maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in the living room of a really nice apartment, sitting on the couch with a really pretty Indian woman. The couch and floor may have been white. There was an entertainment center just across the floor from the couch.

The woman was showing me something on the screen. The screen was black, but divided into sections by white lines. There may have been six sections. In each section were a few letters and numbers. The screen would occasionally pull down.

The woman was showing me this, but I was actually controlling it, using either a keyboard or a joystick. I realized this was some sort of data processing system that was connected to a company's database. People could work from home, from their TVs, by entering data for this database.

As the woman stood up and walked toward the dining room, off to our left, I told the woman, "I always thought this would be a good idea."

The dining room was gone. A window was in its place. And it was like I was in a house rather than an apartment. The woman was just outside the window. I stood up and walked to the window.

I continued, "In fact, I've always thought working from home would be the way a lot of people worked, eventually. I was thinking of writing a science fiction story about it, where everybody works from home, on their computers."

The woman stood out in an area full of trees. She may have kept moving farther and farther back -- without walking, until she had disappeared in the trees altogether. But I was still talking to her.

I continued, "Everything -- the world, gets greener again. The population rate goes down. But people are happier. So many things are controlled by robots. And a lot of people work from home."

Now I was looking out the window to a normal suburban front yard. Two of my old friends, M (a man) and P (a woman) walked up to the window, which was maybe a meter or so higher than their heads.

M told me he and P were going somewhere. When they were done they'd come back and pick me up to take me to the airport so I could go back home. I was a little panicked. I said that my flight was probably leaving pretty soon. I needed to get to the airport.

M told me not to worry. Besides, M told me, I had some task to take care of, possibly involving a car, and that I wouldn't be able to leave until I took care of that, anyway. M asked me for the car keys so he and P could leave. I gave them to him.

M and P were gone. I walked out of this house through a door opposite the window. I walked through another yard that looked like a front yard and up into the front door of another house. This was my mom's house.

My mom was just inside, sitting at a table in front of the front window. When she saw me she stood up and started walking through the living room. There was a couch set right in the center of the living room. My mom started telling me something. But I can't remember what it was.

Dream #2

I was in a bedroom. The room was dim and blue. I had been listening to some conference call and taking handwritten notes on notebook paper. I may have been at a desk. But now the call was over.

I heared a kind of squeaky-raspy voice from another room. I had been looking off to my left. But now I looked over to my right, to the door of the bedroom. A beige-orange light came from under the crack of the door.

The voice said a few things. Then the person got up, apparently from a room behind me, and left, walking away down the hallway that was just outside the door. I now realized I was sitting on the floor, using a bed as a desk.

I understood that I had left my job. This was the office for my job. For some reason I was back -- maybe just to help out on a short-term project, maybe just for one day.

The guy the squeaky voice had been the guy who'd replaced me. It was 5 PM, and the guy was leaving. This, I thought, was kind of lazy, since there was still a ton of work to do. I thought that maybe I'd impress my boss by staying for a long time tonight.

But, right while I was lost in this thought, my boss burst in the door. I must have looked like I was just doing nothing. My boss rushed up to my bed-desk and began flipping through my notebooks.

I knew I had just taken notes on some conference call. I wanted my boss to see the notes. But now he wasn't finding them. Instead he flipped to a page I'd made of sketches of the famous cartoon character Strongbad.

My boss pointed to one of the drawings and said, "I want to see less of this," as if he thought all I did all day was draw sketches of strongbad. He actually even flipped to another page that was also full of Strongbad sketches!

I was trying to figure out how I could explain this to my boss. I did a lot of work. But sometimes, while I was listening to calls or trying to think through a problem, I'd start sketching.

Dream #3

I was pulling a car I had (when I was in high school!) out of a long driveway for a house set up at the end of a long, gated yard. When I got to the end of the driveway, I had to close the gate. I pulled off to the side of the road and got out of the car. I was also thinking something about the difficulty of driving backward.

When I got out of the car, my sister was there. She told me, "Don't forget, while you're taking care of the car, to wash the back windows. That's really important, and C (one of my old friends) did it all the time."

I told my sister, "I was just planning on doing that once I got home." Apparently I was planning on taking my car back home after visiting my family -- although I was also planning on taking a plane home.

I was now in the living room of a house with my mom, grandpa, and probably some of the other members of my immediate family. My grandpa and mom were standing. My grandpa was getting ready to leave.

