• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

    View RSS Feed


    1. hugging sisters and boys in cafe

      by , 11-20-2011 at 03:08 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was standing in a corridor that looked like it had a wheelchair ramp built into it. The wall I faced was a window wall, extending all the way down the corridor. There may have been a hairpin turn along the wall to get to a tiny, glass-walled space before the exit door.

      I probably stood right at the door, inside the building. Outside stood a family. They were all telling me goodbye. The family was white, kind of well-off-looking. There were an older dad, probably a mom, and a bunch of other people.

      There were two little girls in the family, and I may have been attracted to the littler one. She may have been five or six years old.

      I took some chance to hug the little girl. I had a feeling that if I hugged her, we could both share our feelings of attraction for one another in some secret way. I was sure she was attracted to me, too. But I didn't want to get in trouble for showing my feelings.

      Later on I may have been in some cafe. I may have been sitting at a table with a white boy. The table we sat at was against a wall. I sat on one end of the table so that the wall was to my right. The boy sat at the adjacent end, so that he faced the wall.

      He was probably gay. He was tall, kind of pretty. He had his hair shaved really close on the sides and then kind of flowing on top. He wore a grey jacket, and he may have had the collar of the jacket turned up.

      The boy was kind of stuck-up, it seemed to me. I was pretty sure he hated me. I didn't want to bother him. But I was also kind of angry that he acted so stuck-up. I felt threatened, and I wanted to prove somehow that I wasn't threatened.

      I was now back with the family at the door. The older sister was now talking to me. The older sister was maybe ten or eleven years old. She had blonde-brown hair and tan skin. She wore a white skirt and a turquoise tank-top.

      The older sister told me that the little sister had gotten sick or something, so she couldn't hug anybody. So the older sister would have to hug me instead.

      I knew that the older sister was attracted to me. I knew that she thought if she could just get a chance to hug me, she'd make me attracted to her instead of to her little sister.

      I hugged the girl. She wasn't skinny, but her body, around her waist, felt strong. I did feel like I was attracted to her. But I didn't want her family to know. I didn't want to get in trouble.

      I walked out the door with the family. I either held hands with the older sister or managed to do something with her like lift her up onto my shoulders, so she was riding on my shoulders.

      Everybody in the family seemed pretty happy. For some reason, I asked the girl something either like, "If you knew this was the last day of your life, what would you do?" or, "If this were the last day of your life, could you truly say you've died happy?"

      I was now back in the cafe with the tall, white boy. I had apparently asked him some question as well. He was writing something in a notebook. His handwriting was mostly capital letters, very blocky, in something like black, felt-tip pen. But he was also answering me. I had a feeling that he was finally coming around to liking me.

      Then another boy sat across the table from me. He had olive skin and black hair, with his bangs kind of spiked down a bit over his forehead. He wore a brownish sweatshirt. He also seemed to be gay.

      The first boy had at some point gone to open the door of the cafe so that some cool air could flow in. But the second boy sat next to the thermostat. He turned up the heat.

      The first boy asked the second boy if he'd turned up the heat. The second boy said he had. It wasn't clear whether he'd done it because the open door was making him cold or because he wanted to keep the heat at a level that was sure to annoy the first boy.

      The first boy stood up to go close the cafe door, assuming that if he did that, the second boy would turn down the thermostat. But as he stood up, the first boy said to the second boy, "You know, I'm really beginning to despise you."
    2. ghost bridge

      by , 08-15-2011 at 12:40 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dragon #1

      It was black night. I was walking to a cafe, probably because I thought I was going to meet some friends there, in particular my old friend ML. I may actually have known ML was going to be at the cafe, though he hadn't invited me. I may have decided to show up at the cafe, in spite of his not inviting me, just so he'd know I knew.

      I was in some small shopping plaza, possibly at the edge of a smallish residential area in a suburban town. The shopping plaza was three stories tall. It was a series of buildings, kind of like office buildings. The shops were all connected to each other by outdoor balconies. I stood between the buildings in a big, concrte courtyard. I felt like the cafe was in the basement level of one of these buildings.

      I may then have been out by a bridge, somewhere near the banks of a river. I was working on some kind of box, like an electrical box attached to some kind of short, stout, concrete pole. The "box" may have been something more like a simple switch. The switch may have been in decent condition, but the metal base around the switch may have been really rusty. I may have heard some weird, whistling sound, which may have frightened me.

