the right and then back to the left. One area of the road seemed to have a row of tall cypress trees.
All this time, I was making up and singing some punk-sounding song. The song sounded really original to me.
Dream #2
I was in a bedroom, standing over a bed. I was putting lifting up large paper cut-outs of action figures, mostly robot-like figures or armored figures, like Samus from Metroid. The paper cut-outs weren't actually put together. They were still flat, and I could still see the tabs sticking off of their bodies.
All this time, I was making up and singing some kind of song. I may have thought the song was punk-sounding. But it really wasn't.
Dream #3
I was at a fast food restaurant. The restaurant seemed a little bigger than normal, and it felt empty: either empty of people or empty of chairs and tables. The light coming in from the window walls was bright grey and somehow sterile, although the place also had a somewhat grimy feel to it.
I was reading a John D. MacDonald novel, either from a book or on my phone. The novel had the feel of Barrier Island and Condominium, though I'm pretty sure its subject was outside the field of real estate. I had reached a point in the novel where an over-assured man was planning to go get aggressive with another man who had put him in a compromising position.
Feeling the suspense of this moment I put down my book/mobile device and chuckled, "Whoa, no!" I knew already that, if this book followed the usual structure of a MacDonald novel, the man would get himself in trouble through his over-assuredness. Either he or the man he was out for would get killed, when all the man likely intended to do was cause a little scare and end the problem.
As I walked along and pondered this whole thing, I saw an older man sitting and eating. He looked to me just like a character I'd imagine out of a MacDonald novel: a little short, kind of dumpy, but tough-looking, probably well-off, and someone you wouldn't want to mess with in general.
I walked down a short hallway. There were probably bathroom doors on the right wall. At the end of the hallway I found myself in a coffee shop, possibly a Starbucks. I may already have placed my order, so that now I was just waiting for it.
The man at the cash register, a young, skinny, black man, handed me my coffee. Apparently I was waiting for something else. The young man gave me an easygoing assurance that my other item would be here in a moment.
In the meantime, I figured I'd fix my coffee. I took the lid off my coffee. I wanted to stir in some sugar, but I didn't have a spoon. I was going to reach for a spoon, but the young man planned to give me one instead. He was a couple meters away, doing something else. He spun around, away from me, still looking more concerned with the other thing he was doing, while he threw a white plastic spoon toward me from behind his back.
The spoon lilted steeply up into the air, then dashed lightly downward. It all took me by surprise, but I still reached out to grab the spoon. I had to stretch a bit to get at the spoon. I caught the spoon, but I managed to fumble it and let it drop to the floor.
I picked up the spoon. I didn't want to look like I was rejecting the young man's offer of the spoon. But I figured I'd just grab my own spoon, a clean one that hadn't touched the floor. I'd just look like I was using the spoon the young man had thrown to me. But I then figured that I didn't even want to use a spoon at all before washing my hands. I'd touched the floor in grabbing the spoon. So my hands were just as dirty, now, as the dirty spoon was.
Dream #4
I was in a bedroom with my ex-girlfriend H, sitting on the floor. H had a bunch of stuff all pulled out of paper shopping bags, like bags from really nice clothing boutiques. The stuff was strewn all over the floor in between us.
H was concerned with something, maybe with packing up so she could go on a trip somewhere. But she was making remarks that I thought were kind of stupid. I may also have felt offended by the remarks, like she was making them to make me feel bad about myself.
I got frustrated with H's remarks and said something that I thought would shock H into being reasonable. I then picked up one of the paper bags. The bag was full of items, mostly brightly colored bands of the same material as elastic-fabric hairbands, but really large, maybe 15cm in diameter.
I took the bands out of the bag and began arranging them on the floor. I then kept some of the arranged bands out and put others back in the bag. I then organized the rest of the materials that were inside the bag. The bag looked really well-organized now. I was pretty proud of myself, and I thought H would be impressed.
But when I looked back up at H, she had her face turned away from me. She held her hand in front of her face as well. I could tell that H was trying to hide the fact that she was crying. I felt really bad. I could tell that the remarks I'd made had sounded a lot meaner than I'd expected them to. I also knew that I'd made these kinds of remarks so many times before that H was finally getting sick of it, and of me. I had a feeling that H would finally stop liking me and would leave me.
Dream #5
I sat at a long table, like a table in an elementary school's cafeteria. Across the table from me sat a woman and two children, maybe a boy and a girl. The woman was drawing with the two children. Papers were scattered all over the table.
I was trying to draw the woman as she drew with the children. The woman was wearing a big, flat, black hat with a bit of a fishnet veil hanging down from it. It obscured most of her face. But I could still see enough of her cheeks and mouth to get an expression.
But when I looked down at my drawing, I was disappointed to see that I'd drawn the woman with far less of her face showing! There was almost no expression at all! I looked back up to the woman, thinking that I'd re-draw her, this time making sure I got all of the visible part of her face.
But when I looked back up at the woman, I noticed that she'd shifted her head so that very little of her face was visible from under the hat. I may have shifted my view a bit by leaning downward at a really odd angle. I may have seen more of the woman's face that way. But I knew I couldn't draw and hold my head at that weird angle. I had no idea how I was going to get a good view of the woman's face for my drawing.
Dream #6
I was walking toward a classroom. I was apparently taking a few classes like therapy classes. I was just about to graduate from one cycle of classes. But there was another cycle of classes that had preceded this one. I thought I had already graduated from that cycle. But I'd actually needed to complete one last class. Without completing this one last class, I wouldn't be considered as having passed the second cycle of classes once I'd completed it.
I was a little afraid, going into the last class of the first cycle. I had a feeling that somebody, maybe the teacher, wouldn't like me, and would try to find some way to fail me in the last class, so that I wouldn't pass the first cycle, and I wouldn't be considered as having passed the second cycle.
Dream #1
I was in a house, and then I was outside on a road in a suburban neighborhood. In the house, I was probably in my body. Outside the house my view may just have been floating, bodiless, along the road. The road bowed out to the right and then back to the left. One area of the road seemed to have a row of tall cypress trees.
All this time, I was making up and singing some punk-sounding song. The song sounded really original to me.
Dream #2
I was in a bedroom, standing over a bed. I was putting lifting up large paper cut-outs of action figures, mostly robot-like figures or armored figures, like Samus from Metroid. The paper cut-outs weren't actually put together. They were still flat, and I could still see the tabs sticking off of their bodies.
All this time, I was making up and singing some kind of song. I may have thought the song was punk-sounding. But it really wasn't.
Dream #3
I was at a fast food restaurant. The restaurant seemed a little bigger than normal, and it felt empty: either empty of people or empty of chairs and tables. The light coming in from the window walls was bright grey and somehow sterile, although the place also had a somewhat grimy feel to it.
I was reading a John D. MacDonald novel, either from a book or on my phone. The novel had the feel of Barrier Island and Condominium, though I'm pretty sure its subject was outside the field of real estate. I had reached a point in the novel where an over-assured man was planning to go get aggressive with another man who had put him in a compromising position.
Feeling the suspense of this moment I put down my book/mobile device and chuckled, "Whoa, no!" I knew already that, if this book followed the usual structure of a MacDonald novel, the man would get himself in trouble through his over-assuredness. Either he or the man he was out for would get killed, when all the man likely intended to do was cause a little scare and end the problem.
As I walked along and pondered this whole thing, I saw an older man sitting and eating. He looked to me just like a character I'd imagine out of a MacDonald novel: a little short, kind of dumpy, but tough-looking, probably well-off, and someone you wouldn't want to mess with in general.
I walked down a short hallway. There were probably bathroom doors on the right wall. At the end of the hallway I found myself in a coffee shop, possibly a Starbucks. I may already have placed my order, so that now I was just waiting for it.
The man at the cash register, a young, skinny, black man, handed me my coffee. Apparently I was waiting for something else. The young man gave me an easygoing assurance that my other item would be here in a moment.
In the meantime, I figured I'd fix my coffee. I took the lid off my coffee. I wanted to stir in some sugar, but I didn't have a spoon. I was going to reach for a spoon, but the young man planned to give me one instead. He was a couple meters away, doing something else. He spun around, away from me, still looking more concerned with the other thing he was doing, while he threw a white plastic spoon toward me from behind his back.
The spoon lilted steeply up into the air, then dashed lightly downward. It all took me by surprise, but I still reached out to grab the spoon. I had to stretch a bit to get at the spoon. I caught the spoon, but I managed to fumble it and let it drop to the floor.
I picked up the spoon. I didn't want to look like I was rejecting the young man's offer of the spoon. But I figured I'd just grab my own spoon, a clean one that hadn't touched the floor. I'd just look like I was using the spoon the young man had thrown to me. But I then figured that I didn't even want to use a spoon at all before washing my hands. I'd touched the floor in grabbing the spoon. So my hands were just as dirty, now, as the dirty spoon was.
Dream #4
I was in a bedroom with my ex-girlfriend H, sitting on the floor. H had a bunch of stuff all pulled out of paper shopping bags, like bags from really nice clothing boutiques. The stuff was strewn all over the floor in between us.
H was concerned with something, maybe with packing up so she could go on a trip somewhere. But she was making remarks that I thought were kind of stupid. I may also have felt offended by the remarks, like she was making them to make me feel bad about myself.
I got frustrated with H's remarks and said something that I thought would shock H into being reasonable. I then picked up one of the paper bags. The bag was full of items, mostly brightly colored bands of the same material as elastic-fabric hairbands, but really large, maybe 15cm in diameter.
I took the bands out of the bag and began arranging them on the floor. I then kept some of the arranged bands out and put others back in the bag. I then organized the rest of the materials that were inside the bag. The bag looked really well-organized now. I was pretty proud of myself, and I thought H would be impressed.
But when I looked back up at H, she had her face turned away from me. She held her hand in front of her face as well. I could tell that H was trying to hide the fact that she was crying. I felt really bad. I could tell that the remarks I'd made had sounded a lot meaner than I'd expected them to. I also knew that I'd made these kinds of remarks so many times before that H was finally getting sick of it, and of me. I had a feeling that H would finally stop liking me and would leave me.
Dream #5
I sat at a long table, like a table in an elementary school's cafeteria. Across the table from me sat a woman and two children, maybe a boy and a girl. The woman was drawing with the two children. Papers were scattered all over the table.
I was trying to draw the woman as she drew with the children. The woman was wearing a big, flat, black hat with a bit of a fishnet veil hanging down from it. It obscured most of her face. But I could still see enough of her cheeks and mouth to get an expression.
But when I looked down at my drawing, I was disappointed to see that I'd drawn the woman with far less of her face showing! There was almost no expression at all! I looked back up to the woman, thinking that I'd re-draw her, this time making sure I got all of the visible part of her face.
But when I looked back up at the woman, I noticed that she'd shifted her head so that very little of her face was visible from under the hat. I may have shifted my view a bit by leaning downward at a really odd angle. I may have seen more of the woman's face that way. But I knew I couldn't draw and hold my head at that weird angle. I had no idea how I was going to get a good view of the woman's face for my drawing.
