Schmaven's Dream Journal of Randomness

There are spiders using telekinesis type powers to propel themselves rapidly around my house, stringing strong webs as they go. I chase after them, trying to clean the webs away and close doors to keep the spiders out of the other rooms in the house. One spider in particular is really loud, and is yelling to the other spiders. He's giving a sales pitch, talking about how he has found some high quality katana swords in several colors, he has blue, candy red, and black right now, starting at $1800. They sound cool, but I don't trust the spider.

I turn a corner and find myself in a coffee shop, cornered by a salesman and woman, trying to sell me their book that tells how to make thousands of dollars a day from home. I know that crap is all a scam, so I get up to leave, but am blocked in by several tables and chairs, stuck in the corner. I squeeze by, and the salesman makes an offer for me. If I buy the book for $45, he guarantees I'll get $500 today, and if not, I can return the book for a full refund. In the stupor of the dreamworld, I accept his crazy offer and pay him the $45.

I wake up briefly and notice that infomercials are on TV, so I turn the TV off and go back to sleep.

I am flying a jet pack! Zooming through the air for at least 2 solid hours, I fly from southern VT to my mom's house. I run out of fuel in her front yard. The jet pack uses the final bit of fuel in one quick burst, sending me 30 ft up in the air then dropping me like a rock. I hit the ground hard, then walk inside and refuel the jet pack. I use the jet pack to hover over a chair, a sofa, a desk, and a bed that are in my way in a hallway. I get to a room and see a young girl looking into the window. I go up to the window and yell loudly, startling her. "Did I scare you?" I ask through the glass. "Yes" she nods. I feel bad for scaring her.

I crawl out of the room through a small chamber with cinder block / concrete walls and a dirt floor. It's way too small for comfort, and there are other people ahead of me. I'm not the first to have to go through this, so I follow the others. The room gets smaller, so I have to crawl on my back and pull myself along grabbing the ceiling. There's no going back now. At the exit, a beautiful woman is giving her milk to everyone. Kind of unusual, but it seems to be the only way out of this room, and it isn't optional. I crawl toward her on my back to get out. She shakes her boobs at me, gives me a hj, and lets me go. Very unexpected!

Being chased by super-human bad guys, I feel like I'm in the matrix. Running full tilt to get away, I turn a corner and end up in the street, with a hummer right in front of me. Without breaking stride, I dive forward through the air like superman, and smash through the windshield of the hummer, landing in the passenger seat right on top of a baby in a child seat, next to its mother.

Realizing that the agents can take over the mother's body in her spot if she is too startled, I lovingly move her baby to the other seat, and give her a reassuring look. Then I help her into the seat next to her baby, and take the wheel, driving very quickly to try to escape.

Visiting a monastery with my meditation teacher, someone mentions "The Sound of Angels". And then we hear it - a noise so high pitch that I don't actually hear it with my ears, but rather, I feel it in my head. Deafeningly loud, it pervades my whole perception of sound until that's all I experience. Then it stops, the maker of the noise pausing to take another breath before continuing. I join in with the noise making because I don't know what else to do really.

Everyone stops as a well respected woman is now inside another building, giving some rare advice. I open the door before I can really think much about it and see just one person sitting with her. This person is very nervous and doesn't look prepared to take the advice and use it, so I sit down with them. The woman has a hard time with English, but there is a book she is reading from that we all have a copy of. I gently read along with her to encourage her that she's pronouncing it right. We come to a spot where a bunch of pages are missing. Maybe 20 pages. My book has them all torn out, and so does her book. She looks at me, not knowing what to do next. I tilt my head back toward the heavens and start making "The Noise of Angels". The woman is astonished that I know how to do this, and I figure out from her that it is really rare to be able to make that noise. To me, it is like a cry; a wailing; not really very pleasant, and yet very calming at the same time...

The monks nearby join me in making the noise, and I appear to be the noise making leader at this point. For no other reason than I know how to make it easily. I do it as I breathe in and also as I breathe out, so I can sustain it with only minimal gaps during the transition of the breath. It also feels like I'm flexing my ear muscles in order to make it - the ones that affect your hearing and ear pressure.

My meditation teacher and Shiela start to talk about the noise. Apparently, ever since Shiela has discovered that it exists, she has found several movies about it and has not been bored since the discovery. I follow the two of them upstairs in a big house. Shiela turns off to go into her room, then my teacher turns to go into his room, leaving just me in the hallway. I see my friend D in the hallway. We smile and say hi. Seeing a bathroom, I realize I really have to pee. But it's the only one nearby, and I don't want to take it from D, so I leave in search of another. At the top of the stairs, I see a rather exposed bathroom. Waist high walls, and a shelf that makes it really hard to tinkle into the drain because I can't get very close. I try anyway, using my precision accuracy I've developed with the tinkle cannon, but part way through, get a feeling that Shiela will soon come this way. I stop part way through, and flush, then go down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, is a sink. The base of the sink begins to leak from my flush, and spreads across the wooden floor to a thick rug. I run over and grab paper towels, soak up the wet rug area, then wipe it up back toward the sink. I recall the sink had been leaky for a while, so I am happy to have finally found the source of the leak - the toilet above. J-Rad is also happy we found the leak - I see him in the other room.

I wake up to find the same frequency noise emitting from the chime bar on my alarm clock!

Captured by terrorists, I am forced into slave labor. My job is to clean used bullets that have been reloaded, and then crimp the casing onto the bullet so they stay together. Many of them have a lot of dirt all over, so I submerge them in a bucket of water as I wipe them with my thumb to clean it all off.

All sizes of bullets are given to me in a big tub. Tiny little hand gun bullets, rifle bullets, and huge machine gun bullets. I grab one that appears to be all ready, with no possible crimping to do to it. I worry that if I try to crimp it, it will explode and injure me. I look at it, and hold it with my crimping tool, not sure what to do just yet.

A woman sees this happening, and comes over to me. She seems to be uninvolved with any of the terrorist activity, and tells me that one is fine, and to set it aside and go to the next one. I do, along with whatever other bullets also appear to be fine like that one. Then I grab a weird one, with four prongs protruding from the tip of it. I bring it to the attention of the captive next to me, and we both comment on how strange this one is. I ask him, "Do you think it's so that if they miss, but it's still close, one of the prongs will still get you?" as I demonstrate a slow motion bullet fly by with it.

Suddenly, a big projector screen is dropped open in front of us and all the lights are immediately turned off. In just shades of red and black, a training video is shown to us, where we are supposed to shoot at any people we see on the screen. As I watch, there is no one there I think we should shoot at, so I don't do anything as the video progresses from images of one family to another.