• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. friends in movie theater

      by , 02-06-2012 at 02:22 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      Three people were sitting on a couch. The one in the center was an adult, probably a man. The other two were either children or young adults who acted like children. The two were half-laying on the couch, leaning their heads and shoulders against the central man.

      The two may have been one boy and one girl or two girls. The boy (?) may have been in love with the girl. He may have told the girl he was in love with her.

      The girl may have responded by acting like she would go out with the boy. But she really didn't love him. She loved some other female, either a girl around her age or a woman around the age of the man, who may have been her teacher.

      The man in the center may have had some suspicion that the girl was in love with another female. But the way the girl seemed to act in love with the boy kept the man from being suspicious. If the man knew for sure the girl was a lesbian, he would have stopped her. He was very protective of her, and he thought lesbianism was wrong.

      I was now watching this scene in a movie theater. I sat in the theatre with my two old friends, R and Y. The theater was mostly empty, with only a few people in each row.

      My friends and I heard a voice coming from one of the back rows. It sounded like the voice of our old friend, ER. We thought it must have been ER. But then it was quiet. So we didn't think about it anymore. But then we heard ER's voice again. I knew it must be him.

      I turned around in my seat and called out, "ER! ER!" in a half-whisper. My friends giggled a bit and told me to stop talking in the theater and annoying everybody. I was about to defy them by calling out to ER again. But he waved at us, stood up, and began walking toward us.

      But I didn't want to be quiet after being told to be quiet. So I called out, "We're actually looking for a second ER, too! ER!"

      We were all facing forward. My friends were laughing at me. Then ER and Y began catching up with each other. They'd both led some pretty interesting lives in the years since they'd spoken.

      ER began asking Y about a couple questions about some of the things she'd done. Y responded. She'd apparently had one project where she'd kept some kind of material sealed up in a big trash can.

      At first I thought the project was sinister, like she was keeping a dead body or body parts in liquid in the can. But then it just sounded gross, like she was keeping liquid and old junk in the can.

      Y had another project where she had to vacuum up some kind of dust. This project also seemed really gross.
    2. devil's deal

      by , 02-05-2012 at 04:39 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      A woman was possibly moving down a series of dark hallways or a cave. Somebody was following the woman, possibly the devil, some demon, or a big criminal like a mass murderer. The woman was glamorous, like Kim Novak in the Alfred Hitchcock movies.

      The being had made a deal with the woman He wanted her help, and he would share his wealth and power with her. But the woman had declined. Now the being was following the woman to kill her. If she was going to know about his work but not work with him, she couldn't live.

      The woman was now in some big, wood-floored room filled with yellowy-white light. It was like some room up on the deck of a nice ship. But it was completely empty. The woman stood facing the door on the stern side of the ship.

      The being stood on the other side of the threshold, facing the woman. I couldn't see the being -- in fact, I may have been seeing from his viewpoint --, but the being now seemed to be as tall and wide as the doorway, and to have a very Devil-like appearance.

      The woman faced the being and told him again that she couldn't work with him. But now there was a man in the room with the woman.

      The being had posted up a $1,000 bill on one of the rafters of the ship's room. The being was using it as a test, to show the woman how unworthy the man was to work with him. The being, after posting the bill, mentioned a hidden $100 bill to the man. The man said that there was no incentive in working for the being for only $100. He walked away.

      The being had disappeared. After the man had walked far enough along the deck, toward the bow, so that he could no longer see the woman, the woman went to the rafter on which the $1,000 bill had been posted.

      I was now seeing from the woman's point of view. The woman took the bill. The being had made a deal with the woman that if the man was too stupid or lazy to look for the $1,000 bill, the woman could take it. The woman had also been tied to the man previously. But now that the man had walked away, the woman was free of him.

      The woman still wasn't going to work with the being. But she did feel a bit of fondness for him. And she did feel flattered that someone as skilled as he was would treat her as nicely as he did.
    3. thunder rock

      by , 01-31-2012 at 02:46 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was standing on a tall, grey rock. I must have been right at the edge of a residential area that bordered a mountain or forest area.

      At first I was possibly looking up at the sky. The sun seemed to be so bright that I had to close my eyes. But at some point I heard my mom and another woman talking in my head. The two women were talking about a thunderstorm.

      I looked at the sky. Some heavy, grey-black clouds loomed off to my right, taking up half the sky. I could tell they were thunderclouds. I was really afraid of getting struck by lightning.

      I stood down on the ground now. I looked up at the sky again. I noticed that the left half of the sky was somewhat clear. It looked like the storm was getting pushed off to the right. I thought that if I walked more toward my left I could escape any impending lightning strikes.

