maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out in front of my great grandmother's house in the daytime. I stood looking in through her front window, which IWL was too high for me to look right into.

My great grandma appeared in the window. I probably knew that she was dead. I think I had the feeling that this was either a dream or some kind of paranormal experience allowing me to see my grandma. So I just told myself to keep calm and let things happen.

My grandma slid up the window, as if this were a double-paned window, which it was not IWL. I believe I asked my grandma how she was doing. I didn't believe she would give me an answer, as my "imagination" wouldn't be good enough to "create" a spontaneous answer from her.

But my grandma did answer. She very gently said she was doing fine, but that she was here more to get an idea of how I personally was doing. She told me I should be more concerned about that as well.

My grandma said she had to go take care of something in the house. She may have directed me to come into the house.

I was now in the house, alone my grandma's "guest room," which I spent a lot of time in as a kid. The lights may have been off, but there was natural light coming into the room.

Suddenly I was aware that my mom and my oldest nephew were under the bed. I could hear them talking. I must have felt that they weren't actually quite my mom and my oldest nephew. I felt like they were supposed to scare me somehow.

The lights now went out in the room. I could hear a switch click -- like the daylight coming in through the windows was controlled by a light switch. The room was now dark as night, with just a bit of light coming from the hallway.

My nephew's voice began laughing insidiously, like he was really trying to scare me. I got the feeling that he wasn't really my nephew, but a demon.

I yelled at the voice, "I'm not afraid of you! You can't scare me!"

I got the feeling that the body for the voice had actually transformed into a monster like a Chinese dragon, with something of a human body, and that the monster would soon jump out from under the bed to attack me.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. My mom, one of my nephews, and I stood outside under some kind of shelter, like the shelter over a gas pump island at a gas station. But this shelter was lower, and it seemed a lot brighter underneath, like it was lit with incandescent lights.

There was a lot of stuff under the shelter, like stuff out of a house. The shelter also seemed to be connected either to a house or to a grocery store.

My mom and I had probably come from whatever place the shelter was connected to. I was probably getting ready to leave the shelter altogether, maybe because I felt I needed to.

But now a car like my little brother's car came driving toward me from the building, as if it had been inside the building. The car stopped. It may actually have been driverless. The doors opened. Something like a gust of cold wind may have come out of the car.

I suddenly got the feeling that my actions were hurting somebody's feelings. It may have been my brother. But it may have been a woman, possibly a relative of mine.

I started shivering. Then I started getting a really weird feeling, like I was melting inside. My emotions and my sensations all began quivering and getting really weird. I was shuddering and rubbing my arms. Then I collapsed.

People, probably including my mom, may have helped me up. They may have walked me into the building, which was now a grocery store, although it was supposed to be a hospital.

I was laid down on a hospital bed that was partly walled-off from the grocery store by a hospital room privacy curtain. The space I was in was cluttered.

I had been told that I had gone through the weird physical moment because I had been dehydrated. I knew that my being dehydrated had something to do with the car.

I don't think I felt terribly tired or bad. I may even have been standing up and walking around. But I had been told I had to stay at the place because the doctors were still observing me, making sure I wasn't suffering anymore of the effects of being dehydrated.

At some point a doctor may have come in to see me. The doctor may have been a woman. Or, possibly, after a male doctor had seen me, a female nurse may have come in to see me.

Whoever the woman was, at some point she was so close to me that it was like she was embracing me. She began telling me something about how some other woman, another doctor or another nurse, was either jealous of the woman or jealous of me.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was probably with my mom and oldest nephew out on a road during the daytime. We were probably driving, but we weren't quite in a car. It was almost like we were walking down the road or on a moving platform. The road ran through a valley bordered on either side by a dense pine forest.

The road was packed with cars. We were all headed, rather slowly, as if in procession, down the road. I probably knew that an airshow was going to start.

Then planes began flying overhead, as if they were just heading over to the airshow, or warming up (?) for the airshow. Some of the planes were flying up from the road.

The car behind us actually lifted up off the ground and flew into the air. The car was painted gold. At first it looked like a 1980s Camaro. But then it ended up looking like the flying car Luke Skywalker drives.

But for some reason I was really excited to see the Camaro-like car flying. I called out to my mom at first. But then I saw one of the senior people at one of my old jobs, JS, walking down the road in the direction opposite the procession. So I called out to JS, partly to show her the flying car, and partly because I was so happy to see her again.

JS may have been walking with a female friend of hers. The two women looked at me kind of sympathetically, like they thought I was crazy but they wanted to act like what I was saying was cool. We both kept walking our different ways.

The road probably ended at some kind of swampy area. A lot of people stood out in the waters, looking out into a watery space columned by trees. Airplanes may have been flying through this space.

I must have tried to go farther out into the water to get a closer view. But I only got a few steps out before the water got a lot deeper, probably up to my chest. This would be too deep for me to be comfortable watching the show. So I decided to walk back.

But it was a little hard to get back. The soil I was walking on was really muddy and sticky, like in a swamp. But the water was crystal clear and never seemed to get dirtied by the water. I was having a hard time moving my legs through the mud.

At some point I saw my second oldest nephew. He may have been standing up on dry ground, near some fence. He may have been kicking something around on the ground.

I may eventually have gotten up on dry ground, or at least to a level of water where I could walk comfortably. But I was probably disappointed that I couldn't get out farther in the water. I may have thought that there was some open space out there where you could stand on dry ground and get a really good view of the planes.

Dream #2

I was at work. Everybody had an office. But the offices were more like dorm rooms. I was probably new to the job. I kept mistaking other people's offices for my own.

At some point I went into an office the doorway of which was blocked by something like a couch. I fell over the couch and into the room. There were a bookshelf, a couch, and probably a desk, all arranged so that the room felt like a maze. On the ceiling was a piece of thin fabric with an orange background and a black, psychedelic mandala design.

Everybody was looking into the room, kind of laughing at me because I had come into the wrong office. I was embarrassed and annoyed, and I tried to cover for myself by pretending that I'd meant to be here.

I may then have ended up back in the hallway, which was small and dark, like some makeshift hallway in the basement of a house. I then ended up in the reception area, which was like an entire living room in a double-wide trailer home. The receptionist's desk was kind of out in the middle of the room.

The receptionist was KB, the receptionist at my work. I sat near her desk, kind of behind her, in a small desk, like a little writing desk made for children. I felt like I was hiding behind KB.

My boss JH came into the room and probably pointed out that I was hiding behind KB. He chuckled at me and said, "Don't you have your own office? Or, what happened to it?" I got the feeling he thought someone else had moved into my office.

I tried to explain that I was only sitting here so I could learn something from KB. But then I was getting up and heading out of the office.

But my boss called me back. He had a bunch of stuff in his hands. He said, "This kind of stuff is no good for the workplace. This is why I'm seriously thinking you might not be good for this job. I even think I found some porn in your office.

"Look at this!" he said, showing me a painting on a canvas that must have been about 30cm long and 20cm wide. It was half-finished, with some edges of it in black and white, not colored in yet. The painting was apparently something I'd made.

The painting was of the forearm of a person, maybe a young boy. The arm held some device that looked like a gold-colored, metallic spray-gun nozzle on a garden hose. But attached to its ends were a red, pump-like ball and a clear, little breathing apparatus.

My boss JH said, "This was for your third oldest nephew, wasn't it? He uses it for his asthma. But kids nowadays -----." Something about what my boss said made me think he thought I was trying to glorify drug use by depicting this device.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in my family's living room. Someone, probably my brother, had just finished watching something on TV.

I was led to believe that I could now watch whatever show I wanted. But I knew this wasn't really true. My brother and probably my mom just wanted me to think I could watch a show that I liked so I'd stay in the living room. But as soon as they knew I'd stay, they's switch my show on me.

I had chosen some old Saturday Night Live episode. But as soon as I saw that my brother and mom were playing a trick on me, I got up and left the living room.

I went down into the basement, into a room that was apparently mine. I could hear the Saturday Night Live episode from upstairs. I knew my brother and mom were now playing the episode really loud, and that they were going to play the whole episode, just to taunt me for not having stayed upstairs.

The room in the basement was pretty empty. It was lit by greyish-white natural light coming in from a window high up on a wall in front of me. My sight was mostly focused on something right in front of me, either a book or a paycheck.

I was now in some busy place in a really busy part of town. I don't know whether I was inside or outside. The place seemed like a fancy kind of bar. But it also seemed to be outside, out on a street like a small town's main street, only as packed with people as a street like Times Square.

My vision was still very focused on one small thing, probably an envelope. I was surprised to have found this envelope. It contained my paycheck. I hadn't expected to receive my paycheck so soon.

