• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




    View RSS Feed

    maboroshi

    1. neon starlet marriage; friend and porn

      by , 02-19-2012 at 04:20 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      Two female movie stars were getting married to each other. They were walking down some kind of red carpet, like they were going to or coming from an awards ceremony. The carpet ran down some kind of narrow hallway the right side of which had no wall, but was open to the golden sunlight of late afternoon.

      The two stars were both known for being gorgeous. One of them was a beautiful blonde with her hair up in a narrow wave. She wore a tiny, white dress with something shimmery on it, like sequins or mother of pearl. She smiled and giggled kind of like Scarlet Johanssen.

      But the other star was completely wrapped in a black cloth. The cloth was then bound with something like ropes or bungee cords, so that it was tight on the woman. The cloth looked like felt, and in a lot of places it was cut into wide fringes.

      The cords were all neon colors -- like neon orange, blue, and pink. In addition, the woman wore canvas-topped shoes of different neon colors: mostly neon blue, with bits of neon orange and neon pink.

      I wondered whether the woman's outfit had something to do with her religion. Maybe she was required, as a woman, to cover her whole body once she was married. I may have questioned this, since I figured any religion that had such a policy would probably not be okay with lesbian marriage.

      Dream #2

      I was outside in some city area, on cobbled streets and near a fountain. It was daytime. I was before some yellow-walled apartment building.

      I saw my old friend R. I may have been surprised to see him. But I may somehow have gotten the idea that he'd planned to meet up with me in this place. He knew I didn't want to see him anymore. And he'd somehow manipulated this situation, I felt, so that I'd have to see him.

      It turned out -- maybe I'd known this in advance -- that R lived in the apartment I'd stood in front of. R had me go upstairs with him. It was somehow like I was going to live with R for a little while, like I was trying to get back on my feet and he was letting me stay with him.

      We were now upstairs and in R's bedroom. R had pulled out a stack of pornographic magazines. I had the feeling that they were mine, as if I had lived here before, or as if I had lived here for a while now and had hidden these magazines somewhere here, like under the mattresses.

      R was starting to make me feel bad about having magazines like this in his house. I was feeling embarrassed and ashamed. But then R actually had me start looking at the magazines with him, as if he were already interested in them and was now trying to get me interested in them, too.
    2. house-sitting; non-consenting sex; snuff film bookstore

      by , 02-07-2012 at 02:47 PM
      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.
    3. my old place

      by , 12-28-2011 at 02:47 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      It was daytime. I was out on a street somewhere, probably in Brooklyn. There were a lot of people out on the street. I was apparently really focused in on something I was doing. But some person, maybe an older, kind of fat, white man, was talking to me.

      The man told me that there had been some huge thing having to do with guns just down the road. There may have been a small gunfight. But the really big deal about it was that there were a whole lot of people all gathered together, and they all either had or were making a lot of guns.

      The street the man was talking about was just down the block and around the left corner. It suddenly occurred to me that I needed to go down that block. The person who had been talking to me told me not to go down that block. But I didn't have a choice. I needed to go.

      I was now walking down the block. It was as bright and sunny there as on a summer day. To my left was some kind of tall, chain-link fence, like might be around a school. Beyond that, farther down the sidewalk, were some brownstone row-houses and some narrow, shortish apartment buildings.

      But to my right, the street, just down the way from me, was filled with cars. The cars looked like 1970s cars, more like Cadillac style than hot-rod style. They were all parked at odd angles, right in the middle of the street.

      There were people sitting and standing among the cars, as well as on the stoops of brownstones on the right side of the street. I think the people were mostly white, kind of overweight, with hair in a kind of buzz cut. They may have worn black t-shirts.

      I could see that all these people were either making guns or cleaning up their guns. I knew that whatever they were doing, it was horribly illegal, and that I was probably walking through the middle of a really bad situation.

      I just tried to act like I didn't see anything. A few guys on my side of the street were helping out the gun guys somehow. They seemed to be suspicious of me, wondering why I was walking around here. But my nonchalant attitude made them less worried about me.

      I had realized -- at some point -- that I was here because I used to live here. I'd moved to a different place a long time ago. But for some reason, some of my mail was still being delivered here. I had to come back here and pick up some of my mis-delivered mail.

      I walked up to one of the narrow, short apartment buildings. The door of the building was glass with bars behind it that looked like chrome bars, which just glared in the summer-bright light. This was where I used to live.

      There was a circus-peanut orange colored card in the door, somehow, as if the card were sticking out of the bars -- even though the bars were *behind* the glass of the door!

      I pulled the card out and looked at it. It was some kind of postal service request card, stating that all mail should be delivered to my new address. The address was the exact address of where I live nowadays IWL, except, perhaps, without the apartment number.

      I still needed to get my old mail. So I walked into the apartment. Inside, the place looked like the interior of a nice brownstone row-house. There was a nice first floor hallway area, which, it seemed to me, led to a spacious living area, probably where my old landlady would have lived.

      There was a staircase along the right wall. I walked up the staircase. The staircase ended with a doorway that opened into a hallway. Along the right wall of the hallway were rooms. People would rent the rooms and then share the bathroom and kitchen on this floor.

      My old room had been the room closest to the doorway at the top of the staircase. The door to the room was wide open. The room was empty. It was like nobody had moved in there since I'd left. I think I was now questioning whether I hadn't left this place only very recently, and not a long time ago, like I'd thought before.

      I went into the room. There was a bed that took up most of the room. On the left side there was a weird niche in the wall, like a closet. But the shelf in the closet was low: waist-high, so that it almost looked like it could be used as a writing desk.

      The place was all dusty. Some of the dust in the corners and on the surfaces of things was so old and caked up that it was starting to get gummy.

      Something about the fact that this place felt so abandoned, so quiet and empty, made me feel like I should move back here. I was starting to feel like I couldn't live in my new place anymore, anyway. So maybe I would see about moving back here.

      I walked back down to the front door of the apartment. But as I was leaving, my old landlady was walking up to the front door. I had been hoping that I could get into and out of the house without her ever knowing I was here. I'd felt like if she saw me, she'd harrass me about something.

      I opened the door for my landlady. I greeted her. I walked outside. But instead of going out into the neighborhood I'd just been in, I walked into a big front patio of a house, which had been converted into a sun-room. It had grass-green, plasticky-feeling carpeting. Beyond the sun-room, the neighborhood also looked much nicer.

      My old landlady looked about the same, except that she was a bit heavier nowadays. She wore a white, long-sleeved shirt. She told me that I still owed her my last week's rent. She'd thought that maybe that was why I was here.

      I told my old landlady that I didn't owe her the money. I'd paid her everything when I'd left. I saw an image of my hands with a handful of bills. I was visually counting out everything I'd paid my old landlady before I'd left. I was even starting to think that I'd paid my landlady too much, and that she owed me some money.

      But I knew it would be tough enough just to convince my landlady that I didn't owe her any money. I was trying to get my thoughts clear enough so that I could make the right argument. I didn't know if I could do it. It kept feeling like I was losing my train of thought.

      As I was trying to pull my arguments together, my old landlady walked back toward the front door of this sun-room patio. My old landlady was talking to me about something, like she was still annoyed with me, but was trying to be friendly.

      My old landlady spread out her arms, like she was taking in the sun. I noticed that the sides of my landlady's white, long sleeves had black designs on them.

      The designs were very much like the flame-like emblems of the "tribal" genre of tattoos. But they also had a kind of "vintage," Ed Hardy kind of look. For some reason, seeing these tattoo-like designs on my old landlady's shirt made me wonder if my old landlady actually had tattoos.
    4. housing mall hallucination

      by , 11-21-2011 at 02:39 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      It was night. I was riding in a car with a group of people. I sat in the backseat, on the passenger side. We were driving through a neighborhood full of buildings that looked kind of like houses, but were more like apartments. They were thin and tall, with three or four floors. Each floor was like its own apartment.

      We drove past blocks and blocks of these houses. We were also driving really fast, passing all the houses at an incredible rate. We went up and down hills. Some of the hills we passed over seemed to have these house-like apartments set into them.