I was going back to my car as well. My grandpa was going to drive me. So we left the house together.

It was dark outside. My mom stood in the doorway. We were in a long block full of houses, possibly with some kind of median in the center of the wide road. My grandpa's car was parked halfway up on and off of this median.

My grandpa and I got in the car. My door was still open, and I was holding on to some kind of hard door-strap, as if I were going to pull the door shut.

My grandpa said, "I didn't invite you guys to my house because I didn't know what schemes your mom might have. She could sue me because on of the kids suffocated themselves on the floor or one of the kids suffocated themselves on the ceiling."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was coming up toward a house. It seemed like something bad must have happened there. I came up to a black iron fence surrounding the house. It was only a few meters away from the door.

Just inside the gate, on some kind of stone walkway up to the front door, were the remains of a squirrel that had been killed. I thought the squirrel had been killed by a human. The squirrel had probably been beheaded and then sliced up the middle, on its underside, like a fish being gutted.

Just in front of the door was a mailbox. The mailbox either stood alone or stood out against the wall. The mailbox itself was really thick and wide.

On top of the mailbox were parts of the killed squirrel. It was probably the squirrel's head, but the head seemed really skinny, and it seemed to be attached to a long, bony thing, covered in fur, and which I thought of as an arm.

I was a little scared by the sight, as if the squirrel pieces meant that some bad scene of carnage was inside, maybe even a human murder scene. But I also thought that perhaps the scene of carnage was what I was here for -- what I was here to see.

I went into the house. The door was a side door, and it opened directly into a side hallway of the house. The floor of the hallway was made of white linoleum tile. I passed a couple rooms that seemed half-finished, kind of like laundry rooms. The hallway was shaped like an upside-down "L," with the base of the "L" turning off to my right.

At the intersection there was a huge pile of crap. The pile itself was huge, but the pieces of crap themselves were enormous. I thought that only an animal would crap on the floor like this. But the crap looked too huge for any domestic animal to make. So I thought maybe a human -- a big human -- crapped on the floor.

I walked into the living room and saw a smaller pile of crap on the pale beige carpet. But the pieces of crap were still so huge that I thought only a human could have made them. I walked around a coffee table and stood in between the coffee table and a couch. An old, clunky TV stood on a TV stand off to my left.

Suddenly a big, black poodle (!) jumped at me, to attack me. It got good height as it jumped over the coffee table, and it would have bitten me in the face. But I slapped it away, knocking it to the carpet, in between the coffee table and the TV stand.

The poodle was no longer vicious. It was like it was my friend, or my own dog. I considered that this dog may have made all the crap that was all over the floor. The dog was huge, especially for a poodle, and it had a kind of fat body. So maybe it could have made huge pieces of crap.

I tapped the dog sharply on its flank with some kind of stick -- maybe a dried, tan bamboo stick? I said, "Turn around!" I wanted to get a look at the dog's anus. If the dog's anus had crap all over it, I'd know that the dog had crapped all over the house.

The dog turned around. I noticed that a lot of the fur all over the dog's body was grey as well as black, as if the dog were getting older.

I spent a couple seconds looking at the dog's anus. It was completely naked, barren of fur, so I saw it alright. It looked totally clean, and pretty small. I thought there was no way the dog could have crapped all over the floor. It's anus was too clean -- and too small. So I still didn't know what -- or who -- had crapped all over the house.

Dream #2

I was possibly watching some sort of television show. There were three Vietnamese or Vietnamese-American children. They stood in some strange, half-indoor, half-outdoor area.

The space felt like a living room somehow, but it also felt like the corridors of some kind of shopping area in a big, Asian city. There was a lot of warm, orange, red, and pink light glowing into the atmosphere.

The children themselves stood behind some kind of wooden bars, like the bars of a nice crib or playpen for babies. The bars met a carpet floor, which stood up on a tiny step, maybe 20cm high. The floor before the step was possibly also carpeted.

The children were a musical group. They had won some kind of singing contest on a Vietnamese talent program. They now had to go to some further kind of televised championship.

But the children were all worried, and they called out, "No! Wait! We can't do it yet!" It was like they'd forgotten their song, or gotten stage fright. They felt like if they went to the championship (which may have only been down the hall) at this moment, they'd screw up their luck and totally ruin their chances.

I was half in the scene and half watching the scene on TV. I wanted to tell the kids that there was no need to worry, that plenty of groups had felt the same way before they'd gone on to their championship performance, but that they'd done just fine.