Dream #6
I was walking toward a classroom. I was apparently taking a few classes like therapy classes. I was just about to graduate from one cycle of classes. But there was another cycle of classes that had preceded this one. I thought I had already graduated from that cycle. But I'd actually needed to complete one last class. Without completing this one last class, I wouldn't be considered as having passed the second cycle of classes once I'd completed it.
I was a little afraid, going into the last class of the first cycle. I had a feeling that somebody, maybe the teacher, wouldn't like me, and would try to find some way to fail me in the last class, so that I wouldn't pass the first cycle, and I wouldn't be considered as having passed the second cycle.
Friday, October 5, 2012
drawings prove i'm crazy; dancing with the stars; parking space; eagle/crow
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was sitting outside a building with a young, attractive woman with olive skin and long, brown hair. The area we sat in was kind of narrow and run down. The woman was something like a doctor or a psychologist. She had spoken with me a bit about some problems I had. These problems were highlighted by certain things I'd said to her.
Then we turned to a notebook full of drawings I'd made. These were all line drawings of sexual situations, many involving girls. The woman said that these drawings definitely indicated that I had problems I needed to deal with.
A third of the way through, the notebook became blank. The woman and I kept flipping through the blank pages. I was relieved that there were no other drawings that would make the woman think I was crazy. But toward the end of the notebook the drawings came back. And they were even more intensely sexual. The men in the drawings had extremely huge penises. I had a feeling I'd really be in trouble for these drawings.
Dream #2
I was in "my house," which was a nice, quaint, little suburban house. It was early in the evening. My house was lit with bright, pale incandescent light. I had some music turned on and I was dancing to it. I got so into the music that I danced out of my house and into the street. It may have seemed to me at this point that my whole house was floored with linoleum, like the floor of a kitchen. It may also have seemed to me that I was a woman with curlers in my hair -- even though I quickly became myself again.
I continued dancing in the middle of the street. The sky was colored red and purple, but it also had a dim, glassy, watery tinge of yellow to it. All down the block were houses like mine, packed pretty closely together.
I had the idea that this was some famous road in Hollywood, and that a lot of movie stars lived here. I couldn't figure out why movie stars would live in such small houses. But I came up with some justification for that. I also couldn't figure out why I was living among all these movie stars. But I wasn't going to worry about that. I was just going to keep dancing. If one of the movie stars saw me dancing, she might think I was a good enough performer to be put in a movie.
So I kept dancing. At one point, while I was dancing, I twisted my right leg around my left leg. I somehow got my legs jammed in that position. I couldn't untwist my right leg! I got a little panicked. But then I managed to untwist my leg. I worried for a little while whether people would think I was an incompetent dancer. But now I seemed to be dancing pretty well. But now I began to worry that maybe my dancing was really monotonous, so that people would think I wasn't a creative enough dancer to use in a movie.
All this time, to my right, there was some huge, metallic structure, like a military tank.
Dream #3
I was in a parking lot with my mom. The parking lot was kind of small. It was fenced off from the road. It may have served only one small building. My mom had parked in the last open space in the lot.
Now a woman who looked like Amy Poehler walked up to us. She said she had her car a block or so away, but that she wanted to park her car in here. It was like she was expecting my mom to move her car. But my mom wasn't going to move her car.
I felt bad at first, when I thought of how the woman would have to be parked at a distance from this place. But then I remembered that my mom was sick, and that she needed the space she parked in, while the woman was probably healthy enough to walk.
I told the woman that there was another parking lot for this building. I told her it was on 72nd and XXXXX. That was a few blocks away from here, I knew. It was down a long, tree-lined road, kind of nestled into a park-like area.
But, as a compromise, I told the woman that I would walk with her to her car and help her find the lot so she could park her car there. Then I'd walk back with the woman. I kind of felt inconvenienced. I knew this was going way out of my way. But I hoped it would appease the woman.
Dream #4
I was flying over some desert hills. I black crow flew down before me. But I think I thought the crow was an eagle. The crow/eagle flew to and fro in front of me. I had the idea that the crow wanted to be my friend. I held out my right hand to the crow, pointing my index finger out gently. The crow gently bit my index finger, then turned his head away from me, so that my finger brushed his head, like he was making me pet him.
I began descending. I may have been imagining telling two kind of overweight Mexican men about what I'd experienced. I'd thought I'd seen an eagle. But what kind of eagle was as small as a crow? How could such a small eagle impress the two men.
But now, as I was descending, the eagle/crow, descending with me, began to grow and grow. It soon transformed into an eagle.
Dream #1
I was sitting outside a building with a young, attractive woman with olive skin and long, brown hair. The area we sat in was kind of narrow and run down. The woman was something like a doctor or a psychologist. She had spoken with me a bit about some problems I had. These problems were highlighted by certain things I'd said to her.
Then we turned to a notebook full of drawings I'd made. These were all line drawings of sexual situations, many involving girls. The woman said that these drawings definitely indicated that I had problems I needed to deal with.
A third of the way through, the notebook became blank. The woman and I kept flipping through the blank pages. I was relieved that there were no other drawings that would make the woman think I was crazy. But toward the end of the notebook the drawings came back. And they were even more intensely sexual. The men in the drawings had extremely huge penises. I had a feeling I'd really be in trouble for these drawings.
Dream #2
I was in "my house," which was a nice, quaint, little suburban house. It was early in the evening. My house was lit with bright, pale incandescent light. I had some music turned on and I was dancing to it. I got so into the music that I danced out of my house and into the street. It may have seemed to me at this point that my whole house was floored with linoleum, like the floor of a kitchen. It may also have seemed to me that I was a woman with curlers in my hair -- even though I quickly became myself again.
I continued dancing in the middle of the street. The sky was colored red and purple, but it also had a dim, glassy, watery tinge of yellow to it. All down the block were houses like mine, packed pretty closely together.
I had the idea that this was some famous road in Hollywood, and that a lot of movie stars lived here. I couldn't figure out why movie stars would live in such small houses. But I came up with some justification for that. I also couldn't figure out why I was living among all these movie stars. But I wasn't going to worry about that. I was just going to keep dancing. If one of the movie stars saw me dancing, she might think I was a good enough performer to be put in a movie.
So I kept dancing. At one point, while I was dancing, I twisted my right leg around my left leg. I somehow got my legs jammed in that position. I couldn't untwist my right leg! I got a little panicked. But then I managed to untwist my leg. I worried for a little while whether people would think I was an incompetent dancer. But now I seemed to be dancing pretty well. But now I began to worry that maybe my dancing was really monotonous, so that people would think I wasn't a creative enough dancer to use in a movie.
All this time, to my right, there was some huge, metallic structure, like a military tank.
Dream #3
I was in a parking lot with my mom. The parking lot was kind of small. It was fenced off from the road. It may have served only one small building. My mom had parked in the last open space in the lot.
Now a woman who looked like Amy Poehler walked up to us. She said she had her car a block or so away, but that she wanted to park her car in here. It was like she was expecting my mom to move her car. But my mom wasn't going to move her car.
I felt bad at first, when I thought of how the woman would have to be parked at a distance from this place. But then I remembered that my mom was sick, and that she needed the space she parked in, while the woman was probably healthy enough to walk.
I told the woman that there was another parking lot for this building. I told her it was on 72nd and XXXXX. That was a few blocks away from here, I knew. It was down a long, tree-lined road, kind of nestled into a park-like area.
But, as a compromise, I told the woman that I would walk with her to her car and help her find the lot so she could park her car there. Then I'd walk back with the woman. I kind of felt inconvenienced. I knew this was going way out of my way. But I hoped it would appease the woman.
Dream #4
I was flying over some desert hills. I black crow flew down before me. But I think I thought the crow was an eagle. The crow/eagle flew to and fro in front of me. I had the idea that the crow wanted to be my friend. I held out my right hand to the crow, pointing my index finger out gently. The crow gently bit my index finger, then turned his head away from me, so that my finger brushed his head, like he was making me pet him.
I began descending. I may have been imagining telling two kind of overweight Mexican men about what I'd experienced. I'd thought I'd seen an eagle. But what kind of eagle was as small as a crow? How could such a small eagle impress the two men.
But now, as I was descending, the eagle/crow, descending with me, began to grow and grow. It soon transformed into an eagle.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
radiation suits; lost and found and niece
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was out in some suburban neighborhood during the day. My view was really low, as if I were kneeling or seeing from a child's point of view. A group of men stood over me. They were all dressed in cream-white, plastic or latex outfits that went over their whole bodies, including their heads, kind of like radiation suits. The faces seemed to have green, plastic rings where the mouths would be. The rest of the headpieces kind of wrinkled around the heads. The men may all have been heading to one specific house.
Dream #2
I was probably at work, in the back area of some store. The store actually seemed to have two back areas. One was a stocking area for products that would be pulled and given directly to the customers. Then there was an area behind that. At first I was in the area behind this stocking area. I'm not sure what the area was or what I was doing there.
I may have heard an old woman, who worked as a customer clerk in the front area, speaking to a young woman about a lost item, which the older woman had in the stocking area. The older woman gave the young woman the lost item. But the young woman was still in the stocking area.
I now realized that the older woman still had two lost items. They were both with her up in the front area. I thought these items might have belonged to the young woman. So I walked into the stocking area and found the young woman.
As we stood looking at the thin, backless shelves, I told the woman, "That older woman has two more missing items up in the front area with her. They're both bags. I didn't know if you were missing two bags. But I thought I might let you know, just in case you were missing them and the old woman had let you think she'd given you everything she had."
The young woman didn't respond. I thought that maybe the bags weren't the young woman's. Now the older woman walked back into the stocking area to get some sales items. She somehow made it known to me that she knew I was telling the young woman about the other missing items. My actions obviously meant I was second-guessing the older woman's actions. This could, I knew, make the older woman angry with me. And since the older woman held a senior position to me in this company, it also meant she could fire me.
I left the store, possibly obeying some command the older woman had given me. I was now out in a huge parking lot. My family was there. Either I was or they were getting into a car to drive away. My little niece ran up to me to give me a hug goodbye. I knelt down and hugged her.
As we hugged, my niece told me something about how she was being taken away to some place that she didn't like. It seemed like members of my family were taking my niece away to this place because they didn't like her or want her to develop as a person. I wished I could stop my niece from being taken away. But I didn't know how.
Dream #1
I was out in some suburban neighborhood during the day. My view was really low, as if I were kneeling or seeing from a child's point of view. A group of men stood over me. They were all dressed in cream-white, plastic or latex outfits that went over their whole bodies, including their heads, kind of like radiation suits. The faces seemed to have green, plastic rings where the mouths would be. The rest of the headpieces kind of wrinkled around the heads. The men may all have been heading to one specific house.
Dream #2
I was probably at work, in the back area of some store. The store actually seemed to have two back areas. One was a stocking area for products that would be pulled and given directly to the customers. Then there was an area behind that. At first I was in the area behind this stocking area. I'm not sure what the area was or what I was doing there.