      As we passed the side of one of these buildings, a woman, either in my head or in the car, told some weird story about how she'd accidentally dialed 911 on her phone and then left the phone alone. The girl was some kind of hot girl, and she lived with a couple other hot girls.

      Apparently all the girls thought they were going to get in trouble. But they also thought the whole thing had been some kind of prank that another girl had played on them.

      We now blasted through a neighborhood full of these houses. But as we did, we seemed to lift up onto a ramp. It lifted us over what looked like two or three different levels of these blocks of tall, thin house-apartments.

      As we drove along, the levels of housing blocks began to appear more like floors in a gigantic shopping mall. It was like we were driving along a balcony walkway in the mall, one that took us across the center of the open space made by the balconies projecting out from the walls.

      I saw all of this as if I were positioned backward in the car. But soon it was like I was in the front of the front seat, looking back beyond the people in the front and back seats. Then it was like the car we'd been in was gone. The people who'd been in the car were probably also gone now.

      I could see all the way down to the first floor of the mall. I saw that the mall's floorplan was built with a circle at its center. From this circle, the mall branched off into four separate shopping areas. They must have been corridors full of stores. But all I could see was that the areas each began with one huge store.

      The back section, which was, apparently, where we'd come from, was green. The sections to the left and right were blue and yellow -- maybe yellow on my right and blue on my left. I'm not sure. And I don't know what the color of the front section was.

      I was now up on some high floor in the mall, probably standing out at the top of the escalators and in front of a map and information sign.

      A man or woman stood with me. He or she was tall with grey hair. He or she seemed kind of intelligent, probably liberal.

      The person asked me something like would I like him or her to take me around the mall. I said no. I didn't have much time to spend in the mall, anyway, and I already had a plan for how I was going to do it.

      I said that I had come from the green area. I knew that each section of the mall was humongous, enough for one day's worth of exploration. I said I was going to head back to the green area and spend a little time there. Then I'd look for the exit and, apparently, find the car I'd driven here in the parking lot.

      The person may possibly have said that was fine. The person was now gone.

      I turned around and walked toward the front area. I walked into some big, dim room. The room was empty, and it was barely lit with an almost amber-colored light. It was shaped kind of like a wide, shallow seashell. The walls were a dark, polished, black material.

      There were quite a few people in the room. But we were all quiet and calm. An Asian woman's voice came on over some speakers. The woman began informing us that everything was about to begin.

      Apparently we all, even I, knew what to do. We walked to the edge of the room, where the carpet stepped up toward the wall, forming something like a kneeling area, like for communion at church. We all knelt down.

      The woman told us something about breathing in a substance which would cause hallucinations. The hallucinations weren't caused, the woman said, by the chemical. Rather, the chemicals we'd breathe in would trigger the chemical "mercaptan" (???) in our brains. This would create hallucinations.

      As we breathed in the substance we would have to think of some famous person we wanted to see. We would hallucinate that person, but the person would also do something like materialize, be real.

      We all now put plastic bags over our mouths and, probably, noses. The bags were weaker than grocery bags. But they were all about half-inflated with something. Even when the air inside the bag was breathed in, the bag remained half-inflated. I tried to figure out how it worked. But I couldn't.

      I breathed the air in. I could smell a trace of something, which I assumed was the drug. The famous person I wanted to see was the 17th century English poet Abraham Cowley. So I focused on him.

      At some point the back wall had disappeared, revealing another room like the room I was in. The room was completely empty.

      But I wasn't having any hallucinations about Abraham Cowley. I figured this whole thing probably didn't work after all, anyway. I pulled the bag down from my face.

      I know got a bit of a heavy bump from someone on my right side. I looked over -- it was now like I was sitting on a stool at a bar. All the people were sitting at the bar. And the wall seemed to be back.

      The person to my right was standing. It was the person who had been standing with me near the information map. I now knew that this person was a man. But he was now done up completely like a woman. The reason he'd left before was so he could get all done up.

      He didn't look bad. He was probably in his fifties, and he dressed like a liberal woman in her fifties. He wore jeans and a black, ribbed, turtleneck sweater. He had his short, grey hair done in a feminine fashion. He wore a lot of foundation makeup, which I thought was weird. But he didn't look bad.

      Still, I was kind of embarrassed that the guy had come to hang out with me. I wondered if, wherever we went in the mall, the people around us would think I was going out on a date with this guy. I didn't want anybody to think that.

      (Shallow...)

      The person spoke about something in a relaxed but kind of loud voice. As the person spoke I felt a bit more relaxed. It seemed like if we just spoke about things that didn't have to do with sexuality, I wouldn't have to worry about what people would think of me for walking around with the person.
    5. murder camp; animals on path; moving storage; time machine boy

      by , 10-27-2011 at 03:06 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      A view of some area almost like a tarmac, though with no visible airport. A building more like an apartment complex stood off in the distance and to the left. Some structure like the shelter for a train stop was in the foregroung.

      On the concrete ground lay four or five people, living or dead, face down. They all seemed to be adult men. They weren't wearing any shirts, and their pants looked like pajama pants. The men were all really skinny and pale.

      A military man, a white man in a green, official-looking uniform and a round, hard helmet, stood at the right end of the row of bodies. Two soldiers stood on the left end. The two soldiers may have been holding up another one of these emaciated men. The man probably wasn't old, but his face looked old.

      The soldiers let the man go. The leading military man told the man that if he complied, he'd be let go, so that he shouldn't be afraid, and he should just lie down by the rest of the men.

      As the man did this, the leading military man may have shot him in the stomach.

      A narrator's voice came on saying that during the years of (World War Two?) this was the way of life for many male college students in America. They would be taken to these camps and put through all kinds of torture. They'd be promised freedom, but it would only lead to more torture.

      There were now scene of military people driving around on this tarmac-like area in civilian 1970s-style cars. The military people would drive over camp inmates who had been laid down on the road. The inmate's emaciated bodies would generally split right open.

      One scene showed how at least the top half of an inmate got caught in the back right wheel-well of one car, or actually got stuck to the wheel itself, so that it was just thudding along with the car.

      The narrator's voice said that these camps had all been part of a CIA mind control experiment. Part of the experiment had been to see how much the prisoners could take. But the main part was to see how far they could brainwash the soldiers to do any cruel, or even absurd, thing.

      Another scene showed soldiers in some green-walled area that looked partly like an airplane hangar or garage and partly like a 1950s-style diner. A leading military man stood off to the right. A row of prisoners lay on the ground. And two soldiers stood over the prisoners.

      Again, the prisoners may have been dead, but I could't tell. The two soldiers were pacing back and forth, pointing vanilla ice cream cones at the prisoners' backs.

      The soldiers were acting like they had convinced the prisoners that they were only going to threaten them with the ice cream cones as long as they played along. But they really were going to shoot them. Or the soldiers may possibly have thought they really had guns, while they only had ice cream cones.

      Dream #2

      I was out with somebody else in a grassy clearing in the wilderness. We were doing something like consulting somebody about getting the person's car fixed. It seemed like this was going to take a while, so I decided to go for a walk.

      I walked down a small slope on a dirt path. The path was well maintained and smooth. The soil was a pleasant shade of brown. On either side of me was tall, deeply green grass with some glimmers of orange or tan grass. To my left the land sloped down a bit. To my right, it sloped up a bit. It was late afternoon, and the sky was silvery-blue, getting dim.

      For some reason I looked behind me, as if I'd expected to see something. I did. A deer seemed to be peeking its head out from the tall grass. Either I'd startled it or it wanted to cross the path but was waiting until I was no longer looking at it. The deer's head was huge -- like the deer was twice as big as a normal deer.

      Either this deer or another deer now walked out onto the path and slightly up the slope. This deer was normal sized. But her coat had traces of green and orange in it, as if to help her blend in with the grass. And she had a huge cone coming out of the back of her head. The cone looked like the rest of the deer's body, but it was as big as a giraffe's neck!

