maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out on a road at the bottom of a steep slope in a neighborhood probably near the neighborhood I lived in during high school.

I stood just outside my mom's car. My mom was about to drive away. But before she did, she was telling me where I could find the nearest Dunkin' Donuts. My mom said the Dunkin' Donuts was up the slope, then one and a half blocks past a park I knew was up the way. The park was mostly taken up by a big lake, around which I used to run in high school.

I was a little disappointed to hear that the Dunkin' Donuts was so far away. I thought I could never make it on time (not sure what I needed to be on time for -- maybe the breakfast menu -- which wouldn't really make sense, either). But, now that I'd decided to go to Dunkin' Donuts, I couldn't stop here.

My mom drove away. I apparently started walking. But now I was already up the slope, and through and past the lake park. I was still worried that I wouldn't make it on time.

I got to some restaurant, which was either Dunkin' Donuts or some restaurant a few stores down the block from Dunkin' Donuts. I sat at an outdoor table with a Latino family: a father, a mother, a couple little kids, and maybe a couple more adult guys.

My mom showed up among this group of people. She told me that I didn't have to worry about Dunkin' Donuts. She gave me a reason for this. But I don't remember it.

My mom pointed the store out to me. I looked up the road and saw the store. The Dunkin' Donuts road sign had a lot of brown on it. The sign was more like a big brown sign, checkered, almost, with little, white squares that had the orange and pink "DD" logo in them.

Dream #2

I stood out on a beach, looking out over the water. The beach itself was very beautiful, but not natural looking at all, as far as I know.

The water was nephrite green, but it seemed to gleam like glass. The horizon was like white gold, and the cloudy sky overhead was like smoky amber. And, it seemed, there was an extremely long bridge, made of black iron, stretching thinly across the water, all the way across my view of the horizon!

At first I was near some Latino family: probably a mother, a father, a daugher, and possibly a son. I was either watching government testing of some kind of nuclear devices, or else I was remembering the testing of these devices, which had taken place on this beach within the past few decades.

I saw one explosion, the light of which I don't remember at all, but which must have been like an exploding ball of light a hundred meters or so above the ocean.

I then walked down the beach to my left maybe twenty meters or so. I saw something fall from the sky into the water -- although, again -- I didn't really see the object. It was like the object was invisible. But I saw its effects on the water as it splashed in: like a row of pebbles and rocks, splashing into the water one by one, in quick succession.

Now the points of water which had been dotted by the splashes surged upward in small fountains. There may have been the small sound of an explosion. The fountains then subsided.

I knew that another nuclear device had been detonated deep under the water. I knew that this device would kill all the fish in the water. I was preparing for the next big wave from the ocean to wash a bunch of dead to the shore.

I may possibly have thought that the device may actually have been made in order to kill the fish. Killing the fish was a form of sabotage against the economy of the nation that fished here.

I now stood back a ways from the water. I stood near a Latino family again. The mother and father were both young and attractive. They were both kind of pale skinned.

The father was muscular, very manly. I was afraid that I'd do something with my own usual personality and offend the father's masculine sensibilities. So I just tried to remain calm and do nothing.

At some point I looked behind me. There was a basalt-like rock behind us. The rock was maybe two meters tall at most. It made a good back-rest. (It was soft and smooth, too, though craggy -- so maybe it had been polished by years of backs sitting against it!)

But I thought that it would really hurt, if a wave washed all the way up here, and someone swimming in that wave were thrown against the rock. I wondered if this was really a good beach for swimming in after all. I'd heard of beaches that were too rocky for swimming. Maybe this was one.

A big wave may actually have made its way all the way up to us, washing against us and throwing me a bit against the wall. From this point forward, the father may have had long, frizzy hair and a scraggly beard.

I walked up to the top of the basalt outcropping. I lay on my stomach and looked out on the ocean. Even though the rock wasn't much higher than the beach, I noticed that when I looked behind me, over my right shoulder, I could see a city. Apparently I was on some island. But the island had a big city on it. I had a surprisingly good view!

I was possibly telling the father about this, when suddenly I noticed that I was lifting up into the air! I felt like I was lifting up on top of nothing. But the "nothing" felt solid, as if I were still laying on the rock. I was afraid to look down, though, to see exactly what was lifting me into the air.

I was afraid, too, of lifting up this high into the air. But I didn't show my fear about this, because I didn't want the father to think I was a chicken.

I eventually came to the conclusion that I had actually sat on some kind of ride this beach had. It was an elevator, I told myself, that lifted you all the way to the top of a skyscraper that was either on or near the beach.

I looked foward, over the ocean, for a while. But I then looked behind me, to the city. I was surprised by how much this island city resembled the city of New York. The buildings all had that old, stone look to them. I even saw one building with the trademark "NEW YORKER" light sign above it.

