maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Ugh! I let my dumb weekend chores spiral out of control. So I'm not making this entry until now!

Just as a note, the second dream was the closest thing to a nightmare that I've had in a long time. It wasn't very different from many of my other dreams. But, for some reason, it upset me a lot. I could hear myself screaming in the dream. I may actually have woken up screaming.

Dream #1

I was heading into the lobby of either an apartment building or a hotel. I had just moved out of my old place and into this new place. The lobby was really wide, but with a low ceiling and a kind of old, worn-out look. There was a little front-desk-type area at the back, right corner of the lobby.

I headed toward a small room on the left wall, near the front of the lobby. It was the mail room. There were a lot of aluminum mailboxes along the wall on my right side. But a lot of the mailboxes were busted open. Someone had broken into the mailboxes.

I was arfraid for my own mail. My mailbox may have been open. I had some mail in my box. But it did seem like something was missing.

I looked at my mail as I walked out of the room. One piece of mail was for some other apartment. The other piece may have been a door tag from FedEx, like what they leave on a door when they come to deliver a package, but the person isn't hme.

I thought I would either give the piece of wrongly delivered mail directly to the person it belonged to, or else give it to the person at the front desk. But I was kind of afraid to let anybody know that the mailboxes had been broken into. I didn't want the people who'd broken into them to cme after me.

For some reason I was getting ready to leave the apartment. A FedEx man was coming in at the same time. But instead of asking him about my package, I told him that someone had broken into the mailboxes.

Dream #2

A documentary about the effects of some sort of nuclear accident, probably in Russia, though I'm pretty sure it wasn't Chernobyl. The documentary was following the lives of people in a small town near the accident.

The people had all been exposed to radiation. But they hadn't been moved away from the area where they'd been exposed. Most of the people seemed to be women.

There was one woman in a bedroom that kind of looked like a hostpital room. The woman was by herself, with her baby, in the room. But the room had multiple beds (or low cots), some of which could be separated from each other by dark blue curtains.

The woman was walking back and forth with her baby cradled to her chest by means of some kind of blanket. The woman wore a dark green t-shirt and may have been pushed up above the navel of the woman's taut belly.

A narrator may have said something about how the woman was really ill from the effects of the radiation. Now the woman was laying in one of the low cots, holidng her baby close to her. The baby may then have changed into a three- or four-year-old girl. The girl may have been tending to the mother.

The view now closed up on the woman's right arm, which was loosely hanging off the edge of the bed. A nurse administered some kind of injection into the woman's arm.

But either the woman was so sick that her body couldn't take any more medicine, or else the injection had been administered wrongly, and now the woman's body was rejecting it. The woman's vein swelled into a square about 3 cm per side. Then the woman's heart stopped beating.

I couldn't believe the woman had just died! I was now in the room. I don't know where the daughter was. I don't know where the nurse was. I thought I was myself, by myself.

I was panicking. I didn't know what to do about the dead woman. I still didn't want to believe she was dead. I thought if I found somebody, they might be able to save her.

So I used my cell phone and called somebody who I thought could help. I was now out in what I thought was the lobby for a small, narrow apartment complex.

I got a hold of the person, probably a man. Suddenly I had to admit to myself that the woman was dead, and that that was what I was going to have to explain to the person. As I started talking to the person, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was a woman, maybe in her mid- to late-twenties. I was either white or Latina. My skin was pale. I had kind of sharp, almost squarish features. I wore some kind of pale, powdery foundation, and my eyebrows seemed to be pencilled in. I also had my hair in tight braids, which seemed almost like dredds, except with a bunch of tiny tangles coming off of them.

I then walked toward either a blank wall or a white wall with a plain, white door on it. As I did this, I told the man I was speaking to that I had been the one to administer the shot to the dead woman.

When I suddenly realized or admitted that I had been the one that had killed the woman, I broke down. I was crying. But my voice was more of a terrified moan, which eventually became a low-pitched, loud scream.

Dream #3

I was in "my bedroom," which almost had the shape of my bedroom, but which was almost empty. There were some boxes along the back wall, near the left corner. But I noticed they had been pushed from the wall.

I was afraid that somebody had been in my room. BUt I was more worried about putting the boxes back into alignment.

When I looked closer, I noticed that what had probably pushed them out of the way was some really heavy box that had managed to slump over toward the wall in such a way that it wedged in between the other boxes and the wall, pushing the other boxes aside as it slid along the wall, down toward the floor.

I picked up the heavy box. It was apparently a Christmas package I'd received. I figured I'd just need to open the package now and put the contents wherever they belonged in the house, so that the box would stop interfering with the order of my other boxes.

I opened the package. A wine bottle was inside. I pulled it out. The green bottle was encased in a white, plastic square, and it had a white, plastic, pull-off top.

I must have done something with the bottle. But now I was standing near the front wall of my room. The lights had been on before. But now they were off. The only light in the room was coming from my hallway or bathroom.

I was looking at my room, proud of how clean and spacious it looked, now that I'd organized things so well. But I now noticed that I had a cluttered pile laying a meter or so away from my back and right walll. The pile was mostly clothes, though there may also have been a blanket or beanbag chair.

I sighed, annoyed that I'd have to clean this stuff up before I could truly think I had a clean room. I lifted up a maroon, button-up shirt made out of some flannel-like material. I folded it. I folded another piece of clothing. I eventually worried that someone, somehow, might discover that I also had female clothing in this pile.

Dream #4

One of the very first episodes of the TV show Full House. Almost everybody in the cast was different.

The house itself also looked a lot different, like a mix between the house in Growing Pains and the house in Family Ties. There was a staircase on the left side of the room, near the front door. At the foot of the staircase was a big piano.

The dad and Uncle Jesse had kind of secretly worked to buy a doll for the middle daughter of the family. (Uncle Jesse may have been John Stamos, but the dad wasn't Bob Saget.) The two men wanted to make up for something really aggravating that had happened to the girl, and had probably been their fault.

So the two men left the doll sitting on top of the piano. The room was now empty, though I had an image in my mind's eye of the older daughter, who was the same person as in the regular show, except that she had really straight hair and wore eyeglasses.

The middle daughter now walked into the house. She was different from the daughter in the regular cast. She saw the baby doll laying on the piano top. Surprised, she rushed to the doll and picked it up. She walked up the stairs with it.

The doll wore no clothes, probably had a white, cloth body, and plastic limbs, and was either bald or had plastic "hair" molded onto her head.

Somehow this plain old cloth and plastic doll managed to pee. She just let out a huge gush of water, getting the daughter's front all wet.

The daughter's appearance had changed. She now looked like a "rebel girl" or "skater girl" kind of TV show character. She cried out, "Oh, god! You peed all over me!"

The daughter needed to clean herself off. But now the whole scene started over again. But everything that had already happened was still remembered by the characters.

The doll was placed, by an unseen erson, on the piano top. For a moment, the camera view closed in really tight on the doll, who seemed to be surrounded by a tiny square of little, wooden bars, almost like a mini, doll-sized railing that had been built onto the piano top.

The daughter ran in and picked it up, this time without any surprise or excitement. The daughter may also still have needed to clean the pee off herself.

But now the daughter, walking up the stairs, started saying things to the doll like, "Oh, yeah! I really like you! You're really sexy!"

I wondered why this girl would find a doll so sexy, and I wanted to see more, to see howthis relationship would develop between the girl and the baby doll that she found sexy.

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.