Recent DJ Posts

Bela Lugosi as Dracula, waltzing with a woman in a long pale dress. I'm seeing them in black and white, like a movie.

A late-for-school dream - usually for me those are about feeling unprepared, but this one was much more positive. IRL setting, I'm outside when I see the bus pull up, and while most of my school supplies are inside, I have a few necessities with me, a notebook lying in the snow, so rather than go back inside for all my things and miss the bus for sure, I grab what I have and sprint for it. I miss it anyway, but the bus for the middle school pulls up behind it and they're heading in the same direction, so as it pulls away, I jump on the back and hold on, intending to switch to the high school bus when there's a chance. We hit a fork in the road and we lose the bus I want, but I'm confident I can meet up with it later.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Lady Liberty's torch being referred to poetically as the light of 2 things, one being the light of reason.

I'm John Constantine, in a bar, showing off by handing out predictions. It's a con, they're all just stuff I made up. But what I didn't know at the time was, by speaking predictions in that particular place, specifically by putting them in words, I was dooming them to come true. If I'd known, I would've come up with something nicer for myself. Made some (Hannibal-inspired) reference to a 'red dragon' I would have left out.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

A separated or divorced couple, the ex-wife calls her ex-husband to ask if their oldest is with him. The dream 'camera' changes to show their youngest of 3, sleeping in a crib in the father's home; he's got a vestigial tail. They intend to have this surgically removed, but it hasn't been done yet. His paternal grandmother is standing over the cradle, thinking about that tail, and holding a gun in her hand. The father comes in then and stops her; the mother, still on the phone, hears enough to get an idea of what's going on, and she thinks, 'She's not wrong. Our species is a threat to yours.'

There's this man I'm hanging around waiting to talk to. He'd said something about an old massacre involving the Minoans, and how events are about to repeat themselves, and asked me to wait around. But I'm getting impatient, and the longer I wait, the more I'm convinced that this is all nonsense anyway. Finally I get up to leave, and ask this other guy, this kind of hanger-on, to give his boss the message that I couldn't wait.

Instead, he tries to convince me to stay. He starts talking about how that Minoan disaster wasn't my fault, that I shouldn't have blamed myself for my inaction, that I couldn't have stopped it even if I'd stuck around, but that if I run from my sense of guilt now, I'm just going to make sure those events repeat themselves. Annoyed by all this, I make fun of him as I try to shake him off and leave, but he follows me out to my car. He talks about the time I married into the family of Lot and found the women practicing strange magic, and in my horror, slaughtered them, including my bride. He talks - and eventually, sings, operatically - about this long litany of disasters caused by running from my guilt. This ends in an operatic pronouncement of doom as I finally drive off.