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I live with two guys, one plays musical instruments and talks about his synthesizer while grabbing his saxophone, I think they might be robots.

We were having dinner in the dark, I'm not sure if they noticed that the dinning room lights weren't on, I forced myself to wake up when ot became super dark.

Non-dream stuff - only a small non-lucid fragment, as I didn't wake early enough to keep track of dreams properly.

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Dream fragment:
I remember being at a dining table, with my parents and my partner. We were having something typical; peeled boiled potatoes with salmon or pollock. My partner was actually eating some of it, despite not enjoying fish in reality.

I asked to be passed the olive oil, to pour on my potatoes, and my partner made some comment about the fact that it was my the first time eating this kind of meal, which in the dream I thought it was a really odd comment, since I'd eaten this with my parents many times before.

Don't really remember much else apart from the fact that the dining room was not like any I know, and was quite large, with the table at the centre. There was a lamp that was on, above the table. The room seemed well lit but I have the impression it would be night outside.

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I am in what seems to be a dorm room set up for three people, although there are only two of us living there. Above the doorways, I can see red text continually scrolling by, which is then replaced by new text—records of conversations, it seems. On the walls, there are a few posters, different pictures, but all with the words “conserve merriment” at the bottom. This is a reference to something familiar to the person I am in the dream. I walk from the room where I am to the one where my flatmate is sitting.

He/she—this person seems rather androgynous, and the dream itself offers no clues—wants to know if I’m interested in going to do something with him/her. I reflect that I do seem to have been learning more from the things I spend my free time doing than from my actual classes. But I still feel reluctant. It has to do with things I experienced before getting here, I tell my flatmate. In a way, it’s like I’m telling about everything that’s happened to me up until now, but all compressed into a sentence or two—a lifetime spent as a fugitive, never being able to stay in any one place for long, just one bad thing after another.

And then he/she replies: “Is that all?” And actually, when you put like that, it really doesn’t seem so bad. Sure, I guess I’ll go to your thing.

We then talk for a bit about the place we’re at, which is called Campa Piri, and another place I can’t remember the name of now. Then I find myself reading a transcript of the conversation rather than experiencing it. I glance a bit further on, where we’re talking about yet another nearby place called Stone Sway and joking about how it totally sounds like a double entendre. And at that point, I wake up.

In the next dream of the night, I also seem to be a different person—a young boy staying at a large house with a group of other people, all adults, apparently. There was a lot that happened in the early parts of this dream that I can no longer remember, but it seemed to involve finding some kind of special thing in this house—I want to say it was a book, but I’m not entirely sure, and so from here on out it will be known as the MacGuffin.

We are all preparing to leave, and it seems that my uncle—my actual uncle, the only familiar person in this dream—is going to be taking the MacGuffin back with him. I don’t like this: I think that it would be better off in the hands of literally anyone else in the world, and it really ought to stay in the house here. But he’s intent on it and, as usual, impervious to arguments.

He’ll also be taking all the paintings that were in the dining room. It’s a wood-paneled room with a long, wooden table in the middle of it, and pretty much all the space on the walls was taken up with paintings, which illustrated various stories. But now he has them stacked in a closet there, ready to be taken out to the car. I’m not happy about this either. I tell him that he wouldn’t have the space to hang them up, and they’d probably just sit in his house, not even properly stored. He claims he’ll hang them up, but I don’t believe him. What strikes me as particularly unfair about this is that it was only by means of the paintings that we had managed to understand the MacGuffin’s true nature and gain possession of it—possibly from some dark sorcerer type, but that’s also escaped my memory. If the paintings aren’t available, the MacGuffin may never be able to make its way into the hands of someone more suitable in the future.

But then it occurs to me—I can make sure the paintings never make it to his house. There are many people here who also feel this isn’t right, and with their cooperation, we can have the paintings mysteriously back on their walls. Maybe we can spook him into returning the MacGuffin. I pull someone aside to tell them my idea, and pretty soon, the plan is ready to be put into action. But we need a diversion so we can get our hands on the paintings.

