maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in the hallway of my apartment buidling. I was at the other end of the hallway from my apartment. There were two black boys, one kind of tall, both probably in their early to mid teens. One of the boys saw me and wanted to do something disrespectful to me, so he spit in the hallway, near the top of the stairwell going down.

I was now in my doorway, yelling at a few adults, who were also all black. I asked why people needed to keep doing this kind of stuff, not only to me, but to the whole apartment.

Somehow a really big, thuggish-looking adult possibly dressed in a red hooded sweatshirt, black bubble vest, backwards cap, and slightly tinted eyeglasses began to beat me up. He pounded and pounded on me until I was lying on the floor. Something may have been really wrong with my left shoulder, as if the man had almost torn it off.

But I may possibly still have stood up after this to run after one or two of the adults who were now walking away, down the hallway. I told them that I wasn't going to stop complaining just because of what they'd done to me.

Dream #2

I was out on some lawn which may have been surrounded by some kind of small building, like a wide villa. It was a kind of pale, slightly overcast day.

I had possibly done something bad, and now some woman possibly wanted to get me in trouble for it. The woman may have been a few years older than I, with a kind of thin, rough-looking face, pale blue eyes, and very short, red hair.

The woman was really taunting me. I finally felt so threatened that I grabbed the woman by her ankles, swung her around, and threw her up in the air. She went pretty high, then she landed. She seemed injured. But now I just wanted to kill her. So I lifted her back up, spun her around, and slammed her back down to the ground. I did this a few times, until the woman had been smashed so much that she was finally dead.

During the last few throws, I saw that there were two men watching me from a porch. On the woman's last fall, her body bounced up onto the porch, then actually tumbled down into a smallish, plastic cooler that was full of ice and sodas. I slammed the lid down on the cooler.

The guys were still staring at me. One was younger. The other was very old. They both looked kind of grizzled and wore worn old clothes and cowboy hats.

I thought I'd impress them somehow, so I opened up the cooler and pulled out a Dr. Pepper. I sat it on the porch and made some weird comment about how the woman's body had become a Dr. Pepper and how it would taste so great to drink because of that.

The men "told" me that I had killed the woman because I didn't want her to tell on me and get me in trouble, but that now the police knew the woman had been killed, and I'd be getting in even more trouble. I should probably get out of here before the police came around.

I agreed. I started taking body parts out of the cooler. But the body parts, mostly just a bunch of shapeless chunks of meat, were all inside of white paper bags from Wendy's. I sat the bags up on the porch. I asked the men if they would hide the body parts for me, so that the police wouldn't find them.

I was now leaving. The two men were sitting in a room back from the porch. The room was dim. The two men sat side by side, with their backs to the wall opposite the doorway. As I walked away, on the lawn, I asked the men if we would still be able to cook the woman's body parts and eat them like a hamburger. The men said that we would be able to do it.

"In fact," the older man said, "You've already eaten a hamburger made out of humans."

I thought back and realized, with surprise, that the man was right. There was a man just a while back. His body had been turned into a hamburger, and I had been fed his meat without even knowing it! I had been tricked into cannibalism!

I was now in some bathroom that looked like an outhouse or a bathroom that you might see at a camp in the woods. I was in a stall. I kept coughing and pulling meat out of my mouth. The meat was yellowish and looked kind of like fish or curried chicken. It had the texture of fish. I had apparently not yet swallowed any of this meat. I hadn't even chewed it very much.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I sat at a small dining table in "my apartment." My friend H sat across the table from me. The table was narrow, and the room was kind of drab. The walls may have been some kind of dull green, and the only other thing in the room may haved been a bed.

H was being really mean to me. It seemed to be because she was in a bad mental state. I figured this was because she had been talking to her old boyfriend, C.

I got really mad that H had let herself get mixed up with C again. I stood up and leaned all the way across the table, getting into H's face. I said, "Are you talking to C again?" H may have given some kind of non-verbal confirmation.

I sat down and leaned back in my chair. I said, "Get out of here, you disgusting b---h."

H stood up and headed for the door, upset and in a really scattered state of mind. She had brought a couple of bags worth of stuff to my house. I told her as she was leaving to take her stuff with her. But she wasn't listening to me.

I took the stuff and sat it outside the door. H was already heading down the stairs. I yelled at her that I was leaving this stuff outside of my apartment, so she better come pick it up. But she didn't listen.

I went back inside my apartment. I was a little worried for H's stuff, but I wasn't going to bring it back into my place. I went back into the bedroom. I figured that I would go away somewhere, take a few days in another town. That way I could make some kind of final separation from H.

I found two small items of H's still in my room. One was a small, padded manila envelope with some kind of Japanese writing on it. Another was a thick card that looked like its backing was made out of manila envelope paper. This card had Japanese writing on it as well, something like an advertisement for a destination or some kind of clinic.

I looked into the envelope. It was full of medicine and inhalers. But it also had something which I couldn't see clearly, but which reminded me of a box of condoms. It seemed clear to me from this that H was messing around with C again, which was definitely bad news and something I wasn't willing to be a part of again.

I got really worried about H's stuff outside. I was afraid it would get stolen, because it seemed like the people in my apartment were really crooked. But I just didn't want to have anything to do with H anymore.

For some reason, I called H to tell her that I was going on a trip somewhere, but that I found two more packages of hers at my place. I'd just mail these packages.

At some other time I got a phone call from H. I imagined that she would ask me where the bags were that she'd left at my apartment. I imagined that I'd have to tell her they were gone by now, if she hadn't come back to get them. I imagined that she'd be mad.

Dream #2

I was sitting in a kind of small bedroom, which may actually have been a studio apartment or a dorm room. I sat on the bed, with my back against the wall and my legs partly off the side of the bed.

A mother stood with her back to me. She had two daughters, both of whom were young, one of whom may have been about eleven or twelve years old. Both girls stood with their backs to me as well, and in front of their mother.

The mother was acting as if she were driving a car somewhere. It really was like she was driving a car and taking us somewhere. It was like the girls were in the front seat and I was in the back seat. The younger sister looked back at me. I smiled at her in a kind of flirting way.

The younger sister got interested in me and sat down on the bed next to me, on my left side. She was blonde, and she wore a red and black or pink and black flannel jacket and blue jeans. She may have looked older that eleven, maybe even in her late teens.

At some point I may have laid my hand on her leg. She held my hand. I felt really excited. I thought I might try to make another move. But I then thought, Isn't this wrong? I'm a lot older than this girl. She's really young. I shouldn't be getting romantic with her like this.

The older sister now wanted a little attention as well. She sat on the bed, to her sister's left. She had tan skin and brown hair. She wore a short, white, satiny dress that looked like a Chinese-style skirt-dress. She was really sexy, but I wasn't incredibly interested in her.

The girls had to go somewhere. They said they'd be back. I was kind of glad to see them go -- I was a little freaked out that I had been making moves on an eleven year old girl. But before the older sister left, she said she and the mother would have the younger sister come back into the room so she could be alone with me.

I was really excited about this. I thought, Well, if they think it's okay, then it must be okay! I lay down, stomach down, on the bed. Somehow I realized that the situation was different from what I'd thought it had been. There were a few people coming to this room in a while. There was going to be a party, probably with old friends of mine from college.

I may have walked into the bathroom. When I came out of the bathroom, one of my old college friends' mothers walked into the room. She was nice-looking, older, skinny, blonde. She wore a form-fitting, dark blue sweater and dull, blue slacks. She had something like dry cleaning in her arms. She folded the dry-cleaned clothes over a chair at the dining table.

The woman and I spoke politely, but it seemed to me like I wasn't classy enough to be a satisfactory friend for the woman's child, and that somehow the woman was restraining her disappointment in me.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some big apartment. It felt very light inside the apartment, as if almost everything were white. There may have been people in the apartment with me. We may have been standing before something like a drafting table.

