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    1. girl's presentation

      by , 01-16-2012 at 02:27 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a classroom. I sat in a desk one or two rows back from the front and a little toward the left of the classroom. The classroom door was on the left side of the wall that the desks faced. The light of the classroom was a greenish fluorescent.

      The classroom was probably full of people. Everybody may have seemed about my age. But the class felt almost like a high school class.

      I sat twisted in my desk, the left side of my head propped up by my left hand. I was watching a woman or girl give a speech about something. The woman was giving the speech while seated at her desk.

      I knew that the woman's speech wasn't popular. She had expressly decided to say something she knew other people wouldn't like. Plus, her speech may have been boring.

      I was taking a little bit of a secret pleasure in knowing that the woman's speech was not well-received. She may have acted arrogant toward me in the past. So now I was happy to see people treating her indifferently.

      Somehow (maybe because of a bell?) the people all knew that the class period was over. They all got up and left the class, even though the woman was still giving her speech. The woman continued, seeming only a little put-off by being ignored by everybody.

      I now felt bad for the woman. I didn't think everybody would be so indifferent toward her. I thought she must feel horrible. So I listened harder to what she was saying, as if I were really interested in it.

      At some point, the speech was done. The woman was still seated in her desk. There were a couple other people in the room. One of them was some male friend of mine. He seemed a little bit older and classier than I.

      My friend made some criticism of the woman's speech while walking about on the left side of the classroom. He then addressed me as he walked out of the classroom.

      I understood the criticism the man had given the woman, though he'd addressed it to me. I tried to respond by adding onto the criticism in some witty way, and by using an accent. I may have been trying to sound French. But my attempt was horrible.

      My friend, standing just outside the classroom, told me, in a half-distracted way, that my accent was horrible. I stood up and walked out of the classroom. I told the man that I agreed with him. I told him I thought I sounded like --.

      But I couldn't remember the name of the person I was thinking about. She was a cartoon character, from the Bullwinkle show. I might have kept saying "Badenov, Badenov," because I remembered she was Boris Badenov's partner in crime. But I couldn't remember the character's first name.

      (Of course, it's Natasha.)

      Updated 01-16-2012 at 02:36 PM by 37466 (Changed "I sat twisted to the left" to "I sat twisted.")

    2. stolen chairs

      by , 10-25-2011 at 02:19 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a room like a preschool classroom, although the room was supposed to be an office. The room was dark, except for the glow of a TV, which I was sitting on the floor and watching, (though my view seems to have been from slightly outside my body). The room seemed pretty empty -- no desks or tables; just chairs and short bookcases lining the walls.

      Someone came into the room and pulled one of the chairs out of the room. The person was all in shadow, but he seemed to me to have been a young, male office worker. The chair he pulled out was an office- style swivel-chair. All the chairs in the room may have been like that.

      I knew the guy wasn't supposed to take the chairs. And I knew he knew it. He basically just wanted to steal. But I was too afraid to stand up to him and stop him.

      Now I was in the room with "my co-workers." The lights were on in the room, and there were desks in the room. But there weren't enough chairs for all the desks. In fact, there were hardly any chairs at all.

      The boss (I think) said, "Someone from another office has been stealing our chairs! How the hell are we all gonna sit down?"

      I knew who stole at least one of our chairs. But I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to betray that I'd been too afraid to stand up to the guy.

      So now I and another guy were going out looking for chairs. The boss had told us, I "knew," that we should go to all the rooms in this building. And room that looked like it had way more chairs than it needed had obviously been stealing chairs from us. So we were to "take the chairs back" out of that room and to our room.

      The man and I wandered through the hallways, which were kind of narrow, short, and grey. We went into some smaller rooms, which were apparently multi-office rooms or single offices. Some of them looked like classrooms.

      Then we ended up in a pretty big conference room. The room was dark, with our only light coming in through the hallway. The room was empty, with just a few school desks and chairs here and there, overturned, not in any real order. But it looked like there weren't more chairs than desks, so we couldn't take chairs from this room.

      But being in the conference room made me think. If the man searching with me thought we should be looking in conference rooms for chairs, then we should probably be looking in the conference room closest to our office. Something about the way the guy had stolen the chair had made me think he wouldn't go far with it.

      In my excitement at thinking I knew where we should go, I gasped a bit and lifted my left arm up, almost like I was raising my hand to ask a question in class. I then put my hand to my lips. I said, "We should go to the..."

      But I had to strain to remember the name of the conference room. Finally I got it. I said, "We should go to the Goshen Room!"

      The man said, "That's right! I was just about to say the same thing!"

      We were now in the Goshen Room. There were chairs all over the place, as well as school desks. Everything was overturned and disordered. But it seemed pretty obvious that there were too many chairs in here.

      The man spoke to me (although I seemed to be seeing from his viewpoint) as if we were looking at a grisly murder scene. He said, "Go. Get the others from the office. We need to gather the chairs quick. These people will be back soon."

      The man himself now seemed to have been heading for the door, to get the other people from the office. I was deeper in the room, looking at the chairs. The swivel-chairs' seats had been completely unscrewed from their bases, kind of like a bolt screwing into a hole, or a bottle cap screwing onto a plastic bottle top.