It’s announced that I’m going to be talking about a painting in a nearby room, and so everybody—minus a few co-conspirators—files in and sits down in rows of chairs. I have the painting there at the front of the room: a fairly small one of a winter scene with trees. I begin talking. I am a kid and don’t know a thing about painting, but I confidently B.S. my way through it.

Just as I’m explaining how the branches of the trees in the painting are reminiscent of the branches of knowledge, continually reaching out and producing new shoots, an older man with short, white hair stands up and approaches me. He is a professor of art history, and he thinks that the branches are nothing of the sort. I tell him that that’s what one of my philosophy professors had said about them. I definitely have the impression that he, too, is in on it, and that this, too, is part of the diversion.

Once I’m done, we head out towards the door. This requires us to pass through the dining room, which I had forgotten about, but I see that the walls there are still bare. That’s good—right now, it’s still too early. But I’m sure the paintings will be back up once everyone’s gone through.

16.2.18

False awakening. I thought I'd woken up, and was in the shower with a portable heater pointed at my face. I could see and feel the glow. I looked away, and suddenly it was standing on top of the door handle. I found this so bizarre, I concluded this couldn't be real. I shook my head to try and wake up, and sure enough, I woke up in bed. The real one.

I was at the top of a large tower (ancient Persian). I'm on this round terrace built all around the top of the tower. There is no guardrail, but I hold on to the supporting pillars (the ones holding up the ceiling) as I clamber around the tower. I'm quite scared of heights. I find no way to get inside the tower. Once I had climbed around it twice, I suddenly see open doors (I feel with my hand to make sure it isn't just a window) and walk inside. The inside is a rather roomy dining hall of sorts, way too large to fit into such a small structure. I'm not sure if the following happened before or after the tower. Claire was there, in the dining room, standing by others. but I felt like she (and those others) were of a "higher caste" and thus out of my reach. I did try to get near her and interact with her, but never actually directly tried to seduce her as I feel it is hopeless. As usual. In an earlier scene (I think, the order of memories is a little vague), I think there were a lot of people, including old friends (Fenn & Barra) and people from school, and I think we were grouping up or something, for some kind of challenge. The tower thing?

Morning of August 1, 2015. Saturday.



In my dream, I find myself in an unknown composite, atypical, and possibly a mix of Rose Street and North Monroe Street, though another location is added later on. I am seemingly in a house visiting people I do not really know (or recognize in conscious afterthought) at all, possibly my presence based on a friend knowing this family. There is a man and his wife, probably in their thirties and they have at least three teenage daughters. In some ways, this is the opposite of a typical imposer dream in that I feel as if I am imposing in this one (rather than people I do not know “invading” our home), which is so rare, I cannot recall the last time this situation occurred in this particular manner.

I am sitting in a cloth-upholstered armchair (not a recliner or at least not open as one) in what I am guessing is a large dining room. The large rectangular dining table with a dark brown veneer surface is longways from the wall (and against it on the opposite end) directly facing to my side of the room. It takes me awhile to realize that I am not dressed and just have a sheet around me. Still, not only does no one seem to notice, the married couple seem to be somewhat impatient or concerned about my not being at the table yet (though not angrily so; they are quite cordial and welcoming). The unknown female has apparently put a lot of effort in preparing a large meal and I feel slightly bad about not being certain if I really want to sit down with them (especially as I am only in a sheet). At the same time, I notice that there are only six places set across from each other (none on the edge opposite the wall though there would be room for one extra setting there otherwise), and this does not at all seem to be enough space for all of us (considering that there are also a few other guests around my age, it seems, though they may not actually all be staying).