I or some other man was talking about something like dinosaur bones. Some of us people were trying to get another person interested in whatever field of study we were engaged in by showing the person that dinosaur bones were actually a lot older than he'd thought.

The person may have been a young man. One of my "colleagues" may have been kind of tall and skinny, with olive-colored skin, a stubbly face, and bushy hair and a bushy mustache.

But at some point something happened with the one of the windows of the apartment. A big blast of wind came up and blew against the window, popping it out of its socket. But it didn't pop inward; it popped outward.

I ran to grab the window to keep it from falling down to the street. There were at least three different pieces to the window: the outer pane, a screen, and some other kind of pane. The window seemed to be one of many lining the wall. There also seemed to be a big fire escape outside, lining most of the wall.

After grabbing all the pieces, though not very securely, I saw as if from outside the building. It seemed like the outer pane was actually connected to the window frame. It also looked like it could open and shut by means of a little hand-crank inside the apartment.

Dream #2

One of my co-workers, HS, was walking out of some office. He didn't want me to see him because he had his left pants leg hiked up to about his knee, revealing a pale blue sock. I told HS not to worry. I'd always thought he was a hard worker. His mishap with his pants and sock proved he was working so hard that he'd gotten absent-minded.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I had a huge beard. It just went along my jawline, so that the rest of my face was bare, except that I may also have had a mustache. The beard was maybe three inches long, made up of bushy, wiry hairs. It was pale, reddish brown. But it also seemed to be coated with some white, frosty stuff, like powdered sugar. The white stuff may actually have been the whiteness of the hairs. I may have thought about trimming my beard. I was surprised I had actually let it get this long.

Dream #2

I was talking with an older man. I needed to move out of my apartment, possibly because of violenced in the neighborhood as well as in the buidling itself. The man was telling me about some sort of hotel that also served as apartments for a lot of people.

I saw outside the apartments on a sunny day. The apartment buildings were smallish, maybe three or four stories tall, and made of red brick. Somewhere was the name of the hotel, something like French Hotels. The place looked okay, but it also seemed a little dumpy.

The older man and I were now inside one of the apartments. I wondered if this place would have bed bugs. As the man continued to talk to me about something, I considered checking under the mattress for bed bugs.

I was now by myself in some other apartment. It was a pretty big apartment, and it felt pretty lonely. I began to think about my current apartment and all the noise I had to deal with there. I thought to one place I'd lived in only recently, but for a few years, where I'd had no troubles with my neighbors, no noise. But, then, I remembered, that place had been a separate house, not an apartment.

I thought over what I'd just thought. It didn't make sense. I had been living in the apartment I was living in right now for a number of years. How could I have recently been living in a house for a number of years as well?

Dream #3

There was an outdoor camp. There were a lot of tents closely packed together outside. Bordering the left side of the tents was a big, concrete wall. Some soldiers stood on the wall or at some kind of watchtower that reached just over the wall.

A soldier was telling a woman, possibly an older, Asian woman, to be very careful in the camp. He may have told her not to leave her tent often and to keep an eye on her children. The soldier said that wild animals were still able to get into the camp.

The soldier said, "I don't mean that a dingo is going to eat your baby or anything."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was flying a helicopter over a river at night. I was coming up on a big cityscape, the lights of which had a low, buzzing, brownish-yellow color, almost like hypnagogic vision.

In the helicopter with me was a good looking man, maybe 15 years older than I, with blonde hair and a tan face. I was giving the man grammar lessons. I was trying to explain something about the way Homer used poetic expressions to give more vividness to his battle scenes.

I pointed out a few examples. But then I felt like I was being too condescending, acting like the man knew nothing about grammar at all. So I tried to think of another way to explain things that would assume more intelligence in the man.

But now the man told me, "I don't care for all that poetic stuff. I believe in direct expression. What's the most concise way you can say something?"

I felt a little ashamed. I agreed with the man. I looked back on all my writing and wondered if I had been concise enough. I doubted it.

I told the man I agreed with him. I was now in a hospital at night. I was in some hall. Eveything was dim, with only a few occasional ceiling lights turned on. I looked into some room through a big, plastic window. I may either have seen a newborn baby in a bed or a very injured adult in critical care.

Dream #2

I was walking into an anime convention. I was in some basement area, walking through a huge hallway into a large main room. The hallway and room were full of people.

I looked behind me. A group of girls was close to me. They might have known me somehow or been my friends. Two of the girls were dressed like Captain Harlock. They looked kind of boyish, but they didn't strike me as being as dashing as Captain Harlock.

Then I saw a third girl dressed as Captain Harlock. She was tall, thin, and blonde. Her face was perfect. I thought she looked terrific. But her hair was cut way too short, and it didn't have any of Harlock's style.

Dream #3

I was in an apartment that wasn't mine. I was probably watching it for somebody. The apartment was really big and nice. It was up on some high floor. The light from the windows was pinkish orange with sunset.

For some reason I decided to leave this place and go home. I went downstairs and outside. But as soon as I was outside I saw how many people there were all over the place. It was too much for me to handle. I suddenly remembered that the Super Bowl was going on, and that everywhere in the city would be like this. It would be better for me to go back upstairs and wait for things to calm down.

But I thought I should get something to eat before I went back upstairs. I was walking along some kind of desert road with something like carnival booths on each side. One of the booths was a Subway store. So I went into the line. I got up to the front pretty quickly. The lady in front of me, kind of short and overweight, ordered something that sounded really good. I tried to remember what she'd ordered, so I could order it, too.

I got an image in my head of miniature pizzas with something like olive paste and lizard eyeballs on it.

Dream #4

I was looking out the window of a house. Down below, a group of people were skating on a snowy pond. There were three people. They wore hooded robes made or rich, red velvet. I recognized the people as being cast member from the show Kids in the Hall. But now they all looked old, ragged, and fat.

They all had these dumb smiles on their faces, as if they were doing a skit about people who thought they were really good skaters when they were actually just morons. They spun quickly (clockwise?). They vanished beneath their robes.

This spiining and vanishing act was carried out twice more. The first time, the men wore green robes. The second time, they wore blue robes.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was telling somebody how the Notorious BIG "could actually write," by which I meant to say that he had very good literary skills. I had apparently known this from letters or messages I'd received from him. I'd also, apparently, had a few conversations with him, and I remembered his voice sounding very gentle and distinguished. At some point Biggie may have been sitting near me, wearing a white t-shirt and sunglasses.

Dream #2

My boss was in some very dim space, before a white wall which, in the dim light, looked faintly purple. It almost looked like the room was lit by a fish tank light.

My boss began throwing up some blackish substance that looked like a mix between dog feces and those ash-worm "fireworks." The substance was small and came out slowly. My boss may even have pulled it out of his mouth. My boss seemed to be extremely uncomfortable and a little afraid.

Dream #3

I was in some room of an apartment with my boss and a couple other people. There were no curtains on the windows, so plenty of light came into the room. It was a bright summer day. The room seemed pretty empty, but the people in the room and our mood made the place seem really stuffy.

The apartment was probably my apartment. My boss or someone else was on the phone with someone, trying to get me moved out of my neighborhood. Apparently something bad had happened here, either to or around me, and the people in my life decided that they needed to get me out of here as soon as possible.

Suddenly my boss seemed jealous of all these people talking about how I had recently had such a hard time in my neighborhood. My boss said, "Well, you know, I live in a pretty tough neighborhood myself. Right now."

As my boss continued his speech, it was like we were driving down some side road in a rolling area full of tall, tan grass. We came to a "T" in the road at the bottom of a short, steep slope and probably turned left.

My boss continued, "My house is just a refurbished house. It used to be a crack house. In fact, when we moved into our place, we found a whole bunch of drugs that the cops have forgotten to clean out. I'd say that's a pretty tough neighborhood!"