      I turned around and continued walking along the path. The slope up to my right was pretty gentle, and I could just see over it. It appeared that there was a road just past the slope. On the other side of the road a group of animals stood just at the edge of a dense stand of trees.

      These animals looked at first like deer to me. But they were a bit too big-bodied. I then assumed they must be elk. But their coats were largely white, with cloudings and splotches of red-brown fur.

      The slope seemed much steeper now, so that it was much harder for me to see the "elk." It seemed like the elk wanted to cross the street, but that they were afraid to cross while I was around.

      I called to the elk in a high, kind of motherly voice, hoping that would make them less afraid. But I then felt that if they felt threatened by my heightened activity, they'd stampede.

      I felt like they might stampede anyway, so I was trying to get past this area quickly. But I didn't know how wide this herd was -- herds of elk could be huge, I thought. It was also getting harder for me to walk.

      For a moment I thought I would get off the path altogether, go up the slope so I could see how many elk I was dealing with. But the path had become a trench, kind of difficult to get out of. I worried that the elk would stampede and trap me in the trench, trampling me to death.

      I thought I had to get out of this trench right away. But now the trench had gotten even deeper, maybe 4 meters deep, with flat-vertical walls. There was no way I could get out. But I thought the narrowness of the trench might now save me: the elk might just jump over.

      Dream #3

      I was walking through some kind of gigantic warehouse. The warehouse had tons of rooms. The rooms were all huge, like aisles ina big box warehouse, like a Sam's Club. There were shelves, all filled with both boxes and clear, plastic containers. The boxes and containers were all about a meter long and half a meter wide and deep.

      I knew that every resident in an apartment complex was being moved out. They were all probably being moved to another specific apartment complex. Each resident (i.e. every person in each household) had been given one cardboard box and one clear plastic container. Everything each individual wanted to take had to fit into his two containers.

      For some reason I imagined a litte, Mexican girl and her brother running happily around their house, figuring out what stuff they wanted to take with them.

      All the families were now packed up. The boxes were all in the storage area. And at some point all this stuff would be moved to the new apartment complex.

      I walked around a bit, looking in through the sides of the clear, plastic containers. I didn't see anything of interest. The boxes and plastic containers had all been set really haphazardly on the shelves. Some of them weren't even set right side up.

      Dream #4

      A young, blonde boy with slightly tanned skin was in some place like a warehouse or factory. The boy had kind of warped himself here. He had discovered a time machine, which wasn't exactly a time machine, but something more like a dimensional warp machine.

      The boy had warped himself into a dimension like earth, concurrent with a different time on earth, but with some different physical laws. But the boy was using the physical laws here to help change things for the better in his own dimension.

      But the boy was slightly worried. It seemed like some of the stuff he was doing here to benefit his own dimension was actually hurting this dimension. But, then, he didn't seem to care. He took a kind of troublemaker attitude and revelled in messing things up.

      The boy ran around the factory. There were rows of boxes, huge pipes, vats, and other mechanisms. There were also some kind of mechanical pits that the boy would occasionally jump into and out of.

      The only effect I could see the boy having on this place was that whenever he acted with "too much energy," he left bright green and bright pink tracers or shadows or silhouettes of himself in the area. Sometimes these tracers were slimy. But these tracers had the effect of tearing through reality. This could destroy both this and the boy's dimensions.

      There was then another scene, unrelated to the boy. I don't remember anything about it.

      The scene then returned to the factory the boy had been in. The boy was no longer there. He may now have been a man. But the man had gone back to his own dimension. A woman remarked that the man could, however, accidentally be brought back to this dimension, which would be dangerous for him.

      The woman, some kind of Xena-like Amazon Queen, now stood in a blue, temple-like room with a man who sort of looked like an evil wizard. The two stood before a wall that had sloping-up shapes in them, like the upward sloping of a huge organ. In the center of this was a round, dark doorway. This was a "time machine."

      The woman and the man spoke about how it was good that the humans had decided no longer to use the time machine. As they spoke, the view of them became a view from a television screen.

      My view was in a dark living room. It seemed to be backing and backing away from the screen, until it was finally in my body again. I was sitting on the floor, with my back against a couch. The couch may have had a plushy, pale beige fabric. But it may have been covered over with a white sheet.

      I was now sitting up on the couch. My old friends R and L were laying together on the top edge of the couch, leaning against the wall against which the couch was set.

      L (a woman) commented that she thought it was good that the humans and the people from the other dimension were learning how to cooperate using the time machine technology.

      R (a man) said, "No way! If I were the people from the other dimension, I'd act like a Mock (or Lock), like in the book The Time Machine! I'd just act like a beast to that time machine, and bam! bam! break it up!"

      As R said "bam! bam!" he slammed his arm down twice on my face. He slammed my nose really hard, leaving it hurt and stinging.

      I was about to yell, "What the hell are you doing?" But I calmed down immediately. I knew if I yelled, R would just act like he didn't know why I was so mad.

      I turned around to R, who was wrapped up to his face in a white sheet with L. I got right in his face and very calmly said, "I know you meant to do that. You meant to hit me in the face. You meant to be an asshole."

      R very calmly looked at me. He said, "You're right. I did mean to do it to you. And you know what? From this day on, I'm just going to be a terrible person to you."

      I said, "Oh. Okay." I knew I was living here with R and L. So I figured I'd have to get out of here as soon as possible, hopefully even by the coming day.

      I started working through my thoughts, while still looking at R, trying to figure out how I could get rid of everything I didn't need, and how to move everything I needed as efficiently as possible.

      I couldn't believe how young R looked, as young as he looked when I first met him, sixteen years ago!
    6. mirror, people at door, outside with psychiatrist

      by , 08-20-2011 at 02:16 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in "my apartment," in my bathroom, looking at my face in the mirror. The bathroom was dark, with light coming in only from another room. I was disappointed with my appearance. I felt like I looked really ugly.

      There was suddenly a knock on my front door. I didn't know anybody who'd be knocking on my door at this time, so I was afraid to open the door. I went to look through the peephole to see who was there -- I was even afraid to do that.

      The person at the door was a tall, muscular black man wearing a black tank top, khaki shorts, and a baseball cap tilted off to the side of his head. He was bouncing around a lot. He looked annoyed or angry. I didn't open the door or acknowledge the man. I just walked away from the door and back to the bathroom.

      There was another knock at the door. This time I stood frozen in the doorway of my bathroom, afraid to even go to the door. I looked from the bathroom to the door.

      My apartment was really big. It was like the bathroom was at the front of a short hallway. Between the hallway and the front door was a living room. But the living room was more like two huge rooms. Both the rooms were plainly visible, but dark. In the center was a kind of columned space that was lit with incandescent light. There was nice, kind of old-style furniture everywhere.

      I somehow saw through the door, which now had a window of greenish and pinkish stained glass in a diamond-grid pattern on it. At the door were two old, white men, kind of overweight, with white hair. It was now like part of the stained glass on my door had been broken. The men could see into my house. But I didn't know if they could see me.

      There was a really nice, big, comfortable armchair near the hallway. A very pretty, blonde, little girl in a really nice, fancy dress, sat in the chair. She made some kind of remark about the people at the door. The remark was made with a cheerful tone, but it was kind of dark. It made me feel like the two white men at my door were probably here only to cause trouble for me, but that I should probably open the door to them anyway.

      I was about to go open the door for the men. But they now saw me through the smashed-out pieces in the stained glass on my door. The men said something about how they had only been here to help me. They were probably going to install some kind of device in my house. But if I didn't want to open the door for them, they weren't going to waste their time.

      The two men left my door. I ran after them, hoping to get them so they could do whatever good thing they were going to do for me. I must have gotten down to the ground floor of my apartment building. In an area that may have been a little small and cramped, possibly busy with some kind of housework, I met a woman, another resident.

      The woman said, "Oh, those guys are all holding a big meeting for all of us downstairs later on. They gave everybody that speech. They figured it was a good way to make everybody feel guilty. So that way everybody would want the thing the men want to put in the house. So now, to find out what it is, we all have to go to this meeting."