In fact, I could remember one specific group that was actually Vietnamese as well and had gone through the same emotional difficulties as the children were going through right now. But I couldn't remember the group's name. I tried really hard, but I couldn't remember.

I was now in a big room with my mom. The room was like a living room, but the floor was white, linoleum tile, like in a kitchen. The light was bright and white. The room was huge, and there was barely anything in it except a couch, a TV stand, a TV, and some random clutter, like blankets, so that the place felt very barren.

My mom stood in front of the TV, messing around with something, like she was trying to run a tape in a VCR. I told my mom, "You tell those kids there's nothing to worry about. I know another Vietnamese girl that had the same kind of worries. But she ended up winning. She actually had a great song. I'll show it to you."

I couldn't remember the Vietnamese singer's name. But I pulled my phone out of my pocket, as if I could find her on YouTube and show her to my mom. I thought that, if I just looked for the singer in some random way, I'd probably find her. I could remember the singer's song, and the video, which had a lot of pink, orange, and red atmosphere.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a dark bedroom. The door was open a crack, and there was also a slim window running along the right (my right) side of the door. The door and window opened out to a hallway full of fluorescent light. It was like I was in a dorm room. There was a bed against the wall to the right of the door.

There seemed to be somebody walking out in the hallway. He didn't seem to trust me, or else he didn't seem to like the fact that I was around. I myself didn't quite feel like I belonged here. I may have been hoping I could get out of here soon.

I was pacing back and forth in the bedroom. I paced toward the door and turned around. I was about to start walking away from the door when the man somehow got a hold of me. He either told me or handed me a note saying that I needed to paint a bench.

I knew what bench the man had been talking about. I realized I had forgotten to paint it. This was somehow a relief to me. I felt like now I had a task I had to take care of, I really had a reason to stay here. Before, I realized, I had been almost arrogantly insisting that I didn't have to be here, as if I was better than this place. But now that I had a task, I could focus on the task and keep a humble outlook on where I deserved to be.

I was in a living room with a few other people, some of whom may have been my family members. The living room also felt a little like an artist's studio or workshop. The floor were concrete and paint-spattered. The walls were bare white plaster. The light was a very harsh, raspy incandescent. There seemed to be a TV blaring somewhere. And everybody either seemed to be busy or distracted.

I knelt down to a wooden bench about knee-high and maybe three meters long. The bench had been painted white. But either the paint had started chipping off or else the paint job I had given the bench had been so bad that I'd missed patches of the bench altogether. So I needed to fill in the unpainted patches with white paint.

I was painting the bench and thinking about painting. At first I may have been doing a good job of painting the bench. But at some point I may have wondered if it really was a good plan to put new paint among all the stretches of old paint. I didn't think the old paint and new paint would look very good together.

Then I realized that the paint I was laying on the bench wasn't actually "sticking." It would disappear only a while after I painted the patch. It seemed like either the paint evaporated away or like the paint just sank into the wood. I then realized that I had forgotten to lay a coat of primer before I lay the coat of white paint on the bench. But I didn't have any primer here.

I stood up. I had to head out and grab some primer. For some reason, Lewis Carroll was in the living room. He may have been the last person I said goodbye to before I went to grab the primer. He may have said something encouraging about my painting job so far.

I was now walking around in the parking lot of some huge shopping center or mall. It was either late night or early morning. Some of the stores were open, including a huge grocery store that didn't have any doors on its front, just a huge opening.

I walked past a few huge stores. I seemed to be confused about what I needed to get. I either couldn't quite remember what I'd needed to get, or else I couldn't figure out where I needed to get it.

I now remembered where I needed to go. But the store was closed, and it wouldn't open for a couple of hours. But I needed the stuff now. I needed to get back home and paint the bench for something like a birthday party. But I wasn't going to be on time. I somehow knew this.

I suddenly remembered that I needed primer. It suddenly dawned on me that I could have gotten primer at any time during the past few days. But I'd waited and waited and never gotten it. Now it was too late. I was desperately disappointed with myself. I had done stuff like this before in my life. Would I ever learn how to just do things on time, instead of always waiting until it was too late?

I was about to start crying, I was so disappointed with myself. But, right then, I got a call on my cell phone. It was my mom. She very quickly told me she'd speak with me in a moment. I then heard her getting on the phone with someone else. I dropped the phone from my ear and thought, Oh, god. Here's another one of these calls where my mom gets all dramatic and then tells me something that isn't bad or dramatic at all.