Good morning, everybody. I recall two dreams from last night. They're both fragmented.

I've been sick over the past couple days, and my sleep cycle has been all weird. So I think my body has taken whatever sleep it could get, and my dreams have been of secondary concern.

Plus, my boss has been playing some wacky cat and mouse game with me for the past two weeks. I've been stressing out, waiting for some resolution. It gets more stressful each day. That obviously screws with my dream memory, too.

Dream #1

A black and white view, as if of a somewhat modern movie posing as an old, black and white movie. A young, red-haired woman in kind of greasy denim overalls and a button-up work shirt was in her apartment, backed up against a wall or the doorway to a wide closet. The woman looked panicked.

A number of men rushed into the room. They were all big and strong. But the woman had a wrench. She smacked one man on the back of the neck with a wrench. She may have also beat another man with the wrench. The remaining men may have run away or scattered back against the opposite wall of the room, possibly near a radiating heater.

I got the impession of the men's names (or heard the men's names through narration?). The men's names were very similar, mostly like variations of Neil, like Niall, Niell, Nall, and Neil. Another man was either named Duncan or MacDuff.

Dream #2

A girl lay on the top bunk of some tall bunk bed. She noticed that she had bed bugs. Some other person, possibly a child, was probably up on the bunk bed with her. The girl started explaining that she knew she had bed bugs. She may have started explaining how she'd gotten them.

Her explanation became a narration from an adult male voice. The dream's view flew, just beneath the roof, through the girl's house (it might actually have been the girl's house -- i.e. she lived there by herself), to the front door.

The narrator explained how three bugs came in through the crack at the bottom of the door. I now saw three bugs come in. One was a "bed bug" (it was kind of a brownish, beetle-like creature). Another was a strange bug that looked like a mix between a big roach and a shaggy-looking trilobite. The last was possibly some kind of black beetle.

The narrator explained how each of the three bugs was attracted by some different element in the house. The narrator seemed to disregard the black beetle altogether throughout his explanation.

The narrator began with the shaggy trilobite. The trilobite had been attracted by some kind of mucousy substance on the floor. As the trilobite scurried along the floor, following this mucousy trail, which would have been unnoticeable to the human eye, it also created a mucousy trail. The trilobite may have ended up somewhere like the kitchen.

I didn't care much about the trilobite, and I was wondering when the narrator would finally get to the bed bugs. Finally the narrator explained the way bed bugs got into the house. I missed or forgot the explanation. I just saw the girl's bed again, the high bunk bed, dizzyingly high off the ground, almost touching the ceiling.

Good morning, everybody. My dream recall from last night is pretty fragmented, especially for the first dream.

Dream #1

In the context of something else I can no longer remember, I was looking at a website which offered some kind of songwriting (?) service. The user would either be charged by word written or by number of whole songs (?) written, depending on how many songs had been written and how long the songs were.

Dream #2

I was coming home at night. I was across the street from "my apartment building." I looked up to the windows of "my apartment" and saw that my lights were on. This, I knew, meant that someone was in my place, as if someone had broken into my place and was just hanging around in there while I was away.

I was now in "my apartment." I was going from room to room, trying to find whether the person was still there. I had a lot of rooms.

In one of the rooms, possibly the bathroom, I pulled back the curtains to the window. I saw that the window was wide open. I knew that the person who had come in here had gotten in through this window.

I went through the rooms, trying to find evidence that someone had been in my place. Was anything missing or misplaced? Was anything in disarray? But I don't think I found anything wrong. I may eventually have found some mess under or on top of a bed in a dim bedroom.

I eventually had one of my friends come over to investigate as well. I don't recognize my friend, and I'm not sure I ever saw him directly in the dream. He was an older, tall, white man with carefully arranged, grey, wavy hair. He wore a very nice suit.

At some point the man and I had left the apartment. I probably had to go on with my normal daily life despite the threat of this house invader.

But the man had an idea. If I stayed close to the apartment but I made it look like I had left the apartment building with no intention of coming back, perhaps the intruder would come back.

So now the old man and I were milling around in the deli near my building. I was probably looking at some bags of chips.

At some point, it may have become evident that the intruder was back in my place. The old man and I may have headed back to the place.

Dream #3

I was watching some old clip of a role Sarah Silverman had had as a child. Apparently she was in some kind of show about high school kids But she looked as young as an elementary school kid. She was also wearing a costume that looked like a plush easter bunny costume, except that it was Elmo-red.

Silverman stood on some huge stage, like for the Lawrence Welk show. The stage and the background were a seamless pink. Silverman stood with a young male friend beside a minivan, which was being displayed, as if for a game show. The front of the minivan was pointed toward the back of the stage.

Silverman was doing some act where she was supposed to be giving a huge, smart monologue about all the great characteristics of this prize minivan. But, as part of the act, she kept screwing up her lines until, out of frustration, she (still part of the act) threw the boy into the minivan and then slammed the sliding door shut.

Silverman then got into the front seat of the van. The shot was from the inside of the van now. It felt like the van was also oriented in the opposite direction.

Silverman was still giving some kind of monologue as she pouted and slouched in the seat, her knees up against the steering wheel. The monologue was supposed to be funny.

But the audience (of whom I hadn't been aware previously) was booing Silverman. Apparently they had been really offended by the way she had thrown the young man in the car, even though it had only been meant to be the comedic climax to her act.

Good morning everybody. This dream definitely ended around 1 AM. I had gone to bed at about 9:30 PM.

Although the end of this dream is very interesting (by my standards -- my dreams are tame compared to the others on this site!), and although it seems pretty spontaneous, I feel it was actually influenced by waking life -- namely by the part in Emiko's dream from yesterday where the boy tells her his name is Thomas.

Dream #1

I was in an apartment. Some stuff here happened that I no longer remember.

A young, pretty, and somehow motherly woman then told me something about how the doors of the apartment were open. This meant something like I would now be able to get back into the apartment, whereas before, I think, once I'd gone out I couldn't come back. The woman asked me to go pick up some kind of food.

I left the apartment. It was night. The apartment was a two-story building with outdoor balconies connecting the second story apartments. The area around the apartment felt like it was under construction or like it had been neglected or destoyed.

I think I was now planning to ask my cousin for the food the young woman had requested. I crossed the street to where my cousin lived. The building was a "college dorm," but it actually looked like a military living space for in the desert. It was long, half-cylindrical, and painted green.

I was now inside. The space was like a small supply warehouse. The floors were concrete. The space was lit by lamps hanging from the ceiling. There were a lot of young men around. They were largely congregating toward the back of this structure, where there was a big TV.

This was the first day of something like college or an extended trip that these guys were taking during college. The guys had all just settled into their dorms.

Along the left and right walls were doorways leading to a bedroom. Each boy had a bedroom. Beside each doorway was a small kitchenette and a small washer-dryer combo. I had a hard time telling whether each boy had his own kitchenette, washer, and dryer, or whether two rooms each shared one set. I either couldn't tell or didn't wonder where the bathrooms were.

I knew that I also had a room here. But I figured I'd probably continue living in the apartment. The boys all seemed cool. But I had a feeling that if I lived around them too long, I'd attract their bad attention and make a bad situation for myself.

I wondered if I had food of my own in the kitchenette that belonged to me. But I didn't concern myself with checking. I knew I'd come here to find my cousin.

I found my cousin at the back of the structure, near the TV. He may have looked like a kid. We spoke for a little while. We were then met by a boy my cousin introduced me to as C, a boy from my cousin's neighborhood. C, who had been short, thin, and pale as a kid, was now tall, tan, and muscular. I was surprised to find myself attracted to him.

I heard some noise in waking life that began to wake me from my dream.

But I still lay in a dream state. I had a vision of three figures. They looked like "little girl in dress" figures cut out of felt and made to interlock. One figure was black; one, grey; and one, white.