I pulled the paycheck out of the envelope. There were a few problems with the writing on the check. The amount for the check was something like $814 or $810 (I wish!). But the way it was written in the side box was all messed up, so that instead of a number, there was something more like a nonsensical word.

I looked over to the line where the amount of the check was written out. This line seemed to be done correctly. But there was one more place on the check where the amount was written out incorrectly. In this spot, the check gave a horribly small number, like $30 or $40.

I knew I was supposed to be getting the amount that had been written out. But I doubted any bank would take such a messed up check. I also worried that if a bank took the check at all, they'd only give me the lower amount. I was sure no bank would give me the benefit of the doubt, since people in places like banks always seem to hate me.

But this was either my first or my last paycheck. It was very important that I have this money. So I needed to get things fixed. I determined to fix things. I thought of going "back" to my job, which may have been some kind of parks job.

But I was now walking away from the main street kind of area with my mother, sister, and niece. I really needed to go talk about my check. But I couldn't let my mom and sister know what I was doing. And my mom and sister wanted to get back home.

My mom and sister were using my niece as an excuse to go home. But my niece didn't want to go home. So, as an excuse to go take care of my check, I told my mom and sister that I'd take my niece back to the main street area of town.

But I got the feeling that my mom and sister now had the idea that I only wanted to take my niece with me so I could do something bad to her. So I didn't push the idea.

We had been walking through a kind of residential area. But now we had turned a corner and were back in a small town main street kind of area. I decided I should be honest. I told my mom and sister that I needed to go see about fixing my check. I also said I needed to get a haircut.

But we were now headed down some red-carpeted steps, down into some fancy restaurant. We were being led by a tall, very pale, blonde man with a little bit of a goatee and stubbled cheeks.

My mom and sister and I had been to this restaurant before for lunch. Either my mom or the young man thought it would be impressive to take us all back to this place for dinner.

But I knew this wouldn't work. During lunch this place was cheap and relatively empty. But at night (it still looked like midday outside) this place became packed with people because of some crazy comedy show. The price of the food also skyrocketed.

But I didn't say anything. We went down through some glass doors and into a nice lobby area. There was another set of glass doors showing a packed dining area -- people almost shoved against the glass doors, and everybody beautiful and in nice attire.

The name of the place was written on the door in gold capital letters. But it was written on the inside of the door, so that from our side of the door, it looked backwards. The name of the place was "EVERYTHING WARHOL." I knew this place served really good Indian food.

A bald man in a tuxedo came out and made a reservation for us for dinner. It was written on a page from a restaurant order's notebook, like you see in diners and so forth. There were a lot of scribbled numbers all over the page.

The man gave the reservation to either my mom or the young man. Nobody even looked at the reservation, just assuming we were going in soon. But I knew we'd have a long wait. Finally I snuck a look at the paper. Amid all the scribbles, I saw our reservation for something like 8:37 PM. It was now around 5:30 PM.

We were all heading back out, with the others in my group thinking we'd be back very soon. But the young man, the last person to go through the first set of doors before I would, stopped in the doorway, the door half-closed on him, and turned to the waiter to ask how long we'd have to wait for a table.

Apparently this restaurant, or at least the staff, was Belgian, or maybe Swedish. The young man asked the waiter, either in English or French, how long our wait would be.

The waiter replied in French (I thought of it as Belgian-French) that the wait would be a little long. He spoke in French because he was sure that the young man wouldn't understand it.

But the young man was either Belgian or had been in Belgium for some time. In fact, he was only striking up a conversation with the waiter because he wanted to impress my mom and sister by showing off his knowledge of French.

The young man had a short conversation with the waiter. The waiter kept saying "peut-etre," or "maybe," which I kept seeing in my head as "petait." I knew the word meant "maybe," but I kept mixing it up with "petite," and thinking the waiter was saying "little," like, "It will be a little wait."

Eventually the young man got the understanding that we'd be waiting three hours for a table. He rubbed the goateed corners of his mouth and walked out the door. I must have followed.

I was now walking out with my mom and my sister in what was supposed to be my great grandma's old neighborhood. We passed my great grandma's house, which had been sold after my great grandma had died. The place was now being remodeled and expanded by the new owners. I could even see sillhouettes of the new owners working inside.

We passed the next house, in which one of my cousins lives with his wife and kids. For some reason, I looked on that house with scorn. I didn't want to have anything to do with those family members.

We kept walking on. My view was more like the sideways tracking of a movie camera. My mom was saying how she'd always liked this neighborhood because it was much safer compared to some other neighborhoods.

I agreed. But something about the sight of my cousin's house made me angry and greedy. All I could think about was buying out every single house on this block, and maybe a few other blocks.

I wanted this area to be completely empty. I could even envision it being empty. This way, I thought, my immediate family could live in happiness, being safe from violence and free from irksome family members.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out on a beach that was packed with people. A lot of people seemed to be out with small contraptions, almost like the rods that would hold up huge umbrellas, but with no umbrellas, and with bases that lay in the sand.

I stood by a little, blonde girl. She was really tiny, but she spoke really well. She wore a leopard print bathing suit and sunglasses. I had asked her her name -- or maybe I'd asked her my name. She responded by telling me I was silly or stupid.

The girl then told me that I'd spoken so much about going into the water. So why was I now just staying out on the beach. I figured the little girl was right. I should go into the water, at least to impress the girl.

But I looked at the water. It was just as packed as the beach was. And it was dirty as hell. It looked like old, used washing machine water. And posts seemed to be sticking up out of it, too.

Dream #2

I was laying on a bed, probably in the living room of a nice apartment or condo in a tall, new building. My mom sat either on the edge of my bed or on a bed that was adjacent to my bed. We were watching some movie. The movie struck me as being a little brutal or gross.

I was either making two sandwiches, or else I had two sandwiches lying before me as I lay on the bed. Each sandwich had its own plate. Both sandwiches were on heroes.

The sandwich nearest me had ham and cheddar cheese. I remembered that I liked the taste of ham with some other meat. So I told my mom I could make our sandwiches with that other meat as well.

But my mom said no, that didn't matter. She seemed to be hungry and annoyed, and she didn't want to worry about complicating things. I felt bad for complicating things. So I decided to leave the sandwich alone.

But I personally wanted the taste of both meats on my sandwich. Then I remembered that the second sandwich had both meats on it. So even if my mom was annoyed by my two-meat idea, I could secretly eat and enjoy a two-meat sandwich.

Dream #3

I was at a dinner table with an older woman, probably my mom. We were in a really nice restaurant that was mostly empty. The table was round, a meter in diameter, with a white tablecloth.

Three older women sat down at a table that was right next to ours, even touching ours. The three women all looked rich. They were all dressed in black.

My mom had a conversation with the women. It sounded pretty intelligent. But I can't remember what it was about. One woman, the one closest to me, was staying rather quiet. I looked at her. She looked really distressed.

I recognized her as Dianne Wiest. But she looked a bit skinnier and older. I wanted to tell her how much I enjoyed her performances in her movies. But I didn't say anything.

Later I was riding in the backseat of a car. My mom was driving, and another woman was up in the front seat with her. My mom said, "Rachel ----- wasn't as talkative as she usually is."

I thought, Rachel -----? I knew my mom was talking about the woman I'd looked at. But I guess I'd gotten the name of the woman wrong.

My mom continued. "Oh, well. Usually she's more open when she's around kids. It brings out more of a feeling of hope in her."

I thought to myself, Well, I'm pretty youthful and exuberant. I can bring out hope in people, too. I should have been a little more outgoing with Rachel.

Dream #4

I walked into a restaurant. It was as enormous as the main area of Grand Central station in NYC. Toward the back, the seating area tiered up. The carpet, and maybe the walls, were green. The tables all had white tablecloths on them. The place was empty.

I walked back to the back tier. I sat down and was now seated with a rich-looking, older-looking man and woman. We ate and spoke cheerfully about something. I was having a good time. But I was trying to play down the fact that I wasn't rich, so that my financial condition wouldn't make the couple dislike me.

I then realized that this was a brand new restaurant that had opened up in a big, abandoned building. I thought of some friends who I always go out to dinner with. I thought they'd be really impressed when I told them I'd come to a restaurant that had just opened.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A man who was probably in his late forties was having me house-sit for him. The man was probably rich. He had a pretty big apartment in Manhattan. He seemed gay, and his face looked a little soft and worn out.

The man showed me around his apartment. The apartment seemed like it could have been in an old building. But it seemed to be in a new building, or at least to be surrounded by a lot of new buildings.