      I stood staring at a few swivel chair bases. I figured we'd all have to carry this stuff back to our office in awkward armfuls, then screw everything back together there. I wondered if we'd be able to get everything of ours back to the office, and if we'd be able to put it all back together.
    3. 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.
    4. was i rude?; subway mall

      by , 05-18-2011 at 11:40 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was possibly in a classroom. All the desks were arranged in a circle. The room was lit with kind of dull, greenish, fluorescent light. The class or meeting had ended, and everybody was headed out of the room. The room was empty as I left it.

      There was a boy somewhere behind me. He was blonde, well-groomed, with a kind of effeminate bearing and voice. He had said something in class, and now he asked me, "Was I rude when I said that?"

      I wanted to say yes, but I thought that would be wrong. So I said, "Well, you work so hard that nobody would think you were just plain rude. But people might think you were defensive."

      Dream #2

      I was walking along a sidewalk in a residential part of town. It was a sunny day, but there was snow on the ground. The snow had been cleared from the sidewalks and streets, but it was still piled up around the curbs and the grassy areas between the sidewalks and curbs. The snow piles were all wet and slushy from the sun.

      I was apparently heading to a dance class (?). But, as I crossed a street and then walked past a glass-walled bus stop, I felt a bad headache and decided not to go to class. The headache was like a hard, concrete-like feeling in the back of my head. My eyes also felt sunken in, and I had a real drop in energy.

      But I also felt like if I didn't go to dance class I would teach my teachers and classmates a lesson, as if they had done something to insult me and now I was paying them back.

      I was apparently walking a few blocks, up a mild slope, to a train stop, possibly for one of the red trains, maybe the 2-train. I walked past either a college campus with red brick buikdings or a block of very nice, red-brick houses. There were tall trees shading the sidewalks.

      A couple of tall, young, beautiful people were walking close behind me. The neighborhood may actually have been moderately busy with people overall. The people were joking about something they had done to a friend or colleague of theirs. They had taken something of his. When he got upset about it, they wondered why he could be so sensitive.

      I passed another (or the same?) glass-walled bus stop. I now had in my left hand two bags from fast food restaurants. The first bag was from Dunkin' Donuts. It was a coffee. The second bag was from somewhere else. It was food, maybe even a donut.

      I was getting close to the subway station. But suddenly I was in a vehicle like a big minivan. I was in the van with a few other people who acted or looked like subway passengers. The van was driving down concrete ramps that looked somewhat like ramps connecting different platforms in a subway station.

      We kept going down. The area we were driving through looked like a mix between a subway station and a mall. There were stores like department stores and drug stores all through the corridors.

      A big, muscular, kind of pale, white man who looked like a soldier sat somewhere across from me. But he also seemed, at times, to be driving this vehicle.

      He told me and a couple other passengers, "When I'm driving a train, and they tell me we have to be delayed, I let everybody know exactly what's going on. I tell them, we'll be here for 28 minutes, and I countdown, and so on. That way people know.

      "Some people like to keep passengers in the dark about what's going on. I think dispatch does, too! But I don't. When people don't know what's going on, they feel like the train will never start running again."

      The man stopped the vehicle. We were really deep down by now. I saw the subway train off to the left. The front of it had a side door, like for a semi truck, which was swung open. I understood that the man was going to conduct the train.

      I jumped out the left side of the van, but I landed outside on the right side of the van. For some reason I was worried about whether I had jumped out fast enough. I thought if I was too slow, the soldier would be impatient with me.

      The area down here was also like a mall, and there were a lot of people lounging around like they would in a mall. I saw two big drugstore-like stores, one of which may possibly have been a bookstore. I thought that I might need to go to the store before I got on the train.
    5. SAT grave; punch in the face; little white animal

      by , 03-28-2011 at 11:42 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I walked up something like a wooden ramp or a wooden deck that was in front of some kind of run-down beach house or shack made of wood. I may have been in a line with people.

      I was now in a classroom. The desks in the classroom seemed all crammed together. We were all preparing for some kind of test like the SATs. I looked up from my study material and saw JW, my old friend from high school, studying for the test.

      I made some kind of weird comment in a weird voice that I thought would remind him of our high school days. JW recognized me, but he only ackowledged me briefly and reluctantly. I was a little hurt.

      Some voice called from behind me. I turned around. Another friend of mine, who I didn't recognize, was trying to get my attention. This guy was from some more recent time in my life. He may have been overweight, with tan skin, black hair in a ponytail, a goatee, and glasses. I was kind of put out that JW wouldn't talk to me, while this guy would.

      Now the test was about to begin. The teacher was doing something. I made some kind of immature joke. The class' and teacher's attention were drawn to me. The teacher may have asked me something. I may have responded with a dumb answer that was a smart alecky way of saying I didn't know anything.

      The teacher said, "What a disappointment. I thought you were one of the bright ones. I was looking for someone to give a presentation on how to take this test. I thought it was going to be you. But I guess not, now."