I may have heard an old woman, who worked as a customer clerk in the front area, speaking to a young woman about a lost item, which the older woman had in the stocking area. The older woman gave the young woman the lost item. But the young woman was still in the stocking area.
I now realized that the older woman still had two lost items. They were both with her up in the front area. I thought these items might have belonged to the young woman. So I walked into the stocking area and found the young woman.
As we stood looking at the thin, backless shelves, I told the woman, "That older woman has two more missing items up in the front area with her. They're both bags. I didn't know if you were missing two bags. But I thought I might let you know, just in case you were missing them and the old woman had let you think she'd given you everything she had."
The young woman didn't respond. I thought that maybe the bags weren't the young woman's. Now the older woman walked back into the stocking area to get some sales items. She somehow made it known to me that she knew I was telling the young woman about the other missing items. My actions obviously meant I was second-guessing the older woman's actions. This could, I knew, make the older woman angry with me. And since the older woman held a senior position to me in this company, it also meant she could fire me.
I left the store, possibly obeying some command the older woman had given me. I was now out in a huge parking lot. My family was there. Either I was or they were getting into a car to drive away. My little niece ran up to me to give me a hug goodbye. I knelt down and hugged her.
As we hugged, my niece told me something about how she was being taken away to some place that she didn't like. It seemed like members of my family were taking my niece away to this place because they didn't like her or want her to develop as a person. I wished I could stop my niece from being taken away. But I didn't know how.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
the steep hill to nowhere; hurtful jokes
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a car with my step-grandmother and my mother. My step-grandmother was driving. We were just coming home after having taken care of something. We were on the highway. We were now somewhere near a confluence of highways. We were trying to figure out what was the best way home.
My grandma may have taken one of the highways by accident, maybe because she'd been distracted by the conversation all three of us had been having. But my grandma had come up with the idea that we were, after all, traveling on the correct road. This may have had to do with the fact that this road was higher than the other roads. In fact, this road may have been a bridge across a wide river.
But at some point we may have decided that we needed to turn off on another road, or we may have been surprised that this road led us in a direction we hadn't expected. Somehow, we ended up going up a hill that was totally unexpected to me.
The hill was incredibly steep. I didn't know if the car could get up the hill. I even feared that the car might tumble over backwards and roll back down the hill. But nobody else in the car seemed surprised by the height and steepness of the hill.
I thought we must have been meant to go up this hill. But when we got to the crest of the hill, the road completely dead ended. The road just ended in mid-air. A thin metal barrier kept cars from driving off the road and plunging far down to the river below.
My grandma decided to pull us into a u-turn. We scraped along the barrier. I was afraid we were going to fall down into the water. I was also disappointed that I hadn't been able to stop us somehow from wasting our time on this road.
Now we were heading down the high, steep hill. But I was tremendously afraid to look at the downward slope. I had no idea how we could control the speed of our downward movement. I was now even more afraid that the car would end up just toppling down the slope.
Dream #2
I was out in some area that looked like a rooftop with my mom and step-grandmother. My grandma and I were in a "car," even though I don't think the car was really there. My mom was out somewhere else. On the rooftop, there was a star-like configuration of black, fake leather seats like dentist's chairs. Just to the left of that configuration there was a house-shaped structure made of cinder blocks: like the structure that tops a stairwell as it exits onto a rooftop.
My grandma and I were driving the "car" around the house-shaped structure. As we drove past the star-shaped configuration, I noticed that each seat had a couple clumps on it. One clump was large, like a couple of wet blankets, maybe inside or covered by something like a wet paper bag. Another clump was a clump of wet, brightly pastel colored yarn.
Something about these clumps made me think of some mass murderer who had been in the news. Maybe the news had reported that the police had found something like these clumps in the mass murderer's house. But for some reason, the memory of this murderer made me start joking with my grandma about the murderer. We then also remembered some kind of voodoo ritual that involved brightly colored clumps like this. So in our jokes we began combining the story of this mass murderer with stories of voodoo rituals.
My mom was getting really upset by these jokes. My mom told me and my grandma to stop making the jokes. But I laughingly disregarded my mom and kept making the jokes.
We rounded the structure and passed the seats and the wet clumps again. This time the clumps, especially the clumps of yarn, were really wet and mildewy. They were kind of gross. For some reason, this made me think more seriously of voodoo rituals. I made a comment to my grandma about how nobody would seriously use a voodoo ritual to kill anybody. I was saying this more because I wanted to rid myself of a feeling of guilt and to remove any suspicion from myself than because I didn't really believe in voodoo.
Now I was starting to feel bad about having said all this stuff in front of my mom. After she'd said she didn't want to hear anymore, I'd only continued saying things because I thought she was being overly sensitive, and I didn't want to give in so easily to her sensitivity. But now I thought that maybe she was really, reasonably, upset by what I'd been joking about.
We rounded the structure again. This time as we passed the seats, my mom lay on one of them. She looked really exhausted and depressed. She even looked like she might die. I was really upset. I thought that the things I'd said had been responsible for putting my mom into this condition. Now I was really sorry for what I'd said.
Dream #1
I was in a car with my step-grandmother and my mother. My step-grandmother was driving. We were just coming home after having taken care of something. We were on the highway. We were now somewhere near a confluence of highways. We were trying to figure out what was the best way home.
My grandma may have taken one of the highways by accident, maybe because she'd been distracted by the conversation all three of us had been having. But my grandma had come up with the idea that we were, after all, traveling on the correct road. This may have had to do with the fact that this road was higher than the other roads. In fact, this road may have been a bridge across a wide river.
But at some point we may have decided that we needed to turn off on another road, or we may have been surprised that this road led us in a direction we hadn't expected. Somehow, we ended up going up a hill that was totally unexpected to me.
The hill was incredibly steep. I didn't know if the car could get up the hill. I even feared that the car might tumble over backwards and roll back down the hill. But nobody else in the car seemed surprised by the height and steepness of the hill.
I thought we must have been meant to go up this hill. But when we got to the crest of the hill, the road completely dead ended. The road just ended in mid-air. A thin metal barrier kept cars from driving off the road and plunging far down to the river below.
My grandma decided to pull us into a u-turn. We scraped along the barrier. I was afraid we were going to fall down into the water. I was also disappointed that I hadn't been able to stop us somehow from wasting our time on this road.
Now we were heading down the high, steep hill. But I was tremendously afraid to look at the downward slope. I had no idea how we could control the speed of our downward movement. I was now even more afraid that the car would end up just toppling down the slope.
Dream #2
I was out in some area that looked like a rooftop with my mom and step-grandmother. My grandma and I were in a "car," even though I don't think the car was really there. My mom was out somewhere else. On the rooftop, there was a star-like configuration of black, fake leather seats like dentist's chairs. Just to the left of that configuration there was a house-shaped structure made of cinder blocks: like the structure that tops a stairwell as it exits onto a rooftop.
My grandma and I were driving the "car" around the house-shaped structure. As we drove past the star-shaped configuration, I noticed that each seat had a couple clumps on it. One clump was large, like a couple of wet blankets, maybe inside or covered by something like a wet paper bag. Another clump was a clump of wet, brightly pastel colored yarn.
Something about these clumps made me think of some mass murderer who had been in the news. Maybe the news had reported that the police had found something like these clumps in the mass murderer's house. But for some reason, the memory of this murderer made me start joking with my grandma about the murderer. We then also remembered some kind of voodoo ritual that involved brightly colored clumps like this. So in our jokes we began combining the story of this mass murderer with stories of voodoo rituals.
My mom was getting really upset by these jokes. My mom told me and my grandma to stop making the jokes. But I laughingly disregarded my mom and kept making the jokes.
We rounded the structure and passed the seats and the wet clumps again. This time the clumps, especially the clumps of yarn, were really wet and mildewy. They were kind of gross. For some reason, this made me think more seriously of voodoo rituals. I made a comment to my grandma about how nobody would seriously use a voodoo ritual to kill anybody. I was saying this more because I wanted to rid myself of a feeling of guilt and to remove any suspicion from myself than because I didn't really believe in voodoo.
Now I was starting to feel bad about having said all this stuff in front of my mom. After she'd said she didn't want to hear anymore, I'd only continued saying things because I thought she was being overly sensitive, and I didn't want to give in so easily to her sensitivity. But now I thought that maybe she was really, reasonably, upset by what I'd been joking about.
We rounded the structure again. This time as we passed the seats, my mom lay on one of them. She looked really exhausted and depressed. She even looked like she might die. I was really upset. I thought that the things I'd said had been responsible for putting my mom into this condition. Now I was really sorry for what I'd said.
Monday, October 1, 2012
seduced by my psychiatrist?
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a hospital. Possibly whatever I had been there for was all taken care of. But I don't know whether I was trying to leave. It seems to me now like I was going up and down in an elevator. I was confused somehow about where I was going on the elevator. Someone else may also have gotten on the elevator and made the elevator go in a different direction from the one I wanted.
Eventually I was outside the hospital. I got into a car with my family. It was a black night. Now it may have been like both my mom and I had been in the hospital. We had somehow brought toys from the hospital for my nephews and niece.
My niece pointed out something wrong with her toy. Her toy was some kind of male action figure. The problem with the toy may have been something in the packaging, like there was a hole or tear in the clear plastic around the action figure. My niece pointed this out to me as if to imply that by giving her a toy with this kind of fault, I was showing that I didn't care about her.
I felt bad that my niece felt this way. I believe my niece (who is only four years old) told me that if I wanted to fix things, I should go to my psychiatrist. My niece may also have told me that there was something going on in my psychiatrist's life that my psychiatrist really wanted to tell me about. My psychiatrist may even have asked my niece to tell me to come see her.
So I went to my psychiatrist's house. My psychiatrist opened the door. She was in a white nightgown. She hadn't expected to see me here, since I hadn't made an appointment or anything. But she let me into the house. She led me through a lit living room, through a room like a study, which was unlit, and into a room I thought at first was a visiting room, but which was actually a bedroom. The room was almost totally dark.
I could hear a football game blaring in the living room. I thought my psychiatrist had been watching the game. I told her that I was sorry I was interrupting the game. I said I didn't need to see her right now, if she'd rather see the game. I was just told to come over here, so I did so as soon as possible.
My psychiatrist said it was no problem, that she was actually glad I'd come. I could tell she really wanted to tell me something, but I couldn't guess what. Part of me thought that she really wanted me here because she wanted to have sex with me.
My psychiatrist said she'd turn on the lights so that we could see each other in her visiting room. She flicked a light switch on. No lights came on. The room was still dark. But my psychiatrist and I were both satisfied, as if the lights had come on.
I could see that my psychiatrist was wearing a protective paper or cloth mask over her mouth and nose. This kind of scared me. I realized that maybe what my psychiatrist wanted to tell me was that she had some kind of really bad illness. My psychiatrist's nightgown, I noticed, was also very sheer. My psychiatrist was wearing white panties, which I could see very plainly. I was really turned on, and I began to hope that my psychiatrist actually did want to have sex with me.