      I was now outside, in a neighborhood that looked a lot like my neighborhood in waking life. It was late afternoon or early morning. The sky was deep, vivid blue, but there were also bright, red-pink clouds in the sky. I remarked to myself that I'd never seen clouds with such a strong, red tint.

      Somehow my psychiatrist met me a couple of blocks down from my apartment. I was walking back to my apartment. So my psychiatrist walked with me. We passed a small family that was taking up the entire sidewalk. We had to maneuver past them. I squeezed along a chain-link fence along the sidewalk.

      One of the kids of the family may have been on a tricycle. Another of the kids was a little, Latina girl with dark skin and long, black hair. She was maybe ten or eleven years old. She wore a bikini with a black and white design of tighly interlocking patterns, like Native American pottery paintings. She also may have had red scrunchees holding her hair back in either a ponytail or two pigtails.

      I had been very interested in the Native American design on the girl's bikini. I had never seen that before. But the girl had been kind of crouched down near the bicycle. And when she stood up, something about the sight of her rear end as it went from a crouching to a standing position really turned me on. So I looked away, ashamed of being turned on by a little girl, especially in front of my psychiatrist.

      We crossed the street. I was looking down to the sidewalk and up to the strikingly red-pink clouds as my psychiatrist spoke with me. My psychiatrist told me that she had some meeting set up with me and another psychiatrist, possibly a man. She told me that soon I'd be able to go to "special sessions" with this second psychiatrist.

      My psychiatrist told me that she'd tell me more once we got inside. Apparently my apartment complex actually held her counseling office instead of my apartment.

      I asked my psychiatrist if I would still be doing regular sessions with her, since the sessions with the guy would only be "special sessions." I mentioned some previous psychiatrist I'd had before, without being able to remember her name, as if I had seen her for "special sessions" while still seeing my psychiatrist for "regular sessions." But my psychiatrist didn't answer me.

      My dream now took on a very scratchy, rushing feeling, like I'd usually have when I was going into or coming out of a lucid dream. I think this may have been partly because I had gotten really frustrated trying to remember the name of my previous psychiatrist.
    7. mercedes and friends; apartment; author and pop singer; phone call in cafe; shower and diapers

      by , 08-04-2011 at 01:07 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was out walking on a sidewalk in a residential area. The road I was on went down a steep slope and up another steep slope, making a kind of U- or V-shape. I was near the bottom, heading up the "left" side of the U. The houses on the street were all nice, and the curbs seemed to be pretty well lined with tall, leafy trees. There were a lot of cars parked out along the curbs. There also seemed to be a decent amount of car traffic.

      I may have stopped as I was going up the slope. I may have turned around. I may have felt some kind of despair, as if I didn't know where to go.

      Suddenly a greyish Mercedes-like car passed me going down the slope. I suddenly had a note on a piece of paper in my hand. It said something like, "MY and LJ are coming for you. You are going to live with us now." (MY and LJ are two people I talk with on another website.)

      I knew that the Mercedes had come from MY and LJ. I continued walking down the slope, hoping to get a glimpse of the car again. I heard a voice call my name from across the street. I looked over to see the grey Mercedes now parked. A few people were standing outside the car.

      The person who had called my name waved at me. I recognized her as L, MY's mom. She was kind of tall, a tiny bit overweight, and had kind of pale skin and long, black hair. She wore a kind of loose-fitting tank top of a crepe-like material, colored with vivid blue, green, red, and possibly purple and white blotches against a black background. She also may have worn white pants.

      I crossed the street to L. I knew that if I was going to live with MY, that L would be my mom, too. There was probably another woman, who I probably thought of as LJ's mom. LJ might have been there, too, possibly as an adult man or woman. There was also a tall, thin man with tough, tan skin, a big, grey beard, and kind of balding head of long, grey, wiry hair. The man wore a dirty, grey tank top and light grey slacks.

      I was wondering when I would finally get to meet MY. L lifted up a car seat, which was just sitting by the car on the road. In the seat was an infant girl, dressed in a white onesie with pink trim and a pink bib. I held the car seat, with the baby inside it. I didn't know who this baby was. I knew there was another baby nearby, wearing the same outfit, except blue.

      The car seat seemed to be sinking down in my arms, toward the ground, as if I were losing my ability to hold it. L may have also said she thought it was time for me to put down the baby, or I may have thought it would be a good time for me to put down the baby.

      But just as I was sitting the baby down, she began sucking at one of my nipples, through my shirt. She wasn't trying to nurse from me (I don't know what she would have gotten out of a guy's nipple). She was doing something more like telling me she wanted me to keep holding her.

      Dream #2

      I was in "my apartment." I walked out of the apartment, into the hallway. There was a tall, young, white man in the hallway. He may have walked into my apartment. I don't know if he walked back out. I went back into my apartment, into the kitchen, which was just off from the front door.

      Dream #3

      I was in a cafe that kind of looked like a bar. It was big, as big as a restaurant, and it was made with lots of dark wood. I sat in a small, two-person booth at the front of the restaurant, right across an aisle from the front end of the service counter. In front of me, beyond my booth, was a big set of shelves stacked with free newspapers. Just beyond that was a huge front window-wall, as big as one that might be seen at the front of a grocery store.

      The place may have felt and sounded busy. At one point, a customer seemed to be arguing with or yelling at the guy behind the service counter.

      An Asian woman, maybe in her late 30s or early 40s sat down across from me at my booth, without asking, and even kind of forcibly and abruptly. I was a little offended, but I just decided to act like she hadn't done anything unusual.

      I looked at her face and realized she was a famous author. (I may have thought of her as the famous -- male -- physicist Michio Kaku.) I was kind of surprised that someone so famous would want to sit with anybody. I figured she'd be so hounded by fans that she'd treasure any moment she could get alone.

      The woman had slammed her coffee down at sat down. But now she jostled up, kind of impatiently, out of her seat. She grabbed some sugar from a stand near the newspaper shelves and came back. She irritably stirred her sugar, slopping her coffee out of the cup. It suddenly seemed like there was a mess of coffee stirrers, sugar wrappers, napkins, sugar, and coffee everywhere.

      For a moment, things seemed to be silent. I thought perhaps I should talk to the author. Maybe she'd sat with me because she'd wanted to talk with me. And I apparently was a fan of her work. So I thought I'd have something to ask her. But I was afraid to talk to her, thinking she would just think of me as another big fan.

      Now another customer was yelling at a guy, probably a different guy, behind the service counter. This time it definitely sounded like the customer was upset because the food he had ordered was in such bad condition that the man couldn't have it. All of this kind of food had been wrecked for the day. The customer was really upset. He left.

      For some reason this all sounded really interesting to me. I stood up to ask the worker what was going on. The author, thinking she should follow my "good actions," as if I had been acting out of concern, quickly stood up and came with me to the counter.

      I asked the worker what had happened. The worker was tall, white, kind of skinny, with shaggy, brown hair and pale eyes. He wore a dark baseball cap and probably a dark polo shirt with thin, green stripes.

      The worker just responded, "Well, he just got annoyed. You know how ----- (another worker) always has that saying of his? 'If you gotcha, then mmm... gotcha!'"

      I now saw a torn piece of notebook paper with this saying written sloppily on it in black ink. The quote was upside down to my view. I understood that the worker had repeated this quote often enough that he was really starting to tick all the customers off.

      I now went up into some upstairs area in the cafe. I opened a door and found myself at the back of a performance space. It was just a kind of long, narrow featureless room. It was all dark, except at the front area, which served as a stage, and was lit with normal, incandescent stage lights. The audience didnt't seem to have any chairs. There were a lot of people, but they all seemed to be sitting on things like big cushions or wooden cubes.

      The performers were a small rock band, led by a female singer. The song began. It was very distinctive. It had a really nice, sad sound and some interesting harmonies. The song made me look closer at the woman. She was kind of short and thin. She wore a bright turquoise sundress. She had lightly copper-tan skin and blonde-brown hair in a semi-beehive. She wore big, wide, wrap-around sunglasses.

