maboroshi

Good morning, everybody. The first two dreams had a kind of half-dream feel to them. I don't think I was all the way asleep.

Dream #1

I was in bed, lying on my stomach. I saw my phone, even though I may not have held it in my hands. I continued reading the book I had gone to bed reading, Psi Spies, by Jim Marrs. The section of the book was about Ingo Swann. A lot of the stuff sounded familiar, like stuff I'd previously read about Swann. But the language was really weird at points, almost absurd.

Dream #2

I was reading from my phone again. I was somewhat aware of the dream-like quality of my experience. I kind of found it funny that I was reading a book that was less than a foot away from my head by whatever kind of complicated psychic means I was using. I thought I my check the text I was reading now against the text of the book when I "woke up," although I knew it probably wouldn't match. Some of the language was just too absurd.

Dream #3

Possibly a black and white film view from a train window of a landscape and some kind of factory building. A narrator spoke about how Frederick Wiseman was the predecessor of A.A. Milne. The narrator said that even though Wiseman was a pioneer, he still didn't have the courage to say everything he wanted to say. A.A. Milne took Wiseman's statements and carried them forward with their full meaning.

I may have caught the absurdity of this in my dream. Milne wrote his children's books a while before Wiseman started making his controversial documentaries. Nevertheless, I was kind of sad to hear the narrator's words, as if they were true after all, and I had missed the basic fact.

Dream #4

I "came into work" (I may only have had a vision of doing so). My computer screen was on, and open to a database that holds our reports. The screen was open to a report I had written yesterday.

Somehow I came to understand that my boss had -- again! -- completely ignored the report I'd written and made a completely different report all his own.

Dream #5

I was in a grocery store, before something like the conveyor belt checkout stand. But this checkout stand was all the way in a back corner of the store, like in the packaged beef and lunchmeat area.

I was with my mom, one or two young, black men, and a young, black woman. The cashier was an old lady. The cashier kept pulling stuff out from her side of the checkout stand and throwing it onto the conveyor belt. All of us then had to bag it up.

At some point the woman was throwing unpackaged diapers onto the conveyor belt. I had a huge, opened, empty diaper package. I sat on the ground with the bag between my legs and loaded all the diapers into the bag. The filled bag may have come up to about mid-thigh on me.

At another point the old lady herself had filled a paper bag so full with canned goods that it fell over and spilled all over the conveyor belt. The woman looked terribly annoyed. I felt ashamed. Had we really bought all this stuff? Wasn't it too much?

The old lady said, "Look, I don't have any more paper bags. We can only do plastic now." I understood this to mean that the old lady was finally getting tired of dealing with all the food we had apparently bought.

I thought we should all make things as easy on her as possible by packing everything up as quickly as possible. The two black men seemed a little reluctant to speed up, possibly because they didn't believe they could really put all the food away -- as if there weren't enough bags, or as if all the bags would break.

I told the young men, as if this would solve all their problems, "Look, it's easy. When you get diapers, put them into one of these big diaper bags. Open in all the way up, and it'll hold a lot. Trust me: I just did it."

The young men acted like that made sense. The young woman looked at me with pity, as if she knew that the young men thought I was kind of crazy.