But even though the apartment was big and nice, it was really messy. There was clutter everywhere. Nothing was organized. Everything was so packed together. It didn't seem like a very comfortable place to live.

I walked around the apartment with and without the man. The apartment had two halves, like two wide, narrow rectangles. There must have been more rooms. But the rectangles were wide enough already to give the apartment a lot of space.

At one point I walked through a kitchen. There was a bunch of old garbage in the sink. There was even something that looked like a dead pigeon. It looked all wet and gross, like it was starting to rot. But somehow I determined that the pigeon was a fake pigeon, like a stuffed animal. Since it had never been alive, I thought, it couldn't die and rot.

A little while later I must have thought I was by myself, even though I didn't think the man had gone on his trip yet. I kept looking out the windows of the apartment. There were windows everywhere. I was worried that people would look in and see me, especially while I was doing something gross, like masturbating.

I also worried that some of the man's friends would find that I was house-sitting. I worried that the people would look down on me and make it known to me somehow that they disapproved of the man allowing some low person like myself to house-sit for him.

I may have considered cleaning up the man's house. I may also have considered masturbating. But now the man woke up. I could see him sitting up on a huge but sparse and dishevelled bed in a room full of yellow light. The man and I walked around the house again.

I was now with my brother. We were in a cafeteria on the first floor of the apartment building -- like the building was a new, enormous apartment building or office building. We were getting some food for the man.

My brother then got some food for himself, as the man had told him. I'd also been told to get some food. But I didn't really want anything. But rather than have anybody worry about me, I just decided to get something. But whatever it was I got, I knew it was such junk food that the man and my brother would ridicule me for it.

Dream #2

A boy, maybe five or six years old, stood before me. His back was to me. He only wore a pair of white underwear. It was planned that the boy and I would have sex. But I didn't want to. I didn't want to get in trouble for having sex with a child, and I didn't want to have sex with a male.

But the boy was a part of the whole plan. He was going to make me have sex with him The boy began fondling me and then moving up against me.

The boy was moving his backside so that he was directing me into him. All this time I hoped I'd find my way under his backside and into a vagina, discovering that the boy was actually a girl, so I wouldn't have to be with a boy. But it didn't happen. And, in spite of myself, I was feeling really aroused.

Dream #3

I was with my mom and sister in a car. We had gone to some bookstore. The bookstore was the first branch of a very small chain. The second branch was closing down. So we were visiting the original store to see how it was doing.

But for some reason only my mom went in. It seemed like she was taking a really long time in the store. So I decided to go inside and see what she was doing.

The store was kind of big, but really dingy. The light was a white, fluorescent light. The floors and shelves were grey and old. The place looked more like an old video store than a bookstore.

I found myself in some section selling videos. There was a poster of a bunch of grotesque imagery that I thought was scenes out of a horror film. But it turned out to be a poster for the video Faces of Death. It may actually have been for Faces of Death III.

I now understood that these images were of actual people, dying in really gross ways. Some of the people looked like their bodies and heads were melted. Others were decapitated. Others had gigantic holes gouged through their bodies.

I looked around me. This section was filled with nothing but snuff films and posters for snuff films. I wasn't terribly grossed out. But I decided to get out of the area.

I walked up a small staircase to the back half of the store. The place seemed to be empty, except for a few pieces of exercise equipment, which also seemed to be on sale.

I saw an older, kind of fat man with grey hair, tinted eyeglasses, and a black t-shirt standing somewhere, maybe reflected in a mirror wall. I felt like he would have done something bad to me if I'd gotten close to him. So I turned around and headed out of the store.

As I exited the store I realized that this place was closing down, just like the second branch had closed down. The whole chain of bookstores must have been going out of business. Everything in the store was on sale for clearance prices -- even the exercise equipment.

I was then back in the car with my mom and sister. My mom was driving away. We were heading out of a small parking lot and onto a small road that wound in between two tight, forested hills. My mom and I spoke about how the bookstore chain was shutting down.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was standing on a tall, grey rock. I must have been right at the edge of a residential area that bordered a mountain or forest area.

At first I was possibly looking up at the sky. The sun seemed to be so bright that I had to close my eyes. But at some point I heard my mom and another woman talking in my head. The two women were talking about a thunderstorm.

I looked at the sky. Some heavy, grey-black clouds loomed off to my right, taking up half the sky. I could tell they were thunderclouds. I was really afraid of getting struck by lightning.

I stood down on the ground now. I looked up at the sky again. I noticed that the left half of the sky was somewhat clear. It looked like the storm was getting pushed off to the right. I thought that if I walked more toward my left I could escape any impending lightning strikes.

I ran to my left -- really afraid of a thunderstorm. I ended up in the crevice of a mountain. The landscape all around me was of barren rock. The rock was gritty and dull, kind of like a tannish grey granite. The area sloped downward for a bit, then flattened out, but remained ridged, like a molar tooth.

There were a few other people in this area, mostly men. They seemed to be split up into pairs or threes, almost like fathers and sons. Each group seemed to be engaged in some task.

I eventually ended up at some contraption made out of old wood. The contraption was like a C-shaped frame. It came up about to my chest. There may have been a couple other guys around me.

I heard some people talking, either around me or in my head. The scene may have changed at some point. There had been some discussion of a guy. I asked what had happened to the guy. The person talking (in my head?) said some short phrase that led me to understand that the man had been convicted of murder and executed by hanging.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was lost in "New York City." I was in some part of town full of vacant lots and stout, warehouse-like buildings. It was late afternoon, kind of dim and grey-blue. There were a decent amount of people around.

I wandered in some general direction, maybe following a group of people who seemed to know where they were going. But I think I was beginning to question whether I was even in New York at all.

Eventually I rounded some corner and found a subway stop. The sign of the subway station said something like "Riche St." I knew this stop. It was near Wall St., and it was on the line that ran near my apartment in Brooklyn. (IWL, there is no "Riche St." stop, as far as I know.)

I went down the stairs and into the subway station. The station was completely hollowed out. There were a bunch of mothers and children (probably mostly Latina) in the empty space. Something about the whole environment felt tan or brown, like there was brownish concrete for the floors and walls.

The environment also felt somewhat like a community meeting space, or some kind of preschool place. This may just been because of the mothers and children all gathered together. But it may also have felt a little like an almost revolutionary meeting, kind of like the Communist meeting in Vittorio de Sica's The Bicycle Thief.

A woman started speaking. A loose, random crowd of women and children had gathered around her. Some of the people may possibly have been sitting on the floor. I sat on the floor near the back of the crowd.

I had a good view of the woman, even sitting on the floor. I think the woman was Asian, kind of round-faced, with pale skin and shortish hair. The woman may actually have been giving a speech about anime. But the speech was intended to give the women and children a sense of empowerment, as well.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A tall, white man, bald on top, with white hair around the sides of his head, and wearing a grey suit with a white shirt and, probably, a maroon tie, was sitting at a table with me in a drably fluorescent-lit room, talking about lucid dreaming.

I don't remember what the man said now, although I could hear it pretty well. One word in particular really struck me, although when I woke up I seemed to think that that word could have applied to any subject.

Dream #2

I was standing at the edge of a city park. The park felt small near me, though I had the idea that it was actually a rather large park. I stood on the inside of a black-painted iron fence. A sidewalk ran just outside the park. It was a nice, sunny day. There were a lot of people on the sidewalk.

Somehow I saw, off to my left, my old friend R walking around the corner. He was walking under the shade of some trees. I didn't really want to see him again. But if he was here, and if he saw me, I supposed I should be happy to talk to him.

The entrance to the park was on my side. And R was rounding the corner to reach my side. But for some reason, I started walking over to the side of the park where R was. It was like I wanted to meet him before he got to my side.

But, only a few steps away from where I'd been, I realized that I'd just left my backpack (??? -- don't wear one IWL) behind. I turned around to grab it. It might have been leaning against a tall headstone, like for a grave.

I grabbed my backpack. But by this time, R had already rounded the corner. He was now walking past where I stood. He may have said something to me. We may even have been talking to each other -- in my head. R was already about to reach the next corner.

Somehow I came to understand that I would be meeting R at some other place, like we'd arranged to meet each other for dinner or at R's house or something. I now walked away from the park gates and down toward the opposite end of the park.

The park, I'm pretty sure, had a lot of gravestones in it. It might actually have been a cemetery. I walked across a lawn full of gravestones, under the thick shade of trees.

At some point I saw -- as if I were walking there, but not quite -- the street on the other side of the park. It was an empty street, with a big, residential apartment building. The building was kind of old and run down. It was made of stone or concrete, and it was painted white. It glared in the sunlight.