      I thought I'd recognized this singer. So I walked up toward the front of the audience, to a group of my friends. They were all young, Indian or southeast Asian guys and girls, with darkish skin. They were dressed in jeans and t-shirts. I asked them, "Isn't that Atilia?" (Atilia Haron, a Malaysian pop singer I like.)

      One guy said, "No. This girl sings this song. It's called Pelita. It's for this movie. There's a flyer up front." (Pelita is a song by another Malaysian group called A.P.I.)

      The concert seemed to be over. My friends and other people in the audience were leaving. I walked up to the front, kind of in a hurried, crouching fashion, as if the concert were still going on and I didn't want to get in people's view, as well as wanting to get back to my friends quickly.

      There was a painted bench up front. There were two stacks of flyers on it. Both flyers were the size of regular pieces of paper. One flyer had a background like a deep blue, starry sky. The flyer was advertising something about the cosmos. The word "Cosmos" may have been in the title. The event was either a lecture or a film.

      The second flyer advertised the band. It was white, with some kind of yellow framing fading in and out of the background. There was a kind of art-nouveau design of a bird like a phoenix, done in heavy, black lines, with bright colors in the spaces between the black lines.

      The woman's name was at the top of the page. The first name was something like Nfemini or Nefmini. The second name was something like Salmani or Salyami. I got the impression that the woman was either Egyptian or Israeli.

      Dream #4

      I was in a cafe. I was sitting in a front area. But then I got a phone call. So I decided to walk to a back area to talk.

      The back area seemed to be behind a partition like a backless bookshelf full of books. The back area was dark, lit as if from a single incandescent bulb on the floor somewhere. There were some tables in the room and a leather bench with tables along the right wall. There were a lot of people around.

      I sat in the bench. I sat right next to some bookbag or backpack without thinking of it. I started talking with the person who'd called me. But just as I was starting to talk, a young man walked toward me. I realized that the backpack was the man's. I had inadvertently sat in his seat.

      So I got up and sat at one of the tables in the room, continuing to talk with the person on my phone. I had the thought that it had been good, after all, that I'd moved to one of the tables. A phone conversation at the bench would distract too many people, including the young man.

      Dream #5

      I woke up in "my bedroom." I was on a tall bed, under a whole bunch of blankets. The room seemed to be nice but small and really cluttered. A lamp was on on a small dresser near the head of my bed. It made a bright, kind of yellowy light.

      I rolled out of bed and walked through the cluttered room. To the left of the door was a random box, on top of which was a huge, plastic package of diapers. Diapers may have been spilling out of the container. There may actually have been diapers scattered all over the room.

      I don't think I was "myself." I seemed to be a tall, kind of thin, but muscular, white man, kind of easygoing, walking and thinking with a bit of a swagger that I definitely don't have in waking life.

      I went into the bathroom. I got out of the shower (apparently I had taken a shower). I was drying off. I realized I needed to go to the bathroom. I thought, for some reason, that maybe I should just put on a diaper and pee in that, instead. That thought really turned me on, for some reason. But I didn't really think it was a good idea to just go walking around in a diaper.

      Suddenly I was either putting a diaper on or taking it off. It seemed completely shredded, for some reason, and there seemed to be all kind of layers to the diaper. One layer seemed like thin, clear plastic-wrap. Another layer was a kind of porous material, like the tops of tennis shoes.
    8. shot cop and amputee; delivery DVDs

      by , 08-02-2011 at 12:37 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      Two criminals had escaped from prison. There was a view of only their legs as they got into the back of a silver-grey car.

      One of the criminals, the leader of the two, seemed to be an amputee. His hands and feet, and possibly even most of his legs, had been cut off. They were bandaged up with clean bandages. The man may also have been really short. He also wore a nice, grey suit. The other criminal was tall and muscular. He may have been dressed in leather pants and a tank top. He may have had long hair and a beard.

      Now two cops were chasing after the escaped criminals. They had followed the criminals to some abandoned building. The criminals had gone past some chain-link fence and up a stairwell. All around the stairwell was dark. The stairwell was lit with some kind of intense, orange-yellow light.

      The cops were now trying to push past the chain-link fence. But they were also proceeding cautiously. They weren't sure whether the criminals were waiting up on the steps to shoot down at the cops.

      One of the two cops got past the chain-link fence. The cop was Latino, a bit heavy-set, though not really overweight. He wore a white tank top and black glasses. His hair was combed back in a wavy style. He may have had a goatee. The cop had his gun drawn. Instead of walking up the steps, he walked under them.

      The second criminal was now seen hiding in the shadows. It was like I was seeing from the shadows, too, at a distance from both the cop and the criminal. The criminal drew his gun, pulled it high in the air, then slowly leveled it at the cop. The criminal was about to shoot, but the cop saw him and shot first.

      The cop shot the second criminal a few times. But he was then surprised when another gun shot him in the chest, on his far right side. The cop got shot a number of times. He reeled back against the chain-link fence, which now had a wide hole in it.

      As the first cop tumbled backward out of the stairwell, the second cop charged in. The second cop looked a lot more clean-cut than the first cop. He wore a dark suit, maybe dark blue. He had coppery skin, short hair, pale eyes, and a square jaw. Right away he tackled the person who had shot the first cop.

      Behind the fence, the first cop stood, bleeding from his wounds. One or more officers may now have appeared behind the fence to assist the bleeding cop. It seemed like the cop had been mortally wounded. But he kept calling out, in a panicked way, "I'm not gonna die! I'm not gonna die!"

      The second cop had the first criminal wrestled to the ground. Apparently the first criminal had shot the first cop (how? He didn't have any arms!). The second cop was slamming the first criminal against the ground and even, somehow, had his gun drawn on the criminal. The cop was yelling and the criminal something like, "You killed my friend! Now I'm gonna make you pay! I'm gonna kill you!"

      The criminal, who was bald and had a kind of thin, sharp, tan face laughed and said, "No you aren't! Every cop tells me they're gonna do that. But nobody ever can. I never get really punished!"

      The criminal, now captured, was in some room like a medical laboratory. He was being held down in some weird position, probably against a bed, by somebody like the chief of police. He was surrounded by medical people and police officers, all of whom seemed to be jostling the criminal, as if to make him feel bad about what he'd done. But the criminal just kept laughing.

      Finally a doctor grabbed the criminal's head. He sliced his scalp open from front to back, along the center. He did it in such a way as to hurt the criminal, but the criminal just kept laughing, as if he didn't even care. The criminal's scalp was now pulle away from his skin. The doctor now sawed into the criminal's skull, splitting it in the same way as he had cut the scalp. But the criminal was still laughing.

      The doctor then hacked open the criminal's brain, right along the center. The brain looked dry, bloodless, like just some solid, white, kind of fatty mass. The doctor reached either his hands or some tweezers down toward the base of the split section of the brain.
      From the right side, very near the cleft, the doctor pulled up a yellowy, plasticky-looking section of brain, almost rectangular, about 2cm tall and .75cm wide. The doctor, and maybe other people, seemed to think that this was just "yet another" piece of brain that they'd had to pull out of this criminal's head.

      Dream #2

      I was sitting in a small apartment. I may have been sitting on a couch, but I may also have been sitting on a coffee table. It was daytime, and the room was lit with greyish-green light coming in through the curtained windows. The room seemed to be full of boxes.

      I had ordered something, and I had been waiting for it for just a little bit longer than I'd wanted to wait. But just as I was thinking of calling the store I'd ordered from and asking about my delivery, a delivery man rushed into my house. He kind of scared me. I did't expect anybody to just rush into my place.

      The man was tall and white, kind of strong-looking, very pale, with pale, blue eyes. He seemed to have a shaved head, but he wore a baseball cap, maybe red. He wore dark clothes, almost like an Adidas track suit. He carried a white plastic bag in his hands. It held my stuff for delivery. It looked like the stuff inside was white styrofoam, like for take-out meals.

      I now had the bag. I looked inside. I'd apparently ordered two or three Asian DVDs of some sort. One may have had a cartoon panda on the front. There was some other merchandise in the bag that I don't remember.