My psychiatrist sat on her bed, with her back propped up against the headboard and her legs stretched out on the mattress. She said she'd been in the hospital all day today. It seemed to me she was feeling pretty depressed. I wasn't really interested about talking about my own problems anymore. I really felt bad for coming to talk about them now, while my psychiatrist was in such bad condition. All I wanted to do was make sure she was okay.
My psychiatrist, though, seemed reluctant to give any details about her own condition. It seemed like she had asked me to talk about myself, like she was really trying to carry on a session between her and me. But she was also still talking about her condition, or at least making her own anguish known through her body language.
She now flopped down and rolled over on the bed, so that she was face down on the bed, laying sideways across the mattress, instead of with her head at the headboard and her feet at the baseboard. For some reason, I took this as another indication that my psychiatrist wanted to have sex with me. I thought I should get on top of her while she was in this position.
Dream #1
I was in a hospital. Possibly whatever I had been there for was all taken care of. But I don't know whether I was trying to leave. It seems to me now like I was going up and down in an elevator. I was confused somehow about where I was going on the elevator. Someone else may also have gotten on the elevator and made the elevator go in a different direction from the one I wanted.
Eventually I was outside the hospital. I got into a car with my family. It was a black night. Now it may have been like both my mom and I had been in the hospital. We had somehow brought toys from the hospital for my nephews and niece.
My niece pointed out something wrong with her toy. Her toy was some kind of male action figure. The problem with the toy may have been something in the packaging, like there was a hole or tear in the clear plastic around the action figure. My niece pointed this out to me as if to imply that by giving her a toy with this kind of fault, I was showing that I didn't care about her.
I felt bad that my niece felt this way. I believe my niece (who is only four years old) told me that if I wanted to fix things, I should go to my psychiatrist. My niece may also have told me that there was something going on in my psychiatrist's life that my psychiatrist really wanted to tell me about. My psychiatrist may even have asked my niece to tell me to come see her.
So I went to my psychiatrist's house. My psychiatrist opened the door. She was in a white nightgown. She hadn't expected to see me here, since I hadn't made an appointment or anything. But she let me into the house. She led me through a lit living room, through a room like a study, which was unlit, and into a room I thought at first was a visiting room, but which was actually a bedroom. The room was almost totally dark.
I could hear a football game blaring in the living room. I thought my psychiatrist had been watching the game. I told her that I was sorry I was interrupting the game. I said I didn't need to see her right now, if she'd rather see the game. I was just told to come over here, so I did so as soon as possible.
My psychiatrist said it was no problem, that she was actually glad I'd come. I could tell she really wanted to tell me something, but I couldn't guess what. Part of me thought that she really wanted me here because she wanted to have sex with me.
My psychiatrist said she'd turn on the lights so that we could see each other in her visiting room. She flicked a light switch on. No lights came on. The room was still dark. But my psychiatrist and I were both satisfied, as if the lights had come on.
I could see that my psychiatrist was wearing a protective paper or cloth mask over her mouth and nose. This kind of scared me. I realized that maybe what my psychiatrist wanted to tell me was that she had some kind of really bad illness. My psychiatrist's nightgown, I noticed, was also very sheer. My psychiatrist was wearing white panties, which I could see very plainly. I was really turned on, and I began to hope that my psychiatrist actually did want to have sex with me.
My psychiatrist sat on her bed, with her back propped up against the headboard and her legs stretched out on the mattress. She said she'd been in the hospital all day today. It seemed to me she was feeling pretty depressed. I wasn't really interested about talking about my own problems anymore. I really felt bad for coming to talk about them now, while my psychiatrist was in such bad condition. All I wanted to do was make sure she was okay.
My psychiatrist, though, seemed reluctant to give any details about her own condition. It seemed like she had asked me to talk about myself, like she was really trying to carry on a session between her and me. But she was also still talking about her condition, or at least making her own anguish known through her body language.
She now flopped down and rolled over on the bed, so that she was face down on the bed, laying sideways across the mattress, instead of with her head at the headboard and her feet at the baseboard. For some reason, I took this as another indication that my psychiatrist wanted to have sex with me. I thought I should get on top of her while she was in this position.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
the young man's not a fraud
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
An Adam Sandler movie. Adam Sandler played some guy who befriended a young man. It may even have seemed like Sandler was going to marry this young man. But the young man somehow turned out to be a "fraud," and he'd vanished from Sandler's life. Sandler was bitter and sad. A young woman who may have been Sandler's main or real love interest through the film may have explained to Sandler how she'd warned him about this young man.
I was now at some scene near the middle of the movie. Sandler and the young man were out on a dock over a lake. The young man seemed to be really shy and sensitive. Apparently Sandler had done something aggressive or loud to upset the young man. The young man may have been so upset that he had been perched on a roof, reluctant to come down. But slowly the young man felt good enough to come back down from the roof.
Sandler had made a huge plate of nachos (with something like chili sauce on them?). Sandler and the young man sat down on the dock with the huge plate of nachos between them. There was a little conversation, mostly carried on by Sandler: the young man was too quiet to carry on much of a conversation. But from the conversation, it became apparent to me, even though I think it was plain throughout the whole movie, that the young man had a little daughter.
Sandler was doing his best not to act aggressive and frighten away the young man. But it seemed to be wearing on him. And he seemed to resent the young man because of it. He felt like the young man required him to act better than he was, like the young man was some kind of better person, and therefore to be resented, simply because of his sensitivities to crude actions.
Sandler then mentioned some kind of punk rock festival. Sandler thought that was a somewhat artsy thing. And Sandler thought the young man liked artsy things. So Sandler figured that the punk rock festival might be a good way to get the young man to like Sandler again.
The punk rock festival was taking place in some Main Street like area in a small town. The first act the movie showed was of a woman-fronted punk band that was playing on a rooftop. The woman wore a white sweater and had short, auburn hair. She played guitar and sang. She sang a heavy, thrashy, but not quite punky, song.
It suddenly became clear that this girl was the young man's old lover. The young man was going to meet up with his old lover. It would be plain to both of them that they were still in love with each other. When the girl's band left town, the young man would go with the band, leaving Sandler alone.
I realized now that the young man hadn't left Sandler because the young man was a fraud. He left Sandler because he and Sandler weren't emotionally compatible and because he and the girl were still in love with each other. I wanted somehow to explain this whole thing to Sandler so that Sandler wouldn't be so sad and bitter toward the young man.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing, September 30, 2012, 7:30 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
An Adam Sandler movie. Adam Sandler played some guy who befriended a young man. It may even have seemed like Sandler was going to marry this young man. But the young man somehow turned out to be a "fraud," and he'd vanished from Sandler's life. Sandler was bitter and sad. A young woman who may have been Sandler's main or real love interest through the film may have explained to Sandler how she'd warned him about this young man.
I was now at some scene near the middle of the movie. Sandler and the young man were out on a dock over a lake. The young man seemed to be really shy and sensitive. Apparently Sandler had done something aggressive or loud to upset the young man. The young man may have been so upset that he had been perched on a roof, reluctant to come down. But slowly the young man felt good enough to come back down from the roof.
Sandler had made a huge plate of nachos (with something like chili sauce on them?). Sandler and the young man sat down on the dock with the huge plate of nachos between them. There was a little conversation, mostly carried on by Sandler: the young man was too quiet to carry on much of a conversation. But from the conversation, it became apparent to me, even though I think it was plain throughout the whole movie, that the young man had a little daughter.
Sandler was doing his best not to act aggressive and frighten away the young man. But it seemed to be wearing on him. And he seemed to resent the young man because of it. He felt like the young man required him to act better than he was, like the young man was some kind of better person, and therefore to be resented, simply because of his sensitivities to crude actions.
Sandler then mentioned some kind of punk rock festival. Sandler thought that was a somewhat artsy thing. And Sandler thought the young man liked artsy things. So Sandler figured that the punk rock festival might be a good way to get the young man to like Sandler again.
The punk rock festival was taking place in some Main Street like area in a small town. The first act the movie showed was of a woman-fronted punk band that was playing on a rooftop. The woman wore a white sweater and had short, auburn hair. She played guitar and sang. She sang a heavy, thrashy, but not quite punky, song.
It suddenly became clear that this girl was the young man's old lover. The young man was going to meet up with his old lover. It would be plain to both of them that they were still in love with each other. When the girl's band left town, the young man would go with the band, leaving Sandler alone.
I realized now that the young man hadn't left Sandler because the young man was a fraud. He left Sandler because he and Sandler weren't emotionally compatible and because he and the girl were still in love with each other. I wanted somehow to explain this whole thing to Sandler so that Sandler wouldn't be so sad and bitter toward the young man.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing, September 30, 2012, 7:30 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
housewarming pop culture; seductive girlfight; karaoke 1; empty luxury; karaoke 2
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I had come back home to "my apartment." I may only recently have moved into this place. I walked into the living room to discover that my old best friend R had sent me a huge package. The package was a housewarming present.
I opened the package. It was full of stuff. The most prominent thing in the package was a box of shoes. I'd needed some new casual shoes, as the soles of my current ones were getting thin. Somehow R knew this and sent me shoes.
The rest of the box was full of pop culture items: mostly music CDs and movie posters. Two of the movie posters were enormous and rolled up together. The front movie poster was for a new Tim Burton claymation movie. The poster was "in French" (it really wasn't French) and gave the title of the movie as Formulation. A clay man and woman stood at the top of the hill in the circle of the sun or moon and under an orange sky. The man wore a leather and buckles kind of outfit.
I thought this movie poster matched my style, but I couldn't figure out why. I looked up at my walls. There were two life-sized cutouts pasted up to my wall. One was of Brandon Lee in The Crow. The other was another leather and buckles kind of guy, maybe Edward Scissorhands.
I looked back down to the package. I pulled out the soundtrack for the Sophia Coppola movie Marie Antoinette. As I flipped the CD case around in my hands I could either hear R speak or else see a post-it note from R. Basically I perceived some apology for the Marie Antoinette soundtrack -- as if some of the songs were so weird that R thought they might not be my style, even though he personally was really excited about the soundtrack and wanted to share it with me.
Dream #2
I was in the backseat of a car, driving along a wide, park-like road in some suburban area, probably in a wealthy part of town. There were probably three other guys in the car, all businessmen. The guy driving the car was TM, a former co-worker of mine. But in the dream I didn't know TM. He and the other guys in the car were guys who worked for a company I was trying to get a job with.
I'd just interviewed with the company, and now we were all headed away from the company -- like it was the end of the day and the guys had all decided they'd drop me off at home. I suddenly remembered that as I'd passed TM's office, I saw a picture of another of my old co-workers, TI, on TM's desk. I realized that TI had called TM to put in a good word for me.
I asked TM, "Hey, have you spoken with TI lately?" TM didn't seem to know who TI was. I thought that was kind of weird and annoying. I told TM, "Well TI told me he was going to call you and put in a good word for me. And you must know who he is, even if he didn't call you yet. You have a huge picture of him right on the top of your desk."