      I ran to my left -- really afraid of a thunderstorm. I ended up in the crevice of a mountain. The landscape all around me was of barren rock. The rock was gritty and dull, kind of like a tannish grey granite. The area sloped downward for a bit, then flattened out, but remained ridged, like a molar tooth.

      There were a few other people in this area, mostly men. They seemed to be split up into pairs or threes, almost like fathers and sons. Each group seemed to be engaged in some task.

      I eventually ended up at some contraption made out of old wood. The contraption was like a C-shaped frame. It came up about to my chest. There may have been a couple other guys around me.

      I heard some people talking, either around me or in my head. The scene may have changed at some point. There had been some discussion of a guy. I asked what had happened to the guy. The person talking (in my head?) said some short phrase that led me to understand that the man had been convicted of murder and executed by hanging.
    4. mailboxes broken into; dying woman; cleaning room; sexy doll on full house

      by , 12-17-2011 at 06:24 PM
      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.
    5. killer boy on brooklyn bridge; spheres and rainbows in afterlife; fried chicken tranny fashion show

      by , 11-18-2011 at 03:42 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was on the Brooklyn Bridge with my mom and possibly some other members of my family. It was like we were looking down onto the walkway of the bridge, like we were floating over it. The bridge itself looked like it was in bad shape, even like it had been charred in places.

      There was a young, white boy sitting on the footpath, in some weird contraption that seemed actually to have been made out of the footpath.

      The contraption looked like a pipe organ. But there were no pipes. Instead there was some kind of grid of square holes, where the pipes would have been. The holes were all charred, and they may have had broken-off fragments of pipes in them. The rest of the contraption seemed to be made out of wood and metal suspension wires.

      The boy started talking about how he'd taken his wife to the Brooklyn Bridge and murdered her. He'd done something really cruel to her, then he'd cut her throat.

      The boy may have said something about how he thought the Brooklyn Bridge was such a great spot for doing evil things. He may also have said he was planning to do something even more evil on the Bridge.

      I was pretty amazed. I "knew" this boy was only twelve years old. But he'd already been married and murdered his wife. I wondered what the next evil thing was that he could be planning to do.

      I may have wondered whether, since my mom and I were on the bridge, we'd have to do something evil, too. I visualized the suspension cables on the bridge snapping here and there. I may have imagined the bridge collapsing.

      Dream #2

      I was riding in a big vehicle like a van with a big group of people, possibly my family, out onto a bridge. It was like we had just come up out of a tunnel and onto the bridge. We were high over a river like the Hudson River.

      We drove on an outer lane, so I could see the river well. I looked back, to the large city we were driving away from. There were huge, curling billows of smoke, piling higher and higher. The smoke didn't look like clouds: it looked like chains of grey lava, just piling up.

      I felt like this was the smoke from a nuclear bomb. I figured that the smoke buildup was just a precursor to the great flash of light. I wondered why there was no mushroom cloud. But it suddenly occurred to me that the lava-like clouds were building themselves up into a mushroom cloud. Once the cloud was fully formed, the light would flash.

      The cloud formed a stalagmite-like pillar, and then suddenly there was a bright, white flash. It must have had some force to it. I remember hanging halfway out the window, my arm flapping in the air, in bright, white light, and unable to pull myself back into the van.

      The flash dissipated. I was back inside the van. We were still driving. We'd continued driving all this time.

      I was surprised that I didn't feel burnt. The bomb had been blindingly bright, but not hot at all. I figured we must have been too far away to feel the heat. I was afraid that if another bomb dropped, I'd really feel the heat.

      Another bomb must have gone off. There was another huge, bright flash, this time without any smoke. As the bomb's light dissipated, there was a storm of little black spheres, like marbles made out of smoky quartz, and tiny, little, cartoony rainbows. These things flickered in and out, like on a video game.

      These vanished, and we kept driving on. I'd been looking backward all this time. But now I looked forward. I knew another bomb would strike soon. But I was afraid -- more for the heat of the blast than anything else.

      This time the bomb exploded really close to us. There was a huge flash of light, again with no smoke. And again there was a huge flurry of black spheres and tiny rainbows. But the flash of white light didn't dissipate very much at all.

      I felt like everything else had vanished around me. I was pulled up out of the van -- if it still existed -- and was made to fly higher and higher up into the air. As I did, I soared through swarms and swarms of the black spheres and rainbows.

      Eventually the flash dissipated -- but not fully. For a moment I may have seen the river and city below. But then I saw only blue sky and white clouds, like I was flying upward through some sort of cloud level in a video game.

      I began to be able to control my flight through the crowds of black spheres and rainbows, but not really well. I would fly quickly at the spheres and rainbows, hitting them, as if I were "collecting" them.

      At some point I realized that this must be the afterlife. I'd become a spirit, and now I was operating on some kind of spirit level.