      The man told me, "The movies are due back in two days. For the rest, you'll be charged..."

      The man continued talking. But I didn't quite hear him. I'd been surprised. The DVDs were due back? I thought I'd bought them. But now it made sense to me. I'd rented the DVDs, or checked them out, like from a library.

      The man seemed to be a little eager to leave. As he had been talking, he had slowly come to recognize how full of boxes my place was. Something about this seemed to freak him out. He no longer wanted to be here. He finished up his speech really fast, but almost automatically, as if he didn't want to betray how freaked out he was.

      I had gathered from what the man had said that I owed the company something like $22. I pulled out my wallet. I had something like $21. I told the man I could give him $21 now and pay the company the rest when I returned the movies. I knew this was more than I had to pay right now, since I didn't have to pay for any of the movies until I returned them. So, somehow, that meant I only had to pay $20 right now.

      But, even as I'd offered the man the money, he was already back out the door and into the hallway. He called back to me, as I walked up to the door, "No, don't worry about it. You'll just be charged for it all on credit."

      I thought that was both convenient and a little bit of a pain. I didn't really want to have stuff charged to my card.

      There was another white kid in the hallway. He wore a thick, yellow sweater with a black logo on it and big, baggy, green pants. He had black hair which swept down over his eyes. The boy had seen how freaked out the first man had been by my place. So he now looked inside. He seemed to be interested in something.

      I was a little freaked out by the kid's gaze, so I turned around and walked back into my place, trying to look, to the kid, like I hadn't seen him looking into my apartment. I looked at all my boxes. I wondered if the kid had thought there was something here he'd like to steal.

      I walked farther back into my apartment, into my bedroom. This room was full of boxes, too. I thought, No wonder people get weirded out by my place. It's full of boxes. It looks like I've never moved in. But I never feel comfortable anywhere. If I could finally feel comfortable somewhere, I'd unpack my boxes. Then it would look like I actually live here.
    9. joyce carol oates in italy

      by , 06-22-2011 at 11:48 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was looking through some kind of magazine like the New Yorker, although a lot of the formatting for the magazine seemed like it was for a popular men's magazine like Maxim.

      There were three articles by Joyce Carol Oates in this magazine. I wanted to write Oates a letter to tell her how much I'd appreciated her articles. But I realized that I hadn't actually read the articles, and that I'd look like just some kind of "autograph hunter" if I wrote the letter, expecting a response, without having read the articles.

      So I flipped through the magazine to find the articles. I found one of the articles, which seemed like a two-pager, on the front and back side of one sheet of paper. The article was all in some kind of grey text box. I figured this article would be the easiest to read, since it was so short. But even it seemed too long.

      I got a little confused as to whether the article was one pages or two pages. I then came to the conclusion that the article was written on both sides of the page, but that the second page was partly taken up by an advertisement. So the whole article was less than two pages long.

      The article, I could probably tell, was about Oates and her "new husband" taking their honeymoon in Italy. But the place they'd rented for their honeymoon seemed to me more like a place they'd just bought or rented for the long term.

      The first paragraph mentioned something about how the apartment was just perfect "for allowing us to tatertater (an expression which means very much the same thing for us adults as it did when we were children)."

      I couldn't figure out what tatertater meant. I just figured it had something to do with making tater tots "out of the can" (?).

      So Oates was apparently pleased at first glance with the place. But she said that there ended up being a lot of faults. Mostly the place hadn't been very well cleaned after the previous occupants left. There were plenty of signs of their still having lived here.

      One was that, "For close-drivers, a guard rail had been put right up against the edge." I couldn't quite figure out what close drivers would be doing in a house, or what kind of edge Oates was talking about.

      But there was a picture, a kind of half-impressionist oil or pastel painting of the place. I looked at it and saw that there was some kind of babmboo fencing, still green, fastened all around the breakfast bar.

      I realized that the "close-drivers" were people who pushed their babies in strollers everywhere and had the habit of bashing into everything with the strollers. The bamboo fencing was put up to protect the wood of the breakfast bar. The apartment seemed to be a living room with the kitchen inside of it. The breakfast bar and the kitchen counter seemed to be the biggest parts of this room of the apartment.

      I was kind of worried. I didn't think I'd be able to get through this article. There was so much new language in it, so much current speech that I couldn't follow. I also felt bad because Oates, a few decades my senior, knew all this current vernacular, while I had no idea what it meant.

      I continued reading the article and looking at the painting. Oates complaints were then that there were empty food cans strewn all over the place, as well as newspapers. I looked at the drawing again. There were newspapers and cans strewn on both the kitchen counters and the floor.

      I thought, Did the landlords here bother to clean this place up at all when the last people left?
    10. noisy neighbors; game boy thief; drafted into army

      by , 06-20-2011 at 11:47 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was at my mom's house, which was in an apartment complex. A family living upstairs from my family was really noisy. It was really getting to the point where my family couldn't take it anymore.

      We were all now down in an underground parking garage. The walls were really clean and white. The fluorescent light was kind of bright and really white.

      Something had been done about the family upstairs. It was like the police had kicked them out.

      Now we saw an old man from the family. He had grey-black hair and a big, grey-black mustache. His hair was really sloppily done. He had a pretty big belly, which his white polo shirt barely covered. He wasn't the father of the family. He was just a member of the family who should have moved out a long time ago.

      He had come to ask my mom for some help. I told my mom to stay away from that guy. She had finally gotten free of him. Why would she let him back into her life? But my mom decided to help the guy.

      The guy needed help on a test. When the police had kicked the man out of the house, they'd told him the only way he could come back was if he could pass a test with a lot of questions about American society and history. But the man couldn't understand most of the questions. So he was getting help from my mom.

      Dream #2

      I was in a bedroom. I'm pretty sure I was at someone else's, possibly my family's house. I was playing some kind of white Game Boy that had a clear purple case around it. Then I left the bedroom.

      Before I'd left, I'd seen an upstairs neighbor, an old, black man with a really skinny bony face, pale skin and blonde-brown hair, peeking in the window at me, as if the bedroom were in a one-story house and not an apartment.

      I came back to the bedroom. I realized that I'd left my Game Boy just sitting out on my bed, where it could be in plain view of the old man. I wanted to put it in a less visible place. But there was a girl standing in front of the door. She wouldn't let me in. She was a pretty, Latina girl in a colorful dress. I knew she was the old man's friend.

      I pushed past the girl and went into the bedroom. The Game Boy was gone. Only the purple case was left. I walked into the living room, upset. The living room was like the one in my great-grandmother's old house.

      Just as I walked into the living room, the old man walked in. He was grinning like he knew just what was going on. He was wearing some kind of suit, maybe beige or tan with a white or blue shirt. I yelled at him, "Where's my Game Boy?" But he just sat down in a chair and kept grinning, like I couldn't do anything to hurt him. I think I got really mad and shook him.

      Dream #3

      I got something in the mail that looked like a greeting card mixed with a letter-sized envelope. It opened on the long side, and it was supposed to be opened so that it flapped upward.

      There was some printed information inside about how I'd been drafted into the Army. Below the printed information were two handwritten numbers, both long, and involving both letters and numbers. I think they each began with an A and a dash.

      I hoped there was some way I could avoid being drafted. I thought, Well, I have a job already. Then I thought, No, I don't have a job. Well, I better get one quick.
    11. retaliative neighbors; swim girls; dean radin's infinite universe

      by , 06-01-2011 at 11:50 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was coming back to my apartment. I was in the second floor hallway areas, which was much bigger than IWL. The atmosphere was blue-grey. The floor seemed to be made out of tiny, square, white tiles. The wall had mailboxes set into it somewhere. I stood outside my door for a moment and then stood inside my apartment, just near the door, possibly even pressed against the door.

      My apartment, I could feel, was pretty big. It had two or three bedrooms. And it was decorated really nice. There may have been a thick, beige rug with a green, hexagonal design on it over the couch. But I didn't see any of this directly, because I was still pressed to the door.