TM now seemed ashamed. He squinted, as if he were now trying really hard to remember who TI was. He finally may have come to the conclusion that he did, in fact, know who TI was. I felt really bad at this point. Here I was, trying to get a job from TM. And instead, I was sitting here, making him feel really bad about himself.
We stopped the car for some reason out on some wide road in front of some large, brick apartment complexes. A group of little girls was playing some tag-like game in the road. TM sat there and watched the little girls. He may have made some remark to me about the simplicity and kindness of children.
One of the little girls then shouted out to TM, "Hey? Why are you looking at us? Are you trying to do something funny with us?"
TM tried to assure the girls he was just watching them play because he liked to remember the innocence of childhood. But the girl said, "Well, don't you dare try to touch me! Because if you do, I'll call the police!"
TM may have gotten made at this point. He may have shown his anger and frustration in some vocal or phsyical way while remaining separate from the girls. The girls may have been reacting in a nasty way toward TM as well, although it may have seemed to me they were just trying to coax him to get closer to them.
But in the middle of all this, a tall, strong girl shouted and broke up the rest of the crowd of girls. She bent over and touched her hands to the ground. This quieted all the girls down. The girl then stood up and told TM that anything he wanted to try against the girls he could try against her. She was tough and confident and felt like she could counter any assault TM would attempt.
TM still remained separate from the girls. But the tough girl finally taunted TM to the point where, in a rage, he flew at the girl. He made some weird kind of movement toward the girl -- something like slapping her chest, then grabbing one of her own hands, or the hand of another girl, and making that hand slap the tough girl in the face.
This incited a big, fight-like game among all the girls and TM. I understood that the girls weren't really trying to fight TM. They were actually trying to confuse him into letting them seduce him. But now I saw that one girl, who was deciding to be nice and take TM under her wing, had grabbed TM's hand. She was walking TM through the crowd of frenzied girls. The girls all now seemed unaware of TM. They seemed to be fighting or playing violently with each other.
Dream #3
I was at some sort of karaoke event. I was in a huge room filled with long, school cafeteria-style folding tables. There were rows and rows of these tables, all with white tops and benches. At the far end of the room was the actual karaoke performance area. I couldn't see the performance area very well, if at all. But I could see the karaoke DJ sitting down at the front bench and working something out on a piece of paper.
The tables weren't full, but the space was so big that it felt like there were a lot of people here anyway. Not a lot of people were going up to perform. A lot of the time, a song would play in between people who were actually performing, just because people weren't putting song requests in fast enough to keep the karaoke performances constant.
I hadn't thought I'd do any karaoke. But now it was getting so frustrating to hear regular songs instead of karaoke songs that I decided I would sing a couple songs. I thought I'd sing one song in English and one in Japanese. I looked through the book of songs without finding anything I really wanted to sing. Then I realized that it actually cost money to sing: something like $1 per song. I didn't have any money. I'd have to go back to my house to grab some money.
I stood up and walked out of the karaoke space and out onto a wide, grassy field. It was a cool, grey day. I now knew I was at a fair of some kind. Bordering the large, grassy field were booths and little structures set up as exhibits for the fair. The karaoke section was only a part of it. I think the rest of my family was here as well.
My brother came running up behind me. He looked a little bit fat, like he'd gained about twenty pounds since the last time I'd seen him. He asked me where I was going. I told him I was heading home to grab some money. He said he was heading home for a second, too, so he could give me a ride if I wanted. I told him that sounded good.
My brother asked me if I'd ever heard of a coffee called "uite" or "uita" (pronounced "you-ee-tay" or "you-ee-tah"). He said it was a new trend among coffee drinkers. It was based on a very old, native style of coffee. He said it had a rich, bitter flavor with "glass undertones."
For a moment I wondered what "glass undertones" could possibly come from. Then I realized that in the making of the uite coffee -- I had the image of grass and dirt in my mind's eye -- the actual melting (???) process created a material that was potable, but which had chemical similarities to glass. So the coffee actually did have a glass-like taste.
I told my brother, "Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I have heard of uite coffee. But I've never tried it before."
Dream #4
I stood out on a street corner in a city like New York. Looking across the street, I saw a big, stone-like, but also barn-like, all-white building. The second floor of the building, I could see, was a shop that sold old vinyl records. From what I could see through the small windows, the shop looked, big, clean, well-lit, and full of people. But what interested me more was the floor above the record shop, which looked like an empty apartment.
I was suddenly now in the apartment. The apartment was huge and completely empty. The floors and walls were in pristine condition. I started out at the back end of the apartment and walked toward the front. At the front there was a stairway leading up one level. I walked up the stairway and found myself in an area just as huge, empty, and pristine as the area below.
I had a bunch of clothes and towels with me. I decided to hang some of this stuff up in a closet at the back end of the upper level. I knew this was allowed. Anybody could store their stuff in this place. I had a few more items of clothing with me. I wanted to store them as well. But I didn't know where.
I may have found myself back outside the building, across the street, looking up at the record store. I may then have been inside the record store. But even though the record store seemed really beautiful, cheerful, and busy, it didn't interest me.
I walked out of the store. I was in the stairwell of the building. I wondered, walking up the stairwell to get to the apartment, what it must be like to live above a record store. I wondered if it was loud. I had the idea that it didn't have to be too loud. But I wondered whether, if I lived above the store, the owners of the store would turn their in-store music up extra loud just to annoy me -- because they didn't like me personally.
I got back into the apartment and realized I couldn't live here anyway. It would be too expensive. And besides, I didn't think it was for sale. I knew the place was open to anybody who wanted to store their clothes here. And people could even hang out here during the day, if they wanted to. But nobody was really allowed to live here.
Walking around in the space, I marveled at the fact that I hadn't known about it before. It was so huge and so quiet, such a great place to just come and relax. It would, really, be a great place to live, as well. The only problem with it, I thought, was that it was built so that the whole, huge space consisted of two or three large segments, more like two or three enormous living rooms, rather than any actual bedrooms.
But now, looking right and back over my shoulder, I began to realize that there were side rooms. For some reason I couldn't quite make myself go into these rooms. But one of the rooms I stopped in front of seemed to be bedroom sized. It seemed like the room was separated from me by a smaller room, something like a walk-in closet.
I had my other clothes in my hand, still trying to decide whether I wanted to take them up to the closet to hang them up. I knew that even though nobody else was using this space, the space was open to anybody. And these clothes were my really good clothes. I didn't want to hang them up with the rest of the clothes, only to find out later on that someone had gotten into the clothes and messed them all up because they didn't like me. Now I even became a bit paranoid about the other clothes that I'd already hung up. They weren't my best clothes. But, still, I didn't want people messing them up.
Dream #5
I was in a "restaurant" that seemed more like some kind of casino -- or, more like a casino space with slot machines that looked and played more like 8-bit video games than slot machines. I was seated at a "booth" with an older woman, maybe one of my grandmothers. I was trying to tell my grandma about this place, trying, in some way to justify its existence. But I felt like my arguments were all kind of naive and lame.
I then realized that this place also held a karaoke area. I had actually been in the karaoke area some time ago. I had been planning to head back to the karaoke area after I'd taken care of something. But I'd forgotten to go back to the karaoke area.
So I stood up and told my grandma that I had to go back to the karaoke area. I tried again to justify the existence of the karaoke area to my grandma. But I knew all my arguments for sounded lame.
I was now walking outside, as if one had to go outside the building to go from one section in the building to another section. I walked along a ridge a bit separated from and elevated with the building, so I got a good view of the overall building. The building was interesting. It was mostly made of glass, and it was configured of a few different shapes: a cylinder and a couple of curvy, not-quite-cubes. Looking inside, one could see how much the entire space looked like some kind of children's playplace than an adult casino.
A car now drove up behind me. One of my old bosses got out of the car and walked up to me. He asked me if he could give me a ride home. I wasn't going home, but I also really didn't want a ride from my old boss at all. So I told my old boss, "No, I'm not going home yet. In fact, I'm heading back into the building right now to sing some karaoke."
My old boss said, "Well, let me drive you somewhere. You know, they have karaoke up the street, as well. Up at that place..." My old boss pointed up the road and slung his finger off toward the right, indicating a road going up a small slope.
I told my old boss, "No. I don't want to do karaoke there. I want to do karaoke here, at this place." Eventually my old boss relented, got back in his car, and drove away. But, walking back toward the building, I was feeling really stressed out. I didn't think I should always have to make such a big argument with people for wanting to do my own thing. But it seemed as if I always had to.
I may have been back in the karaoke area for a little while. The karaoke area may have looked a lot like the karaoke area from dream #3. The one difference between the areas, though, may have been that here, people could write "criticism cards." After each person performed, you could give a criticism of the performance. This criticism would be posted, most likely by the next morning, on either the person's email or Facebook. I thought I'd definitely write criticisms, but only positive ones, like, "good job!" or "you really had a lot of energy!"
Dream #1
I had come back home to "my apartment." I may only recently have moved into this place. I walked into the living room to discover that my old best friend R had sent me a huge package. The package was a housewarming present.
I opened the package. It was full of stuff. The most prominent thing in the package was a box of shoes. I'd needed some new casual shoes, as the soles of my current ones were getting thin. Somehow R knew this and sent me shoes.
The rest of the box was full of pop culture items: mostly music CDs and movie posters. Two of the movie posters were enormous and rolled up together. The front movie poster was for a new Tim Burton claymation movie. The poster was "in French" (it really wasn't French) and gave the title of the movie as Formulation. A clay man and woman stood at the top of the hill in the circle of the sun or moon and under an orange sky. The man wore a leather and buckles kind of outfit.
I thought this movie poster matched my style, but I couldn't figure out why. I looked up at my walls. There were two life-sized cutouts pasted up to my wall. One was of Brandon Lee in The Crow. The other was another leather and buckles kind of guy, maybe Edward Scissorhands.
I looked back down to the package. I pulled out the soundtrack for the Sophia Coppola movie Marie Antoinette. As I flipped the CD case around in my hands I could either hear R speak or else see a post-it note from R. Basically I perceived some apology for the Marie Antoinette soundtrack -- as if some of the songs were so weird that R thought they might not be my style, even though he personally was really excited about the soundtrack and wanted to share it with me.
Dream #2
I was in the backseat of a car, driving along a wide, park-like road in some suburban area, probably in a wealthy part of town. There were probably three other guys in the car, all businessmen. The guy driving the car was TM, a former co-worker of mine. But in the dream I didn't know TM. He and the other guys in the car were guys who worked for a company I was trying to get a job with.
I'd just interviewed with the company, and now we were all headed away from the company -- like it was the end of the day and the guys had all decided they'd drop me off at home. I suddenly remembered that as I'd passed TM's office, I saw a picture of another of my old co-workers, TI, on TM's desk. I realized that TI had called TM to put in a good word for me.
I asked TM, "Hey, have you spoken with TI lately?" TM didn't seem to know who TI was. I thought that was kind of weird and annoying. I told TM, "Well TI told me he was going to call you and put in a good word for me. And you must know who he is, even if he didn't call you yet. You have a huge picture of him right on the top of your desk."