      This struck my "reasonable" side (if you can't tell, even IWL, I don't have much of a "reasonable" side) as odd. I remembered a dream I'd had, as a kid, about dying in a nuclear bomb blast. In that dream, my spirit had drifted up through a tunnel darkness and clouds, up to a big, full moon.

      I thought that had been the correct version of the afterlife. So, I thought, this version would probably change into that version at some point.

      I told myelf to remain calm and stable and keep flying around in the black spheres and rainbows. Eventually, I figured, this vision would fade into a vision of me drifting up into the moon.

      Dream #3

      I was in some kind of room with a few other people. I may have known a few of them, and one of them may have been my mother. It felt like there were a lot of us. But the room was pretty big, and we all had our own space.

      The room looked kind of like a bedroom. There was a huge line of bunk beds, maybe enough beds for eight or so people. Then there was a concrete floor. Off to the right of the beds, there was a space with a cluttered grouping of plastic chairs.

      Across the floor from the beds was a big piece of furniture, like a huge dresser. It was about waist-high, and there was a TV on top. Behind the TV there was a little ledge, and then some more space, like a little cubby hole with more bed-like mattresses.

      People sat on the beds and in the chairs. It was almost like we were all watching TV. But we were really hanging out, waiting for some people to get us for some reason or another.

      Some of us may have been eating fried chicken. Others may have been eating wraps, like the hot wraps at Pret-a-Manger. I may have been eating a wrap that had fried chicken inside of it.

      For some reason I put on a pair of white, satiny panties, and a white, satiny or lacy bra. I started walking around like this in front of everybody. I was partly ashamed of myself for doing this, being a guy and walking around in lingerie. But I also felt like I was part of some fashion show.

      I went back to my space on the bunk beds, the mattresses of which were folded up, like futons, to appear like couches. I was looking for my regular clothes. I may have found them. I was really eager to change back into them.

      But now it really like there was a fashion show. Some other guy walked around in front of everybody in lingerie. I just watched. I don't think I changed out of the lingerie I was wearing.

      A little boy was supposed to go next. The boy was maybe five years old. He ran away from his dad, who may have been trying to get the boy ready for the fashion show. The boy stood at the other end of the room, eating a hot wrap. He may have only been wearing Underoos underwear.

      I realized the dad had been trying to put the boy into lingerie. But the boy didn't want to wear women's lingerie. He wanted to be a boy, not a girl.

      I didn't think it was fair for the boy to have to wear lingerie if he didn't want to. But I realized that it was kind of my fault. I'd started this whole weird "fashion show" thing by walking around in lingerie. Now it was even affecting the little boys.

      Updated 11-18-2011 at 03:50 PM by 37466 (changed "clouds and clouds" to "swarms and swarms")

    6. giving friend murder weapons; diaper girls in bed

      by , 11-06-2011 at 03:42 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a huge building, either like a mansion or a museum. The building was dim, as if at night, with only a few lights on.

      I had been in a back area, where there was a high, wooden wall, with a tall window up high on the wall. I then walked forward to some narrow area with a slanted, wall-like display stand or case.

      My old friend R was standing in front of this display area. He stood really close to it. He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at me. I somehow knew he'd gotten a reputation for being violent, almost psychotic. He was so tired of dealing with this reputation that he didn't even want to have to look at anybody.

      But he actually was as violent as people accused him of being. And he actually wanted to act violently toward me, because he felt I'd somehow insulted him.

      I faced R. But now he was in a room even closer to the front of the building. He was in a little niche in a wall to my right. He may even have been wrapped in bandages, like a mummy.

      I wanted to prove that there was no reason to be afraid of R and that I wasn't afraid of him. So I handed R a whole bunch of items that looked like huge items of silverware: like huge forks and knives. There were also some huge tongs that looked like forks. Everything was sharp, and I knew it could all be used as a weapon to kill me.

      I was now going to leave the house. The idea was, I knew, that if R had weapons and I left the house, that R would kill me. But I was going to prove people wrong. Nevertheless, I was still afraid to leave through the front door.

      I ran all the way to the back of the building. There was a window I'd easily be able to climb up to and crawl out of. But as I started crawling out the window, I felt like R might be right there, waiting to throw the weapons I'd given him at my chest.

      So I climbed back down. To my right, as I faced the wall, there was a dim kitchen, just like a kitchen in any nice suburban house. Just above the sink was another window. I thought that since R thought I was going to come out the back window, I'd be safe going out the kitchen window instead.

      But as I was climbing out the window, I could feel R's presence again. I knew that this time he probably would manage to catch me, throwing the sharp weapons I'd given him at my chest and piercing my heart.