      I was in some room, probably with three other people. The room we were in felt a little like a living room. But the room was so big and empty and cold-feeling that it seemed more like some kind of business room. There was a huge window-wall looking out on the black night.

      One of the three other people was an older man, probably dressed nicely. He was like a boss to the rest of us. Another was a woman, about my age (early 30s), dressed like a business woman. The third person was probably a man.

      The boss told us something we should get started working on. But he told us, as he seemed to be leaving the room, that we should avoid going down to the bridge. The man now seemed to be touching a glass case, trying to get an electric reaction out of something else in the case.

      The man told us that certain monitoring equipment was picking up a strange noise down there. The noise, the man told us (although I heard it at the same time) was like a phone picking up, with a conversation way in the distance. But the noise would soon turn to a shrill buzzing. This kind of noise indicated ghost activity, though I don't think the man said this directly.

      I suddenly remembered my own experience near the bridge. I didn't tell the man about it. Instead, I tried to question the man more on the characteristics of the sound. I got a little more info from the man.

      The person who had had the ghost experience was now a woman. After hearing the info regarding the ghost bridge, the woman seemed to have become distracted and dazed. The man had told the other people to keep the woman from going to the bridge. But the woman was definitely going to try to go back.

      At first it seemed like the people were all staying in different cabins in some kind of wildnerness area. The woman snuck away from her cabin without anybody noticing. She was running down through a well-manicured but large garden area and down to the bridge. She wore a Victorian-style dress, probably white on top and pale, sea-blue on the skirt. She also had red hair, done up and back in a round, Victorian style.

      Now it was like all the people were staying in one big mansion. But the woman had escaped the mansion. She was riding a bike on a garden path between two rows of very tall, euonymus-type shrubs. At one point, she turned a corner. As soon as she turned the corner, a man, also dressed in Victorian clothing, stood up and began pursuing the woman.

      The man knew what path the woman was taking. He also knew paths he could take as shortcuts, so that he could cut the woman off, even though she was on a bike and he was on foot. There was water somewhere, coming from something like a fountain or a lawn sprinkler.

      The woman was riding through a section of path with the hedges so thick on either side that she couldn't see anything else. Suddenly the man grabbed the woman from behind. He pulled her off her bike, spun her around, and embraced her. The man acted like he was in love with the woman -- maybe he was. The woman and the man embraced and kissed.

      The man and woman were now in a bedroom. But now the man was a woman. The two women were kissing, and it looked like they were going to end up in bed together. But the first woman broke free of the second woman. She took on a dazed kind of attitude again and said that she had to go away. It was pretty obvious that she was going to try togo to the ghost bridge, though she may not have said it.

      The second woman lay down in bed. She was partly frustrated that she hadn't gotten to have sex with the first woman. But she was also frustrated that she hadn't been able to keep the woman from trying to go back to the ghost bridge.

      The second woman now pulled a hood over her head. (The second woman also had red hair, though her hair was darker than the first woman's hair.) The woman wore a pale sea-blue nightgown. The hood was a part of the gown. But it was a wizard's hood. The woman said something like, "We'll see about that girl! She thinks she can just go like that when she's been kept from the place. I'll pay her back for acting that way."

      The second woman lay her head on her pillow. It looked like she was going to fall asleep. But I felt like she was going to try and perform some kind of magic action against the first woman.

      I now sat in a cafe, which was more like a waiting area in some place like a college or a hospital. It was like the ghost bridge incidents had been from a movie I'd been watching, and that I had just now been deep in a reverie regarding the memories of that movie. I had also remembered some background tune from the movie, and I was humming it to myself.

      I sat on the arm of an orange, thickly cushioned chair. I was looking out a big window, to some lawny area like in a city park. It was daytime, and the light was bright grey outside. A skinny, young, black man sat at a picnic bench near the window. I knew the man was following me. He couldn't come into the cafe for some reason or another. So he had to wait outside for me.

      I was kind of sick of being followed around by this guy, and I was wishing there was some way I could stop him. But I also seemed to be really preoccupied with the imagery of the ghost bridge "movie."

      Somebody else in the "cafe" started brashly humming a terribly out of key tune. It suddenly drew attention to the fact that I was still humming the background music from the ghost bridge "movie." I stopped huming as soon as I realized that I'd been humming loud enough for other people to hear.

      I sat there silently, still staring out the window, though I couldn't see out the window very well anymore. My focus was more on the man, who kept humming horribly out of key.