I feel that the food should not go to waste, though I tell them I have to use their bathroom (mainly so that I may get dressed even though they still do not seem to care at all even though they are devout Christians). When I go into the bathroom, I am aware that it is actually the room I stayed in on Loomis Street when first moving from Florida in the summer of 1978. Through the doorway (south) is the (wrongly placed) dining room I had just left and to my right (west), instead of the door into the very large closet that adjoins the two bedrooms, it appears to be an open door that leads to a small unlit room that is also adjacent to the dining room. Also, there is no curtain on the south doorway, so I am directly exposed to people walking around in the dining room, who are seemingly becoming concerned at me not coming out yet. There is actually a toilet in the room directly facing the south doorway. I stand in this area trying to put clothes on (which were apparently absentmindedly left by another male) though people keep coming in and interrupting me, albeit either cheerfully or absentmindedly. This includes my sister-in-law Cindy (appearing as she did about twenty years ago) coming in from the west doorway and Zsuzsanna’s half-brother Simon coming in from the south doorway at different times.

Finally, the three girls come in and start yelling at each other and punching each other in the stomach. Then the mother comes in after a couple minutes and yells at all of them, and then all four of them are all wrestling around on the floor and rolling around and fighting and kicking (though I am not sure why). I decide I have had enough of this and will not stay for dinner after all and will just leave in a sheet. I have no desire to get involved in whatever issues they have with each other.

My dream’s ending was mainly environmentally scripted by at least two girls arguing outside our window (while they were walking down the footpath) when I was sleeping, as has happened in the past, thus changing the nature of my dream. The rest of my dream was likely heavily influenced by two Jehovah’s Witnesses (male and female) knocking on the door quite early around the same time period, as my wife had told me they left a paper which she immediately tossed away.

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I walk into my grandmas house, the door leads right to her kitchen. This girl I don't know is blocking me from getting to the rest of the house so I have to stay in the kitchen. The girl has her back to me so I just see her purple tank top and her long wavy black hair and she's taller than me. I see my grandma blocked on the other part of the house by the living room because this boy and girl are sitting at the dining room table blocking the walking path. The boy points out to his sister that he had posted some pics of him and her and the girls sitting next to him gets pissed at him for posting them. Which lead me to make eye contact with her and I got nervous and tried to hide behind this girl in front of me and I bumped her on accident and she turned around. She is wearing aviator glasses and lenses are like a mirror and I see bloody puss coming out of my piercings in the reflection of her glasses so I clean my piercings in the reflection and the girl just stays there for me to use her glasses, and I can see in the corner of my eye that the girl at the table is trying to look around this girl to see who I am but she's too pretty so I keep repositioning, and then my grandma finally gets through the block and now the kitchen is really jammed and I squeeze my way back outside.

I am in a house with my Hubby, it's our house but it's a bit different only the dining room is the same. I go into the dining room and push all the chairs back under the table and tidy up. I walk into the kitchen to get a cloth to wipe the table, I walk back to the dining room and when I reach the doorway I nearly have a heart attack because the table has been pushed up against the unit and the chairs from that side have been placed into the Center of the room. I can now feel the bad ghost that always haunts my dreams and I scream "ohhh my god, it's here again!!!!!" I think to myself "this is like the film poltergeist" I shout my hubby to come and have a look and he does. I now run upstairs and feel the ghost thing next to me...it's the most god-awfull feeling in the world!!! It now suddenly goes all dark. I look about the dark room and see candles placed about in there, I pick one up to help me see but now it's changed into a crappy little torch, the light from it is very dull. I make my way back to the dining room...I'm scared because I can feel the really nasty presence so I quickly walk past the dining room so it can't get me. My eldest daughter L comes over and says "weird" I say "why" she says "it went dark as soon as you felt the ghost again". I am now standing at the bottom of the stairs, I'm talking to J, my husbands sister, she has short hair and looks very different, we are waiting for someone to come and get rid of the ghost. There is a glass door to my left and someone suddenly bangs on it. I can see a mans figure through the glass, J shouts "hang on" then he bangs the glass harder but this time he's banging on it with his hammer, I now think "SHIT!!" then J shouts to him "fuckin hang on I said!!!" then he comes in and it's Russell Howard, I then wake up.

Last nights dream

I am in the dining room, I have a glass table with a leather piece in the middle and I am turning it around. The leather part in the middle doesn't match with the line in the wallpaper, I couldn't line it up to match. I decide to turn it back around again but then it's wrong again, it's the same way as it was before I turned it, I'm now looking at it and thinking " how the bloody hell has that happened?"