      Dream #2

      I was looking at a magazine, maybe a porn magazine. The pages were nothing but photos, maybe six photos per page, in the same kind of style as a porn magazine.

      The photos showed two girls in bed. They were about nine or ten years old. They were wearing pajama pants and pajama shirts. Apparently, under their pajama pants the girls were wearing diapers.

      The girls got into a kind of sixty-nine position with each other. The girl on top of the other girl rubbed her face against the bottom girl until her pants had been worked off. She somehow managed to remove the girl's diaper in the same way.
    7. 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.
    8. killer updates

      by , 09-28-2011 at 12:22 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a dark bedroom with my mom and my sister. The room seemed to have cinder block walls and concrete floors. The only light in the room seemed to be a blue glow from somewhere along the walls. The room was really big, almost empty, with a big bed off on the right wall.

      I held something like an iPad in my hands. It was playing some sort of news show. Below the news show there was a little yellow strip that ran horizontally across the screen. In this strip would be shown little squares that were like stills frome video news stories.

      The news story playing in the main part of the screen was interrupted at one point by an announcer informing people that updates had been made on a man who had been wanted by the police.

      I looked down to see the updated videos. At first there were strings of black text. As well as the wanted man, there had been a missing man. One string of text said, "MISSING MAN FOUND DEAD." Another string of text said, "WANTED MAN FOUND KILLING MISSING MAN."

      I now pressed on one of the stills, to play one of the video news updates. In my mind's eye, I saw a video image of the wanted man being caught doing something like sawing the missing man's head off while he was still alive.

      While I had been wathing the original news story and reading the lines of text, I had been sitting out on the floor, in the middle of the room. Now I was laying on the bed, possibly with my sister.

      The still I had pressed played a video history of the two men, up to the most updated news reports. The shots showed various photos of the men in some living room. There was often also a woman in the room. The woman was one of the men's wife. I'm not sure which man.

      The men's appearances changed throughout the photos. Sometimes the men looked young, almost 1970s-like. They had huge hair and wore dark sweaters and jeans. At other times, they looked like kind of clean-cut college guys.

      But most of the time the two guys looked almost identical: long hair pulled back in a ponytail, the hair mostly brown, with grey streaks in it, and a big grey streak in the center, full, but not huge, beards, and blue eyes.

      The two men had had something to do with a cult. It was like one of the men had been the cult leader, while another of the men had been a member of the cult, then gone on either to join another cult or try to make a cult of his own.

      Either both men or just the cult leader became militantly angry. There were possibly even groups sent out with weapons. Finally the cult leader had caught up with the other guy and killed him.
    9. nose-bugs in wonderland; flooded power plant; laruku concerts; murderous boss

      by , 09-08-2011 at 01:40 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I stood before a group of people including Alice Liddell and Xie Kitchin. Alice and Xie stood on either side of something like a tree, although the tree was probably indoors. Something like an old scroll-sign may have been posted to the tree, and there may have been a staircase leading up to the tree. A few other people were around Alice and Xie, possibly including Lewis Carroll.

      Either I or Lewis Carroll had brought gifts for Alice and Xie. The gifts were in thin, plastic bags, like the kind you might get at a bookstore. Caroll had given the gift to Xie with some amount of ceremony, but had neglected the same kind of presentation with Alice.

      Caroll may have given Alice her present first, then given Xie her present. But he now rushed back over to Alice. He may have thought it was too late for making a presentation. So he may not have done much of anything at all. Both girls' gift-bags were lying at their feet.

      Now Alice was walking around by herself in a space that was like a small path in a forest, except inside something like a mall. In fact, the "forest path" area was occasionally so narrow that it was like Alice was simply walking on the edge of some planter, right in the middle of a shopping mall's corridor.

      As all this went on, Lewis Carroll went on to tell a story about how Alice had gotten a bug stuck in her nose. But somehow the bug was good, and Alice knew this. The bug may have been light green and maybe 10-15cm long. Alice knew that if she blew the bug out of her nose that something good would happen, so that Alice would have a good rest of the day.

      But somehow, the story went, Alice thought that the second part of the day was always grumpy. So Alice was curious how the second part of the day could actually be happy.

      So, Carroll narrated, Carroll told Alice that the first part of the day knew that the second part of the day was always grumpy. So the first part of the day would hide and avoid the second part of the day. But then the first part of the day would sneak up and surprise the first part of the day, somehow influencing the second part of the day to be good.

      Dream #2

      I was probably in something like a train (or a pickup truck?) with my sister and another woman, who was probably my sister's friend. It was a sunny day, and the sky was clear and deep blue. We rode along something that looked like a big lake. But it may actually have been an area hit by a really bad flood. The water actually looked peaceful, and it reflected the blue of the sky.