      I looked to my left, to the man, who sat in a chair, reading a newspaper. The man was old, from some Latin-European country, I guessed. He wore an orange polo shirt. He was short, and he was good looking, but he also looked kind of mean and rude. Another old man was sitting at the end of a couch, directly to the first old man's right. This man was a little taller, pale skinned, a little overweight, and bald.

      I looked away from the old men. I figured that now that I'd stopped humming, the man would also stop humming. But he only began to hum even louder! I was like he was trying to annoy me, rather than trying to say anything about how I'd been humming too loud. I was getting kind of mad, because the guy just kept humming louder and louder and more and more off key.

      But, finally, the second old man said, "Look! You don't like it when people do things like that? Then don't do those kinds of things yourself!"
    3. 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.
    4. artist's portfolio at a cafe

      by , 07-28-2011 at 11:34 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a cafe. The place was big and new-feeling, with white-tile floors and white tables. The ceiling was high and had kind of watery, fluorescent lights, like in a club warehouse. There was a big window wall off to the side, showing the blue light of early evening.

      A young woman sat a couple of tables away from me. She may have been working on something. An older woman walked up to the table and talked to the younger woman about something. It may have been to ask the woman if she would move something of hers off the table.

      Later, the young woman was gone, and the older woman had a bunch of friends with her. I may have had a better view of the woman now. She may have been kind of short, a little overweight, with pale red hair and pale skin. She may have been wearing a pale-beige beret and dark glasses.

      The woman's friends, and possibly the woman herself, all spoke with some kind of accent, maybe Spanish or Portugese. I stood near the people. The people were all complaining about something about the young woman, something about her having left or moved something of hers.

      I explained to the people that the young woman had simply moved her artist's portfolio off the table and over to an unused corner of the cafe. To prove this, I ran over to the corner of the cafe that was slightly cluttered with some unused furniture and household items. The portfolio was on top of a record player with a smoky-clear plastic lid. The portfolio itself was really big and made of a greenish-brown leather.

      I don't think I picked up the portfolio. I was now back at the table with the older woman. Her old friends were now kind of stepped back from the table, maybe involved in some kind of casual conversation amongst themselves in their own language. The older woman sat at the table while I stood.

      The older woman told me she knew that the young woman had put her artist's portfolio over there. The younger woman had asked her to do so. The older woman then said something like, "And thank goodness I didn't have to ask her friend to move her artworks over there as well!"

      I knew that the young woman had a female friend who was a sculptor. So I knew the friend's works would be really big and hefty. I imagined a sculpture like the Venus de Milo, life-size, standing atop the woman's portfolio as it rested on the record player. I told the older woman, "No kidding! Imagine what would have happened to the record player's lid! It would have been crushed!"
    5. 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.
    6. reticent boss and outdoor cafe; girls at cafe

      by , 04-07-2011 at 11:45 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was at my office, sitting in my cubicle. My boss came up from behind me on my left side and asked me whether I had finished some work for him.

      Apparently I was looking at some kind of online newspaper which had a photo on it depicting the Acts of the Apostles. My boss had wanted me to do some research on that book in the Bible, apparently.

      I probably had not read the Acts of the Apostles. I might not even have quite understood what he'd wanted me to do. But he was disappointed in me. He kind of smirked at me and went into his office.

      I kind of thought everything through and realized that my boss actually hadn't told me anything he'd wanted me to do. Why should he act mad at me? So I decided to go to his office and tell him that.

      I went to my boss' office just as he was about to leave for some business trip. There was a short, pale man with pale blonde hair standing before my boss' office. The man was interviewing as a replacement for me. He was in a suit and he carried a briefcase. He wore glasses.

      My boss had walked to the printer and was now walking toward and then past his office. I followed him all the way. We both seemed to have ignored the guy being interviewed.

      I kept yelling at my boss, trying to get him to pay attention to me. But he just gave me this stone face, with eyes belying the fact that he was having a lot of fun watching me be so upset. We actually got into an elevator and went down to the first floor.

      I yelled at my boss that if he wanted me to do something, he needed to tell me to do it instead of just assuming I could read his mind. He couldn't get mad at me for the fact that he never spoke to me.

      The elevator doors opened. My boss walked out, still completely disregarding me. We were walking through an unfamiliar, but kind of nice, elevator bank. I got right in front of my boss and flipped him off, right to his face, right in front of his eyes. For some reason, the image reminded me of candle images reflected in eyeglasses.