I was thinking something to myself. But I can't remember what. I was probably still continuing my in-head conversation with R.

Dream #3

I was sitting on a couch with my brother. My brother sat to my right. To my left was another couch, on which sat two or three women. The women weren't my family members, though maybe they were supposed to have been.

I was either drawing or looking at drawings and humming or singing a tune to myself. I remember sensing the tune -- hearing it and feeling it in my throat. But I don't remember the tune at all.

The first drawing I was looking at was kind of tall and narrow. It was of some human-like figure. The figure was all green, with a masculine, slender, but muscular body, and a featureless face. The figure had smallish wings, kind of butterfly-shaped, but clear, like fly-wings.

The figure stood before a background, like a sky fading upward, from the horizon, from yellowish to greenish-yellow, to olive-green.

The second drawing was of a sky and a landscape below. The landscape was very small as I remember, and the sky was very vast. A whole lot of demon-like entities were being released from the sky. They may have come from some ship, but I can't remember.

The demons were little, black, scraggly shadows. In the center of these scraggly shadows there were single, pink orbs, almost like eyes.

The sky faded very quickly from a dark band of blue at the top, to a paler blue, and finally to a white, which took up most of the vast sky. For some reason, the whole thing reminded me of something out of Neon Genesis Evangelion, and I might even have started making up a story about Shinji Ikari attacking these demons.

I was still humming or singing. At some point the women started singing or humming along with my tune. Finally my brother made some smart-ass comment to me about how stupid my song was. He also asked me something like, couldn't I quit making so much noise while he was around?

I stopped. I was really offended and angry. The women stopped as well. But they took more of an attitude of being scared by the sudden change in tone in the environment.

I turned to my brother and said a lot of really bad stuff to him. I remember sensing each thing I said to him -- but I can't remember what I said. All I know is that I was calculating everything I said to hurt him and make him feel as terrible and worthless as possible.

Finally I said that I only tolerated being around him, and nothing more -- that I didn't like being around him.

I then did some strange move where I lifted my hands, bent my arms, grabbed onto the back of the couch, and flipped myself over to the backside of the couch. When I did this, I was in another room.

As soon as I had said everything I felt really terrible. I could tell that my brother had taken everything I'd said to heart. I knew that he'd probably lose faith in himself and go off and get into some kind of trouble. It really upset me that I'd started off that whole chain of events -- even though, while I'd said everything, it was exactly what I'd meant to do.

I didn't seriously mean anything I'd said, though, and now I wanted to apologize to my brother for everything.

My brother was standing right next to me. I figured this would be the best time for me to apologize to him and get things back in order between us.

We were staring at a table full of arts and crafts supplies. The main thing I remember is yellow, plastic canisters of powdered paint. The canisters looked like label-less Crayola products. We had to pour the powdered paint into white, styrofome bowls and add water. I may have called this paint "tempera."

I was looking at the table and apologizing to my brother. My brother was telling me something like, It's okay, it's okay, I'm okay, don't worry about it. But I still felt awful, and I wanted my brother to know I was sorry.

Dream #4

A girl, probably an Asian girl, maybe in her early or mid teens, was wearing a strange helmet. The helmet was made out of brightly polished chrome.

The skull of the helmet held pretty close to the woman's head. But the jaw of the helmet extended straight forward, on both sides, forming something like two stylized, trapezoidal tusks. There may -- possibly, I'm not sure -- also have been ear-like or wing-like shapes coming off the top of the head.

I wondered why the woman would need to wear something like this. It didn't make sense, for daily life.

But somehow I got the understanding that the woman had been attacked, either physically or spiritually, in her life. She was still healing from the attack. And she was still vulnerable to future attacks. So, to protect the healing areas, the woman had to wear this helmet. The helmet may also have helped her fight, in the case of any future attacks.

Dream #5

I was at my old friend R's apartment. But, for some reason, it was now my family's house. My mom and my mom's best friend were at the house. My sister was also there. Other people may also have been there. But I'm not sure who they were.

We were in somebody's bedroom, which was at one end of the apartment. I was sitting on the edge of a big, fluffy bed.

My mom and my mom's friend were secretly worrying over me. They didn't say anything to me. But they were discussing the fact that I was seeing demons, and that I might, therefore, be suffering from schizophrenia. My sister may also have been involved in the conversation.

I got up, not quite feeling like myself, but still trying to prove that I was sane. I'm pretty sure the fact was that I was seeing demons. But I think I was trying to prove to somebody that they were real. But if I couldn't prove they were real, I could, at least, in the meantime, prove that I had a decent grip on the rest of reality.

I walked into the next room, adjacent to the bedroom. I'm not sure what it was. For some reason, I saw the door on the left wall of the room. I wanted to jump from where I was, through the doorway, into the hallway.

I jumped, and I made it. But instead of landing, I decided I just wanted to keep flying. I knew that one could hover 12cm or so above the ground if one had jumped, and that one could move about a bit more quickly than walking by floating around at this height.

I floated off to my left, up the hallway, into the kitchen, where my mom and her friend were. They may still have been talking about how crazy I was. I thought they'd especially think I was crazy, now that I was flying around. I think they'd even think I was crazy for thinking I could fly.

But I wanted to keep flying, and I wanted to prove to somebody that I was flying. So I turned around and headed down the hallway. My sister was walking up the hallway. I figured if she saw me flying she'd know I was flying and that I wasn't crazy.

But as I passed the front door of the apartment, right before I saw my sister, I passed a pair of high heels. The high heels were very strange. The toes and sides of them were covered in a red fabric with white designs. The heels were covered with something like blue denim and white designs. The shoes were then -- somehow -- fringed with white lace.

For some reason, these monstrosities really caught my fancy. I said, "Ooh!" And even turned back to look at them as I passed them. My sister saw how I paid attention to the shoes. I thought, Oh great. Now she'll think I like the shoes because I like wearing women's shoes. And she'll think that since I "like wearing women's shoes," I'm crazy.

My sister was already heading back up the hallway, toward the bathroom, which was near the kitchen. I turned around to follow her, hoping I could say something to her which would make her think I wasn't crazy.

But my sister was talking to me about some kind of fashion show, which the shoes had been a part of. My sister was talking about one dress in particular from the show. My sister either liked the dress or the model for the dress.

The model may have looked like an ultra-thin version of Scarlet Johanssen (I probably spelled that wrong). She had pale skin, and her hair was in a very 1930s-style, triangular kind of cut, not quite shoulder length, full of tight, blonde curls.

The model wore a red dress with white designs. The fabric of the dress was kind of thick and practical, not thin, sheer, or soft. The collar-line of the dress was very low and had a wide v-cut. The sleeves were kind off poofy, in an angular way.

The model also wore a blue hat, the fabric seemed to be like denim. The had basically just sat, tiltled kind of rakishly, atop the curls of the model's hair. It didn't really fit over the whole skull.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some kind of volunteer group. We were getting ready to go to some event. I must have been with the leader of the group. We must have been going around, picking people up.

There were two girls with copper-colored skin and reddish hair. They were both pretty. But one was a lot prettier than the other. They both had a kind of spoiled-girl attitude.

Both girls had been planning to come with us on the event. But something about the details of the event had changed. So it seemed like the event may possibly not happen. So the girls decided that they didn't want to come along with us and risk not doing anything.

The volunteer leader and I got to the event. We stood outside some small building, in an area like a parking lot. It was a grey day, probably like a cool summer day.

There were a lot of other girls with us now -- all either brown or copper-skinned. We all wore black shirts. The event was about to start, and we were getting ready for it somehow.

Suddenly the other two girls showed up, after all. They said that they decided they would attend the event. I was really happy to see them. But both the girls had such a removed attitude, I was afraid to let them know too much that I was happy to see them.

Dream #2

A topless young woman in gold, mesh-like panties was sitting on some kind of pedestal, kind of straddling the pedestal, so that her legs were spread pretty wide. The girl was cupping her big breasts with her hands. The girl had tan skin, brown hair, and green-blue eyes.

Dream #3

I was in a shoe store with my mother. For some reason I was laying on the ground, face down, looking at the women as they walked in the shoes they were trying on. Most of the shoes the women were trying on were high heels.

At some point, a girl walked past me wearing track shoes. The shoes had weird soles. They were like plastic, like just a frame. But the sides of the frame were apparently really elastic. They were supposed to provide some kind of extra spring in your step.

I knew that only really serious runners wore these kind of shoes. So I looked up to see what kind of girl this was. She was maybe in her mid- to late-teens. She was really skinny, pale, with long, straight, blonde hair. She wore a kind of baggy, white t-shirt and blue jeans.