      I told my sister that perhaps the flood hadn't been so bad after all. In fact, I didn't think the "power plant" had been damaged, like my sister had apparently thought. My sister may now have felt that I had been right.

      But, even as we were talking, we came up to the power plant. It was at the other end of this "flood lake" from us, although now we were directly across from it. At first, it may have looked okay. But then, we saw, it was completely smashed and still half under the floodwaters. It looked like it had actually been only a substation. Now it was a bunch of smashed steel frames, wires, coils, and fencing. I told my sister it looked like she had been right after all.

      Dream #3

      I was in a small room, which may have been part of a library or museum. The room actually felt like a room in an old castle. The walls were like stucco. The walls each had wide, arched entryways on them. The room was kind of dim, with natural light seeming to come in from some indiscernable place.

      There was a crowd of teenagers packed in the room, watching L'Arc en Ciel perform on a stage. I was alternately in the crowd and on the stage, singing, as if, from time to time, I became Hyde.

      Then I was in the crowd, outside the room, in a kind of narrow hallway, which was just as packed with people. Somebody made an announcement that a line was now forming for the special L'Arc en Ciel concert, which would be held later on. The line was first come first serve, and only a few people would get into the concert.

      I saw the line forming in the crowd in which I stood, like a current in the ocean. I thought that I should try to get in the line. After all, I thought of myself as a pretty big L'Arc en Ciel fan. But I was already sick of the crowd, and I didn't want to have to deal with the jerks in line on top of that. So I figured I'd forget it.

      I was now walking through a big area, like a covered porch in an old monastery, although I may still have been inside. The crowd was still pretty thick here, although I finally had some personal space.

      I was then standing before a woman who sat at a bench. The woman was maybe in her mid to late fifties. She had obviously been thin all her life, though she now seemed to be gaining weight, and she looked a little dumpy. She had pale, brown hair and fair skin. Her face was kind of square, lined with wrinkles. She had pale eyes. But the whites of her eyes looked misted over with purple, almost as if bruised.

      The woman was either fully or mostly blind. She carried a walking cane. She may have been trying to explain to me how I needed to keep my emotional grounding regarding some kind of problem in my life.

      I was really concerned by the purple coloring on the woman's eyes. I asked the woman how she'd become blind. The woman may have started telling me her story.

      Dream #4

      I was in the driveway of "my boss' house." It was a nice, sunny day. There were a lot of cars in the driveway, and there may have been a lot of people and activity on the driveway and in the garage, which was open.

      Someone explained that my boss had been arrested for murder. The police were in the house, getting my boss. My boss' wife and daughter now came out of the house, hugging each other and crying. The daughter was blonde, wore a pink dress, and was maybe six or seven years old. She barely came up to her mother's waist. Apparently the little girl had been a victim of my boss' craziness.

      Now the police were bringing out my boss. Someone mentioned that my boss thought I was stalking him. Part of the paranoia that had led him to murder was the thought that I was stalking him and somehow mind-controlling him, so that he'd become a killer. So I thought that, as my boss was brought out, I'd hide a little, so he wouldn't think I was there, "still" stalking him.

      But the police brought my boss out too soon for me to hide. My boss was very pale, like my boss is IWL. But he looked a lot more manly. His face was kind of rugged and square, instead of being round and flabby. He also had stubble on his face. His hair was short, kind of wiry, maybe pale brown or red. My boss wore a pale, denim shirt. He looked really worn out by whatever he'd been through.

      As the police were putting my boss in the car, my boss got a view of me. But I couldn't tell what he thought of seeing me. I and someone else got in another car and pulled away. I thought if my boss saw me leaving, he wouldn't think I'd been stalking him.

      I was now somewhere, possibly in front of my boss' house again. I heard that my boss had actually murdered his daughter. The murder had actually been part of some ritual, maybe satanic.

      My mom and I were now pulling up to my boss' house in a car. It was dark outside. It was either very late night or very early morning. We were here to pick up my sister. My sister had been in the house when my boss had committed the murders (my boss had possibly also murdered his wife). My sister was now "acting" as if she was house-sitting while my boss was in prison. This was so my boss wouldn't think my sister either knew about or felt uncomfortable about the murders that had been committed while she'd been in the house.

      The home was still a separate home. But it was set up in a strange way. To get to the front door, I had to walk up a tall staircase, up to a balcony, like in an apartment complex or a hotel with outdoor balconies connecting the residences.

      I knocked on the door, which was a grid of wood-framed, glass panes, showing in to the entrance corridor. The floors of the hallway were tile. There was something that seemed to be orange about the walls, though the walls seemed to be some kind of beige marble. The hallway ended in a wall and went off to the left and the right, i.e., in a "T" shape.