I very sensibly heard the figures speaking. They spoke in male and female voices. They were talking about how they had been dream characters but how, now that the dream was ending, they were going back to some place where they spent the rest of their time.

They were speaking with each other in a joking, familiar tone about the stuff they had shown me during my dream. One of the female voices addressed another character as David. The name David affected me for a number of reasons, which I was very aware of, having to do with both family members and big world events that had happened when I was young.

I had the understanding that these characters were actually elements of my personality, and that at this moment they were all autonomous to interact with each other, apart from me. It was kind of like being able to look in from the outside on a schizophrenic episode, which kind of worried me.

I could now sense the characters sinking away somewhere, possibly into the base of my brain, or the very top of the back of my neck.

I now had a beautiful hypnagogic vision: a black background filled with twirling squares and circles, curtains full, of purple, scale-like shapes. This vision buzzed around for a while, then faded away into waking life altogether.

Good morning, everybody. I recall three dreams from "last night" -- although these dreams all come from about the last hour that I was in bed.

Dream #1

I was in "my house," which was a two-floor house. I was in a bedroom on the second floor of the house. The curtains were pulled back. Outside, the sky looked grey and cold.

I may have just moved into this house. I was kind of surprised that I had so much space. I'd never had this much space in my life. Still, the place wasn't huge. It was two floors, but it was rather narrow.

Nevertheless, as I walked down the stairs to the first floor, I thought that people would see a guy like me living in a place like this, and, getting jealous, they'd try to break into my place.

I tried to think of what I could do to prevent a break-in. I thought I would never use anything I owned while sitting near a window on the second floor. That way nobody would ever see that I actually owned anything.

I thought that the only thing I would do on the first floor would be to watch TV, even though I thought that would be dangerous, too. But I figured that everybody owned a TV. So why would anybody want mine, too?

I considered what I would watch on TV. I wondered if I had cable TV. I hadn't owned a TV in quite some tiime. Maybe everybody got cable TV nowadays. Or maybe, I thought, this place was like a hotel. And all hotels had cable TV. I may have considered watching some porn.

Dream #2

I was in a living room of an apartment with a group of friends, none of whom I recognize. The friends were all young, pretty cool. The living room was a little dim, as if it were lit only from a light in the hallway, around a corner.

I sat on the floor before a coffee table that was set against the wall. A stereo stood on the coffee table. Cluttered before the stereo were huge binders full of lists of karaoke songs.

I had one book open and was flipping through the pages, trying to find a particular song. But the book was full of pictures instead of titles. Each page may have had two or three CD-sized pictures on each side. One picture I remember of a person (man?) standing over a dark landscape under a purple sky.

There were so few pictures per page and so few pages in this book, that I thought the chances were slim of my song being in this book. And I couldn't figure out how the songs were arranged: not in alphabetical order, but in some kind of picture order -- if they were, in fact, in any order at all.

I concluded that my song wasn't in this particular book. Somebody may have taken the book from me. I shuffled through some of the other books. I may now not even have been able to remember what song I wanted to sing.

The covers of the binders were all really awesome. They had all kinds of flaming designs of people,guitars, and monsters. Each binder held song lists for a specific genre of music, and the picture on the front represented the genre. Sometimes the picture actually had the name of the genre written above it in fancy lettering.

I finally chose a certain binder, figuring this was the genre of music I wanted to sing, so that the song I'd been looking for all along would probably be in this binder.

Dream #3

I was at "my house," an apartment on the upper floor of a big building. The apartment probably had a living room and two or three bedrooms.

The apartment was busy with a few other people, probably all older than me, some of them somewhat older. There weren't a lot of people in the apartment, but the craziness of their actions made it feel like the place was stuffed with people. The living room was bright, frenetic, and totally messy.

The apartment was all mine, but the people who were here right now were trying to move in and stay here. For some reason, I really wasn't doing much about it.

Just off from the living room was a small, bright hallway. At the end of the hallway was a little niche, in which was set a white, wood chest of drawers. The chest was a little more than a meter tall, and maybe 2/3 of a meter wide.

Some old, short, fat, white man with a balding head, scraggly, grey hair, and a loose, stubbly face, had one of the drawers open and was crowding me away from it. I was fighting the man, trying to get him out of my stuff. This was my chest, and the man had no right messing around with it.

But the man kept shoving me off. He was pouring stuff into the top drawer from out of a garbage bag. The old man himself may have been wearing a weird outfit that looked like a mix between a potato sack, long underwear, a mattress, and a garbage bag.

I looked into the drawer. It looked like there were a bunch of small, empty,glass vials inside. It looked like vials that had once held drugs. I got really mad. Was this guy pouring garbage bags full of drugs and drug paraphernalia all over my house?

(Good morning, everybody. This is a really long entry. Sorry.

I remember three dreams from last night. The first two dreams happened sometime between midnight and 5 AM. The third dream was between about 5:30 AM and 7 AM.

I became lucid in the third dream, and sustained my lucidity for quite a while. But I think it was mainly because I “conserved my energy” and didn’t really try anything out of my normal range of dream-activity.)

Dream #1

I was coming back to “my apartment.” I was walking through a building that itself was as big as a small neighborhood. I walked through one area, a huge room with tall ceilings and wood walls.

As I walked through the area, I went past a young man and woman who were possibly standing outside the door to the woman’s apartment. The door may have been pale blue.

The woman was very pretty, with copper-colored skin and long, straight, black hair. The man was handsome, white, tall, with blonde hair about down to his shoulders. He wore a grey, wool cap and some winter clothes.

The man was telling the woman that he would make sure her move went smoothly. She was apparently moving to another place, and she was nervous about it. I gathered, from the man’s speech to the woman, that the man would make sure she didn’t experience the same harassment she’d experienced at her present apartment.

But as I was walking past the couple (I didn’t actually get very close to them, and I had to exit via another door into another room in order to get to “my building”), the man and woman expressed some kind of concern that I was going to get them in trouble. It was as if, as well as the woman experiencing harassment from some group of people, the man and the woman had themselves been accused of causing trouble in their neighborhood. They thought I was the kind of person who would get them in trouble again.

I walked softly and quickly through the door, trying my best to give an impression to the man and woman that I was nice, that I wouldn’t harass the woman, and that I wouldn’t get the man and woman in trouble – in other words, that I would just mind my own business.

I walked into the next area, which was like a mix between some completely forgotten room or corridor in an enormous mansion and a back alley. A light shone from high above, and at the heights of the room, it was dark as night, though it was light enough near the floor. The walls were wood, and the floor had a pale, blue-grey carpeting. But there was junk everywhere, like tattered cardboard boxes, wadded up pieces of wrapping plastic, and other garbage. There seemed to be turns and staircases here and there, leading up to other “apartment buildings.”

I walked toward my building, which didn’t even have a front door, just a staircase leading up to a winding ramp into darkness. My landlord, an older, black man or woman, stood at the top of or on one of the curves in the ramp. He/she apparently knew I was coming home, so he/she was waiting to welcome me back. I may have been away for a few days, doing something like visiting my family.

I didn’t realize, but the young man had followed me all the way here. My “building,” it turned out, was the building that the young woman would be staying in. I thought that for sure the man would now be panicked. He and the woman had been so afraid to begin with that I would get them in trouble. And now it looked like I had “reverse followed” him all the way to the woman’s new residence.

I tried to act natural and cool, to make the man understand I wasn’t going to do anything mean to him or the woman. I spoke a little bit with the landlord, in a kind of easy, happy tone. I then said I was going to head on in to my room and get a little rest.

As I headed toward my room, through a door along a dim balcony facing at an odd angle to the ramps and the long alley-corridor, I heard the landlord now speaking with the young man. I thought, Why not prove that I’m a good guy, and let the young man see inside my room? Once he sees how lived-in my place is, he’ll know I’ve been here a few years, I’m a decent guy, and that I won’t do anything rude or mean to the woman or him?