I started to ask the girl what kind of running she did. For some reason, the girl sat up in a high seat, like a shoe-shining seat. The woman looked at me as if she were annoyed -- like I was yet another guy trying to hit on her. I was attracted to her. But I was really more interested in hearing about what she ran.

The girl gave me some kind of half-attentive answer, as if she were trying to blow me off, but not be impolite. Somehow we were now outside. Most of the shoe store was gone. But the chair was still there. We were out in some lawny field. It was a grey day, and it was raining.

I had been laying or sitting under some kind of table umbrella, which had been planted into the ground instead of into the center of a tabletop. I stood up. I think I was holding onto the pole. But it also felt like I was standing at the edge of the umbrella.

My mom pulled up in some car, just off to my right. She walked out of the car and stood just outside the umbrella, as if she wanted to say something to me.

The girl had pretty much disregarded me by this time. I thought the rain might be getting her wet. I knew I had an umbrella, and that I could go get it for her. I wondered if the girl wanted it.

I must have been looking down at the ground. It was really hard for me to turn my eyes upward. It felt like I was pulling against gravity. But I finally looked up to see the girl sitting in the chair. She had an umbrella over her chair, and she was dry. So she was fine.

But I still wanted to go grab my umbrella, so I could give it to somebody, just to prove to the girl that I had an umbrella and that I was generous enough to give it to somebody. I ran out into the rain, thinking, I'll probably give the umbrella to my mom. That should impress the girl.

I knew that the umbrella was in my tent. (???) I saw my tent about fifty meters or so away. Beyond the tent there was a little more stuff going on. There were some RVs and things like that. It was like this was some sort of camping event that I was a part of.

I was still running toward the tent. I imagined having given the girl my umbrella. I imagined her asking me how she should return it. I imagined telling her, "Oh, just put it in my tent when you're through with it."

But I knew that I kept my tent locked shut sometimes. So I imagined myself saying, "Oh, just throw it on the ground outside my tent if I'm not there. Nobody'll bother it."

I imagined my umbrella lying on the ground in front of the tent. I was actually worried that somebody would come by and pick it up. But I imagined myself as not showing the girl that I would be worried by something like that.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was daytime. I was with my mom, out in the middle of the street in what looked like a suburban block of houses. The houses were about average sized, or maybe even smaller than average. But this was apparently one of the blocks (in Hollywood?) famous for the movie stars who resided here.

A male celebrity had just moved in here. There were a whole bunch of people, all gathered on the sidewalk around the man's house -- which was kind of small. The people were all taking pictures of the house. I think they expected the man to come out of the house soon.

But I knew that the houses on both sides of the man were empty. To the right of the man's house, there may actually have been two empty houses.

I knew that a lot of movie stars were out of employment, and that many had had to give up their houses. This neighborhood was becoming desolate. I even wondered why the people in front of the man's house had come here, if all they really had to photograph today was this one man's house.

I started thinking that if these houses were so small, and if the neighborhood was so empty, perhaps the house prices were a lot lower. I thought that maybe if I got a job here, even if it wasn't a good job, I could afford the rent on one of these houses.

I walked down toward one of the houses on the right of the man's house. I must have been trying to see if I could get into the house. I then walked up to one of the houses on the left. I think I actually tried the doorknob on that house.

But my mom -- I think -- got my attention. I think I was trying, in front of my mom, not to look like I was thinking of moving into one of these places. My mom called me across the street, to a house we had been here to visit in the first place.

I crossed the street and walked into the house. As I did, the sky may have been getting really grey. I walked into the house, possibly with my mom.

The house was now my mom's house. I had come into the house with one of my friends. I was in the living room, by myself. My friend and my mom may have been in the dining room or the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a dividing wall.

The living room was dim, unlit, only lit with the light coming from the dining room or kitchen. The living room may also have been really empty.

But there was an entertainment center on the wall to my right. And on that entertainment center there may have been a small pile of mail. I think I took two pieces of mail and hid them under my shirt.

I could hear my mom and my friend talking. At some point I went into the kitchen while my mom and my friend. I thought I'd join the conversation. But they'd left without my seeing them. They were now either in the living room, or standing up in a stairwell up to the second floor. The stairwell was near the entertainment center.

The dining area was kind of L-shaped. The "base" of the L had a dining table. The "side" of the L had a sofa and a kind of long coffee table. The L-shape surrounded the kitchen, which was walled off, I think, from my view.

As I sat on the couch, I could hear my mom and my friend talking. They were actually talking about what a lazy person I was. I sat, curled up on the couch, kind of feeling terrible about myself.

But, for some reason, I thought that my mom would be really impressed by this magic trick I had to show her. I pulled the two pieces of mail out from under my shirt. One envelope was white. The other was black. I thought my trick of the "magically appearing" mail would be pretty cool.

But then I realized, almost as if my friend were telling me this in my head, that my mom would be far from impressed if I pulled her stolen mail out from under my shirt. I was here -- we were both here -- to prove that we were good enough for something or other.

I sat the two pieces of mail on the coffee table, hoping that my mom wouldn't miss them on the entertainment center and would just think she'd sat them on the coffee table. I'd have sat them back on the entertainment center, except that my mom was somewhere near it right then.

Dream #2

It was night. I was standing out in front of a house in a suburban neighborhood. The front yards for these houses were huge, even though the houses themselves were of about average size or smaller.

My mom and I had just arrived, and were walking out of a pickup truck. The house we'd arrived at was set weird, like the front door was on the "right" side of the house, instead of on the "front" side, which would have faced the street. The porch light for the house was on, lighting up a really good portion of the yard with raspy, white, incandescent light.

My mom was getting me set up on the project of trimming a tree or shrub that was in "front" of the house (the side facing the street). She gave me some kind of instructions, and told me why it would be difficult for me to do this.

But before we got to work trimming the tree, my mom built -- almost instantaneously, and all by herself -- a plaster-like dome coming off of the "front-right" corner of the house. She encased us in it as she built it.

It was now built. My mom led me around a kind of dividing wall in the structure. We went through a doorway and were back in the yard. Somehow this dome separated us from the truck. My mom told me something like once I started my job, I couldn't go back, or once I started my job I couldn't go back until I'd finished the job.

I must have grabbed a pair of clippers and got to work clipping the tree. The tree was possibly a weeping cherry. It had drooping, kind of maroon-colored branches. Berries seemed to be growing off of it, more like hawthorn-berries than cherries. They were bright and red.



Hawthorn berries



Weeping cherry

But for some reason, I got distracted from this work and began to fly in the front yard. My flying was controlled by my arms, mostly by the movement of my hands. So if I lifted my hands (clenched in fists) up to my shoulders, I'd lift from the ground. If I stretched my arms way over my head, I'd fly really high. If I shifted my hands to the left or right, I'd move that way as well.

But at some point, I saw my great-grandmother (who IWL passed away a little over two years ago) sitting up really high in something like an oak tree that had no limbs until the high-up limbs in which my grandma sat.

I landed at the base of the tree and looked up to my grandma. My grandma said if I was ----- (something in reference to the cherry tree I'd been cutting), that my real concern should, then, be to trim the -----berry tree.

My grandma pointed across the street, to another tree in the front yard with the cherry tree. This tree was a lot like the tree my grandma sat in. It had bark like a pin-oak tree. But it was really tall, and it didn't have any limbs until way up high on the tree. But I knew that the branches of this tree also bore bright red, hawthorn-like berries.

I was now at the base of that tree. I may have started flying in the front yard again. But now I realized that my mom was no longer here. I may have remembered her saying that she was going to get some more tools, so she could help me trim the trees. But she hadn't come back. I decided to look for her.

I went into the house. It now turned out that I wasn't looking for my mom because she had gone missing after looking for tools. I was now looking for her because she had just come back from getting food for the family from some fast food joint, and she had forgotten to tell me and give me my food.

I saw the bags of fast food on a dining table on the right wall as I entered the house. I may also have seen some other person there, like a childhood version of my little sister. And I probably heard or saw a television blaring somewhere. Something about the atmosphere felt very frenetic.

Just to the left of the table was a door, which I knew was the door to my mother's room. I just thought I'd poke my head in there and ask if it was okay for me to get my food before I grabbed into the bags of food.

But when I opened the door, I saw some young Latino guy making out with some young woman. The guy seemed kind of upset. So I closed the door.

My mindset totally changed. It was like my mom wasn't even around anymore. I was now in this guy's house. This guy had gotten the food. I was working on this guy's trees. And he was in his room, making out with this woman. I felt ashamed for having intruded.

