maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out on some road that appeared to be on a building top. I may have been standing outside at first. But, at least eventually, I was inside a vehicle, possibly a van. I was with some man and someone like my mom. The day was really sunny, maybe hot.

I saw an airplane flying up through the air, just after it had lifted off. But the back end of the airplane was shaped just like the back end of a space shuttle. The whole airplane may have been white and red, with a shiny, plasticky look.

I got kind of freaked out because the airplane had had the back end of a space shuttle. I thought the craft should be lifting up into the air much faster if it were a shuttle. I got the eerie feeling that it would start lifting quickly up into the air very soon. But something about the fact that it kept not lifting up into the air had me really panicked.

One of the people with me, probably the man, may have tried to convince me that the craft weren't actually a shuttle, and that its back end didn't actually look like that of a shuttle.

I looked over the building we were on. There was a space shuttle posed in front of the building, on some kind of metal-frame, like a statue. I tried to compare the craft in the air and the shuttle on the ground.

I must have been satisfied. We started driving away from the scene. I felt afraid to look back at the craft in the air. We passed some large passenger plane that looked normal. It gave me a huge sense of the relief, as if the craft in the air were normal.

We were now driving around on some tarmac, possibly at the foot of the building we had been on. We drove past one experimental plane. I knew about this whole place, and I knew about these experimental planes. I told the man about this plane. The man may now have been someone like my mom's old boyfriend.

We drove past another experimental plane. This one was all clear, like it was just a thin, metal skeleton covered over with the clear material that makes the walls of a greenhouse.

The plane was kind of needle-shaped, with something about it reminiscent of the Blackbird. It also had something to its design very much like the grid pattern underlying some computer animations. The plane also had a logo on its side saying "Scoop Technologies."

I told the man something about this plane as well, like I was a little kid showing off how smart I was to an adult man. We then passed another plane which may have been much, much larger than the clear craft. We then passed another experimental craft, which I may also have explained to the man.

Dream #2

I was in some building, on the second floor, laying on my stomach on the floor, staring out a window-wall. Below was some kind of small courtyard, floored with stone tiles, edged around with little gardens and trees, with some leafs blowing across the tiles.

Two girls were down in the courtyard area. They may have been in their early teens. They were both dressed in costumes. The costumes were like older European dresses, like from the Elizabethan era or a bit later than that. But the colors of the costumes were very bright, like Sailor Moon uniforms.

One of the girls saw me looking down at them. She ran up to the building, jumped all the way up to the window, and tapped her hand against the glass. The girl apparently liked me, and she was trying to let me know.

The girl was now back on the ground with her friend. The two girls spoke with each other for a moment. I couldn't believe the girl had managed to jump high enough to tap the window. I wanted her to do it again. But I also wanted her to do it again so I could make sure she liked me.

I tapped on the glass and waved the girl back to me. The girl came wandering back up to the building. The other girl warned the girl not to jump up to the window, since she'd get hurt really bad if she slipped and fell.

This time she didn't jump up to the window. She climbed up something like a thin, metal drain-pipe that had little pieces of metal like ladder-rungs running up it. The wall was red stone (so red it almost looked painted), and the drain-pipe and "ladder-rungs" were the same color.

The girl got up to the window and touched my hand.

Now the girl was down on the ground with her friend, a ways away from the building. The girl stood near a waist-high, silvery metal column. The girl lifted up her skirt and draped it over this column. She then kind of leaned over the column, so her torso was parallel with the ground.

I was now sitting somewhere, possibly on the roof of a building, with two women. We had a bunch of stuff with us like we were taking a trip to the beach. I sat on the floor, on a towel. There were a few other big beach towels all around me. On either side of me there were long beach chairs and tall parasols.

One of the women was my friend H's friend Y. Y sat on the edge of one of the beach chairs. Y was telling the other woman, in a different language, how she liked me, but how it seemed like all I ever did was study and think about intellectual things. Y wondered if I could possibly like her at all.

I spoke to Y in English, not letting on that I'd understood everything she'd just said in the foreign language, but letting her know that I was interested in her. But I then got worried about showing her any more of my feelings. H was coming back soon. And H liked me. She couldn't think I liked Y.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was at my great grandmother's house. My great grandma (who IWL passed away about two years ago) was sitting in an armchair near her front door. My sister sat at a footstool near the chair. There were other family members in the house, as if we were having a gathering or party of some kind.

My great grandma was showing us photos from a big photo album she had. The photo album had black covers, and the pages were letter-size, clear plastic page sleeves, probably with a black "backing" set into each sleeve. Each page had one photograph, which was as big as a letter-size piece of paper.

The photos were from my great grandfather's time of service in the Air Force. Apparently he had fought in World War II. My great grandma and/or my sister told how my great grandpa would send these photos home in letters. The letters would be kind of cheerful, not hinting at any danger my great grandpa was experiencing.

My great grandma had put all these photos into a book and then had then captioned each one in the same kind of cheerful, breezy tone that my great grandpa had used in his letters.

My great grandma now laughed. She said that, looking back on these photo captions, she was shocked at how naive and silly they sounded, and how they trivialized the hard experiences my great grandpa had had in the war. We all laughed.