So I called attention to the landlord and the young man. I had them come over to my room. I opened the door to my room. The room was humongous and dim. But I could tell, just by glancing inside, that the room was a complete mess – a disaster! Plus, the place just let out a horrendous smell, like tons and tons of socks that hadn’t been washed for months!

I quickly closed the door and told the landlord and young man nevermind, that I must have forgotten what I wanted to tell them. They walked away, kind of disappeared.

I suddenly felt suspicious of the young man. I felt that, now that he’d seen even just a little into my room, and he’d seen where I live, that he’d try to break into my room. I closed my door. I walked slowly away, as if I was trying to put on some kind of show that I didn’t really live in this apartment.

I suddenly recognized that, just beyond my door, the wall to my room only went up to about the middle of my chest. You could see inside the room just by standing out on the balcony. I looked inside, hoping that nothing of value would be easily spotted, prompting the young man to break into my house and steal things.

All I could see, though, anywhere, was a bunch of clutter and garbage. I felt like there was no way I could have left my place this way when I’d left. Had I been that neglectful of things? Or had I been gone so long that my place just kind of dissolved into these shambles of itself?

I walked around the corner of the balcony, now facing some dim corner of the alley-corridor directly, but still having a good view into my room.

Down below, in my room, I saw a huge, pale-blue, L-shaped couch. It was completely torn up. The stuffing of the couch was bloating out of the cushions, and a black, metal frame jutted out the edges.

Suddenly, my mother burst out from the inside of the couch. She scrambled out of the couch cushions. She then rabidly twitched and scratched against the couch, tearing it even more to pieces. She looked terrible, like she’d become some kind of wild animal.

I was terrified by this. But I quickly became indignant. Who had allowed my mother into my apartment? I ran down the balcony to find someone to complain to.

I ended up on some dark hilltop, under a small tree. It was pitch black night, but I could see, as if a car from somewhere were shining its lights on the scene. There were a few people wandering around, possibly Hispanic.

I found my father, who was almost cartoonishly wide. He was also dressed somewhat like a clown, in red clothes with pink and orange polka-dots. He may even have worn a clown-nose.

I yelled at my dad, “Why did you let my mom into my apartment?”

My dad gave me some kind of excuse that sounded half-hearted but official, so that I couldn’t really argue against it.

Dream #2

I was in a subway station, waiting for the train to come. I was in a far-off, unfamiliar neighborhood, and I had been doing some kind of activity that made me tired and ready to go back somewhere familiar.

The subway station was more like the lobby for a building like a hospital. I sat at a table in an area that looked like a makeshift café. The serving counter may have been in a small room, off to my right. Behind me, there may have been the main lobby area, large and bright, with a lot of sunlight flowing through the window-walls.

To my left was a wide doorway, through which I could see one subway platform. Through a kind of dim, plasticky window at the opposite end of the room and in front of me, I could see another subway platform.

I pulled out a book, crossed my legs, slumped in my chair, and started reading. A couple of teenage boys sat down a couple of tables away from me. They were making jokes with each other, pretty relaxed. They seemed cool. But for some reason, I didn’t want them to notice me. I thought they might start trouble.

Suddenly I could see, from some kind of reflection, that the train on the platform to my left was coming. It seemed to be coming without warning and very quickly. In a rush, the boys and I stood up from our tables and ran to the platform.

But I didn’t want the boys to know I got on this train. I felt that if they knew this about me they could hurt me somehow. So I tried to act like I wasn’t getting onto this train.

But when I got out to the platform (which was huge, wide, with tall ceilings, nothing like in NYC), the train wasn’t there. I heard the rushing of a train to my left. I looked and saw, down the platform, and up at the top of a tall staircase, a different train arriving at another platform. Was it just that train I’d heard? But I could have sworn I’d seen the train arrive on this platform, as well as heard it.

I looked down into the well for the train and tracks for my platform – and was terribly shocked! Instead of tracks, the floor was completely empty, trackless, and painted a bright yellow. There were no tracks! No train could ever have arrived here! But I was sure this was where the train was supposed to be – where I had actually seen it arrive!

I felt terribly foggy all of the sudden, as if I had fallen into a different world.

I heard the train on the second platform, off to my right, arriving. I thought I’d take that train. But I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere close to where I wanted to go. I knew I’d just have to take this train, at this platform, whenever it came, no matter how long it took.

So I went back into the café area to go back to reading my book.

Dream #3

I was in my great-grandmother’s house. I had apparently been there for a long time. The place looked nothing like it had looked while my great-grandmother was alive: it was dim, grey-blue, and strewn garbage, household items, and even streams of toilet paper.

I walked around in the kitchen and dining room, possibly picking up and eating and drinking pieces of food and drink that had been left out for a long time on dirty plates and in dirty, grimy cups. There may also have been dirty, rusty knives, or something like that, somewhere.

I walked back into the living room. I felt like I had isolated myself in my great-grandmother’s house for so long. It had been days. Here I’d been, back home all this time, and I hadn’t visited my mother once!

I thought I’d give her a call and let her know I was at my great-grandma’s house, and that she could come visit me or maybe even pick me up so we could go somewhere to visit with each other. But I hesitated – I now felt so guilty having neglected my mother for all these days, that I knew just calling her would cause me a lot of heart-breaking pain.

I was suddenly in “my bedroom” at “my house.” The room was clean, a little barren. Nice sunlight flowed in through the window. It was cheerful enough. But it felt somehow lonely – not just lonely, but sterile, padded.

Something about this feeling made me realize I was dreaming. I realized I was now lucid. I told myself to keep calm and just go exploring this place as if it were a real environment.

(Oddly enough, when I became lucid, I may have “transformed” into a tallish, white, young man with tanned skin, blue eyes, and short-shaved, blonde hair. I have no idea why.)

I walked out of the bedroom and into “my living room.” I was in a suburban house. The house looked small and nice. But it was completely empty. It had thick, brown carpet.

I walked very slowly, to keep my emotions calm. I was heading for the front door. This was a kind of challenge for me, and I knew (even in my dream-state), that I had to keep calm in order to do this. I knew, I remembered (the truth, not a false memory – I mean, insofar as etc., etc.) that when I’d become lucid indoors in the past, my lucidity would end as soon as I walked outside, as if I hadn’t believed my imagination could “create” an outdoor space.

I got to the door. It had a strange bolt-lock on it, which I thought was kind of over-doing things. I worked the lock out and pulled open the door.

It was a bright, sunshiny day in a suburban neighborhood. I told myself to remain calm, remember this was all a dream, and just explore the place like it was a real environment.

My front yard was a tangle of flowery vegetation and rough, dark shrubs. There was a driveway off to my right, with a big, brown, 1970s-style car.

A blonde man, very tan, with a long tangle of hair and beard, was messing around near “my car.” He looked crazy, and I was afraid of him. But I was also pissed that he was messing around my car. So I yelled at him, “Hey! Hey! What are you doing?”

The crazy man hunched up (he never really stood) and turned toward me. He shouted and growled and barked all kinds of weird things at me and started rambling toward me violently. For some reason, he was holding a Panini and a paper plate in his hands, as if he had been eating a Panini when he’d seen my car and decided to vandalize it or rip it off.

It seemed as if the crazy man were going to try to invade my home. So I yelled at him, “Don’t you come near!”

The neighbor from the house to my left, an Asian man, in his late 30s or early 40s, wearing glasses, a pink-red polo shirt, and khaki shorts, walked out of his house and into my yard. He’d heard the commotion and was coming to help me.

I yelled again at the crazy man to back off and not to come anywhere near my home. But I also tried to make it seem to my neighbor like I had the situation under control. I felt like this crazy man was somehow important to whatever I was supposed to learn from this lucid dream. So I had to keep him at a distance without scaring him away entirely. I also wanted to make sure my neighbor didn’t scare away the crazy man.