The man called to me from inside the room. I opened the door. The guy was still laying there, half-naked, on this woman, on a couch. He looked up toward me. He had a kind of chubby face and chubby arms. His hair was shaved pretty short. He wore black, Oakley-style sunglasses.

I asked the guy about the food. He told me, sure, just grab my stuff and some fries out of the bag, don't worry about it. After I closed the door and was grabbing my food, I heard the man say to his giggling girlfriend, "Geez. He sure works hard in asking for his food. But he doesn't work hard at any of the work I give him."

I felt bad about what the man had said. I think I felt so bad that I decided not to take any food after all.

I walked around in a room off from the living room. This room also basically looked just like a living room. But the ceilings were really high. There were family pictures dotting the walls, all the way up to the ceiling.

For some reason, I decided to start flying again. I think I had really good control over my flight now. I practiced going up and down and left and right a lot. But then I tried doing some flips. When I'd reach the ceiling, I'd flip or somersault really close to it.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some large building, like a museum or a student union kind of area. I was on the second floor. To my left was a balcony-like railing that looked out over the first floor. To my right was possibly a dining area.

My old friend Y was standing, leaning against the railing. I hadn't seen her in some time. I was happy to see her. And I was acting (and feeling) like I hadn't expected to see her. But I'm pretty sure I had been expecting to see her, like we'd made plans to meet here.

I walked up to Y and stood beside her, maybe kind of leaning against the railing like she'd been doing. All this time, I felt my mother's presence behind me. I may have heard her voice, too, as if she had somehow planned this meeting between me and Y and was now directing it.

Y was watching a movie that was being projected against the wall opposite the railing. The wall was maybe three stories tall. The projection was hitting the third-floor section of the wall. So we had to kind of look up to see it.

I'm not sure how we saw the movie: the wall was red brick; but the movie showed up just fine, anyway. I think it was a movie that we both liked.

Y and I had had some sort of small conversation. Just the sound of Y's voice made me so happy. I put my right arm around Y, not out of romantic feelings, but just because I was happy to see her again.

But Y was really put-off. She grunted something cold and nasty, even implying that she had some kind of sickness that I'd get by touching her.

She'd done this to me in the past. I knew she was just trying to freeze me out or gross me out so I'd leave her alone. I took my hands off her and watched the movie. We may also have continued talking about something.

Eventually we were planning to "meet for dinner." We walked away from the railing and over to the section of the floor that had dining tables.

But now Y changed into my friend H. H and I sat down at the table to eat. The table was a regular, round dining table, about 125cm in diameter, possibly covered over with a white tablecloth. But it was also crammed, both the table and the chairs, with all kinds of things, like household and personal items.

H and I were trying to sit down so we could eat. All this time I felt my mom's presence behind me. I may also have felt the presence of my old friend R. R's presence seemed particularly bitter.

Eventually I got sat down on a seat. But I was only halfway sat in the seat -- the rest of the seat being cluttered with stuff. I guess that H couldn't find any other place to sit. So she tried to sit on my lap. But something about my lap was making it really awkward for her to sit.

H was wearing a grey mini-skirt and a black shirt. But the mini-skirt kept riding up, almost revealing H's panties, as H tried to sit on my lap.

But now it seemed like H was getting into what I thought of then as a "slutty" mindset. She was really getting turned on by the way her skirt was riding up on my lap. Now she started to do it on purpose. She may even have been pulling it up with her hands and then putting it back down.

I might have started getting turned on. And I may have tried to make a move for H. But at this point, she may have gotten up and walked away. I may have been a little bitter about this. But I think I told myself that when H got back, she and I would just forget about it and have a nice dinner.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

My female friend H and I were in a mall at night. We were in one of the department stores. I think we wanted to head out of the mall.

We knew the exit we were at didn't lead to the section of the parking lot where our car was. But we didn't know what exit of the mall would lead us to our car.

But for some reason we were heading for the exit at the end of this department store, anyway. We walked out a double set of sliding glass doors.

As we passed between the two doors, a policeman, not a security guard, passed in front of us. He was a couple inches taller than I, kind of muscly, black, with lightish skin, and very short hair. He seemed to be trying to bully us or hustle us a little as he passed us.

The cop passed through the second set of doors, and we followed. After the cop got a couple meters away from the exit he turned around and did something like a sly, little look at us -- at me in particular, like he thought I was some sort of troublemaker.

I thought, Oh, god, I'm getting singled out all over again. The cop walked away. But I felt like I was going to get targeted for more harrassment.

I knew H and I had walked out the wrong exit of the mall. I knew the easiest thing to do would be to go back into the mall, straight through the mall, and to the correct exit.

But I felt like if the cop already had me singled out as a troublemaker, he'd probably either head back into the mall and harrass me or contact his cop friends and have them harrass me, if he saw me head back into the mall. So I figured the smartest thing to do would just be to walk all the way around the outside of the mall until H and I found our car.

Dream #2

I was sitting at a table in a food court area that kind of looked like the dining section at the student union of my old university. But this food court was either part of a mall or an airport -- or both.

There was one big area of seats, then a wide walkway, then another big area of seats. Both seating areas and the walkway were busy with people, all rushing all over the place.

I sat at a table full of people, mostly adults in their forties or fifties. But, off to my left, I saw somebody, maybe one of my old psychiatrists, sitting at another table.

I didn't want her to get up and hurry away before I got to talk to her. So I ran to her table. But when I got to the table, she was gone. But I felt like she was probably going to return. It was now like we were scheduled to meet. So I figured I'd sit here and wait for her -- so this time I wouldn't miss her.

But I realized I'd left my backpack (a huge, tall backpack!) at the previous table. So I got up and ran over to pick that up.

For some reason, I was now kind of wandering around in the seating area. I seemed to be upset with my most recent psychiatrist. I had feelings about her that were the same as IWL -- I felt like she neglected my deeper psychological issues all the time, always looking for a quick fix and easy way out -- to save herself the trouble of work.

For some reason, I felt like I finally needed to just complain to somebody about her. For a moment I may have complained to the psychiatrist I'd seen sitting at the table -- somehow. But that psychiatrist was now gone.

But now I saw my most recent psychiatrist's "boss," sitting in an armchair in a section of hallway after the seating area across the walkway from me. I went up to this woman and either sat in an armchair right next to hers, or knelt beside the woman's armchair.

The woman looked like Susan Seaforth, who played Julie Horton on Days of Our Lives, from around the time period of the late 1970s.



I either told the woman that I wanted to complain about my psychiatrist, or I just began complaining to her about my psychiatrist.

The woman listened to me for a moment. She then said that she understood what I was talking about. But she had to go take care of some business. When she got finished, she'd come back to me. I could tell her the rest of my story. And she could figure out what to do in response.

But I think this woman's "business" was to catch a flight. I'm pretty sure she even had luggage with her. It didn't register with me then -- but -- how long was I supposed to wait?

Dream #3

It was daytime. I was out on a wide, shallow, stone staircase with a lot of people. We all stood up near the top, near a whole wall of glass doors that looked in on a comparatively dark lobby. It was like we were all assembled out here for a photo.

I was playing some kind of important part in whatever proceedings we were all a part of. But there were these two really hot, young women right next to me. One of them, even though she was a really hot, young woman, may have been one of my friends' mothers.

The two hot girls began kissing each other. First they were just giving each other mild, quick, closed-mouth kisses. But then, either because I wasn't reacting much or because I actually was paying attention to them, they began to give each other slower kisses.

I was pretty aroused by this. The two girls kind of fed on my arousal and began giving each other open-mouthed kisses. They even kind of sunk down a bit, almost kneeling on the ground with each other. They may have been wearing wedding dresses, as if they were going to marry each other.

Now the young women opened their mouths slightly and began slowly sliding their tongues back and forth into each others' mouths. This was too much for me to handle.

The girls stood back up and were almost right in my face. So, even though I didn't want to start kissing my friend's mom, I just crept my face a bit closer. I began working my tongue in there a bit.

I was trying to get my tongue in there in the least intrusive way that I could. I was really turned on by the girls' lesbian kissing. I didn't want it to turn into straight kissing. I just wanted to get a little bit of the lesbian erotic energy on my own tongue.

Good morning, everybody.

I don't think I've ever made an out and out joke (albeit corny) in a dream before this dream.

This dream is another instance of so-so dream control. I was watching the video below yesterday afternoon. I thought it might be fun to dream myself onto the International Space Station.

But I got afraid of messing up the machinery if I actually projected myself up there. So I told myself not to try, after all. Anyway, the dream I had is a result of that thought process.