      My boss kept smirking and ignoring me. I thought, Geez! The only time I do something like this is when I'm drunk!

      My boss was gone, and I was back in the elevator. As the elevator doors opened, I thought how it might be nice to do something like break my boss' leg. I had an image in my head of somebody's lower leg being broken.

      I walked out of the elevator and into what was apparently an outdoor cafe. It was a blue night. There were tables everywhere. There was a makeshift barista counter at the back end. That was the only thing lit. Everything else was dark.

      I saw some of my friends from college. They were talking and laughing about something like anime or j-pop. For some reason, I flew up into the air. As I did, I heard my friend B talking about a specific song.

      I flew sharply up into the air and then turned and flew sharply back downward. I heard B singing a song. At first I didn't think he was singing the actual words. I thought he was just joking. But then I realized he was singing the actual Japanese words. I was pretty impressed!

      I kept flying around. I flew at a level not too far above all the people in the cafe. I may just have been floating around, listening to everybody's conversations and having my own thoughts.

      Dream #2

      I was in a cafe I go to a lot, sitting on a couch. A pretty, blonde girl sat on the couch, at the other end. She may have seemed to be a little attracted to me. But I didn't worry about it, and I just did my own thing.

      Then a pretty, black girl sat at a table near the couch. She seemed to want to sit on the couch. There was one more space left open, so I tried to make it clear with my body language that she could sit there.

      The black girl sat on the couch. I noticed her knee-length skirt was really pretty. It was a nice shade of yellow, with some kind of quaint, pink embroidery on the lower right corner.

      The girl moved all the way over to the blonde girl's part of the couch. The two shifted around so that they were resting their backs agaist the armrest of the couch. They stretched out their legs and began snuggling a bit. It was almost like they were in bed together.

      The two girls started talking about something, some class or something. The blonde girl, sitting on the outer side, dropped a big textbook onto the floor. I somehow realized that the girls had wanted me to think they were both alone, so I'd try to pick one of them up, and then they'd reveal they were actually together to taunt me. But I hadn't tried to pick either of them up, so I wasn't really worried about it.
    7. grocery store kids; bon appetit, Marilyn Monroe; lost and lucid

      by , 03-11-2011 at 12:46 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a huge grocery store. At some point I was in the produce section. A boy and girl and possibly one more child, all siblings, stood at some stand displaying apples or some other kind of fruit. One of the children may have been writing on a piece of paper that was resting on the apples.

      Dream #2

      I was in a dim room that was full of people. The place was like a club mixed with a museum. I sat on a really low chair or sofa made of red leather.

      A bunch of little kids would come up and sit with me. They didn't know me. They just thought I was interesting. I was kind of flattered. A few of the kids were Asian. Their dad was nearby, looking at paintings and talking to people. One of the Asian kids looked like an old person. He had longish hair, but he was balding on top.

      I and one little boy were now watching what was supposed to be Gentlemen Prefer Blondes on a video screen in the floor. The screen was about the size of a small TV screen.

      In one scene, Marilyn Monroe walks into a fountain at night. She was apparently naked, and she apparently said "bon appetit," though I did't hear or see any of this. The boy asked me what bon appetit means.

      I tried to explain to the boy that it didn't mean anything bad. The scene now replayed itself. I thought, there's no way Marilyn Monroe was naked in this movie. They wouldn't have allowed it!

      Marilyn now walked into the fountain, which was an enormous pool of water at the foot of a staircase before a huge building. She was wearing a thin, body-length dress. The soaked dress became kind of, but not extremely, see-through.

      Marilyn now swam up to the camera, which was positioned at the side of the huge fountain, and said "bon appetit."

      Now all kinds of weird blue and green digital drawings blotted onto the screen like crude versions of fireworks.

      Dream #3

      I was walking home at night. But somehow I had lost my way. I was walking through some kind of suburban neighborhood. I would turn down streets and think I was finally in the right place. But then I'd see I was still in the wrong place.

      At one point I got to a streetcorner which looked exactly like a streetcorner near my house. But it was completely empty, and the buildings were all shut down and featureless, maybe even windowless. I wondered what had happened to my neighborhood. But I suddenly realized this wasn't my neighborhood. The buildings I was looking at were part of some huge hospital.

      I turned around and walked another way. I was now in the parking lot of some area like a church. I felt like I might not even have been in the right borough. I turned to walk out of the parking lot. I grabbed my phone, which was my old phone, to try to get an idea of where I was.