      IWL, I have called the police on my neighbors on a number of occasions for banging and pounding violently on the floors all through the day and night whenever I'm home. Now, somehow, I heard that my neighbors were getting back at me for calling the police on them. They had called the police on me. They may have claimed that I was now the one making noise.

      But they may also have claimed that I was guilty of a much worse crime, some kind of violent crime. I thought about it for a while. I wasn't certain that I actually hadn't committed this crime.

      At some point a woman was coming up to my apartment to visit me. Then she may actually have been in my apartment. I don't think I ever saw her. I may only have imagined her being in my apartment. She was pretty. She had a gentle, but serious expression. As I continued pressing myself against my door I either spoke to the woman or imagined having a conversation with her.

      Dream #2

      I was walking down a concrete path on a sunny day. The path may have been between two lawns. But on either side of the path were chest-high, chain-link fences.

      At some point another concrete path joined the one I was on from the left, at a right angle. Five girls were walking up that path. They were maybe 7 or 8 years old, but they may have been 10 or 11 years old.

      They were all skinny, tanned deeply by a lot of time in the sun. They had brown hair. They wore orange bikinis with yellow stripe on the left breats. They were all wet, as if they'd just gotten out of the pool. Their wet hair, shoulder-length, was slicked back from their foreheads and kind of tangly.

      Dream #3

      I was in the middle of classroom, walking between the aisles and rows of seats. The class was full, and all the students had their heads down. They were either studying very hard or taking an exam. I think I was just wandering around, not quite sure I belonged to the class.

      Dean Radin, the President (?) of the Institute for Noetic Sciences, was somewhere. I could see an image of him, as if it were stuck in the back of my head. He looked a bit too skinny, and he wore some kind of black baseball cap, like somebody from NASA or a SWAT team might wear.

      Radin explained that people thought the universe was a certain age. He may have said 4.5, 8.3, or 83 billion years old. "But this isn't so," Radin explained. "Because each of us sees the universe and perceives the time of the universe through our own eyes. So if you add up the years of the universe perceived through the eyes of all those beings living in it, you get a much higher number."

      Radin's argument didn't quite make sense to me. I was trying to figure out how it could be true. Radin then went on to explain how this phenomenon of multiple views of the universe actually made the universe infinite.

      I had a vision of a lot of plastic, transparent cirlces, like bracelets or necklaces for little kids. The circles were all one piece, but they looked like they were made out of a number of spherical beads. The bracelets were one color. Some were yellow-green; others were orange.

      I was now in "my bedroom," which had two beds in it. It was night, and my light was on. On my back wall, on the left side, near the ground, and just a little ways away from my bed, there was a huge hole. Inside the hole I saw a wooden wall which also appeared to have dirt in it. Apparently I lived in the basement. My upstairs neighbors had put this hole in my wall so things from underground could get into my room.

      I suddenly had a mystical feeling, like this hole would somehow connect me with whatever it was Radin had been talking about.
    12. meeting friend in cafe; with friend in restaurant

      by , 05-28-2011 at 01:32 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a cafe that looked more like a small deli. The space was really tight, although the store seemed to extend pretty far back. There was one narrow area that tiered up a meter or so to a narrow platform. Then there were stairsteps down to a very narrow back area with a drinks display refrigerator. Beside the narrow platform there was some kind of buffet style sevice area, with a cash register at the end, near the front of the store.

      My friend R was in the cafe, sitting at some small table around a corner (?) at the back end of the platform area. I might have been surprised to meet him here, but I may also have been scheduled to meet him here.

      R may have been finished eating. He had at least gotten his food. I was kind of ashamed that I was so slow that I hadn't even picked up my food yet. I needed to get food. R said something like he'd wait for me to get my food and then leave.

      I was definitely thinking of a specific kind of food. I think desserts were the main thing served here. But I got an image in my head of a white cake box with a small turkey or whole cornish game hen in it.

      I looked at the drinks display case for a moment, then I went to the cashier. Space felt pretty weird. Sometimes I felt like I stood higher than the cashier. Other times I felt like I didn't feel like I could order, receive, or pay for my food. I felt like my ineptitude might have been annoying the cashier. But she was remaining polite and smiling the whole time.

      Dream #2

      I was in a restaurant with my friend H. Another woman was following us. The woman was A, a girl who works at a cafe I go to all the time.

      The restaurant was apparently a fine restaurant. But it looked kind of like a big living room in an ordinary, suburban house, filled with dining tables. The windows were smallish and high up on the walls, giving the sense that this place was sunk down a little into the ground. Everything had a blue-grey light. The carpet may have been blue. The restaurant was full of people, mostly older people.

      H and I had been sitting at one table, but the girl A had followed us there. So now we'd been moved to another table. But A followed us there as well. Our table was a long table, maybe made for four or six people. A sat at a table for two which was connected with another table for two by a wooden, bench-style seat. That table was at right angles to ours, and A sat with her back to H and I.

      I may have seen all of this as if I were looking at it from outside my body. I may have been wearing a round-brimmed hat, like I wore in college.

      Upset that A was following us again, I decided to leave the restaurant. I managed to get H and I up and out of the restaurant at a time when A wasn't looking. We were gone, but my view remained in the restaurant.

      A waitress came up to serve A. The waitress was Asian and wore a black shirt and black oants. A asked the waitress who I was and where I was going.

      I probably now saw from A's point of view. She was walking along some portico area made of stone or concrete and brick. She kept passing all these clothing stores and other stores. Some of the stores were set into the brick wall. Others were on the opposite side, the open air side, of the portico, between the columns, apparently in thin air. Other stores were just signs standing up on polished metal poles.

      The stores were all also like apartments. The quality of the clothes in each store indicated the quality of the apartment. A (I still saw through her eyes) was looking through all these stores to find out which one indicated the apartment I lived in.

      As she did this, she had a thought-conversation with a woman who seemed to be an older, guiding figure in her life. I'd occasionally see the woman's face fading before A's view, like a ghostly double-exposure on a photo.

      A finally walked past one store which didn't look like a store at all. It actually looked like the sliding doors of an elevator, except made out of pale wood. The doors were also almost 3 meters tall. There were some words in gold or bronze lettering that gave the name of the store, some store for really good men's suits. This, A assumed, was where I lived, or that this was the clothing store that indicated what kind of apartment I live in.

      A was now convinced that I was some kind of billionaire. I don't think her plan was right away to follow me into this store, which now, at least, actually did lead to my apartment. I think she planned to come up with some way to blackmail me or trick me into being with her so she could have my money.

      But then A (I still seeing through her eyes) saw a man standing in the doorway of the store, as if the doors swung open instead of sliding open. The man was white, about average height, a little stocky, but muscly. He had close-shaved hair on his head and a little stubble on his face. He wore a brown or grey blazer, a green, button-up shirt, and blue jeans.

      The man may have been inviting A into the store. I think that A now figured that she would go into the store and try to find my apartment.
    13. listening to CDs with friend

      by , 05-22-2011 at 12:53 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was with my old friend R in "his bedroom," which looked more like a college dorm. I sat on the floor. The carpet was red. The room was small. The walls seemed to be covered in shelves full of books and CDs. There may have been pieces of fabric hanging from the walls and ceiling, with some kind of hippie designs. To my right I could possibly see a small doorway leading to a bathroom and a kitchen.

      R was standing by the door, like he had come to the apartment just now. We were listening to some new music which he wanted me to hear. It might not have sounded very interesting to me. But at one point there was an electric sound that R pointed out as sounding like the high, spooky notes in a David Bowie song.

      I agreed with R, but I couldn't remember the name of the David Bowie song. But I couldn't let it go. It was one of my favorite songs, so I needed to remember it. Suddenly I had one of the images in my head, the pinkish, electric image of the clown walking in the barren landscape. That helped me. I said, "Ashes to Ashes!"

      R thought that was correct. But just to check he said he would turn on his David Bowie CD to see. We were now over at a niche in the wall which held another shelf, on which was a kind of big, old, clunky looking CD player, surrounded by tons of CDs. I still sat on the floor, now in front of something like a red table.