TM now seemed ashamed. He squinted, as if he were now trying really hard to remember who TI was. He finally may have come to the conclusion that he did, in fact, know who TI was. I felt really bad at this point. Here I was, trying to get a job from TM. And instead, I was sitting here, making him feel really bad about himself.
We stopped the car for some reason out on some wide road in front of some large, brick apartment complexes. A group of little girls was playing some tag-like game in the road. TM sat there and watched the little girls. He may have made some remark to me about the simplicity and kindness of children.
One of the little girls then shouted out to TM, "Hey? Why are you looking at us? Are you trying to do something funny with us?"
TM tried to assure the girls he was just watching them play because he liked to remember the innocence of childhood. But the girl said, "Well, don't you dare try to touch me! Because if you do, I'll call the police!"
TM may have gotten made at this point. He may have shown his anger and frustration in some vocal or phsyical way while remaining separate from the girls. The girls may have been reacting in a nasty way toward TM as well, although it may have seemed to me they were just trying to coax him to get closer to them.
But in the middle of all this, a tall, strong girl shouted and broke up the rest of the crowd of girls. She bent over and touched her hands to the ground. This quieted all the girls down. The girl then stood up and told TM that anything he wanted to try against the girls he could try against her. She was tough and confident and felt like she could counter any assault TM would attempt.
TM still remained separate from the girls. But the tough girl finally taunted TM to the point where, in a rage, he flew at the girl. He made some weird kind of movement toward the girl -- something like slapping her chest, then grabbing one of her own hands, or the hand of another girl, and making that hand slap the tough girl in the face.
This incited a big, fight-like game among all the girls and TM. I understood that the girls weren't really trying to fight TM. They were actually trying to confuse him into letting them seduce him. But now I saw that one girl, who was deciding to be nice and take TM under her wing, had grabbed TM's hand. She was walking TM through the crowd of frenzied girls. The girls all now seemed unaware of TM. They seemed to be fighting or playing violently with each other.
Dream #3
I was at some sort of karaoke event. I was in a huge room filled with long, school cafeteria-style folding tables. There were rows and rows of these tables, all with white tops and benches. At the far end of the room was the actual karaoke performance area. I couldn't see the performance area very well, if at all. But I could see the karaoke DJ sitting down at the front bench and working something out on a piece of paper.
The tables weren't full, but the space was so big that it felt like there were a lot of people here anyway. Not a lot of people were going up to perform. A lot of the time, a song would play in between people who were actually performing, just because people weren't putting song requests in fast enough to keep the karaoke performances constant.
I hadn't thought I'd do any karaoke. But now it was getting so frustrating to hear regular songs instead of karaoke songs that I decided I would sing a couple songs. I thought I'd sing one song in English and one in Japanese. I looked through the book of songs without finding anything I really wanted to sing. Then I realized that it actually cost money to sing: something like $1 per song. I didn't have any money. I'd have to go back to my house to grab some money.
I stood up and walked out of the karaoke space and out onto a wide, grassy field. It was a cool, grey day. I now knew I was at a fair of some kind. Bordering the large, grassy field were booths and little structures set up as exhibits for the fair. The karaoke section was only a part of it. I think the rest of my family was here as well.
My brother came running up behind me. He looked a little bit fat, like he'd gained about twenty pounds since the last time I'd seen him. He asked me where I was going. I told him I was heading home to grab some money. He said he was heading home for a second, too, so he could give me a ride if I wanted. I told him that sounded good.
My brother asked me if I'd ever heard of a coffee called "uite" or "uita" (pronounced "you-ee-tay" or "you-ee-tah"). He said it was a new trend among coffee drinkers. It was based on a very old, native style of coffee. He said it had a rich, bitter flavor with "glass undertones."
For a moment I wondered what "glass undertones" could possibly come from. Then I realized that in the making of the uite coffee -- I had the image of grass and dirt in my mind's eye -- the actual melting (???) process created a material that was potable, but which had chemical similarities to glass. So the coffee actually did have a glass-like taste.
I told my brother, "Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I have heard of uite coffee. But I've never tried it before."
Dream #4
I stood out on a street corner in a city like New York. Looking across the street, I saw a big, stone-like, but also barn-like, all-white building. The second floor of the building, I could see, was a shop that sold old vinyl records. From what I could see through the small windows, the shop looked, big, clean, well-lit, and full of people. But what interested me more was the floor above the record shop, which looked like an empty apartment.
I was suddenly now in the apartment. The apartment was huge and completely empty. The floors and walls were in pristine condition. I started out at the back end of the apartment and walked toward the front. At the front there was a stairway leading up one level. I walked up the stairway and found myself in an area just as huge, empty, and pristine as the area below.
I had a bunch of clothes and towels with me. I decided to hang some of this stuff up in a closet at the back end of the upper level. I knew this was allowed. Anybody could store their stuff in this place. I had a few more items of clothing with me. I wanted to store them as well. But I didn't know where.
I may have found myself back outside the building, across the street, looking up at the record store. I may then have been inside the record store. But even though the record store seemed really beautiful, cheerful, and busy, it didn't interest me.
I walked out of the store. I was in the stairwell of the building. I wondered, walking up the stairwell to get to the apartment, what it must be like to live above a record store. I wondered if it was loud. I had the idea that it didn't have to be too loud. But I wondered whether, if I lived above the store, the owners of the store would turn their in-store music up extra loud just to annoy me -- because they didn't like me personally.
I got back into the apartment and realized I couldn't live here anyway. It would be too expensive. And besides, I didn't think it was for sale. I knew the place was open to anybody who wanted to store their clothes here. And people could even hang out here during the day, if they wanted to. But nobody was really allowed to live here.
Walking around in the space, I marveled at the fact that I hadn't known about it before. It was so huge and so quiet, such a great place to just come and relax. It would, really, be a great place to live, as well. The only problem with it, I thought, was that it was built so that the whole, huge space consisted of two or three large segments, more like two or three enormous living rooms, rather than any actual bedrooms.
But now, looking right and back over my shoulder, I began to realize that there were side rooms. For some reason I couldn't quite make myself go into these rooms. But one of the rooms I stopped in front of seemed to be bedroom sized. It seemed like the room was separated from me by a smaller room, something like a walk-in closet.
I had my other clothes in my hand, still trying to decide whether I wanted to take them up to the closet to hang them up. I knew that even though nobody else was using this space, the space was open to anybody. And these clothes were my really good clothes. I didn't want to hang them up with the rest of the clothes, only to find out later on that someone had gotten into the clothes and messed them all up because they didn't like me. Now I even became a bit paranoid about the other clothes that I'd already hung up. They weren't my best clothes. But, still, I didn't want people messing them up.
Dream #5
I was in a "restaurant" that seemed more like some kind of casino -- or, more like a casino space with slot machines that looked and played more like 8-bit video games than slot machines. I was seated at a "booth" with an older woman, maybe one of my grandmothers. I was trying to tell my grandma about this place, trying, in some way to justify its existence. But I felt like my arguments were all kind of naive and lame.
I then realized that this place also held a karaoke area. I had actually been in the karaoke area some time ago. I had been planning to head back to the karaoke area after I'd taken care of something. But I'd forgotten to go back to the karaoke area.
So I stood up and told my grandma that I had to go back to the karaoke area. I tried again to justify the existence of the karaoke area to my grandma. But I knew all my arguments for sounded lame.
I was now walking outside, as if one had to go outside the building to go from one section in the building to another section. I walked along a ridge a bit separated from and elevated with the building, so I got a good view of the overall building. The building was interesting. It was mostly made of glass, and it was configured of a few different shapes: a cylinder and a couple of curvy, not-quite-cubes. Looking inside, one could see how much the entire space looked like some kind of children's playplace than an adult casino.
A car now drove up behind me. One of my old bosses got out of the car and walked up to me. He asked me if he could give me a ride home. I wasn't going home, but I also really didn't want a ride from my old boss at all. So I told my old boss, "No, I'm not going home yet. In fact, I'm heading back into the building right now to sing some karaoke."
My old boss said, "Well, let me drive you somewhere. You know, they have karaoke up the street, as well. Up at that place..." My old boss pointed up the road and slung his finger off toward the right, indicating a road going up a small slope.
I told my old boss, "No. I don't want to do karaoke there. I want to do karaoke here, at this place." Eventually my old boss relented, got back in his car, and drove away. But, walking back toward the building, I was feeling really stressed out. I didn't think I should always have to make such a big argument with people for wanting to do my own thing. But it seemed as if I always had to.
I may have been back in the karaoke area for a little while. The karaoke area may have looked a lot like the karaoke area from dream #3. The one difference between the areas, though, may have been that here, people could write "criticism cards." After each person performed, you could give a criticism of the performance. This criticism would be posted, most likely by the next morning, on either the person's email or Facebook. I thought I'd definitely write criticisms, but only positive ones, like, "good job!" or "you really had a lot of energy!"
Friday, September 28, 2012
can't have babies; can't have relationship; can't wear diapers
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
A movie starring Will Ferrell. The basic idea was that Will Ferrell and his really beautiful wife kept having babies, and that it was now getting to the point where they couldn't afford to have any more. So the couple was trying to do things to make it so they could either stop having sex or stop having babies every time they had sex.
There was a kind of flashback montage that showed various times where the wife was in bed, waiting for Will Ferrell to get out of the bathroom. Each time Will Ferrell would come out of the bathroom doing something wacky or charming, and it was pretty obvious that Will Ferrell and his wife would then have sex and that the wife would get pregnant. I may have seen a lot of this montage from the wife's point of view.
But in the last little scene of the montage, when Will Ferrell came out of the bathroom acting all wacky and charming, the wife said, "Okay, let's get out of bed. Let's go into the living room and paint portraits of each other."
Will Ferrell repeated, "Paint portraits of each other," very seriously and quickly, like a chastised child. He understood that the wife was doing this to get the couple's minds off of sex. But it was pretty obvious that the couple would get aroused by each other again while they were painting each other and that they would have sex and get pregnant again.
Dream #2
There were either three or four people in a loft-like space, sitting on a couple of couches. A more mature man and woman sat on one couch. A younger man, and possibly a younger woman, sat on the other couch. All three or four of the people were colleagues working for the same company.
The older man told the younger man (and woman?) that the older man and woman knew about the romantic relationship between the younger man and woman. The older man said that the younger couple had to stop seeing each other, that relationships at work were not accepted or considered professional.
The younger man didn't really have any intention of breaking off his relationship with the younger woman. He told the older man, "Yeah, we'll go ahead and stop seeing each other. But I know of an older man and woman within the company who are doing the same thing as we are."
The older man understood that this meant him and the older woman. The were, in fact, having a relationship. So if the younger man and woman were supposed to get in trouble for their relationship, then the older man and woman should get in trouble for their relationship, too.