Off to my right, in my garden, I saw a strange plant that looked like a Cleome topped with a cabbage. The cabbage was pink and white, like Cleome flowers.

Somehow, either my yelling my neighbor’s yelling had finally scared away the crazy man. He ran off. I, and possibly my neighbor, ran after him.

He ran down toward a chain link fence that ran along the crest of a kind of tall, kind of steep, cliff-like hill. I was calling to the crazy man to stop. I wasn’t trying to do him harm. But my neighbor was running faster than me, and he was chasing the crazy man quite violently.

The crazy man found a bent-up part of chain-link fence and crawled under it. I followed. I saw the crazy man run down the steep, brown hill-face, jumping into a shallow, muddy river or creek at the bottom.

My neighbor was still ahead of me, intent on capturing the crazy man. But once the crazy man was in the water, he did something to himself so that my neighbor could no longer see him. He had changed his wild, blonde hair into a weird, pink, green, and white, spiky flower style, looking like a hairdo-mix of a Cleome and a lotus. He ducked down low in the creek so that only his head was above water.

But I could still see that it was the crazy man. I wondered why my neighbor couldn’t. Nothing was different about the crazy man’s face: it was just his hair that looked like a lotus floating on the water.

I could see that the crazy man was drifting toward a group of copper-skinned, black haired children who were playing and splashing about near the creek’s banks. I thought that it might be a good idea to get the crazy man away from the children. He had gone over to them to blend in with them until we left. But I had a feeling that if he suddenly went crazy again, he could hurt the kids.

But now the crazy man and my neighbor were gone. I stood in some rocky area, looking down to the kids playing in the creek. At some point I looked over to my right and saw that there was a subway station, just jutting in a platform out of the hill, as if it were half-finished, forgotten. But it also looked new, clean, modern, even futuristic. And it was functional.

I saw some kids, maybe pre-teen or teenage, playing around near the platform, waiting for the train. I was up near the top of the hill now (which, instead of being muddy or earthy, was now rocky). I was at a pretty level view with the platform and with the kids. I hoped they wouldn’t notice me, because I didn’t want them to start trouble with me.

My emotions got so unstable that I felt my lucidity fading away.

But instead of the dream continuing, not lucid, everything blacked out. I told myself, you’re losing your lucidity. You’re waking up altogether. Go back to being in the dream, and being lucid.

So now I was back in the dream, lucid. I lay, stomach down, over some ledge of rock, looking down to some of the kids playing in the creek. They may have been a boy and a girl. They noticed me and started handing me toys to play with with them. One of the toys was a plastic horse.

I played around with the horse a little bit, then handed it back to the kids, who went back into the water.

I walked into the subway station. Inside, it seemed like it had become night. The station was lit gently with a kind of street-quality, greenish, fluorescent flood-lamp. The walls were a brownish stone, and the floors were some kind of granite-like grey. There was a downward staircase in the center of the lobby-area, and there were a few different corridors leading off from the main lobby-area.

I walked down one of the corridors off to my right. I heard a bunch of teenage kids who sounded like they were joking and having a good time. I decided that I should probably talk with the kids instead of being nervous and shy around them. This was a dream, and I was here to explore whatever I ran into.

So I saw the kids. They were a group of white boys and girls, dressed in kind of loose baggy sweaters and wool caps. They were making a bunch of jokes which struck me as intelligent and funny. I thought I’d talk to them. But they really didn’t pay any attention to me. So, rather than trying to hard to get their attention and getting hostile attention, I walked down another corridor.

But now I heard somebody calling for me. I wound around through the corridors, back to the area where the kids had been. It had definitely sounded like one of the boys, calling me back to be part of the group.

But when I got back to the area – something like a lobby, with a long, wooden counter at the front of the room, and a tall, nice painting on the cinder-block wall to my left – there were no kids, only two women. The women were both naked. They walked toward me, side by side.

The woman on the right was very tall, maybe a foot taller than I (or “I” in the dream). She was naked, but she wore a dark-blue plume of feathers as a headdress and a spray of dark blue feathers around her waist and back. She looked like a burlesque performer.

The woman on the left was still taller than I, maybe by an inch or two. She was pale, with long, curly, light-red hair. The women were both offering themselves to me for sex. I chose the shorter woman.

The woman stood right in front of me, almost to the point of pressing up to me. I asked her a question, and she replied. Satisfied, I began kissing her body.

We had sex in two or three different positions. But in one position I realized I was just doing a terrible job, and that I must just be making a weird situation for the woman, even though she did at least appear to be having fun. Regardless, I got so ashamed of what I perceived as being my stupid clumsiness that I woke up.

Good morning, everybody. I had no dream recall over the weekend. But I recall three dreams from last nignt.

Dream #1

I had been looking through a series of photos, possibly with my mother and an unidentified male. The photos were either of people who had some kind of congenital deformation or who had been tortured and mutilated. A lot of the victims in the photos had bloody eyes.

My mother asked me if I wanted to see the last photo, which was apparently the worst. I tried to see it, but it was now like I had to walk through a series of white bedsheets just to get to the photo.

I had an image in my head of a young, white man with lightly tanned skin and long, curly, blonde hair. I told myself, He's gotten so deformed, he's even growing fingers out of his head.

I was afraid to see the photo. But I may finally have seen it. The man had bloody eyes, just like the people in all the other photos.

Dream #2

I was in a dark room that was like a bedroom but was also like some kind of big, back room that might be used for storage in a shop or theatre. I was floating around, possibly disembodied, possibly only a couple feet off the ground.

I was imagining or remembering a conversation I'd had with an Asian man who had just auditioned for a rock band I was starting up. Apparently there were a lot of similar auditions going on. I had asked the man if he had made any plans to be in any of the other bands, as if to say that being in my band would be his second or third choice. By this, I seemed to imply that he would really only be my second or third choice.

The man had replied that this band was the only band he was interested in joining. I was disappointed. But I also felt bad for making the man feel like he was only my second or third choice. I probablly decided, while floating around, disembodied, in this dim room, that I would have this man in my band. I may have felt at this time that the man was in a dark bedroom off to the side of this room.

I may have floated up a wheelchair ramp toward the front of this dim room. I may have seen the exit to this room. The door was open, revealing a hallway that looked like a hotel hallway.

I floated back down toward the back of the room. I started singing a rock song that I was making up on the spur of the moment for the man. The song was about how hard it was to be in a rock band, but how, if he wanted to be in my band, he could.

As I sang this song, I floated around a small pile of junk on the floor, then back up to the front of the room.

Dream #3

A young man was living in some gigantic apartment building. He had gotten mixed up with some young men who were starting up trouble in the building.

The young man had a friend who was keeping away from the troublemakers. The troublemakers had decided to hurt the friend.

The young man was torn by this. He wanted to be part of the troublemakers' gang. But he didn't want to hurt his friend. He'd thought the gang had actually stood for something. Now he was starting to wonder.

The young man went into his aunt's apartment, which was little more than a bed-sized room. The aunt, who looked like Aunt Bea from Andy Griffith, sat, maybe on the edge of her bed, using a sewing machine. Her "sewing" project was a series of colored strings that ran, like a spider web, up to the ceiling, then back down to a white sheet hung on the front wall, beside and over the bed.

The young man had to walk on the bed to get from the door, on the left side of the room, over to the side of the room. As the young man walked over, his aunt gave him a big speech. It was about where the young man would have to live if he went to prison, and particularly to death row. The aunt would have to follow this man wherever he'd go. Apparently this might even involve going to "the Gulf Coast of Mars."

The aunt said she didn't want to have to move to some new apartment building on Mars or anywhere else, so the young man better just shape up.

The young man finally understood that the troublemakers were just criminals, and that they didn't actually stand for anything. He decided to quit the gang and try to save his friend. He walked back over the bed and out of his aunt's apartment.