      R took a CD case for a double-CD album. The case was paper and all white, with fancy, silver cursive on the front. The CD was apparently something like a best of David Bowie collection.

      R played the CD. But where he had started the CD, possibly right in the middle of the album, a Japanese song started playing. R asked who this was. I told him it was Mr. Children, and that they were really good. But I may have stood up and changed to the next song. I wanted to get away from the Mr. Children song, possibly because I didn't feel like we had time to listen to it. I really wanted to hear the David Bowie song.
    14. bomb 1; bomb 2; my phone; friend's house; screening theatre; meeting events; friend's apartment

      by , 05-16-2011 at 11:41 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      A nuclear bomb had struck. I was somehow put in charge of keeping some kind of order within a small group of people, possibly in some desert town.

      Dream #2

      Again, a nuclear bomb had struck, and I was put in charge of keeping some kind of order within a small group of people.

      Dream #3

      I was outside, possibly in some kind of desert area. I stood with a few people in front of a small house. My mother may have been among the people.

      A short, middle-aged man with wiry, black hair asked me about my phone. He seemed unfamiliar with Android phones. He was more familiar with iPhones. He was particularly interested in how I played music on my phone.

      I gave the man my phone. I hoped he wouldn't look at my internet history and see the perverted sites I went to.

      The man fiddled with the screen to make some green, holographic image appear. He then handed the phone back to me. He said, "Well, they made that really easy to use, didn't they?"

      I thought the man had complimented my phone. But I felt elated, as if he had complimented me.

      Dream #4

      I took my friend H to meet my old friend R. We were at a house in suburbia. It was darj night, and the street was very lonely.

      R opened the door and let us in. His house was dim inside, but it looked kind of big. We were in some kind of front living room. H sat in a chair by a wall next to a staircase up to the second floor.

      R and I had gone out for some reason. Now we were coming back. We were probably wearing clothes we would have worn in college. I may have been wearing a round-brimmed hat. We were talking about history and politics.

      We got back to R's house. I was surprised to find H there, but I couldn't exactly figure why I was surprised. So I introduced H to R. Both H and R laughed at me. R said, "You already did that!"

      We three sat at a dining table in the kitchen. H and R were getting along well, and H had even dressed in some of R's clothes while R and I had been away.

      Dream #5

      I was in some kind of theatre, possibly a movie theatre. But the screen must have been way up high, because, as I sat in the front row, all I could see while looking forward was a brown-beige wall of wide, plastic squares. Over to my right was a tall structure, like a judge's stand, made out of the same material.

      I was alone in the front row at first. But then two old ladies came and sat on either side of me. They each had a few bags of stuff, and they sat the stuff so that it kind of crowded me.

      I may have looked down to a piece of paper in my hands to see exactly what kind of event was going to be happening here.

      Dream #6

      I was at some kind of event for gifted kids, as if I were in high school or college again. The event was like some kind of convention. This may have been the last day of the convention.

      I was looking forward to some bunch of events that may have been taking place after the official convention stuff was over. But I knew that I had to go back to work or school the next day. So I didn't want to spend too much time at the after-party stuff.

      I looked at a piece of paper saying what was going on. There was some concert that looked interesting to me: a girl band whose name had "Cherry" in it. They were playing "pretty late:" the concert the Cherry band were in started at 8 or 9 PM, and the Cherry band would be the last group to play. But I decided I'd better stay anyway. The Cherry band sounded too cool to miss.

      Dream #7

      I was in an apartment stairwell with H, my brother, and my sister. We were coming to visit the new apartment of R and his wife, L.

      L opened the door. She let us in. The living room was really big, but it felt more like the interior of a brick-oven pizzeria than like the interior of a house.

      L said that R was doing something like taking a shower. L sat around talking to us in a relaxed but kind of detached manner. I think my sister may have been the most active person in the conversation.
    15. st. louis wish; airplane and laundry

      by , 04-21-2011 at 12:07 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      There was a view that was partly like a TV view and partly like a scene that I was inside of. The view was of a kitchen. The kitchen looked like it was from a 1950s TV show, like The Honeymooners. The floor, walls, and tables were grey.

      A family was in the kitchen. The children sat at the table with a man who was possibly the kids' father, although he may not have been a relation at all. The wife was walking around in the kitchen, possibly getting food ready. The children were all young, less than ten years old. The children and the mother may all have been wearing heavy nightgowns. The man was somewhat professionally dressed, and he seemed to have waxed hair and a waxed mustache.

      The children and the mother were all giving the man a gift. They were going to take the man anywhere he wanted to go. The man was surprised by this gift. He put some serious effort into thinking of where he wanted to go. He may have thought of some exotic places. But then the children began playing some kind of weird tag-like game around the man's chair.

      The man seemed to be having just as much fun with this game as the children were having. But the man fell in his chair at one point. He appeared to be injured. The children, who had been afraid of the man before, were now afraid of him again. He may have been knocked out, or he may have been dying. But the kids didn't want to be around when the man had regained enough consciousness to yell at the kid.

      The kids ran through some kind of weird place that looked like an outdoor scene indoors. The ground was grey and slightly hilly, but it all seemed to be littered slightly with white wads of paper. The kids found some group of parents.

      I was trying to make a point to everybody (even though I wasn't necessarily in the scene) that the man wasn't mad. I now saw the man. He was still lying on his back on the kitchen floor, wheezing in and out, barely conscious. He was being tended to by a man and a woman. He was saying that if he was going to go anywhere it would be to St. Louis, so he could see his family again.

      Dream #2

      I was in some apartment complex. I had come out of the apartment I was in. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, as if were going to rain heavily or as if it had just gotten finished raining. A man and a woman were walking down the steps from a floor above me. We were leaving the apartment at the same time for some similar reason. We may actually have been leaving together.

      I saw a huge American Airlines plane flying really low near the apartment. It flew over a deep green landscape, like trees over a rolling, suburban neighborhood. The plane was so low I thought it was going to crash. But it didn't.

      I may have needed to speed up to get where I was going. I ran down a stairwell and then did someb weird move where I slid down one of the vertical poles of the complex.

      I was now on the ground level of the complex (even though I may previously have been on the ground level as well). I walked around a corner of the building and went into a laundry room. I had to grab my laundry before I could leave.

      Some other people had apparently used the dryers after I had put my clothes in them. The dryers and washing machines were actually stuffed full of clothes, as if at least two other groups of people had come in after me and shoved their clothes into the machines without first taking the clothes out that the previous people had left in. It also appeared to me that some people had taken some of their clothes out already. The laundry room was filled with piles of clothes.

      I was kind of worried that my laundry had only been partly done. But I began to pick through all the clothes, trying to find everything that was mine, so I could leave. As I was picking through the clothes I found two pairs of panties. The panties looked like they were for a little girl. They were white and made of terry cloth. They had some design of Tweety Bird and some quote in cursive writing on the front. One pair had a purple waistband and one pair had a pink waistband.

      I figured I would steal one of these pairs of panties. Probablyb nobody would notice, I thought. I knew the panties were for a little girl, but I figured I could fit into them as well. I may have decided on the panties with the pink waistband. I may have been worried about getting caught while I was stealing the panties.

      I was now sitting in some living room. A woman was walking up a staircase, possibly up from a basement. I was afraid to see her, as if it just seemed so uncanny that she could appear from the stairs. But now the woman came down the stairs from an upper floor. The woman was my co-worker, SP. She was wearing boy clothes. She wore a brown, button-up shirt and a round-brimmed hat. She had a suitcase with her.

      SP told me that she had gotten all her laundry taken care of and that she was now leaving. She told me that she had even seen my laundry in the laundry room. Something she said implied somehow that she had actually sorted and folded my clothes for me. I asked her if this was true. She said yes. She said that everything was laid out in the laundry room for me. I may have seen everything on a folding table with a fake wood top in my mind's eye.

      SP may have made some comment about how difficult it had been to sort my clothes out of all the other clothes in the laundry room, but how she had done it because she thought it that my clothes were important enough to keep track of.
    Page 1 of 2 1 2 LastLast