The older man, knowing that he was caught, but still not wanting to admit it, gave the older woman a strange sign to indicate that they should stop harassing the younger couple about their relationship for the time being. The man hunched over, almost down to his knees, then lifted his left hand behind his back and bent his index finger up and down in a "come here" gesture. While the man did this, an image of a transparent newspaper -- like a newspaper made out of a sheet of glass -- rose up behind him. Behind the image of the newspaper, a man could be seen walking around.
Dream #3
I was in a department store. I had walked away from the men's clothing section. But there were some shirts I had been interested in. So I went back. But as I returned to the section, a big, black man was kneeling down in front of a wall-rack of shirts, completely blocking the aisle between the wall-rack and a standalone rack, the only aisle of entrance into the clothing section.
I asked the man to excuse me, but I couldn't control my motions very well, so I kept walking, bumping into the man a little bit. As I bumped into the man, I apologized and patted him on the arm and back. The man wore a pale blue polo shirt of soft thread in a roughly woven pattern. I liked the shirt a lot. I may have thought at that point that I was attracted to the man, or that I was giving him a false indication that I was attracted to him. I got embarrassed and tried to avoid any more interaction with the man.
But while I was looking at shirts (shirts that were way too huge for me) a couple of racks over from the man, the man turned to me and asked for my help. He was trying to get a shirt just like the shirt worn by some basketball player. But he couldn't remember the name of the basketball player. All he could remember about the player was that he was, even by basketball standards, huge, and that he probably played for the L.A. Lakers.
I tried to figure who that person could be. I had a deck of basketball cards in the left pocket of my jeans. So I pulled them out. I shuffled through the cards. There was one really huge player, with a huge, 1970s-style afro. But he played for a team called the Golden State Suns.
I found a couple of cards with basketball players from the L.A. Lakers. I pointed them out to the man. The first guy was not, I knew, the guy the man was referring to. But he was 6'9", which seemed to me to be pretty huge, as if this player would be one of the biggest people in the NBA. The second guy may actually have been the one the man had been looking for. In fact, I was pretty sure he was, and I was excited to have found him. But he was only 6'8" tall, a whole inch shorter than the first guy. It didn't make sense to me.
Suddenly, where the wall rack had been, there was a front yard for a suburban house. The yard was elevated, so that "ground level" for the yard started at about my shoulder. The yard was bounded by a chain-link fence.
A little chihuahua ran up to the fence and began barking furiously. It scared me and annoyed me a whole lot. There may have been another chihuahua in the yard that was less active than the first chihuahua. Even that chihuahua may have been annoyed by the first chihuahua. Something about the first chihuahua's face really disgusted me, like the nose and a patch of flesh around the nose was mottled or swollen or slimy.
I tried to ignore the chihuahua and continue helping the man. I managed to do so, even over the dog's barking. But then the dog started acting annoying in a different way. It was jealous of the attention I was giving the man. So now it acted all sad and whiny. It was poking its muzzle as far through the fence as it could, hoping that I would pet it or hold out my hand so it could lick my hand. But I was afraid that if I got close to the dog at all, it would bite me.
The whole area had now widened out into an outdoor space something like a rooftop on a big building. There were a couple of tiers on the rooftop. The tiers kind of served as bench-like ledges or stage-like platforms.
I sat at the edge of one of these tiers. I was talking with a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties. The young woman was practicing to become a psychiatrist. But she may also have been involved in theater in some way. She was thin and pretty, with short, brown-blonde hair.
The woman reminded me of my having spoken with her before in some kind of therapy session and telling her that I had a fetish where I liked to wear Pampers Baby Dry diapers. I vaguely remembered the session -- as if it had been part of a dream I'd had but forgotten. The woman told me she had spoken with some of the more senior psychiatrists, and that they all agreed that my wearing baby diapers was something that should be considered illicit or unacceptable. She told me I should stop doing it altogether.
I told the woman I had no intention of stopping wearing diapers, and that there was nothing illegal or illicit about it. I was afraid that the woman could find some way of hurting me, getting me in trouble for my fetish. But I wasn't going to stop just because I was afraid. I could tell the woman was angry and disgusted with me. I looked off to my left. There was a group of men and women playing some kind of silly game. I thought it might be fun to join them.
***
UPDATE: Added illustration to dream #3, September 28, 2012, 7:25 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
A movie starring Will Ferrell. The basic idea was that Will Ferrell and his really beautiful wife kept having babies, and that it was now getting to the point where they couldn't afford to have any more. So the couple was trying to do things to make it so they could either stop having sex or stop having babies every time they had sex.
There was a kind of flashback montage that showed various times where the wife was in bed, waiting for Will Ferrell to get out of the bathroom. Each time Will Ferrell would come out of the bathroom doing something wacky or charming, and it was pretty obvious that Will Ferrell and his wife would then have sex and that the wife would get pregnant. I may have seen a lot of this montage from the wife's point of view.
But in the last little scene of the montage, when Will Ferrell came out of the bathroom acting all wacky and charming, the wife said, "Okay, let's get out of bed. Let's go into the living room and paint portraits of each other."
Will Ferrell repeated, "Paint portraits of each other," very seriously and quickly, like a chastised child. He understood that the wife was doing this to get the couple's minds off of sex. But it was pretty obvious that the couple would get aroused by each other again while they were painting each other and that they would have sex and get pregnant again.
Dream #2
There were either three or four people in a loft-like space, sitting on a couple of couches. A more mature man and woman sat on one couch. A younger man, and possibly a younger woman, sat on the other couch. All three or four of the people were colleagues working for the same company.
The older man told the younger man (and woman?) that the older man and woman knew about the romantic relationship between the younger man and woman. The older man said that the younger couple had to stop seeing each other, that relationships at work were not accepted or considered professional.
The younger man didn't really have any intention of breaking off his relationship with the younger woman. He told the older man, "Yeah, we'll go ahead and stop seeing each other. But I know of an older man and woman within the company who are doing the same thing as we are."
The older man understood that this meant him and the older woman. The were, in fact, having a relationship. So if the younger man and woman were supposed to get in trouble for their relationship, then the older man and woman should get in trouble for their relationship, too.
The older man, knowing that he was caught, but still not wanting to admit it, gave the older woman a strange sign to indicate that they should stop harassing the younger couple about their relationship for the time being. The man hunched over, almost down to his knees, then lifted his left hand behind his back and bent his index finger up and down in a "come here" gesture. While the man did this, an image of a transparent newspaper -- like a newspaper made out of a sheet of glass -- rose up behind him. Behind the image of the newspaper, a man could be seen walking around.
Dream #3
I was in a department store. I had walked away from the men's clothing section. But there were some shirts I had been interested in. So I went back. But as I returned to the section, a big, black man was kneeling down in front of a wall-rack of shirts, completely blocking the aisle between the wall-rack and a standalone rack, the only aisle of entrance into the clothing section.
I asked the man to excuse me, but I couldn't control my motions very well, so I kept walking, bumping into the man a little bit. As I bumped into the man, I apologized and patted him on the arm and back. The man wore a pale blue polo shirt of soft thread in a roughly woven pattern. I liked the shirt a lot. I may have thought at that point that I was attracted to the man, or that I was giving him a false indication that I was attracted to him. I got embarrassed and tried to avoid any more interaction with the man.
But while I was looking at shirts (shirts that were way too huge for me) a couple of racks over from the man, the man turned to me and asked for my help. He was trying to get a shirt just like the shirt worn by some basketball player. But he couldn't remember the name of the basketball player. All he could remember about the player was that he was, even by basketball standards, huge, and that he probably played for the L.A. Lakers.
I tried to figure who that person could be. I had a deck of basketball cards in the left pocket of my jeans. So I pulled them out. I shuffled through the cards. There was one really huge player, with a huge, 1970s-style afro. But he played for a team called the Golden State Suns.
I found a couple of cards with basketball players from the L.A. Lakers. I pointed them out to the man. The first guy was not, I knew, the guy the man was referring to. But he was 6'9", which seemed to me to be pretty huge, as if this player would be one of the biggest people in the NBA. The second guy may actually have been the one the man had been looking for. In fact, I was pretty sure he was, and I was excited to have found him. But he was only 6'8" tall, a whole inch shorter than the first guy. It didn't make sense to me.
Suddenly, where the wall rack had been, there was a front yard for a suburban house. The yard was elevated, so that "ground level" for the yard started at about my shoulder. The yard was bounded by a chain-link fence.
A little chihuahua ran up to the fence and began barking furiously. It scared me and annoyed me a whole lot. There may have been another chihuahua in the yard that was less active than the first chihuahua. Even that chihuahua may have been annoyed by the first chihuahua. Something about the first chihuahua's face really disgusted me, like the nose and a patch of flesh around the nose was mottled or swollen or slimy.
I tried to ignore the chihuahua and continue helping the man. I managed to do so, even over the dog's barking. But then the dog started acting annoying in a different way. It was jealous of the attention I was giving the man. So now it acted all sad and whiny. It was poking its muzzle as far through the fence as it could, hoping that I would pet it or hold out my hand so it could lick my hand. But I was afraid that if I got close to the dog at all, it would bite me.
The whole area had now widened out into an outdoor space something like a rooftop on a big building. There were a couple of tiers on the rooftop. The tiers kind of served as bench-like ledges or stage-like platforms.
I sat at the edge of one of these tiers. I was talking with a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties. The young woman was practicing to become a psychiatrist. But she may also have been involved in theater in some way. She was thin and pretty, with short, brown-blonde hair.
The woman reminded me of my having spoken with her before in some kind of therapy session and telling her that I had a fetish where I liked to wear Pampers Baby Dry diapers. I vaguely remembered the session -- as if it had been part of a dream I'd had but forgotten. The woman told me she had spoken with some of the more senior psychiatrists, and that they all agreed that my wearing baby diapers was something that should be considered illicit or unacceptable. She told me I should stop doing it altogether.
I told the woman I had no intention of stopping wearing diapers, and that there was nothing illegal or illicit about it. I was afraid that the woman could find some way of hurting me, getting me in trouble for my fetish. But I wasn't going to stop just because I was afraid. I could tell the woman was angry and disgusted with me. I looked off to my left. There was a group of men and women playing some kind of silly game. I thought it might be fun to join them.
***
UPDATE: Added illustration to dream #3, September 28, 2012, 7:25 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
time travel to the water park; gigantic coca-cola glasses; jules-port verne
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was at a water slide amusement park with my mother. We received a phone call from my sister. My sister said she was ready to come to the water park as well. So we left the park and went to meet with my sister.
I was in a house at night. The house had a lot of long hallways. We were now going to head to the water park. But our grandfather was sitting either in the living room, which may have been pitch black, or in some other pitch black room. My sister said we had to avoid my grandpa. He was assuming my sister was staying at home. He'd get really mad if he found out my sister was going to the water park.
We walked outside. It was dark, but a lot of snow was falling, and with the orange streetlamps and falling snow, the sky and air looked purple. I was walking out to the car. There were actually three or four cars in the driveway. My grandpa was standing out by the cars. Somehow my sister had managed to avoid my grandpa's view.