      I wondered how I'd gotten so lost. It didn't seem possible. I thought, Maybe I'm dreaming. I didn't think it was possible, but I tested myself anyway. I jumped up into the air to see if I could fly. I began floating a little bit. So I was dreaming.

      I couldn't control my flight. I was floating backwards. I managed to get floating forward, about 3m off the ground. I was coasting through some suburban neighborhood. I still didn't know where I was. I told myself, You can't see where you are because it's dark. If this is your dream, then make it light.

      So I made it light outside. But the world suddenly got very blurry.

      I was now floating down toward something. I thought I had woken from my dream. I floated past one of my co-workers, C, who was giving some self-important lecture about something.

      I was down in the frozen food section of some grocery store. I was looking at some children's picture book or some piece of paper on which I'd scrawled some stuff. I was still thinking to myself what a disappointment it was that I'd woken from my lucid dream.
    8. blind boy, girl's funeral; cafe of friends

      by , 01-30-2011 at 03:11 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a car like a limousine with a group of people. The interior surfaces of the limo may have been black. The inside of the limo was very dim, as if the windows were tinted. But it appeared to be a sunny afternoon outside.

      A boy sat in a sideways seat, his back against the left side of the limo. To his left was the back side of the driver's seat. A mother-like person may have been driving the limo.

      The boy made some kind of statement like, "I see the quarters are of all different colors. They won't be good to take." In my mind's eye I could see the boy's view. Against a black background were a few quarters. They all gleamed with flashing color. I remember one quarter for sure being pink. But others may have been yellow and blue.

      A man somewhere, maybe even in my head, said, "That's a strong statement, a blind boy talking about the colors of things. I suppose that's reason enough not to do the thing after all."

      I hadn't realized until this time that the boy was blind. I now understood that the boy was slowly being the person in the family who was looked to as the leader. The older man in the family had died recently.

      The boy's statement had been taken seriously because he had been blind and yet made a statement about seeing. But it had also been taken seriously because it was one of the first times the boy had made an assertion for his family to listen to.

      The boy kind of felt some anxiety. He didn't know whether he could or even should be a leader. He didn't know if his family really wanted him to be a leader.

      I also personally wondered how the boy was expected to be the leader in the family. He was just a boy. There were a lot of older men in the family, including the older man who had made such a positive comment about the boy's colored-quarter statement.

      The car was traveling past some church, which I saw outside the window. The church looked like a tan-bricked, one-story school. There was a kind of big, slightly rolling lawn in front of it.

      I knew we were heading to the church to go to a funeral. I figured it was the funeral for the leader of the family, who, I'd thought, had been an older man. But it turned out that the funeral was for a young girl. I think, however, that it now occurred to me that the girl had been the leader of the family.

      I was somehow informed how the girl had died. Her boyfriend had killed her. I saw the boyfriend in my mind. He was white, around 18-20 years old, and kind of a violent, crazy person. I now saw the story in something like an English newspaper that looked like it was formatted in an Asian style. I'm pretty sure that the newspaper was on paper. But the imagery also looks like an online paper.

      Apparently the boyfriend killed the girl after she had told him she was only 7 years old. He'd thought that the girl had led him into falling in love with her, and that she had made him a pedophile. But it turned out that the whole thing had been a game. The girl and her mother were playing a little prank on the boy, and then, when the boy was thoroughly flustered, to tell the boyfriend the girl's real age. The girl 13.

      But the prank turned out bad. The boyfriend got terribly violent right away and killed the girl. I think the mother got murdered as well.

      Dream #2

      It was night. I walked into a cafe. The cafe only seemed to be half-lit, as if the store were actually closed down. But there were a lot of workers behind the counter. The workers all wore black shirts and beige baseball caps. They may also have worn aprons. I walked to my left, past the counter. As I turned the corner to the right, I came to another counter.

      Passing this way, I saw a girl I recognized as a friend from my past. (I don't think I really know her from waking life.) She was really pretty, with tan skin and blue eyes. Her light brown hair was turning grey. This surprised me. I couldn't believe my friend's hair was grey! But, then, I thought, we're all getting old, me and my friends.

      Behind the second counter a lot of workers were all sat in folding chairs before a television. They were all watching some movie. This was like some kind of recreational activity for them. A man behind the counter stood up and walked toward the counter to me. I may have recognized him as a friend as well. He probably asked me what I would like. I probably asked him for a coffee.
    9. playing boxes; people in basement; cafe and grocery store; getting leads for report

      by , 01-19-2011 at 01:11 PM
      Good morning everybody.

