maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was daytime. I was with my mom, out in the middle of the street in what looked like a suburban block of houses. The houses were about average sized, or maybe even smaller than average. But this was apparently one of the blocks (in Hollywood?) famous for the movie stars who resided here.

A male celebrity had just moved in here. There were a whole bunch of people, all gathered on the sidewalk around the man's house -- which was kind of small. The people were all taking pictures of the house. I think they expected the man to come out of the house soon.

But I knew that the houses on both sides of the man were empty. To the right of the man's house, there may actually have been two empty houses.

I knew that a lot of movie stars were out of employment, and that many had had to give up their houses. This neighborhood was becoming desolate. I even wondered why the people in front of the man's house had come here, if all they really had to photograph today was this one man's house.

I started thinking that if these houses were so small, and if the neighborhood was so empty, perhaps the house prices were a lot lower. I thought that maybe if I got a job here, even if it wasn't a good job, I could afford the rent on one of these houses.

I walked down toward one of the houses on the right of the man's house. I must have been trying to see if I could get into the house. I then walked up to one of the houses on the left. I think I actually tried the doorknob on that house.

But my mom -- I think -- got my attention. I think I was trying, in front of my mom, not to look like I was thinking of moving into one of these places. My mom called me across the street, to a house we had been here to visit in the first place.

I crossed the street and walked into the house. As I did, the sky may have been getting really grey. I walked into the house, possibly with my mom.

The house was now my mom's house. I had come into the house with one of my friends. I was in the living room, by myself. My friend and my mom may have been in the dining room or the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a dividing wall.

The living room was dim, unlit, only lit with the light coming from the dining room or kitchen. The living room may also have been really empty.

But there was an entertainment center on the wall to my right. And on that entertainment center there may have been a small pile of mail. I think I took two pieces of mail and hid them under my shirt.

I could hear my mom and my friend talking. At some point I went into the kitchen while my mom and my friend. I thought I'd join the conversation. But they'd left without my seeing them. They were now either in the living room, or standing up in a stairwell up to the second floor. The stairwell was near the entertainment center.

The dining area was kind of L-shaped. The "base" of the L had a dining table. The "side" of the L had a sofa and a kind of long coffee table. The L-shape surrounded the kitchen, which was walled off, I think, from my view.

As I sat on the couch, I could hear my mom and my friend talking. They were actually talking about what a lazy person I was. I sat, curled up on the couch, kind of feeling terrible about myself.

But, for some reason, I thought that my mom would be really impressed by this magic trick I had to show her. I pulled the two pieces of mail out from under my shirt. One envelope was white. The other was black. I thought my trick of the "magically appearing" mail would be pretty cool.

But then I realized, almost as if my friend were telling me this in my head, that my mom would be far from impressed if I pulled her stolen mail out from under my shirt. I was here -- we were both here -- to prove that we were good enough for something or other.

I sat the two pieces of mail on the coffee table, hoping that my mom wouldn't miss them on the entertainment center and would just think she'd sat them on the coffee table. I'd have sat them back on the entertainment center, except that my mom was somewhere near it right then.

Dream #2

It was night. I was standing out in front of a house in a suburban neighborhood. The front yards for these houses were huge, even though the houses themselves were of about average size or smaller.

My mom and I had just arrived, and were walking out of a pickup truck. The house we'd arrived at was set weird, like the front door was on the "right" side of the house, instead of on the "front" side, which would have faced the street. The porch light for the house was on, lighting up a really good portion of the yard with raspy, white, incandescent light.

My mom was getting me set up on the project of trimming a tree or shrub that was in "front" of the house (the side facing the street). She gave me some kind of instructions, and told me why it would be difficult for me to do this.

But before we got to work trimming the tree, my mom built -- almost instantaneously, and all by herself -- a plaster-like dome coming off of the "front-right" corner of the house. She encased us in it as she built it.

It was now built. My mom led me around a kind of dividing wall in the structure. We went through a doorway and were back in the yard. Somehow this dome separated us from the truck. My mom told me something like once I started my job, I couldn't go back, or once I started my job I couldn't go back until I'd finished the job.

I must have grabbed a pair of clippers and got to work clipping the tree. The tree was possibly a weeping cherry. It had drooping, kind of maroon-colored branches. Berries seemed to be growing off of it, more like hawthorn-berries than cherries. They were bright and red.