We were now driving through the snow. It was maybe late afternoon, and the sky was a dim grey. I told my sister I didn't know if we'd be able to go back to the water park today. It didn't make sense to me that the park would be open if it was snowing like this. But my sister said it didn't matter and that we would be fine.
I didn't believe my sister. But as we continued driving, all the snow disappeared. It was still cloudy outside, but I could tell that it had become a lot warmer. But something else had changed: it was like we had traveled back in time twenty years, to the early 1990s.
I got excited about this and told my sister, "What the heck? We crossed a street, and now we're back in the 1990s!" My sister didn't quite see how I could tell this had happened. I pointed out how all the cars looked a lot different from the cars of 2012. We were in my sister's van. I told my sister, "Everybody must be looking at our car and saying to themselves, 'Wow, that's some kind of Prius.'"
We drove up a road past the water park and toward a Sea World aquarium. The parking lot for the water park was closer to the Sea World than to the water park. My sister was worried that we weren't going to find a good parking space.
As my sister expressed her worries, I saw Shamu, the killer whale mascot of Sea World, jump upward at least 10 meters. I was really excited and I pointed out the sight to my sister. Then another killer whale jumped around in its tank, though not much above the level of the water. I also looked up into the air to see some person atop a pole like a mast on a sailing ship.
Regarding my sister's worries that we wouldn't find a parking space, I said that, at this time of day, toward 3 PM, a lot of people were already getting ready to leave the water park. Plus the weather wasn't so great (it seemed to be getting cold again). So a lot of people were probably leaving on that account, too.
We had parked, and we were now walking toward the water park. We were walking along a sidewalk that seemed to be going along a botanical gardens rather than a water park. As we walked, my mom called us up. She may have been trying to figure out where we were, as if she were coming in her own vehicle to meet us.
It now seemed like my sister and I were walking with a whole lot of baggage and garbage, like we were walking, but we were still inside a vehicle, but the vehicle was just crammed with garbage. We also seemed to have a bunch of stuff like folding chairs with us.
Now my mom was with me and my sister. For some reason my mom had taken my phone and was looking at all my photos. She had found some video I'd accidentally taken on the phone while my sister and I had been walking toward the water park.
In the video, my sister and I were talking about my mom, mainly about the logistics for meeting her. There was nothing offensive about the things we were saying, but my mom still took offense. I got mad at my mom and asked for my phone back. This seemed to offend my mom as well. I was getting really frustrated.
Dream #2
Some party had just ended. I was walking back and forth between a living room and a kitchen. Neither the kitchen nor the living room seemed quite normal -- like they were really big, but unfinished. They almost had the feeling of a convention center.
My mom was in the kitchen, talking with one of her best friends. She was talking about some way in which she'd been competitive with me and won. It made me feel a little bit defeated. I thought to myself that when it came to my relationship with my mom, there was really just no way I could win. There was some girl I was interested in romantically. But I felt that because I could never win against my mother, it would be no use starting up a relationship with the girl I liked.
I had walked back out into the living room. But now I was coming back into the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open. I was thinking about grabbing some food for a meal, maybe dinner. But now the kitchen was outdoors, out on a street like a street in a downtown area. Just down the street from us, a parade was finishing up. The parade was probably in celebration of the same event for which the party had been celebrated.
One float in the parade, maybe the final float, was two gigantic glasses of Coca-Cola. The glasses were maybe 5 meters tall, and full of real Coke and huge ice cubes. I had been thirsty and I'd been trying to decide what I'd like to drink. Now I thought I might like a Coke -- but not from the huge glasses, of course!, I told myself. I went to the refrigerator and found a couple of cans of Coke. I grabbed a can.
Dream #3
I was out in a vacant lot in some downtown area. There were two women and a man out in the vacant lot with me. The women and man were young professionals. We all headed toward a fence at the front of the vacant lot and then over to the right, where the fence opened to let us out.
All this time, I was looking at a thin paperback novel. The novel had pulpy cover art. The cover art and yellowed pages, with a turquoise edging, made the paperback look like it was from the 1950s or 1960s. The novel was something like -- though possibly not exactly -- Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days.
I got the idea that this story was about a scientist who had been funded for taking a trip around the world. During his trip, the scientist actually used his own inventions as means of travel. But at one point in the trip, one of the scientist's invented vehicles broke down.
I saw a line-drawing illustration of this scene. The scientist had flowing, dramatic hair and a thick, flowing mustache. He was very muscular. He seemed to be waist- or chest-deep in water. I read the caption for this illustration -- which may have been in the book or on the back cover of the book, as a kind of teaser for the book itself. The caption said that the scientist had the fortitude to continue on despite his struggles, and that he was funding the repair of his vehicle out of his own "laboratory funds."
As the four of us reached the opening in the fence and hairpinned our way around it, I looked at the cover of the book. The cover gave Verne's name as Jules-Port Verne. I felt a sense of relief at this. I remembered that for the longest time, I always knew Verne as J.P. Verne, without knowing Verne's full name. I'd always had a vague feeling that the J stood for Jules. But I'd never known that the P stood for Port. I also hadn't wanted to admit the shortcoming in my knowledge to the three other people I was with. I thought they'd probably know Verne's full name right off the bat and think of me as a fool for not knowing Verne's full name.
Dream #1
I was at a water slide amusement park with my mother. We received a phone call from my sister. My sister said she was ready to come to the water park as well. So we left the park and went to meet with my sister.
I was in a house at night. The house had a lot of long hallways. We were now going to head to the water park. But our grandfather was sitting either in the living room, which may have been pitch black, or in some other pitch black room. My sister said we had to avoid my grandpa. He was assuming my sister was staying at home. He'd get really mad if he found out my sister was going to the water park.
We walked outside. It was dark, but a lot of snow was falling, and with the orange streetlamps and falling snow, the sky and air looked purple. I was walking out to the car. There were actually three or four cars in the driveway. My grandpa was standing out by the cars. Somehow my sister had managed to avoid my grandpa's view.
We were now driving through the snow. It was maybe late afternoon, and the sky was a dim grey. I told my sister I didn't know if we'd be able to go back to the water park today. It didn't make sense to me that the park would be open if it was snowing like this. But my sister said it didn't matter and that we would be fine.
I didn't believe my sister. But as we continued driving, all the snow disappeared. It was still cloudy outside, but I could tell that it had become a lot warmer. But something else had changed: it was like we had traveled back in time twenty years, to the early 1990s.
I got excited about this and told my sister, "What the heck? We crossed a street, and now we're back in the 1990s!" My sister didn't quite see how I could tell this had happened. I pointed out how all the cars looked a lot different from the cars of 2012. We were in my sister's van. I told my sister, "Everybody must be looking at our car and saying to themselves, 'Wow, that's some kind of Prius.'"
We drove up a road past the water park and toward a Sea World aquarium. The parking lot for the water park was closer to the Sea World than to the water park. My sister was worried that we weren't going to find a good parking space.
As my sister expressed her worries, I saw Shamu, the killer whale mascot of Sea World, jump upward at least 10 meters. I was really excited and I pointed out the sight to my sister. Then another killer whale jumped around in its tank, though not much above the level of the water. I also looked up into the air to see some person atop a pole like a mast on a sailing ship.
Regarding my sister's worries that we wouldn't find a parking space, I said that, at this time of day, toward 3 PM, a lot of people were already getting ready to leave the water park. Plus the weather wasn't so great (it seemed to be getting cold again). So a lot of people were probably leaving on that account, too.
We had parked, and we were now walking toward the water park. We were walking along a sidewalk that seemed to be going along a botanical gardens rather than a water park. As we walked, my mom called us up. She may have been trying to figure out where we were, as if she were coming in her own vehicle to meet us.
It now seemed like my sister and I were walking with a whole lot of baggage and garbage, like we were walking, but we were still inside a vehicle, but the vehicle was just crammed with garbage. We also seemed to have a bunch of stuff like folding chairs with us.
Now my mom was with me and my sister. For some reason my mom had taken my phone and was looking at all my photos. She had found some video I'd accidentally taken on the phone while my sister and I had been walking toward the water park.
In the video, my sister and I were talking about my mom, mainly about the logistics for meeting her. There was nothing offensive about the things we were saying, but my mom still took offense. I got mad at my mom and asked for my phone back. This seemed to offend my mom as well. I was getting really frustrated.
Dream #2
Some party had just ended. I was walking back and forth between a living room and a kitchen. Neither the kitchen nor the living room seemed quite normal -- like they were really big, but unfinished. They almost had the feeling of a convention center.
My mom was in the kitchen, talking with one of her best friends. She was talking about some way in which she'd been competitive with me and won. It made me feel a little bit defeated. I thought to myself that when it came to my relationship with my mom, there was really just no way I could win. There was some girl I was interested in romantically. But I felt that because I could never win against my mother, it would be no use starting up a relationship with the girl I liked.
I had walked back out into the living room. But now I was coming back into the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open. I was thinking about grabbing some food for a meal, maybe dinner. But now the kitchen was outdoors, out on a street like a street in a downtown area. Just down the street from us, a parade was finishing up. The parade was probably in celebration of the same event for which the party had been celebrated.
One float in the parade, maybe the final float, was two gigantic glasses of Coca-Cola. The glasses were maybe 5 meters tall, and full of real Coke and huge ice cubes. I had been thirsty and I'd been trying to decide what I'd like to drink. Now I thought I might like a Coke -- but not from the huge glasses, of course!, I told myself. I went to the refrigerator and found a couple of cans of Coke. I grabbed a can.
Dream #3
I was out in a vacant lot in some downtown area. There were two women and a man out in the vacant lot with me. The women and man were young professionals. We all headed toward a fence at the front of the vacant lot and then over to the right, where the fence opened to let us out.
All this time, I was looking at a thin paperback novel. The novel had pulpy cover art. The cover art and yellowed pages, with a turquoise edging, made the paperback look like it was from the 1950s or 1960s. The novel was something like -- though possibly not exactly -- Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days.
I got the idea that this story was about a scientist who had been funded for taking a trip around the world. During his trip, the scientist actually used his own inventions as means of travel. But at one point in the trip, one of the scientist's invented vehicles broke down.
I saw a line-drawing illustration of this scene. The scientist had flowing, dramatic hair and a thick, flowing mustache. He was very muscular. He seemed to be waist- or chest-deep in water. I read the caption for this illustration -- which may have been in the book or on the back cover of the book, as a kind of teaser for the book itself. The caption said that the scientist had the fortitude to continue on despite his struggles, and that he was funding the repair of his vehicle out of his own "laboratory funds."
As the four of us reached the opening in the fence and hairpinned our way around it, I looked at the cover of the book. The cover gave Verne's name as Jules-Port Verne. I felt a sense of relief at this. I remembered that for the longest time, I always knew Verne as J.P. Verne, without knowing Verne's full name. I'd always had a vague feeling that the J stood for Jules. But I'd never known that the P stood for Port. I also hadn't wanted to admit the shortcoming in my knowledge to the three other people I was with. I thought they'd probably know Verne's full name right off the bat and think of me as a fool for not knowing Verne's full name.
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