      My sister first came from the right side. She saw me standing outside. She seemed to rush off, to get all her stuff together to meet me. She now came from the left side. She wore a giant, very lifelike, replica of a white horse's head on her body, so that the only part of her showing from under the horse's head was her legs, below the knees.

      Somehow my sister explained to me (she was still walking to the door, and I was still outside) that she wore the horse's head as part of the satanic ritual. But she also wore it so my boss wouldn't think my sister had been able to see the murders my boss had committed. But I also knew that my sister wore the horse head over her body as a defense against the trauma she'd experienced from the murders.

      Somehow, it was like my sister was my boss' daughter, and that my sister had been the main victim of some torturous satanic ritual which then culminated in the murder of someone, though probably not my sister.

      Someone may have explained to me how my boss had finally been arrested. But as they told me this story, it was like I was watching the arrest. It was like my view was only 33cm or so away from my boss. Sometimes I may actually have seen from my boss' point of view.

      My boss apparently lived in a smallish, kind of squalid, apartment. It was daytime. The front door of the apartment was open. The police were standing just inside, in the living room. They were going through the procedures of arresting my boss. But my boss suddenly made a break for it.

      My boss may have been a young, tallish, slim, but muscular man wearing a sweater and jeans, with black hair and a light beard. My boss ran down a staircase. He ran past the apartments, into a desert field of dry grass and pale gravel. He then ran down into a shallow box canyon. He began spray painting a lot of words onto the walls of the box canyon in red spray paint.

      I was curious about what my boss had written. It seemed like it was some kind of message, like for a doomsday cult. But I felt like there might be an element of philosophical truth, or at least a kind of dark coolness, to it. But I was also interested in how the police had caught up to my boss and captured him.

      But the vision had ended here. Now I was in a weird building, like a convention center or shopping mall full of stuff that made it feel like a bunch of hotel lobbies or living rooms. I had been watching some TV. I'd probably been watching the scene of which I'd thought I'd been a part.

      Someone standing near me may have explained to me that the police had caught my boss. But I knew they'd caught him. What I was interested in was how they'd caught him, and what he'd written on the walls of the box canyon.

      I knew that my mother had gotten the newspaper. She'd actually just gone out to get the paper. She'd likely be coming back home with the paper by now. So I'd just go up to my mom's apartment (or room?) to get an account from my mom on what details had been in the paper.

      I walked up to the mezzanine balcony of the strange building. I went down a side hallway and into a room like a hotel room, which was my mom's apartment. My mom had just arrived, and she was reclining on her bed with a selection of magazines and newspapers laid before her.

      My mom may have been a kind of tall, kind of beautiful, glamorous woman, maybe just now beginning to gain weight. She may have worn a dark, silk slip and some kind of silk, floral-printed robe. She may have been wearing black mascara and a "Mrs. Robinson" hairstyle.

      I sat on the bed with my mom and thumbed through some of the magazines and papers. I saw that some of the articles about my boss had pictures of Anders Breivik. (I didn't know Breivik's name in the dream.)

      I asked my mom about it. She said, "When he tried to escape from the police, he tried to be like that Norway guy." (She might actually have said "Sweden guy.") "So he used a pickup truck as a getaway vehicle."
    10. lost friend on subway; home before class; domestic murder drama

      by , 05-25-2011 at 11:42 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was on a subway with my friend H. We were riding above ground. It was night.

      At some point we had had to switch trains. I missed the train, while H got on. I had to wait for a while to get another train.

      I was then on the second train. We were high up above the ground, on some elevated platform that seemed to be a conjunction of a few different tracks, somewhere between stations. The tracks seemed to be on a floor of light beige or white plastic slats.

      I got a call from H. She was at some cafe or restaurant. It may have been our original intention to eat there. But I might now have been much too delayed to meet her there. So she might have decided to eat there herself.

      Dream #2

      It was daytime. I had just come into a house. Outside, snow may have been covering the groud, although it was a sunny day.

      I was in a huge room, which was like a mix between a living room and a study. There was a huge, wall-sized bookshelf along the left wall. There were nice chairs and couches everywhere.

      I may have put something like a jacket down on the back of one of the chairs. I walked toward the back of the room, to a doorway on the left wall.

      I apparently had to get to school. I had arrived home after doing something. Now I barely had time to take a shower and get dressed. Apparently the door I was walking toward was the door to a bedroom and bathroom.

      But I stopped and stood right at the threshold of the door. I looked down, possibly to some book or piece of paper I was holding. I think it was a white piece of paper with sharp, scrawled writing on it in heavy, black lettering.

      I felt like I didn't really need to go to school after all. I thought I would just take it easy at home. After I thought this I felt kind of guilty.