Dream #1

It was a sunny day. I was flying over the roofs of some really nice, 19th century-style mansions. I was apparently searching for a book I'd lost. It may have been some sort of classic book. But I think it was actually a porn novel or porn magazine.

I think a bird had stolen this book. I may have seen evidence that the bird was on the roof of a house just in front of me. I may have seen something like a little nest on one of the peaks of the roof. I may have felt like the book was now a part of that nest.

But I was now floating in between two mansions. The mansions both had complex roofs, with a lot of different angles of sloping. My oldest nephew straddled the roof of one of the mansions. My mom sat on the roof of the other mansion.

I may have been here now in order to get some books for my nephew. My mom had a couple of books on her roof. I think I was going to bring those over for my nephew. But there was still one book missing.

But now a cartoon bird landed at the edge of the roof of my mom's mansion. The cartoon bird was black, so I thought it was a raven. But it actually looked like the Warner Bros chicken hawk character, Henery Hawk.



The "raven" had the missing book on top of its head, for some reason. The book was real, even though the raven was a cartoon.

I thought, Whoa! Now's my chance!

Still floating in between the two mansions, I turned to my nephew. I said, "Hey! Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

My nephew said, "What?"

I bobbed back around to the raven and said, "Why is a raven like a writing desk? Because it has a book on its top!"

My nephew said, "Oh. I guess."

The raven now, for some reason, did something like faint. It slid down the right slope of the roof, taking the book down with it. I floated over to the peak of the roof and sat there, looking down at the bird.

I was a little sore that my nephew either didn't get my joke or thought it was corny. I was trying to blame him for the fact that he thought my joke was corny.

I could see the book laying at the bottom of the roof's slope, as if it were about to slip off the roof's edge. I guess the raven had already slipped off the roof's edge.

I thought about getting the book, before it slipped, too. But I really didn't want to do my nephew any favors, after he hadn't liked my joke. But I could see the other books, near my mom. And I figured I'd get those ones for him.

My nephew asked me to get the other book. He couldn't see it, and he didn't know whether it had fallen or not.

But I told my nephew I couldn't get the book. I said, "It's in too hard a place to reach. I'm an old man, now. I can't reach into all kinds of places like I used to."

I now really was an old man. I was a tall, white man, with a big belly. I was bald, with dirtyish grey hair on the sides of my head. I probably wore a nice button-up shirt and blue jeans.

I was walking with two extremely hot women, probably in their mid- to late-twenties. They were like models. But they were astronauts. They were dressed in these extremely sexy, silvery jumpsuits which, I guess, were their space suits.

We walked through an automatic, sliding-steel door on a vanilla-yellow wall. We walked into some area that looked like a cafeteria. But not far above my head were all kinds of staircases, as if there were a maze of balconies above this eating area. At the other end of this room was a huge window wall, revealing a gigantic swimming pool area.

I knew that one of these women was my daughter-in-law. The other woman was a partner on the flight that my daughter-in-law was about to take.

I was here to see my daughter-in-law off on her space flight. My daughter-in-law and her friend were dropping me off here to relax and wait in the preparation time before launch. I knew that this cafeteria was part of some fitness area, and that the girls were probably going to do a little exercise before their flight.

We walked toward some sort of booth table, talking and joking. My daughter-in-law, even though she was incredibly sexy, had a kind of low self-esteem. I tried to make her feel better about herself. So as we sat into the booth, I made some kind of sly comment implying how cute she was.

This made both of the girls giggle giddily. I had a bad feeling that both of the girls were now sexually attracted to me. I thought I should back off a bit. I didn't want my daughter-in-law to be attracted to me. But, I thought, it wouldn't be so bad if her friend decided she liked me.

The girls had to leave me now. They may already have been gone. But I at least heard my daughter-in-law telling me, in my head, "You know, they have the ----- (press conference?) going on right before the flight. Everybody's welcome to come to that thing. And we'll be there, too. You should come, so we can see you one last time."

For some reason I didn't think that was a good idea. I told the girls I'd probably just take a walk around before the launch, instead.

I was now myself again. I was sitting on the ground or on a concrete floor -- somewhere. A tall, heavy, white man with feathery, black and grey hair, stood by a blackboard at a wall. The wall looked like it was part of some warehouse or unfinished building. There were thin, metal beams running from the floor to some kind of half-ceiling.

The man was explaining something to me about Judaism. He was making calculations regarding verses in the Torah. He was trying to show that the appropriate method of studying was one passage of the Torah per week. He said that this was all a person could really handle, while keeping a balance on his spirituality.

I saw a number of -- what I would describe as traffic poles -- like the yellow-painted concrete poles with convex tops. But these poles were comprised of crystal cogs, all stacked up on top of each other.

The cogs were all different colors. But they were piled up so that cogs of the same color were near each other. One pole, for instance, started with orange at the bottom, worked its way up to a pinkish-red, then into a green, then blue.

I told the man, "It doesn't make sense to me that people should only study one passage a week. It seems to me like a person could actually study a passage a day and be fine."

The man was a little shocked that I'd said something like that. I felt like I had kind of insulted either his ideas of religion or his ideas of spiritual balance. I think I felt like I needed him for a teacher. So I had to find a way to apologize to him for having made a comment apparently against one of his major theories.

We were both standing outside now. The man was up on a sidewalk. I stood on something like asphalt -- maybe in a parking lot? The man was taller than me by his own height and the height of the curb. And we were separated by some kind of railing.

I decided that the best way to apologize to the man was by showing my knowledge of other religions and concluding with the idea that, compared to his religion, all the other religions I knew about were lacking.

I had a whole bunch of papers in my hands. It was like I was going to flip through some kind of PowerPoint presentation on the faults of all the other religions I knew about.

There were some slides regarding some religions on the top of my stack of papers. But I wanted to save those religions for later. I shuffled those to the back of the deck. Now the top slide was about some religion that was somehow based in the teachings of Edgar Cayce. I figured that would be a good place to start.

I gave the man some explanation about the tenets of this religion (I wish I could remember them now!). I was going to move on to how I thought they were silly, compared to the tenets of his religion.

But the man interrupted me -- as if he thought I were trying to convince him that this religion was really good. He took the same tack with me, now, that I was trying to take with him. He became really interested in what I had to say about this religion. He wanted to know more.

I felt a little defeated. I was trying to learn more about the man's religion. But now he wanted me to teach him about mine!

I stood up onto the curb. The man and I turned to my left and walked down the sidewalk, down a slight slope, to a complex of buildings like a university campus. There seemed to be a decent amount of people walking around down there.

I was explaining something to the man. But now I was in some kind of limbo space, floating around and discussing things in my head. I was now apparently talking to someone, kind of like the Apollo 11 Command Module Pilot Michael Collins.



Collins didn't believe in something about psychic phenomena. But I was trying to convince him that psychic phenomena did exist.

Collins and I were now driving in a car at night. I had gotten onto the topic of psychokinesis. I was trying to make some point about how it was already being used in outer space, and that it wasn't causing any harm.

To illustrate this, I had a chart in my mind. It was a white background, with an x-arrow and a y-arrow. Both arrows were really bold. The plane made by the coordinates was of either twelve or sixteen rectangles. The rectangles were stood vertically. The grid was four rectangles wide, and either three or four rectangles long.

In this grid, I drew something like a jagged line bouncing down through the rectangles. This was made to show the minimal damaging effect that psychokinetic powers had in space.

Somehow, Collins and I faded into some place like a residence area for astronauts who were about to head up into space. We were both inside a room with thin-panelled walls, like the fake wood-panel walls inside a double-wide trailer. The entire floor of the room was covered with mattresses, except the left side of the room, which had a set of bunk beds.

In the center of the room was some very space-stationy-looking computer area. A pole hung from the ceiling. Suspended from the pole were a big computer system and a seat at which someone sat while using the computers.

Collins was sitting at the computer station. I was laying on my back, on a mattress, looking up at the back of one of the screens of the system.

I was shocked to see that the logo of the computer's manufacturer was a circle with a stylized, interlocking P and K. I thought, PK! That's psychokinesis! Is this whole computer part of some psychokinesis project?

Apparently, though, I had been continuing my argument, because Collins, at some point, told me that I'd won him over. I don't know whether he actually believed in psychokinesis. But he at least seemed to believe that, if it existed, it wouldn't do any harm.

Somehow, I was now asleep, my back propped up against the back wall of the room. But now another astronaut opened the door of the room.

Even though my eyes were closed, and I was sleeping, I could see the woman. She was blonde, a little frumpy-looking, with frizzy-curly, long, blonde hair. She was maybe in her late forties. She wore a red sweater and red-plastic-rimmed eyeglasses.