I put the phone back to my ear. I was walking past a store, another store with no doors, just a huge opening. So I walked inside, thinking I might be able to find something, maybe primer. The store actually looked like some kind of home improvement store.

My mom appeared to be talking to some kind of hospital, even though I couldn't hear the person my mom was talking to. My mom said something about trying to get information about my brother. He had been taken to the hospital for some emergency.

I thought that this sounded serious after all. My mom had some information on my brother. She gave it to the operator, to find out where my brother was. The info was like a room number or something. The operator put my mom on hold.

My mom came back to talking to me. She said, "Your brother has thrown himself to the ground." I understood this to mean that my brother had attempted or committed suicide by throwing himself off a multi-story building.

I said, "No," in a flat, but panicked voice. I was about to lose control of myself and start pleading, "No, no, no!" into the phone. But I didn't I was too afraid that the hospital operator would hear me (even though I couldn't hear her), think I was being disruptive, and hang up before giving my mom any information on my brother.

I walked over to an ATM to get some money to buy whatever it was I was here to buy. As I walked over to the ATM, I pulled the phone away from my ear. I had some web page regarding the hospital on my screen. The text was black, with some passages of text in tan-orange lettering. The screen was kind of like visiting or facilities information. I kind of got the impression that this place wasn't a hospital in the conventional sense.

As I got to the ATM, before I could even slide my card through, my mom was back on with the operator. She said something like, "He did? When? Well, it would have been really nice if someone had told me this earlier." It was obvious my mom was terribly sad and angry. She wanted to burst into tears. But she kept her temper with the operator, sounding pretty well composed, though slightly irritated.

I understood, before my mom even got back on the phone with me, that my brother had died. The hospital really only called to tell my mom this because they couldn't hold onto the body. They needed someone to take it away. Otherwise, they might never have called my mom.

My mom told the operator she'd be right back. She put the operator on hold. She got back on with me and said, "Your brother died at 4:15 AM this morning."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a kitchen in a small suburban house at night. The kitchen was dim, as if lit only by a small fluorescent light from some place like over the counter or the sink. A small oval table filled up most of the kitchen. The kitchen opened directly to the living room and gave a straight view to the house's front door, which was open.

I seem to have seen everything from a point of view as if I were sitting on the floor or as if I were a small child standing near the table.

There were a lot of people in the kitchen. Some of them were probably my family members. Others were possibly friends of my family members, but I'm pretty sure I didn't know them. We were celebrating some kind of Asian ceremonial dinner.

My old friend L stood up and said that her husband was in the bedroom. Apparently he was too sick to come out into the kitchen with the rest of us. But he was still going to celebrate the Asian ceremony. I could see him in bed, wearing pale blue, 1950s style pajamas, sitting in a big, fluffy bed, possibly even with an old style ice pack on his head and a thermometer in his mouth.

L had prepared a whole tray of dinner items for her husband. The tray was silver, and there was a tall, thin, silver coffee pot on it. L herself was dressed in an "Asian-style" (???) black, silk mini-dress. The dress was sparsely adorned along the chest with gleaming squares of red and green glass or jewels. At the waist there were squares of diamonds (?) which were arranged to look like a thick belt.

L looked so beautiful, and her dress' adornments gleamed so brightly that everybody was stunned into silence as she walked out of the kitchen. In the living room she turned left and walked out of sight. One guy in particular, possibly a fattish, oldish man, had his mouth wide open in arousal.

There seemed to be much fewer people in the kitchen now. In fact, it may have been just my mom, one other person, and I. I now saw a line of older, Asian men walking into the house and filing into the kitchen. There were three or four men.

The men wore long, slender robes of a thin material like bed sheets. The robes were kind of neutral colors, like pale, light brown. They had kind of standard, paisley-like designs, like you might see on a bandana. The men also wore headdresses that seemed to be made out of something like wicker or twisted twigs. The headdresses were like three or four tall loops that tiered upward to look something like crowns. At least one of the men also wore eyeglasses.

Despite this kind of drab appearance, something about the Asian men seemed to be iridescent and gleaming, as if just a thin patina of some kind of purple, pink, and blue material were coating the crowns and possibly also the robes. I didn't know whether to be impressed by or disappointed by the men.