      Dream #1

      I sat in the dark, facing a bunch of boxes. I would tap the sides or tops of the boxes or gently squeeze the boxes, and they would produce chime-like notes. I may eventually have started to play a song on these boxes.

      (I woke up to my headphones playing a tune from a music-box from the end of a song.)

      Dream #2

      I was in "my mom's house." It was dark. My mom and my nephews were in the living room with me. I sat on the floor, in front of the front door, facing the right arm of the couch.

      My sister came up from the basement. She was really angry. She yelled back down the stairs some sarcastic comment that made it clear that some guy and his mom were downstairs, possibly with my brother-in-law. The guy was either running from the police or was a generally shady character that my sister didn't want around the kids.

      We were all afraid to have to deal with these people and get them out of the house. My sister eventually went outside to her car. My brother-in-law may have been there as well. My sister was getting ready to leave the house. She also may have been calling the police. I wondered if there was some car I could take to get me back to my hotel for the night.

      Dream #3

      I sat at a cafe with my old friend H. The cafe was open, a little dim, with greyish daylight coming in through the windows. The floors were white tile, and the tables were a thin kind of wood. There may have been potted palm trees somewhere. The place was kind of empty.

      I ate some kind of carrot bread while trying to explain something to H about how we'd been here or near here in the past. I said something like we'd been at the back end of this cafe, more pointed toward the Sunrise Market (?).

      I could now see outside. The cafe was a part of a two-floor complex. Just a ways away, across a wide stretch of sidewalk, was a much larger shopping complex, apparently the market I had been mentioning. It was brown- and tan-painted concrete. It looked like a grocery store with another floor or shops on top of it. The sky above was a pale grey.

      I was now in a dim grocery store, walking past a bunch of widely, randomly spaced displays (like some kind of farmer-style produce section) and toward a refrigerator full of drinks. H sat at a small table near the fridge.

      I wanted to grab a drink, pay for it, and tip the person who gave me the drink. I knew I could tip the person by leaving the tip (a few quarters) in the slot from which Ib had grabbed the drink. But there was some creepy grocery store worker kid who looked like he was just waiting for me to leave the tip so he could steal it.

      I asked H what I should do. She told me just to put the money in the slot, and that it would wash away to the person. I looked at the slot. There were little holes through which jets of water flowed. I saw that the coins would be pushed through the holes and to the person, who apparently worked behind the refrigerator.

      I was now in a nice room, like a nice hotel. There were a lot of Mexican boys and girls. They all had suitcases. They tumbled about and had fun. Then they lined up by the door. I lined up behind a few of them. I understood that we were all heading toward some bus or flight.

      Dream #4

      I was sitting at a school-cafeteria-style table with an older woman who kind of reminded me of my grandma, except that she was blonde and a tiny bit overweight.

      I was discussing a number of things with her. At one point I had an image in my head of a lot of stainless steel boxes, like heavy safes. Some of the boxes were for data memory. Other boxes were like small servers. Other boxes were just boxes for holding the other things in. I saw some kind of advertisement lettering somewhere on the image that said something like 275 MB or 275 MW.

      The woman now explained to me that for my report (?) I should contact a man she knew in Vegas. He'd become an expert in probabilities. As the woman told me this I could see a hand holding clear green dice with white dots. The woman told me that the man was a slightly shady character, but that that had to be expected after the tough times he'd had to live through. And, besides, sometimes you had to get to know the shady characters if you wanted to get good, new information.

      The woman then also told me to contact another person she knew, a scientist with a lot of knowledge about (something I forgot!). I had an image in my head of a man in a white robe, with a long, white beard and long, white hair.

      Some other people had now also come and were getting in the way of the woman. I was saying goodbye to her. I was talking to her from over a tall, wooden railing. We may have shaken hands as she explained something else to me about my report.
    10. checking the ice ; getting "wenclets"; little girl shopping

      by , 01-14-2011 at 01:22 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was out in a field which was a part of someone's property. I was walking on top of a huge drift of snow. The snow was hard enough to walk on the surface. The sky overhead was a heavy, pale grey.

      I told myself I was checking the ice in this area for something in particular. I came upon a patch of ice revealed beneath some snow. I walked out onto it. I told myself that if I were able to walk on the ice, the ice would be stable enough so that there would be no worry for the field.