Hawthorn berries



Weeping cherry

But for some reason, I got distracted from this work and began to fly in the front yard. My flying was controlled by my arms, mostly by the movement of my hands. So if I lifted my hands (clenched in fists) up to my shoulders, I'd lift from the ground. If I stretched my arms way over my head, I'd fly really high. If I shifted my hands to the left or right, I'd move that way as well.

But at some point, I saw my great-grandmother (who IWL passed away a little over two years ago) sitting up really high in something like an oak tree that had no limbs until the high-up limbs in which my grandma sat.

I landed at the base of the tree and looked up to my grandma. My grandma said if I was ----- (something in reference to the cherry tree I'd been cutting), that my real concern should, then, be to trim the -----berry tree.

My grandma pointed across the street, to another tree in the front yard with the cherry tree. This tree was a lot like the tree my grandma sat in. It had bark like a pin-oak tree. But it was really tall, and it didn't have any limbs until way up high on the tree. But I knew that the branches of this tree also bore bright red, hawthorn-like berries.

I was now at the base of that tree. I may have started flying in the front yard again. But now I realized that my mom was no longer here. I may have remembered her saying that she was going to get some more tools, so she could help me trim the trees. But she hadn't come back. I decided to look for her.

I went into the house. It now turned out that I wasn't looking for my mom because she had gone missing after looking for tools. I was now looking for her because she had just come back from getting food for the family from some fast food joint, and she had forgotten to tell me and give me my food.

I saw the bags of fast food on a dining table on the right wall as I entered the house. I may also have seen some other person there, like a childhood version of my little sister. And I probably heard or saw a television blaring somewhere. Something about the atmosphere felt very frenetic.

Just to the left of the table was a door, which I knew was the door to my mother's room. I just thought I'd poke my head in there and ask if it was okay for me to get my food before I grabbed into the bags of food.

But when I opened the door, I saw some young Latino guy making out with some young woman. The guy seemed kind of upset. So I closed the door.

My mindset totally changed. It was like my mom wasn't even around anymore. I was now in this guy's house. This guy had gotten the food. I was working on this guy's trees. And he was in his room, making out with this woman. I felt ashamed for having intruded.

The man called to me from inside the room. I opened the door. The guy was still laying there, half-naked, on this woman, on a couch. He looked up toward me. He had a kind of chubby face and chubby arms. His hair was shaved pretty short. He wore black, Oakley-style sunglasses.

I asked the guy about the food. He told me, sure, just grab my stuff and some fries out of the bag, don't worry about it. After I closed the door and was grabbing my food, I heard the man say to his giggling girlfriend, "Geez. He sure works hard in asking for his food. But he doesn't work hard at any of the work I give him."

I felt bad about what the man had said. I think I felt so bad that I decided not to take any food after all.

I walked around in a room off from the living room. This room also basically looked just like a living room. But the ceilings were really high. There were family pictures dotting the walls, all the way up to the ceiling.

For some reason, I decided to start flying again. I think I had really good control over my flight now. I practiced going up and down and left and right a lot. But then I tried doing some flips. When I'd reach the ceiling, I'd flip or somersault really close to it.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I sat at a picnic bench with a few other people. We all sat under some covering structure, like the shelter for a gas-pump island. But we were apparently at a restaurant.

I told the people at the table that I had the power of mind control. I could will people to do certain things, to carry out whole sequences of actions. The people didn't feel any strain on their minds while I did this. It felt very natural. I apparently used these people to get into places where they could take money. I would then receive this money.

Everybody got up and walked away from the table. Everybody dispersed. But I followed one young man. We walked together out from under the shelter and into an area that looked like a bunch of small auto shops. We then headed out onto a street kind of like a small business section of town.

I told the guy I was now controlling his mind. I may have explained something about this to him.

A weird, small airplane flew overhead, from my right to my left. The plane looked kind of futuristic, but kind of old and dirty. Either I or the young man read the mind of the passenger. The passenger, the young man said, was a beautiful woman who either was or had been a famous movie star. But the woman no longer wanted to be as guarded and watched over as she was nowadays. She wanted to get out and have fun.

We followed the plane with our eyes as it headed to the local airport, which was just at the end of this business street (!). We began walking in the direction of the airport.

I told the young man that the mission I was going to mind-control him to go on would be to meet up with the girl and act like a really fun, easygoing guy. The young man would win the woman's heart that way. She would give him money, and he could bring it to me.

For some reason, we were walking back up under the shelter with the picnic tables. The young man asked me, "What if I just enjoy living with the woman so much that I decide to stay, and I never come back to bring you her money?"

I said, "Good for you, then. Go. And I hope you have a good life."