I ended up walking away from the table and into the living room as my mom began speaking with the men, possibly doing something like making arrangements for whatever kind of ceremony they might be performing for everybody at the house. As I walked away from the table I was probably seeing from the viewpoint of a small child.

I could hear my mom talking as I walked into the living room. When I got into the living room, it was daytime. The living room was kind of full of bright daylight. I turned left. I now saw from my adult height. One of my uncles possibly sat in a recliner chair at the left side of the room.

My mom was still in the kitchen, talking with someone like my uncle. I could hear her as if she were speaking from within the back of my head. She was complaining about my uncle (as if she weren't speaking to him!). She said, "I have a lot of energy to do things. Not like him. Because I don't do all those things he does, like listen to rock music and write weird stories on the internet."

I felt guilty because I listen to rock music and write stories on the internet. So I felt like maybe I was wasting my energy instead of doing useful things. I may have started looking at a tall, thin bookcase which was near the front door.

I now had a view of a scene like from a movie. There were two male police officers. They were plainclothes detectives, and they were dressed in suits, possibly 1970s style suits. One cop was black. The other cop was Mexican, and may have looked like a fat, worn-out version of Jimmy Smits.

One of the cops got shot in the stomach. The other cop seemed to be really surprised by this, and he opened and puckered his mouth as if he himself had gotten shot in the stomach.

Dream #2

I was in a room that was like a copy room in an office. But it also seemed to be part of some building in the woods, like a ranger center in a national park. There was a window letting in a moderate amount of natural light. But there were no lights on in the room, I think. The room itself may have been pretty cluttered. There was even a cot-like bed near the door into the hallway of the office.

I stood by the copier, waiting for some printing job of mine to come out. Apparently I was waiting for some kind of series of pages of charts or tables for a report that my boss was putting out.

The job itself was four pages long, each page with two tables. The tables themselves may have consisted of a title section and a body. But both the title and body were just empty rectangles. There were paragraphs of description between each table. A number of copies were being printed out, but they were interspersed with two other jobs that some other people at the office were printing out.

Both of the other jobs were being printed in color. They had green lettering. One just appeared to be the print out of a Power Point presentation -- although it seemed like it was only the back pages of the presentation: all the legal disclosures "fine print." The other report seemed to be written all in Arabic. It may have been a full report, including maps (of Africa?), but it also included a lot of "fine print" pages, also in Arabic.

The jobs were all being printed out so randomly that I had to sift through all the pages just to find my pages. I was getting so tired that I actually sat down in a small, cot-like chair right next to the copier's feed area and slouched far back while shuffling through the loads of paper that kept coming out.

I was apparently wearing khaki shorts and no shirt. My pale blue shirt, which I wear to bed at night, was laying somewhere, as if I had been wearing it, but I had taken it off. Also, at some point, bright, fluorescent lights were on in the copy room.

As I shuffled through the loads of paper, I became really interested in the report written in Arabic. I couldn't understand any of it, obviously, but it seemed to be about something really interesting.

Suddenly my boss opened the door. The chair was so close to the door that my boss couldn't open the door all the way. He looked in and saw what I was doing -- looking through all these other reports. He started to ask me about something work-related. But, disgusted with me, he stopped talking and just shut the door.

I felt bad for having been looking at the other reports. But I then wondered why I should feel bad. My boss had set me to the task of retrieving all these pages. And that's what I was doing. They were just all coming out so randomly that I had begun to occupy myself with other stuff in the meantime.

But, still, feeling guilty, I stood up and walked around in the copy room, as if walking around would somehow prove that I was actually working. The lights were off again in the copy room, and only natural light from the window came in.

I could now hear my boss complaining to someone, possibly one of his bosses, about how he had discovered me in the copy room, wearing shorts and no shirt. I suddenly became conscious of the weirdness of my attire, even though I had been aware of my attire before. I wondered how I could have worn my night time shorts and shirt to work, and what would have made me take off my shirt altogether.

There was apparently a back door to the copy room now. It was open. I looked out. There was something like a forest scene: pine trees, and grey, kind of chilly light.

I looked back into the copy room to find my shirt. I may have found it on the bed. I walked over to the bed. The bed was now full of food. A lot of the food was stuff like snack bars and yogurt-covered fruit and nuts and stuff. Some of the snack bars were like oatmeal with red jelly. There were also Ziploc bags and brown paper lunch bags on the table. There may also have been some kind of padded carrying bags.

