KittySquirrel

A half demolished home. An Ordway-type figure dances amongst the rubble. Matriarch questions why I care about her dancing, I say she's beautiful.. Melody P comes to the door as I'm lying there in the half demolished home. She's looking for matriarch. I lie back down, relishing the last few moments before the home is completely gone. My vacating there is a combination of recently leaving my South Pasadena apartment, and the destruction of my old family home. 10 years apart but one and the same, in this moment.

A second scenario. I'm in a cubicle farm, many people clogged together. It's dusk, remnants of sunset still linger. There is talk of some UFO or weaponry overhead in the night sky, but the talk is light. In a different room, a terminal emulator is portrayed on a large projector screen. It doesn't at first register to me that it's the same one we use at work, and because of that I find it more interesting and modern. Then I realize it's the same and the fascination fades.

I had a dream that my family and I were traveling to some sort of event (it may have been the Kentucky Derby or some wine tasting sort of thing). The place at which we arrived was composed of rolling hills and vineyards as far as the eye could see. I'm a bit hazy on the order of the events, but i can remember that I traveled down into an underground shoppe beneath the rolling hills (sort of like a Hobbit home). It was rather quaint and had many strange items which appeared hand made and wooden in nature. There was only one other person in the shoppe besides me: a young woman with brown hair who was running the place it seemed. It is strange in dreams how you can possess an inexplicable attraction to a simple projection of your subconscious; such was the case in this dream of mine. I was drawn to her, and for some unknown reason, I felt the need to speak with an Irish accent to her. Somehow, I was convinced that this would attract her to me, and it did. We kissed and embraced and so forth. (It was so strangely vivid, and i can recall my emotions in the dream almost perfectly still. I imagine this vividness was due to my rather large consumption of apple juice before going to bed that night.) The last thing I remember about the dream was my sisters, who were digging in a part of the underground shoppe for some unknown reason. That's about all I can remember. Isn't it amazing how wonderfully random and creative dreams can be? It seems you can't consciously make this stuff up. So beautiful, one of the mysteries of life.