Dream #2

I walked out onto the sidewalk, probably outside of a big, public building. It was probably autumn, and it was a sunny day, probably with yellow leafs on the ground.

I was in a clean, quiet, probably wealthy town. A tall, Indian man in khaki slacks and a pale, yellow Polo shirt stood out on the sidewalk. The man had a short, old hairstyle, with plenty of gel, and he wore nice, squarish eyeglasses. He seemed to be waiting for a cab.

The man turned away from the curb and got a glimpse of me. He remarked that I was too skinny.

Dream #3

I was in a courtroom. A rich woman, who may once have been a really popular movie star, was on trial for not paying a cabbie. The story went that she had told the cabbie to wait for her at some place like a gas station, and that she would meet him there. But she never showed up.

The woman's argument was that she hadn't told the man she would pay him for his time in waiting, and that he hadn't driven her anywhere in order to get paid. It was the man's choice to wait for her, the woman said. And the wouldn't shouldn't have to pay for the man's choice.

I may have seen the view of the cabbie at the gas station in my mind's eye for a moment. But now my view was in the courtroom. I was on the right side of the room (the right side, as one would face the judge's bench). I was at the back of the room, where the woman and her lawyer sat.

The woman's lawyer was also a woman, though I couldn't get a good view of her. The woman and the lawyer seemed to be seated in front of, rather than behind, a small table. They were both probably in swivel chairs.

The woman looked to be maybe in her early forties. She had tanned skin and dark blonde hair with black or dark brown streaks in it. She wore a dark blue one-piece dress with short
sleeves and a skirt that went to just above the knee. The dress may have had vertical stripes of navy blue and some lighter, though dull, blue.

The woman was reiterating the point that she didn't feel like she needed to pay. She threw her arms up in the air, as if to say, "What's the big deal? I don't care."

I was now on the left side of the room, in one of the back rows, with the cabbie and his lawyer. The cabbie's lawyer was a beautiful woman, half Japanese and half white. She wore a red dress, kind of 1950s or 1960s style, long-sleeved, with a fabric like heavy felt (? - I don't know the names of fabrics). Her hair was frowsy, frizzy, and pale, with chunky, straight bangs.

The cabbie was like a skinny version of Fabio. He had long, blonde-brown hair and a tan, clean, muscular face. He had sparkling eyes and a bright smile, though some of his teeth may plainly have been fake. He wore a sleeveless, flannel shirt unbuttoned at least at the chest.

The judge was explaining something about his opinion of the case. He seemed to be on the side of the cabbie, though not completely. The judge made some joke, and the crowd laughed at it.

But the cabbie didn't speak English. I think he spoke Russian. The lawyer had to translate everything for the cabbie. She'd translated the joke, and the cabbie understood it was a joke -- but not until the judge had already moved on to something else.

The cabbie laughed gently and gave some kind of weird glance to the judge, like he was trying to kiss up to the judge. But the time of the joke had passed. The cabbie laughing at this point made him look kind of like an idiot.

Dream #4

I was in bed, kissing some girl on the crotch of her yellow, cotton panties. At some point, though, the woman turned into my mother.

Good morning, everybody.

I was in a place that may have been like a mix between a bedroom and a clothing store. The place was small and crowded with clothes and other items.

A group of black kids had done something to me. Possibly it had something to do with something perverted about me. They might have stolen or ruined a bunch of women's lingerie that I owned.

I had discovered this upon either waking up or coming out of some small place like a dressing room. At first I didn't say anything. But when I didn't react, the kids, both boys and girls, got really rowdy, taunting me. They may now even have threatened doing something to my mom.

So I decided to call some woman who was an authority figure over all of us and tell her what was going on. I picked up a cell phone off a couch that a bunch of the girls were laying on. As soon as I started dialing, a few slightly overweight girls gathered around me, yelling that I better not call the lady. But I had already dialed, and I wasn't going to hang up.

I got some weird message. The woman said she was out. She gave some big explanation about why she was out, which sounded like a blog-style rant about how hectic life is.

I now stood in a doorway at the woman's apartment. The woman had just taken a shower and she was walking around, getting dressed. She was really pretty, blonde, probably in her late 20s. She probably had a towel around her body and a towel around her head. She kept talking on and on about all these airheaded things that were apparently reasons that she was too busy to take my call.

I was trying to place the girl. She looked like a celebrity. Cybil Sheperd? No, her eyes were pale green and thin, her hair was too long, and she was too tan. Eventually I was amazed at how out of it this girl was. I thought, She can't help me. She's useless!