I was worried for the young man, his friend, and his aunt. I thought for sure the friend would be killed. But I also could imagine a scene where the aunt's sewing project was destroyed --vandalized -- by the gang because the aunt had taken a stand against the gang.

Good morning everybody. I remember two dreams from last night. I wrote them down late, so my day memory might be clouding them up a little.

Two side notes: the bowling alley in the first dream comes from an msn.com photo article I read about huge mansions. Almost every mansion had a movie theatre and a bowling alley.

Also, the cops coming to my house is from my waking life. My upstairs neighbors always slam and slam on the floor. I feel like it's done to hurt me, like they don't want me around. It's been going on for a long time. I've finally called the police, because it's gotten so constant, loud, and violent that I'm afraid to come home. I feel terrible for calling, because I've never wanted to be the kind of person who calls the police on people. But I also have a fear of the police.

Dream #1

I was in a car with my old friends D and Y, riding through the parking lot of a bowling alley. It was probably night time. D was probably driving the car.

We let Y out, probably to run in and get a lane. For some reason, the car now seemed to be gone. D and I were walking away from the bowling alley, as if we had finished the game and were walking to the car.

I really wasn't happy to have to hang around with D, and I think I was making that known to him. At some point it became dark, like at night. D was wearing a shiny, black leather jacket. I asked him how his life was. He broke down and started crying about how his mother had died.

It was daytime again. I felt really bad for D, and I tried to comfort him. He kind of brushed me off and told me it was fine. Apparently his mother had had a terminal disease which acted very quickly on her. D told me something his mother had told him before she died, which made him feel better about the whole thing. It made me think of toothpaste for some reason.

We had been wandering through the first few rows of the parking lot, more like we were waiting for Y to arrive with the car again, although it was also like we were trying to find the car. But now we were walking back toward the bowling alley.

The parking lot had been asphalt. But now it was dirt. The dust was floating up into the blue sky, as if there were a lot of traffic or wind in the parking lot, even though I couldn't see any activity.

Some old friends of ours came up to me and D. They started saying a lot of teasing things to D. But I got really angry and threatening with them, telling them to leave D alone, he'd had to deal with enough already. Everybody said sorry and left D alone.

We were all walking back toward the bowling alley. We were close to the building, but the actual entrance now felt so far away. I somehow got separated from the rest of the group. I walked all by myself, in a stretch of dirt road between the building-front's sidewalk and a long strip of concrete island.

The ruts in the ground looked like horse carriages ran through it. I thought to myself, Of course they do. That's how things worked in the Old West. And that's where I am.

I wondered where the heck the car was. I couldn't remember if I was going into the bowling alley or going home. But if I was going home, I wanted to get in the car and go. And if I was going into the bowling alley, I wanted to take the car to get there quicker.

But I thought to myself, No car is ever going to come pick you up, dummy. This is the Old West. We didn't have cars back then.

Dream #2

I had called the police because the people upstairs from me were slamming and slamming on the floor again. It was morning, and the light in my bedroom was grey and slightly dim. The police knocked on my door.

I opened the door. There was just one officer: a short, slightly overweight, black woman in her late 40s or early 50s. She told me that I had called the police so many times that I was now under investigation myself. She would have to search my house.

I said fine. I let her in. I just let her go wherever she wanted in my house. I went back to my bed and lay down. I figured that I wouldn't follow the officer around. That would look suspicious, like I had something to hide, which I didn't.

But I slowly realized that my apartment was actually very large (which it is definitely not in waking life). I realized I had a lot of rooms, and that as soon as the officer saw how many rooms I had, she'd get jealous of me and try to find some reason to arrest me.

So I started running through the house, trying to find the officer. I figured that I'd explain how much room I had in this house by telling the officer that my mother also lived here with me.

I was actually surprised by how many rooms I had in the house. I hadn't realized this place was so big. But a lot of the rooms were done up in such a hyper-girly way, with pink and purple colors, stuffed animals, and fluffy, lacy bed covers, that I felt like someone other than I had to have been living here. I gradually became convinced that my mother was in fact living here with me.

Now, confident that my story was the truth, I felt like I could confront the officer with my story, preventing her from getting jealous and throwing me in jail for some made up reason.

I found the officer in a hyper-girly room, sitting on the bed. She started talking to me about something, but I can't remember what. All I remember is that she seemed to be very sad.

Good morning everybody. It's Saturday, so I have some time for side notes. Usually I post my dreams via phone, on my subway ride in to the city.

I remember five dreams from last night. But I can't remember any of them very well. I've been pounding NyQuil every night, and that really affects my recall -- though it doesn't seem to affect the weirdness of my dreams too much.

Looking back on these dreams, it seems pretty obvious a lot of the imagery comes from a photo article msn.com had yesterday about huge mansions. A lot of the mansions had movie theatres. And one of the mansions had the "organic shape" of the science lab in the first dream.

I was lucid for about half a second in the fourth dream. I seldom get a solid lucid dream. Maybe once a year. I don't try. Lucidity, like meditation and OBEs, seems to be bad for my nerves rather than good. I don't know why. I usually let my dream life just take its course.

Also -- sorry to MoSh for appropriating his avatar into the fifth dream. I think I have found the dream-sharing interactions on this site so interesting here that I made up a DC to dream-share with.

Dream #1

I was in a restaurant with my female friend T. The restaurant was nice, dim, with tall tables and chairs, all widely spaced. There were very few people in the restaurant. However, I ended up talking with some guy sitting a few tables away from us.

The guy and I ended up talking about spiders. I was trying to make some point about how spiders are actually nicer than a lot of people think. I was trying to use some weird etymological (not entomological) argument.

Eventually I turned to T and asked, "How do you say 'phobia of spiders?'"

T asked, "In Japanese or French?"

I said, "In French, of course!" as if the argument had all been based on French etymology.

T gave me the phrase. But as she did, it was also like I was trying to work through the phrase in my own mind, trying to recall it for myself. As I did so, it was like T was explaining a whole series of things regarding phobias.

T expanded over my whole field of view. Darkness surrounded her. She was eating some kind of tofu soup. I now focused deeply on one of the cubes of tofu. It seemed to break in the broth. The fragments dissolved and became something like stars in the darkness.

As this happened, T was explaining the optical, neurological, and muscular processes of a phobia. As she finished her discussion, the stars became directed toward moving out of some kind of wall. I seemed to be moving with the stars. They pushed out through and past the wall. I went with the.

Outside the wall, I looked back to see that this "wall" had been some kind of half sphere of organic material, like a microscopic picture of a spore. The view of this was in black and white, with all the outlines and ridges of the "spore" in white and all the smooth parts of the spore and the spore's surroundings in black.

As this was occurring, I heard T say, "You see, we can take any sort of psychological process, such as the phobia of spiders, determine its physical characteristics, even down to the temperature change of the body, and re-engineer an organism through these phenomena. And that is how we've created our first mouse."

I was now floating deep in the blue waters of a sea. I saw, down at the sea's floor, an organically curved building, which I recognized as a research lab, covered in sand.

I thought to myself, Why would they have created a mouse? Wouldn't they have created a human from all that human data? But I then realized that you would first have to create small animals, then work your way up to larger animals. I also realized that all of this would have to take place in the depths of the sea, because you'd need the pressure.

I now saw inside the research lab. I saw inside an office that was unlit. The only light coming into the office was from another room, and from the wall-sized window which showed the blue sea outside.

A man sat in the office. He was young, tall, strong, tan-skinned, with slightly curly hair that went just below his shoulders and gentle blue-green eyes. He wore a slightly loosed blue-green t-shirt and blue jeans.

The man was on an old-style, big cell phone with his girlfriend. He was talking about how hard this work was. He sometimes wondered if it was even worth it for him to continue. He also wondered something like whether it was ethical for him to be doing this kind of work.