I realized that I had to put together a few lunches, at least for myself. It wasn't quite like I was going on a hiking trip, but it was like I was going away for a while, and possibly into the woods. I may have been going with a group of friends. I started to focus on the task of putting the lunches together. I wondered if I would do a good job.

I was now standing next to my sister. My sister's best friend A was also in the room. My sister may have said something. I may have made a really careless comment that made my sister feel really bad about herself. I realized as soon as I'd said it that I shouldn't have said it.

My sister made a weird comment, in a cheerful tone, regarding the way people feel when people make bad comments about them. It was like my sister wasn't acknowledging -- maybe didn't even realize -- the bad thing I'd said. But she was expressing almost exactly my guilty feelings after what I'd said.

I looked at my sister. She was really short and really fat. She had a scrunched in, extremely solid-looking face, which looked like the face of A's mother, except that it was deep red and rock hard. I felt really bad, because I felt like my statement may have made my sister look like this.

It was now like the room was just a bedroom-sized room with just the bed in it. The back door still opened out to the forest. The floor was white tile. My mom now came into the room at some point and began complaining about my sister. I walked out of the room at some point. I walked into a hallway which may have led to a living room. I then came back into the room.

For some reason my sister and A had taken over the task of putting the lunches together. But they may actually have stopped making the lunches. We were still going away into the mountains. But it was also like we weren't going into the mountains. We were no longer going outside.

My sister explained. She said she'd heard some kind of siren-like or buzzing noise outside. This noise was something like either a man-made alarm or some other kind of indicator of a dangerous situation. My sister said, "It sound like there's going to be a lot of radiation outside. I thought we shouldn't go out there. I even think this might be the end of everything for us. There might be too much radiation in the air."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was somehow talking with a private detective or remembering a past discussion with a private detective. It was like I was seeing either real life or a video of "my family's house," with possible clips of the detective in the house, while also hearing the conversation between myself and the detective.

The detective had been sent to my family's house. Some other member of my extended family had accused either my mother or my sister of doing something bad. This may have included abusing children or stealing money from an extended family member.

I didn't feel like my mom or my sister had actually done anything wrong. So I didn't want the detective to do whatever kind of investigation he was doing on them. But the detective was actually mad at me. He told me that I wasn't helping him enough. He needed to get into the house. But I was keeping everything closed. He told me that the least I could do for him would be to keep a window open.

At some point I saw the detective in the living room. The room, like all the others, was cluttered with all kinds of papers, though it also appeared to be cluttered with other things, such as flannel blankets. The detective was shuffling through a stack of white papers that looked like some kind of government documents.

Dream #2

I was in a living room The room was kind of nice. I stood in front of a big entertainment center. I was remembering a conversation with my mother. At some point in the conversation, my mother asked me how much money I was making. I told her my salary. She said, "Good. Now it's time to go out there and make even more."

I had the feeling that this living room was my mom's living room. I had been living here, but now I was getting ready to move out. It was part of the next step in my life.

I stood looking at the entertainment center. There was a TV inside the entertainment center, but it was sat on some kind of coffee table which sat on the floor. In fact, the entertainment center didn't seem to have any shelves or drawers in it. It just seemed to be some kind of six-foot-tall shell made of fake wood. But I still thought it was pretty cool. It may have had some potted plants hanging down from its roof.

I wondered if I was going to be able to take the entertainment center with me. I couldn't remember if it was mine or my mom's. But now I was having trouble remembering whether my mom was coming with me.

I walked through the entertainment center. The right side of it had a little doorway-like structure. I thought to myself that the entertainment center added a lot to the feeling of space in the house. I thought that good taste in interior decoration must mean something like being able to fill your house with all these things that seem to add to the feeling of space in the house.

Dream #3

I was in some wide, short space with concrete floors and cinder block walls. The place may have been like some part of a school building. The floors were waxed and shiny. The only light was from windows at the far end of the room. I may have seen myself in the middle of the room, as if I were separate from myself. I may have looked like a junior high or early high school student.

I was running around in a bit of a panic. For some reason, for a really long time I had been trying to remember a L'arc en Ciel song. But I kept remembering the wrong song. I finally slowly began to remember the lyrics to the song I had been trying to remember.

I also began to "remember" that this song had been taken by some group of people to make some statement on women's menstrual cycles. It was then being used to make girls feel bad about themselves and about having sex.

Good afternoon, everybody. I hope everybody is doing well.