      Apparently, we all had to go somewhere else to take the test. We were all walking through some area.

      Later, I think I had decided not to take the test after all. I was somewhere that was half outside and half inside. I stood on some barren soil. A pit as long as my body and a few feet deep was dug into the soil. I sat down into the pit. I began pulling the dirt down onto myself.

      I buried my legs pretty quickly. I started to wonder if I would suffocate if I managed to pull dirt all over my body, which was, I think, my objective. I may have gotten afraid. I may have pulled myself up out of the pit. As I looked down at the soil, the soil may have seemed disgusting to me, like it was feces.

      Dream #2

      I was in a high school, walking down the steps of a stairwell. A white kid kind of dressed like a gangster came up the steps and punched me in the face. I dropped my books. The kid kept attacking me, but I tried to ignore him. I picked up my books and walked the rest of the way down the stairs.

      I got around a corner, into some place like a classroom. For some reason I looked back out around the corner, into the stairwell. The kid punched me in the face again!

      Dream #3

      I was in my bedroom. A strange, white animal was crawling across the floor. It was moving somewhat quickly. I thought it might be a mouse. But it had such a strange look, like a slug.

      I was interested in the animal, but I didn't want it in my house. It seemed to be heading out the door of its own accord. I watched it as it approached the door. But just before it got to the door it turned back around.

      I now got on the floor and tried to scare the animal away. But I only seemed to make it curious about me. It came closer, so I figured I might as well try to learn what kind of animal it was. It turned out to be very much like a white mouse with grey ears. But something about it still looked not quite right. I wondered if I actually wasn't looking at a baby rat.
    6. skinny roach; marx on art and love

      by , 12-18-2010 at 04:47 PM
      Good morning, everybody. I slept 11 hours last night. I think I'm finally over my freaking cold. And ready for a new one to get me, I guess. Ugh...

      Dream #1

      I was in "my bedroom," which was a lot like my waking-life bedroom, except that it had, I think, green walls and really dusty floors. The light in the room was dim, as if some faint light were coming from some other room.

      I saw a very skinny roach, about 5cm long, crawl across my floor. It looked all shrivelled up and dry, blackish-grey, not like a "healthy" (eww...) roach at all.

      I began to aim for the roach, to kill it. But it darted away. I looked for it and found it again, in an extremely dusty spot between some boxes and a wall. But it got away again.

      I had some toilet paper in my hand now. Apparently I was going to smash the roach with toilet paper. I found the roach again. This time it was climbing up a wall.

      But I wasn't exactly sure that I was seeing it. I kept squinting and slowly walking closer and closer, to make sure that what I was seeing was actually the roach.

      Dream #2

      I was sitting in a desk near the front of a classroom. The classroom was lit with a dim, grey light. I sat near the right wall, facing the left wall. Most of the rest of the class was facing the front wall. The room was packed with students.

      Everybody was quiet and listening to the teacher. The teacher was a tall, thin, white man, slightly balding, with grey-white hair, and squarish eyeglasses.

      The teacher was giving some sort of lecture which may have been on film or some kind of performing art. But I wasn't paying attention. I had a big, fat book in front of me. I was huddled over it, elbows on my desktop, "taking notes" (I.e. scribbling) in the margins.

      The teacher lifted the book off my desk and presented it to the rest of the class. I saw that the title of the book was "An Essay on Art and Love," and that it was by Karl Marx. The cover of the book was like a deep blue sky full of stars, with some kind of drawing in a circle in the center of the cover.

      The teacher said, "Now, you see, (he said my name) is actually reading a book! Which shows he's paying attention in class! Everybody else needs to pay attention, too."

      (I obviously, however, had not been paying attention in class. I don't even remember what the teacher was talking about.)

      The teacher had now stopped his lecture and was apparently walking around, checking on how the students were doing. I went back to doing my own thing, a little embarrassed and upset that undue "good attention" to me had been paraded before the class.

      The teacher now addressed a young, white man with fair skin and long, brown hair. The boy wore a black, wool cap and a baggy, black t-shirt with some kind of punky, black-and-white photo-print on it. The kid was slouched in his desk as the teacher addressed him.

      The teacher said, "(The kid's name, which was the same as my name), I really hope you can learn, sooner or later, to stop making smart aleck comments in class whenever I say something you disagree with. It makes the whole class laugh at me and take your side."

      I thought that was an odd argument for the teacher to make against the young man. I actually thought the kid was pretty funny, even though he was kind of distracting.

      (Note: I seriously don't think Marx wrote anything about Art and Love. That would seriously cramp Marx' style.

      I think this book is a mish-mash of my own thoughts. I've lately been reading the porn-philosophy book Juilette by the Marquis de Sade. A lot of people say the book is just porn and justification for doing all kinds of wacky things.

      Reading the book, I kind of disagree, and I've lately thought to myself that the book could be read side-by-side with Karl Marx' Capital and Leo Tolstoy's The Kingdom of God Is within You. They all three address something about the bipolarity of society.

      So my dream life decided, apparently, to take that mish-mash and run with it. And now Marx is a romantic artist somehow... Okay...)