      Not long after this another person may have come into the house. The person may have asked me when I was going to school. I was probably thinking of some way to skirt the question, not have to explicitly say I wasn't going to school.

      Dream #3

      I was in some dark room. I may have seen an old man or old woman walk past me. I follwed the person and found myself in a small theatre.

      The theatre was all black. The seating area was three or four rows of moveable chairs set up on some tiered, wooden structure that had been painted black. There were two long aisles of chairs. I sat down in the front row, in the very far right.

      The play was already running. The stage was just the floor, which was black, and black walls, with perhaps a black velvet curtain against the back wall. The only set piece was some kind of long sign, like a display of text for a museum, set up to run from about waist to head level on square, thin, black metal poles. Everything was lit with gentle incandescent lights.

      An older woman stood in front of the sign. She had red hair and wore a long, slim, but flowing dress made out of some kind of crepe fabric. She looked a little like an older version of the mom in the 1970s version of Freaky Friday.

      The woman may have given a speech and then left. Then the old man came in. He was healthy-looking, but very fat, with tough, tan skin, a bald head with grey-white hair on the sides and some rough, long sideburns. He wore a white toga that left his left shoulder bare.

      Somehow I had gotten the idea that the man had killed the woman, possibly by stabbing her, but also by using some weird kind of remote technological device.

      After the revelation that the man had killed the woman, there was an intermission. During the intermission I walked up to the sign-like set piece on the stage. I watched it really closely. It was like the sign was a video display playing a commercial. One image on the commercial was a red, eye-like object with grey wings, surrounded by darkness.

      Apparently the second part of the play had begun. But it was now like a movie. The view was of a bedroom window, from the outside. The whole scene was lit in a deep blue light.
      The old man climbed into the bedroom through the window. He was holding a knife with a 25cm, wavy blade. He crawled into bed with the woman. Apparently this was when he had stabbed her.
    11. beating up wooden figure

      by , 04-29-2011 at 11:40 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a room like a bedroom. Something about the room seemed very stage-like. The room had concrete floors or floors like a stage. I sat at a table. There was also something in the room that looked like a bunk bed. It may just have been a wooden cube that was as tall as a bunk bed.

      I stood up and pulled something off of the cube. It was a mannequin without a head. It may actually just have been a torso. It was larger than life-size, maybe a lot larger. It was wood, with thick graining visible, and it was painted some kind of dark, but kind of transparent, shade of red.

      I lay the mannequin on the floor. I began whipping it and stomping it. Somehow it was a living thing, and I may have injured it terribly or killed it. I may have then left the room. I may have reflected on what I'd done. I hadn't ever thought I could be so cruel. I think I felt like I must have been directed into the cruelty in some way. The only explanation for my cruelty, I thought, was that someone else had made me do it.

      I was now back in the room, thinking the same thoughts. I began whipping the top of the wooden cube. The whip I used had a big, black, iron hook at the end of it. Eventually the hook pulled a wooden mannequin head into my view. The mannequin head apparently belonged to the mannequin body I had just beat and killed. I kept whipping the mannequin head, and I knew I would knock the head off the wooden cube pretty soon.
    12. beat up in apartment; cannibal hamburgers

      by , 04-18-2011 at 11:42 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in the hallway of my apartment buidling. I was at the other end of the hallway from my apartment. There were two black boys, one kind of tall, both probably in their early to mid teens. One of the boys saw me and wanted to do something disrespectful to me, so he spit in the hallway, near the top of the stairwell going down.

      I was now in my doorway, yelling at a few adults, who were also all black. I asked why people needed to keep doing this kind of stuff, not only to me, but to the whole apartment.

      Somehow a really big, thuggish-looking adult possibly dressed in a red hooded sweatshirt, black bubble vest, backwards cap, and slightly tinted eyeglasses began to beat me up. He pounded and pounded on me until I was lying on the floor. Something may have been really wrong with my left shoulder, as if the man had almost torn it off.

      But I may possibly still have stood up after this to run after one or two of the adults who were now walking away, down the hallway. I told them that I wasn't going to stop complaining just because of what they'd done to me.

      Dream #2

      I was out on some lawn which may have been surrounded by some kind of small building, like a wide villa. It was a kind of pale, slightly overcast day.

      I had possibly done something bad, and now some woman possibly wanted to get me in trouble for it. The woman may have been a few years older than I, with a kind of thin, rough-looking face, pale blue eyes, and very short, red hair.

      The woman was really taunting me. I finally felt so threatened that I grabbed the woman by her ankles, swung her around, and threw her up in the air. She went pretty high, then she landed. She seemed injured. But now I just wanted to kill her. So I lifted her back up, spun her around, and slammed her back down to the ground. I did this a few times, until the woman had been smashed so much that she was finally dead.