The woman poked her head in through the doorway and asked Collins, "Do you know anything about debt for the companies ----- (can't remember, ----- (Provate?), and Fluxcil, that you might be able to help me with them?"

These were biotech companies. Collins said, "No. I don't know."

But the woman wasn't really asking Collins so Collins could help her. She was hinting to him that they should test me out, on my knowledge. But Collins didn't get the hint. So the woman had to make it a little stronger.

But the mention of the biotech names got me kind of interested (why? I don't know anything about biotech), and I was already waking up, lifting my dark, heavy eyelids, as the woman said, "Well... do you know anybody who might know about that debt? Like... another astronaut you work with?"

Collins might have said something like, "Oh. Yeah."

But I was already too interested in what the woman was talking about to wait. I stood up -- still incredibly groggy! -- and said, "Oh? Debt? I think I can get you some information." I knew I didn't know anything about biotech. But I was already making a plan in my head for how I'd do the research.

I walked over all the mattresses, toward the doorway. The woman may have said something to me, then asked me, "Do you think fifteen minutes will be enough time for you?"

I said, "Yeah. I can get you something in fifteen minutes."

I thought I'd have to use my own computer. But I wondered if my wireless would work all the way from up here on the space station. I thought that the satellite system would be all messed up.

Then I realized we weren't on the space station yet. It was still the night before we even launched up into space. I thought, of course my computer will work.

Collins had gotten up from the computer station. He was walking out of the room, to go down the hallway for some kind of meeting with the woman. I walked back toward the back of the room, to pull my computer out of my suitcase (???).

But I'd forgotten the names of the three companies. I turned around and caught the woman before she walked away. I said, "So the companies are... Probate... ?"

The woman said, "-----, ----- (Provate?), and Fluxcil. You know Fluxcil. They make -----."

I felt a little insulted by that. I didn't want the woman to think I was stupid. Of course I knew that Fluxcil made -----. But I was just having trouble keeping the companies' names in my head. My brain was still so groggy!

The woman left and I walked back toward the back of the room. My suitcase was huge -- maybe waist-high, and as wide as two of me. I knew my computer was in a pocket at the back end of the suitcase.

As I walked toward the suitcase I was already trying to figure out how to get my information. I knew that I'd start by pulling the most recent financial filings for each company.

I started wondering if fifteen minutes was enough time. These filings were for biotech companies. They might be huge.

But I thought that there were two other things I should do if I had enough time left in my fifteen minutes. One thing was to do a debt schedule. But I thought I would probably have to ask the woman if she wanted that before I actually did it.

I also thought that, to get the most recent debt issuances of the companies, I'd probably also have to go through the most recent press releases for each company.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was walking up the stairs in a fire escape stairwell in an office building. The walls were white and the light was either incandescent or a warm-feeling fluorescent. There may have been one or two people ahead of me, guiding me. One may have been a pretty, young woman.

I was told something about the office where I was being taken. It had something to do with the difference between this place and my old office. I felt like probably nobody would even know me here.

The door opened to the office floor. Colorful Christmas lights were glaring somewhere at the periphery of my vision. The two people guiding me either disappeared or walked really far away into the office.

I was by myself in a corner of the office. It felt kind of like an elevator bank. But it was open to the rest of the office. I wasn't even sure why I was supposed to be in this office in the first place.

A young man came up to greet me. I knew him! (I don't think I really know him IWL.) I was so relieved to know somebody.

But the man didn't quite want to acknowledge that he recognized me, as well. Some people didn't like me, and the man didn't want to be seen by them as liking me. So he just treated me politely, but indifferently, like he'd treat anybody who came into the office.

The man may have told me that my old boss would be here to meet with me momentarily. In the meantime, the man said, I could visit the museum on this floor. The man walked me to the wall behind me -- the wall with the doorway to the stairwell.

Off to the left of the doorway was something that looked like a display. It was about the size of an animal display diorama in a museum.

The "display" was of something like a space station. It looked fake, like one solid, plastic piece -- almost like a Star Wars toy! But some part of it, I knew, opened like a door. From there, you would walk into the museum. The museum would, I think, be about the size of a hallway, or the size of one exhibit room in a large museum.

Off to the left of this "museum" was a long hallway. On the right wall of the hallway, from the waist up, were windows letting in a lot of yellow-white sunlight. The floor of the hallway was blue.

I was now in "my apartment," which was rather large. The living area, which may have included the dining area, was three or four rooms long, with all the rooms opening into each other, only distinguished from another by the varying widths of their rectangles.

The place was empty of furntiture. But there was stuff everywhere on the floor. Nothing was cluttered, and maybe everything had some kind of order. But it mostly felt like I just had all the stuff I liked just laying around everywhere.

I'm not sure, but at this point, I think I looked like Lance Loud, from An American Family.



(In this photo, Lance is standing, to the far right. The mother, Pat, is seated, in the center.)

I had my phone to my ear, and maybe I was waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. I was looking down to the floor as I stepped over all the stuff I had laying around on the floor.

I think I walked over some vinyl records, in their sleeves, and over a really old cassette tape player, the cassettes for which were bigger than eight-track tape cassettes.

I probably started thinking about music. I thought of something that I really wanted to hear. I was going to play it. The music may now already have been playing. I still had the phone to my ear.

But suddenly I realized -- I'm almost all out of money! It's totally wrong for me to stay in this place with no money. I can't sit here listening to music. I need to get all my stuff reduced and organized, so I can get the hell out of here!

I may now have started putting together a plan for how to throw out a bunch of useless papers I didn't need, so I'd have less stuff to take with me once I left this place.

I was now in a house which was supposed to be the Loud family house. At this point I definitely looked like Lance Loud. The house had two stories. I was up on the second floor, in a bedroom which had been converted into an office.

I wasn't a member of the family. I was like a friend of some member of the family. But I had also been doing some kind of work for them. I had had tough times, and I needed to stay at their house. I think I had been staying at the house a couple of days, but now I was getting ready to leave.

Pat, the mom from An American Family, came into the room. I was reclined -- somehow -- either against an office chair and some small filing cabinets, or on a bed.

Pat sat down on something and told me that she knew I was planning on leaving the house. But she said she didn't think I actually had enough money yet to go out on my own. She said she was going to talk with the rest of the family about seeing whether I couldn't stay here a little while longer.

Pat stood up and left. I looked through the doorway. There was a short, balcony-like hallway, with the stairs on the end closer to me. Again, I'm pretty sure I saw the colorful glare of Christmas lights somewhere.

I was kind of relieved that Pat had asked me to stay. But I knew that I couldn't accept the offer, anyway. I didn't want any of the manlier men in the family to think I was just being a waste by sticking around here. I knew that if Pat made a good case for me, none of the men would say anything to my face. But I'd always have to deal with them showing me how they felt in other ways.

I figured that what I would do, then, if Pat got the okay for me to stay, was just act like I was going to stay here, after all. Then, when nobody was looking, probably when everybody was gone from the house or asleep at night, I'd just pack up all my stuff and sneak out, leaving a letter saying why I'd gone.

Dream #2

I was walking down the hallway of some movie theatre. I was in a huge line either for tickets or to get into the theatre itself. The wall to my left was just a plain, beige-colored wall, possibly with some kind of wallpaper that looked like thickly-threaded linen.

To my right was a wall that occasionally had narrow, tall windows, letting in the grey light of late afternoon. There were also occasional arcade games positioned along this wall. And somewhere there was a feeling of faint, flashing, multi-colored lights.

There were a couple of people, probably a man and a woman, directly ahead of me, talking about a movie. The woman was doing most of the talking, and she sounded kind of arrogant and pretentious.

Apparently the film the woman was talking about was a short film. The woman was speaking about the director of the film. The director may also have been a character in the film -- a comic kind of character who, even though he wasn't the main character, was supposed to "steal the show."

I may have had an image of this guy in my head. He may have been a white guy, kind of rich-looking, wearing a really garish, multi-colored tuxedo, and a hat that looked either like a wizard's hat or a dunce cap, which was also multi-colored.

I then looked off to my right, to a part of the right wall of the hallway that bent diagonally toward us, making the hallway narrower. On the sloping part of the wall was a poster for the movie the woman had just been talking about. The man was on the front, in his costume. He may have been waist-deep in popcorn.

I realized that the film wasn't a short film. It was feature-length. And it was the film we were all heading in to see (or buying tickets for?) right now.

I had been telling myself that I really didn't want to see the movie. I really didn't like the director. But now that I'd seen the poster, and now that I realized the movie was feature-length, I decided that I actually would like to see it.