      I saw a small puddle of water just beyond the ice. I stepped into it. It was only ankle deep at first. But it soon got so deep that my whole body plunged in. I thought this might mean trouble for the field. But then I figured it probably wouldn't. The puddle was deep, but it was still small.

      I started worrying about myself. I had fallen into this freezing water and I needed to get out. I looked around for a way out. But the body of water was now as big as a lake.

      I was now out of the lake and on some kind of long, covered walkway of red flagstone. The walkway went around some kind of big desert mansion. Some of my old friends were there. They were all getting ready to go somewhere else. I saw them walk up a staircase at one end of the walkway. Somewhere there may have been snow-covered cacti.

      Dream #2

      I was in an apartment that wasn't mine. I may have been watching the apartment for somebody. The apartment was small, but comfortable. It was on a higher floor. Light came inside, filtered through the greens and yellows of tree leafs.

      I was sneaking past the apartment windows. I needed to go out my window and into someone else's to get something. But I couldn't let anybody know I was doing it. There was a lot of activity outside. The landlords (a man and woman who had actually been landlords of an old building I lived in) were climbing up and down ladders, helping some invalid lady get back into her apartment. The invalid lady was actually sitting in a full bathtub which was perched atop a swinging, crane-like ladder.

      Everybody had gotten the invalid woman (who was a woman from an old neighborhood I lived in) into her house. They were all going away. I realized now that I needed to get the stuff from the invalid woman's apartment.

      I looked out the window and saw my mom sitting in a tub similar to the one the woman had been sitting in. I knew my mom was going to take care of the invalid woman. I called to my mom to get the stuff I needed from the invalid woman's apartment. My aunt has asked for it, I told her.

      My mom got upset and yelled at me that she wasn't going to get anything, and that my aunt was just being selfish. I came to understand that the stuff in question were these small, white, pebble-type things. They were used as a kind of fuel for a special waterbed that acted as a kind of room service. I understood that my aunt had run out of her white rocks and that she now felt she should be able to get the rocks from anybody else's supply if she wanted.

      Now that I understood what was going on, I wasn't so interested in getting the rocks for my aunt. I was now by myself in the invalid woman's kitchen. The white rocks were on the old woman's table, in a purple-pink container that looked like, and may even have said, Raid bug spray. The container was squarish and may have had two nozzles or spouts.

      I read, somewhere, about the room-service waterbed. The waterbed could always make coffee and tea, with no fuel. But for anything other than coffee and tea, white rocks were needed. (I seemed to be reading this off a brown, plastic plate which may have served as kind of a caution sign on the side of a waterbed.) With enough white rocks, however, the waterbed could bring you just about anything you wanted.

      I was in a coffee shop like a Starbucks. The store was long, and the back half, where I was, was almost empty. It was dim. I was heading for a line to get some coffee when I realized there was a vending machine to my right. It sold silver canisters full of the white rocks. The canisters looked like a mix between stainless steel thermoses and popcorn poppers. I figured I'd pick one up and pay for it at the register for my aunt.

      But now, in a vending to the right of the rock machine, I saw a lot of plastic bubbles full of what looked like candy hearts. But somewhere among those bubbles there was a slip of paper talking about the rocks. It said the white rocks (called "wenclets") and the room-service waterbed were as bad as drugs, and that they had destroyed the lives of teenagers.

      I looked away from both vending machines. I figured I'd just go get my coffee. But now I saw, through a glass door at the back end of the coffee shop (leading into a mall?) a big, black man staring at me. I knew he'd seen me looking at the wenclets and candyy hearts. I thought he'd think of me now as either a drug dealer or a narc. I turned away from the man, toward the line and the front of the store. But I was suddenly afraid.

      Dream #3

      I was looking at an internet site that advertised little girls. The site sold the little girls, basically as life-long love slaves. All the girls were pretty, and the photos showed them out having fun on playgrounds and in nature.

      I was now going to have a meal with my friend H. It turned out that she had either bought or was in the process of buying a couple of these girls for herself.
    11. Mustache, jewelry maker, movie confusion

      by , 11-12-2010 at 01:20 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was a young, white boy, maybe in high school. I had a mustache, and, instead of shaving it off I would try to trim it down to size. But each time I thought I had it right, I would somehow, while going about my usual business, realize I had a few really long hairs in my mustache.

      At one point, possibly while in school, talking with a male classmate, I suddenly realized I had a few long hairs in my mustache. In panic, I ran down a long hallway to a bathroom to get the hairs off my face.