Dream #1

I was laying on a bunch of blankets on the floor in a living room. I was laying on my stomach. There might have been a bunch of people also laying in the living room with me. I could sense a cat walking toward me. The cat lay down near the right side of my head. It began purring. It felt kind of nice to have the cat wanting to sleep near me, although it was a little annoying that the cat wanted to sleep on my head.

Dream #2

I was in some plaza-like area with a woman and her daughter. The mother was youngish, blonde, with pale skin. The girl was maybe 6 years old, blonde, with tannish skin. The mother and daughter sat on some crescent-shaped bench made of concrete.

For some reason I had to go to a museum. The museum was just down the street. I was now in the museum. But all the exhibits were kind of terrible, and there was some kind of pervasive, menacing feel to the place. So, disgusted, I left.

I was now back with the mother and daughter in the plaza. The woman asked me about the museum. I was telling her good things about the museum. She said she might take her daughter there. I figured the woman wanted me to go with her, like it was a date. But I was too shy to say anything.

I sat over on some chair away from the bench. The little girl came and lay across my lap. She lay stomach down and had her shirt pulled up halfway up her back. I massaged the girl's back. I understood from this that the girl wanted me to ask her mom on a date. She wanted me to be part of the family.

I figured I would ask the mom on a date. But now I had to go to some thing like a job interview or a medical examination.

I went to the examination and came back. The mother and daughter were just about ready to leave the plaza for the museum. I figured this would be good for me. I could say that I was just going back to the museum, too, and that we could all go together. That way it would be like a date, but I wouldn't have to ask for a date.

I saw a father, possibly an older, Asian man, with his son, who was a little boy, maybe 5 or 6 years old. The boy was sitting across the man's lap somehow, possibly as the man's legs were fully extended.

Dream #3

There was some kind of snake that had some kind of material in it. When the material was taken out, the snake would become invisible. The material could be put back into the snake, but the snake would not become visible again.

Good morning, everybody. Happy New Year.

My dream recall was pretty terrible over the past two weeks. I was just relaxing and doing holiday stuff.

I recall three dreams from last night.

Dream #1

I was in a movie theatre. The movie ended. I walked out into the hallway. I was waiting for another movie.

There was a woman in the hallway whom I recognized as having sat behind me in the theatre. She had seemed to take an interest in me in the theatre. So I thought I would return the interest.

But as soon as I acted interested in the woman, she ran down the hallway and started playing with a light-skinned black boy who looked about 10 years old. I understood that this woman and boy were lovers. The woman had just acted interested in me to trick me and make herself feel good.

There was now an Asian boy with me. He looked about 10 years old. The second movie was starting. I walked the boy into the theatre.

We at first sat in the back rows of the theatre, where I had been sitting before. But now the back rows were so crowded that I was getting annoyed. I left the Asian boy in the back rows (he seemed to want to be there) and went up toward the front of the theatre.

The theatre's seating swung around in weird ways, and the aisle between the groups of seats curved like a snake.

The movie was starting. I finally sat down in an aisle seat a little closer than halfway to the front of the theatre. I was surprised by how empty the theatre was up toward the front.

The movie image I saw may have had something to do with a road on a hilltop, a clear, blue, summer sky, and a white, 1970s-style car.

Dream #2

I was in some living room with an old female friend, G. She sat on a couch or chair to my right while I stood. She may have been sitting on the arm of the chair. She felt almost as tall sitting as I was standing.

G had been making fun of me, saying some really nasty things, which I found typical of her. I got mad and was just about to go away. But G began stroking my arm in a really seductive way. She said some really nice things to me. I became aroused and thought I might stick around and see whether I could have sex with her.

Dream #3

I was in a space for a flower garden in a park. The garden space was maybe 20m wide and 7m deep. It was a sunny day, but the light felt slightly grey.

The garden space was full of weeds. The weeds were single, slender flowers that looked like tulip stems topped with cream-colored hellebore (or lotus?) blossoms. The garden space was densely packed with the flowers.

I was "killing" the weeds by pulling off their blossoms. I had gotten about halfway through the garden when I stood up to look at all my work. I saw half the garden full of just stalks. Beneath, I saw dusty soil.

I wondered why I was just pulling the blossoms off. Why didn't I just pull the flowers out of the soil by the roots? That way, I thought, any remaining roots would die from the cold before they could sprout up again. Something about this thought made me think that the month was November.