My sister took the book. She may have had the intention either of putting the book away or of showing us the pictures, but not reading any of the captions. I asked my sister, a little forcibly, if I could see the book. I wanted to read some of the captions aloud. After my great grandma's story, the captions seemed like the most interesting thing of all.

I sat down on a footstool on the other side of the room from my sister. I looked through the pages. Some photos had captions on their bottom edges, typed in. Others had captions written on the backs of the photos, scrawled out in big letters with some purplish pencil. Others had a combination of typing and handwriting.

I now started actually looking at the photos. I was stunned when I saw a photo of a jet fighter, like an F-4 or an F-16. The fighter was on the ground, and it was largely hidden from view by big vehicles like trucks, so I only saw the nose, cockpit, and two rectangular air intake valves on either side of the nose.

I looked at the back side of the photograph. It said F-15 and something like "Flurry or Fury" or "Fluffy or Fury." The word "Fury" was then repeated. This was all typed, centered, at the top of the page, as if by an official agency. There was a little bit more official text, followed by a lot of scrawled out writing from my great grandma.

I stuttered to my family, "This -- this -- must be one of the first uses of jet fighters in actual combat situations!"

My great grandma nodded in affirmation.

I then flipped through some more pages. One group of photos showed some kind of switchboard area. Women were working the switchboards. There was one photo with a woman with dark hair, in a 1940s style, curly, down to about her shoulders. The woman wore a uniform, but I don't remember if she wore a hat. She may have been wearing small, round eyeglasses.

I said, again in surprise, that this was one of the first groups of women to be used for something like strategic or technological operations.

Dream #2

I was walking into a really busy clothing store, coming in behind a big group of people. There were racks full of clothes as soon as we came in the doors. The people in front of me kind of filtered out to different areas of the store. A little girl in a cheerful-patterned, red and white dress followed the people.

I basically went to some set of clothes racks with panties on display. There were some other people there. Two were a couple, a young man and a young woman. They both looked kind of well-off. I was afraid they would think I was a pervert for being here. I also worried whether the parents of the little girl I'd seen would think I was a pervert.

Dream #3

A song. A guitar played a nice sounding, strumming melody with a solid, but relaxed rhythm. I took this to be the foreground music. Then another stringed instrument (???) Would come in occasionally and add a little riff that sounded a bit like that "Brazil" song from the movie... um... Brazil, by Terry Gilliam.

(This dream was actually from two nights ago. I don't remember any dreams from last night.)

I was in the belltower of a building like a mission-style church, with adobe or stucco walls. I saw a crowd of people below. Some were milling around. Some may have been looking up at me. I told myself at some point that I was in Korea.

While in the tower, I may actually have been conversing (mentally? non-verbally?) with a man down on the ground. The man was shortish, mediun-build, slightly balding Korean man wearing eyeglasses, a pale polo shirt and pale jeans. The man may have been a family member of mine.

In the middle of our "conversation," I looked up to the sky and pointed. There was a sudden atmosphere of panic. Then a huge, white jet flew into our view.

The jet was so long, narrow, and white, that I at first thought it was a nuclear missle. It had two fin-like objects prtruding from its nose. But then, as the object sped over me, I could see that it was just an enormous, very thin, white jet with thin, squarish wings.

The jet made a lot of noise and then passed out of view of the church. I may have feared the jet was going to crash once it was out of view. I'm not sure whether the jet crashed.

I was now writing a review of this whole thing, as if writing about an air show for an online newspaper.

I was now a little girl. I was writing (actually, more like thinking out my article or "remembering" the article "I had written) about the man with whom I had been conversing as if he were the organizer of this show.

I was giving the man a bad review. In the middle of the review, however, the man stopped me. He was now my (the little girl's) father. He was white, tall, strong, with tan skin and blonde hair. He sat on steps (leading up to the bell?) and grabbed my arms gently.

He shook me a little and asked me to tell him why I had said those things about him. I don't know why I wasn't answering -- maybe I felt like being rude. He then started asking me about the big jet, and what kind of jet I thought it was.

I told him (it was now like I was looking out from the belltower or some balcony) that it wasn't a --, because I had actually seen stealth bombers flying over New York City on a number of occasions. I corrected myself, thought slowly, and said, "No. I mean Blackbirds."

I don't know whether the man/"my daddy(which is what I called him -- daddy)" believed me, but he took me to a big area full of jets. I figured that now I'd be able to point the Blackbird out to him.

We drove through what looked like a vast parking lot full of jets. The place seemed to be completely void of people. There might have been some huge structures around, the walls or building-top bridges of which occasionally shaded the parked jets.

We curved counter-clockwise into another aisle of parked jets. I saw a jet that looked a little like a Blackbird. So I pointed it out to the man as a Blackbird.

But it wasn't quite right. It looked too small. It looked plasticky. And it also looked flat, as if the jet had been flipped upside-down or had its top shaved off. It seemed to have three rectangular holes in it, too, like it was a jet-sized light switch.

We were driving down the parking lot. I may have seen more jets that almost looked like Blackbirds. The man and I were driving toward some area that seemed to have a small, rickety, metal staircase going up the side of it. I could feel the warmth of the sun.