      During the last few throws, I saw that there were two men watching me from a porch. On the woman's last fall, her body bounced up onto the porch, then actually tumbled down into a smallish, plastic cooler that was full of ice and sodas. I slammed the lid down on the cooler.

      The guys were still staring at me. One was younger. The other was very old. They both looked kind of grizzled and wore worn old clothes and cowboy hats.

      I thought I'd impress them somehow, so I opened up the cooler and pulled out a Dr. Pepper. I sat it on the porch and made some weird comment about how the woman's body had become a Dr. Pepper and how it would taste so great to drink because of that.

      The men "told" me that I had killed the woman because I didn't want her to tell on me and get me in trouble, but that now the police knew the woman had been killed, and I'd be getting in even more trouble. I should probably get out of here before the police came around.

      I agreed. I started taking body parts out of the cooler. But the body parts, mostly just a bunch of shapeless chunks of meat, were all inside of white paper bags from Wendy's. I sat the bags up on the porch. I asked the men if they would hide the body parts for me, so that the police wouldn't find them.

      I was now leaving. The two men were sitting in a room back from the porch. The room was dim. The two men sat side by side, with their backs to the wall opposite the doorway. As I walked away, on the lawn, I asked the men if we would still be able to cook the woman's body parts and eat them like a hamburger. The men said that we would be able to do it.

      "In fact," the older man said, "You've already eaten a hamburger made out of humans."

      I thought back and realized, with surprise, that the man was right. There was a man just a while back. His body had been turned into a hamburger, and I had been fed his meat without even knowing it! I had been tricked into cannibalism!

      I was now in some bathroom that looked like an outhouse or a bathroom that you might see at a camp in the woods. I was in a stall. I kept coughing and pulling meat out of my mouth. The meat was yellowish and looked kind of like fish or curried chicken. It had the texture of fish. I had apparently not yet swallowed any of this meat. I hadn't even chewed it very much.
    13. killing man, body on bed; dandruff and staples; looking for beds

      by , 02-16-2011 at 12:46 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was either with a group of people or watching them as if watching like a disembodied viewer. The people were in some kind of store like an old deli, which also felt like an old trading post. The people were mostly men, maybe older men. They surrounded a younger man.

      The younger man was pale white. He wore a 1970s style suit with a blue jacket, white shirt, and tie. He had long, frizzy hair which was balding away from his forehead. He had pale, blue eyes, a kind of nubby nose, and a mustache. He may have had pimples or boils on his face.

      The man had either been involved in some crime or had witnessed some crime. Now the men were trying either to get the man to give them whatever he had gotten from the crime or to refrain from telling the police about the crime. But the man wouldn't cooperate. I got the feeling that, right or wrong, the guy was kind of sleazy or cocky.

      The men did something to the man, possibly beating him up somehow. They then poured some kind of liquid like gasoline down his throat. After this they may have lit a match around him.

      The man was dead. The men were now just outside the store. But the outside of the store was like a log cabin in the woods. Something about the event was repeating itself inside, as if the man were dying all over again.

      The leader of this group of people was now a black woman with short, reddish-blonde hair. The woman now stood before the men, outside. She asked them if everything had been taken care of. The men said yes. They had even laid the man's body on her bed, as she'd asked.

      I now saw the woman's bed, as if the woman's bedroom were just upstairs from the deli/trading post. The body of a tall, muscular, black man lay on the left side of the bed. The body may have been naked or clad only in white underwear.

      I now understood that the woman's husband had died. The woman was going to use this dead body to get in touch with her husband somehow. Possibly she was just going to lay on the bed and talk to the dead body as if it were her husband. But possibly the husband was actually going to possess the body.

      A little story played out in my head where the woman lay down to talk to the body. The body became possessed, surprising the woman. The body spoke, but it couldn't move. The woman may have decided to have sex with the body.

      Dream #2

      I saw the top of my head somehow. I saw some rather long and stringy pieces of dandruff in my hair. I was kind of grossed out. I searched through my hair, trying to figure out how much of this big dandruff I had.

      I saw, then, that parts of my hair had actually been stapled to my head. It was done in tiny bands, like braids on a small girl's head. I thought that I had gotten my hair stapled to my head the last time I'd gotten my hair cut. That had been two months ago -- too long, I thought. By now, the staples would be grown into my head. When the haircut people went to take them out, it would really hurt.

      Dream #3

      I was looking through an Ikea catalog for stuff for my house. I may have gotten a bunch of stuff already. But now I thought I'd need a bed, too. But I was reluctant to get a bed. They cost so much, and I'd already spent so much.

      So I looked through a few different kinds of alternative beds, which were cheaper. One was just some blue mattress. Others were tiny, baby-sized mattresses, which I may have taken for cribs.