But he then told his girlfriend, "But, hey, they're paying me 30 a month! That's right! I mean 30 Gs!"

I quickly did the calculation and realized this was a lot of money.

Dream #2

I was in a stadium-style movie theatre. The movie was playing. The movie theatre was relatively empty. In fact, the only people who were there, I think, were friends of mine. The movie theatre may have been part of something like a hotel or resort, and we all may have been at this resort for some specific lesson or project.

I saw my friend T down a few rows from me. I went down to her row and started flirting with her. We ended up cuddling, and getting to the point where I had her long skirt pushed up pretty far on her legs. I thought we might even be getting ready to go back to her room.

But T got up and went somewhere else. I sat watching the movie for a little while. Then I saw an extremely attractive, blonde woman in her mid-20s down a couple of rows from me. I didn't know her, but I went to talk to her. She was very well-groomed, and she wore a pale purple, fuzzy sweater and a long skirt.

We were talking for a little while. Then she started leaning and nuzzling against me. I thought I probably shouldn't respond so much to her, after I had been messing with T and getting her so excited. But I eventually got so aroused by the woman's advances that I began responding.

We started getting pretty involved. I thought to myself, All my friends are in the rows behind and above me. They can all see what I'm doing, right after I'd been doing it with T. What will they think? And what if T is still back there?

The blonde woman and I were now in some store that looked like a dollar store full of Christmas decorations. We were embracing each other fondly and calmly, as if comfortable with the thought of soon being in bed with each other. We stood near a wall-height window in the store. The sunlight was bright and golden-white.

Suddenly I could sense T coming from some part of the store behind us. I thought, I can't let T see me like this! She'll be so upset! She likes me so much!

So I took the blonde woman, folded her up (like she was now only three feet tall), and shoved her into a clear-plastic shelf. The shelf was also holding metallic red and gold letter-shaped Christmas streamers wrapped in flat cellophane packaging with cardboard tops.

I turned back and looked along the aisles. It was a little bit dimmer farther back in the store. I could see T walking up toward me. She was smiling somewhat innocently. When she finally got up to me, I could see that her hair had gotten long and kind of messy.

Dream #3

I floated down from the ceiling of a basketball auditorium. I descended over a wide staircase, at the top of which was a wide entranceway. At the bottom of the staircase was the basketball court.

A group of people walked out from the entranceway as I descended the final slow feet to the stairs. The group was led by a white man. He didn't look real at all. He looked like a cartoon. He was amazingly wide, with unnaturally tanned skin, a plasticky wave of hair, and a frozen grin. He wore a sea-green polo shirt and khaki slacks.

Behind this white man were five black men, dressed up like the Harlem Globetrotters. They all looked like terribly exaggerated cartoons! One of them even looked like the bottom half of a bowling ball in red and white striped shorts -- with no top half for his body!

I told myself, This is unreal. I'm dreaming.

As soon as I realized I was dreaming, everything took on such a tactile clarity that I felt like I was awake. I said to myself, Oh. I guess I just woke up from my dream. No wonder I thought I was dreaming. I told myself, Well, hopefully next time I'll realize I'm dreaming while I'm actually dreaming.

The basketball players all ran out to the court. I ran out as well. It was like I was supposed to play against all of them. They all ran around me with the ball. I kept almost getting the ball from them. But they would pass it around and keep it away from me.

At one point, all five basketball players were in a line, tossing the ball back to the next person as I approached the person who had the ball. I was especially frustrated not being able to get the ball from the player who didn't even have a top half to his body!

The players were now all around me, near the hoop. The were surrounding me. I felt like if I didn't get the ball now, I would lose for sure! Suddenly, a white woman dressed up as Super Mario got the ball from one of the players. She bent over to look into my face (as if I were waist-high -- only a child?) and nodded at me, letting me know she was on my side.

The Super Mario girl soared up into the air. It looked like she was going to make a slam dunk! The hooped seemed to be 20 feet high. But the girl looked like she was going to make it. But as she approached the hoop, she just threw the ball straight at the net. The ball flew off and rolled away somewhere off the court.

The Super Mario girl landed. Some of my other teammates gathered around me. (I only came up to their waists, as if I were a child, although this didn't occur to me in the dream.) The Super Mario girl may now have been wearing spring-green overalls and a pink shirt with tiny, little flower designs on it, though she still had the Mario nose and mustache.

The teammates all explained to me that the Super Mario girl could have made the dunk. But that wasn't the point of this game. I looked at the ground. I didn't want to hear that. I thought, If she could have made the dunk she should have just made it. The basketball players had all frustrated me so much. Somebody should just have dunked on them!

Dream #4

I was in a basement of some really fancy hotel or house. The basement was like a nice, den-like room, with warm, orange walls. There were a lot of people here. We were all having some kind of multi-day party or retreat. We were all somewhat rich, and most of us had been friends for a while.

There were a few groups of us standing in a few different lines to get night-time desserts from a number of different small bars before heading to some late-evening recreation like playing an easy sport or watching a movie.

I was (or was seeing from the viewpoint of) a white man in his 50s or 60s. I was somewhat tall, strong, with tanned skin. I had grey-white hair, short, and well-combed. I had steel-blue eyes. I wore a blue shirt, possibly navy blue, and pale-khaki or white khaki shorts.

In front of me was a little boy. He was blonde, very pretty. He seemed to be wearing only a pale blue, long-sleeved, Gap shirt (which is what I wear as a shirt to go to bed) and nothing else. The shirt went down almost to the young boy's knees.

I and the boy still had a few more people to go before we would get served. The bar we were at looked like it had some kind of tropical theme: it had bamboo shoots for the bar front, and had a roof over it that looked liked thatched palm leaves.

I seemed to be hugging the boy from behind. The boy finally told me he didn't feel like he wanted to do this, and that he really didn't want to do the late night activity. I understood that the boy just wanted to go to bed.

I got out of line with the boy and began walking out of the room. As I did so, I said goodbye to a few people, explaining that I was heading out for the night, because the little boy figured it was time to go to bed.

I noticed how all the other older men were with older women, like they were with their wives. I couldn't figure out why I was with a little boy.

Dream #5

I walked into an apartment that was a maybe three or four floors up in its building. The apartment had brick walls, and it looked out over some kind of city scene, like in a slightly busy area of Brooklyn or Manhattan.

It was late afternoon. The light outside was dim blue. But inside the apartment it was warm and well-lit. The apartment felt cluttered, but nice and comfortable.

There were other people in the apartment, all friends. It was like we were having a party. Everybody was happy and cheerful. But I also had a sense that we were really here to strategize about something. It was like we were making plans to defend ourselves against some really bad thing that was about to happen or that had already begun happening and was in its early, relatively mild stages.

The apartment may have been a very large studio, so that the kitchen, the dining room, the living room, and the bedroom, were all really "one room," even though the place was large enough and the space was varied enough so that each diferent place felt like a "different room."

I walked over to the dining table, near the front windows. The kitchen was just to my right. I looked at a sheet of paper. It was in a different language. I began talking about what was written on the paper.

One of my friends, a young man all dressed up in fancy garb and a powdered wig, like the picture of Vivaldi in MoSh's avatar on this site, came up to me and asked me if I spoke the language on the sheet of paper.

"Oh, no," I replied. "I don't speak Latin. I don't speak any language other than English. I mean, I think people are fooled, because I learn songs in other languages, and I sing those songs pretty well. But that's mostly j-pop, and I definitely don't speak Japanese."

I felt stupid, having to admit that I didn't speak Latin, after I had spoken, apparently with a tone of authority, regarding the language on the sheet. I thought I had acted in a misleading way. So now I tried to make up for it by thinking of a song that I knew in Latin. But all I could think of was Leporello's aria from Mozart's Don Giovanni. And I knew that "wasn't quite" Latin.

I began to see the words of Leporello's aria handwritten in pencil on a sheet of paper, very watery and blurry.