      I looked at myself in the mirror. I was short, skinny, with fair skin, and greenish eyes. I had shaggy, red-brown hair, and I wore a blue sweater.

      I put my face really close to the mirror. I noticed that my "mustache" was just a few stray hairs above my lip, some of which were very long. I trimmed some of the long hairs. But I thought, in a panic, that this still wasn't enough. Why didn't I shave my mustache off altogether?

      Dream #2

      I walked away from talking with a male friend of mine. I walked through a city street of cobblestones and nice, old buildings about four or five stories high. It was daytime, clear, and sunny. The streets were almost completely empty.

      Looking back over my right shoulder, I saw a young, black man in casual clothes walking down the street. I must have looked forward again. I may have been looking for one of my friends, as if I were meeting him somewhere.

      I looked behind my right shoulder again. I saw a black man, maybe 10 or so years older than I, walk into what looked like a bar on the corner of the street. The man looked like one of my old friends, M. I hadn't seen him in such a long time, and he is such a great person. So I thought I'd run after him and say hi.

      The place was a cafe rather than a bar. It was kind of narrow, and crowded with people. But it was full of a warm cheerfulness, as if everybody were happy to be out of the cold (even though I don't remember it having been very cold outside). The light was warm but and pale, as if the walls were painted a pale yellow.

      I saw the man. But as I got closer and closer, he looked less and less like my old friend. Nevertheless, I still patted his shoulder to get his attention. I was about to say, "Hey, M!" But now I saw for sure that it was not M. I said, "Oh --sorry."

      I was about to walk away, possibly toward a table. But the man stopped me. He asked me, "Did you want to say something? Why did you need to get my attention?"

      I didn't want to tell the man I'd thought he was my old friend M. I thought that would make me look like an ignorant jerk.

      I looked a little more at the man. He had dark skin, a round face, a little bit of grey and black stubble, and short dreads. He wore a pale blue and white striped button up shirt, dark, cuffed blue jeans, and sandals. He also wore a weird, metallic necklace with a huge dragon with open wings.

      I thought I'd tell the man I thought his necklace was cool. But I didn't say anything.

      The man told me that he made jewelry. He showed me a pair of silver earrings that looked really cool. The man then explained that he sold jewelry at this cafe, and that he came by every now and then to check on his sales.

      The man walked me over to a wooden counter atop which were a few rotating displays of the man's earrings. The earrings were mainly long, narrow, and silver, with stones set into the ends or in the middles. I may have seen the man's name or the earring line's design name. The name started with "Bh."

      Dream #3

      I was in a big movie theatre. The theatre was dim and mostly empty. The theatre seemed huge, much larger than a normal theatre. The screen was high up on the wall. I sat in the front row.

      I was here to see a Frederick Wiseman documentary, but I couldn't remember which one. I thought it had to do with kids in a tough situation.

      A film now appeared on the screen (though, somehow, the screen appeared partly blocked by a tall potted plant or some pipes or wires or something).

      The screen showed two boys, maybe about 8 and 10 years old. They were sitting in one of the front rows of the balcony of a theatre. The older boy was sharing popcorn with the younger boy, who wore huge glasses. The younger boy leaned his head against the older boy's shoulder.

      Some young boy, about the age of the boys on screen, called from behind me, "Oh, Wiseman does this kind of thing all the time." I agreed with the boy's critique, although I didn't think it was a bad thing, just characteristic of Wiseman's style.

      I wondered what the heck this documentary was about. I wondered if it was in fact a preview for the documentary I had actually come to see. I had come to see a film about kids in a tough situation. But here were these kids in a theatre. I thought that maybe the kids were in some kind of acting school for kids in a tough situation. But these kids looked like they were from a comfortable, if not rich, family.

      I realized this documentary was about some kind of elite acting school. The second scene showed the parents as they were dropping their students off at the school. The parents all sat in a fluorescent-lit room. The room of folding-chairs was about half- occupied with parents.

      The camera panned from the left to the right of the room, from the front, almost as if behind a pane of glass, as if from another room. But you could see (from what I could see behind the stuff partly blocking the screen) that a lot of these parents were themselves celebrities.

      At one point, Shelley Duvall, in an Annie Hall like suit, was complaining about the way one of her kids was being treated at the school. Everybody in the audience (my audience) laughed at Shelley Duvall's speech, as if her ideas and mannerisms were so characteristic of her.