I was now getting so high in the air that I was starting to get uncomfortable. But I told myself that this elevator stopped at the top of the building. And I knew the building was 34 storied tall. If I could just hang on until then, I told myself, I'd be fine. So I calmed down. I think that I did then feel the elevator start to descend.

But I was now in the basement of some building. It was like the basement of a small, but really nice museum or art gallery. The hallway was narrow and "L" shaped. The Latino mother and father sat in a little window niche in the side of the hallway.

There was a narrow, kind of winding, stairwell up to the first floor. I may have been playing around on that stairwell for a little while, like a little kid would, even though I still had my own consciousness, like I was still myself, as a (so-called) adult.

I then came back down to the mother and father. I asked them if I could ride the elevator ride again. The father said no, I couldn't. If I got to ride the ride twice, then all the other kids would want to do it, too.

I said I agreed. We were almost ready to leave. But if I got to ride the ride twice, and then everybody else wanted to, we'd be waiting here forever for everybody to finally finish taking their rides.

I sat on some little bench somewhere. Across the hallway and off to my left was a kind of wide niche in the wall, with a counter before it. This must have been some kind of ticket or coat-check area.

On my side of the hallway, just next to me and on my left, was a doorway to a small office. This office may also have had something to do with ticketing.

One young man sat behind the desk, while another young man stood in front of it. Both men were kind of slim and pretty. The young man standing struck me as being gay. He had short, platinum blonde hair which shone like a silver plate under the incandescent office light.

Both the boys were friends. They may even have lived in the same apartment building, or only a couple buildings away from each other. So they saw each other all the time. They talked as friends for a moment. But the standing boy was here to take care of some kind of business.

Professionally, the standing boy was higher than the sitting boy. And, now that the standing boy was taking care of business, he was really driving the point home that he was higher. As the sitting boy was taking care of something for the standing boy, the standing boy began tapping the top of the recpetion desk and humming in a very annoying way.

Dream #3

It was daytime, or maybe morning, just after sunrise. I was driving through a grassy desert. I pulled my car off to the side of the road. I was at this specific place for a specific reason.

I was some kind of paranormal investigator. I may actually have thought of myself as a Fortean investigator. And this, I thought, was my first real Fortean investigation.

I stood out of the car, trying to "write up a report" in my head regarding whatever I was about to see. I was trying to think of some catchy headline.

I had an image in my head, which I thought was really clever, of a dark-raspberry colored ring. I knew this would lead to some kind of clever phrase.

But I now saw that, just off the road, there was a square-shaped billboard, starting maybe only three meters or so above the ground, with a picture of just what I had been imagining. The picture looked like a thick ring being pushed up through some kind of raspberry-colored syrup.

This billboard seemed only to be the left side of the advertisement. The right section -- the text part -- had been cut off. There may have been just a tiny sliver of it remaining.

Suddenly I felt stupid for having tried to put together a headline for my report before I'd even started my investigation of the subject. I also felt that the headline itself was really silly and cliched.

I turned to go do my investigation, when I was overwhelmed by a strong, almost magnetic, sensation coming from the sky. It was hard for me even to look up from the ground. But I did it.

At first, my view was all red -- a burning, but dimly glowing, orange red. But as my view cleared I saw, on the horizon, at the end of a flat expanse of land, what looked like a phantom sun.

The sun was a huge, glowing, orange-red ball. Its body was maybe four-fifths of the way above the horizon. But it was also translucent. I could see through the sun, to the sky.

This struck me as odd. But the sky itself was also odd. It was apple green -- a beautiful shade of apple green, blending its way down to pale yellow at the horizon!

I tried to figure out what this phantom sun was. I figured it was a reflection of the real sun against this side of the sun's dome. To test if this was correct, I looked behind me. Sure enough, the "real" sun was rising over the horizon behind me -- though it seemed to be rising over some small mountain peaks.

For some reason this satisfied me, and I was ready to begin my investigation. I walked across the street and onto some kind of cinder road. The cinder road went a short way off from the main road, then divided into two roads. I took the right road.

I was now down in a cave. The cave also forked into two caves at some point, and I was down in the right leg of the cave. The cave wasn't dark -- it was like it was lighted by little lights that ran along the floor. But it was kind of narrow and short. And it may have felt like it was getting tighter and tighter.

Apparently I'd had a colleague I'd come out here with: a young, black woman, dark-skinned, pretty skinny, with long, braided hair. But she'd gotten lost somewhere in the cave. I thought she'd either vanished into another dimension or gotten abducted by aliens.

At some point I may have been crawling on my belly through an extremely tight point in the cave. I was crawling with some white men, who were like police officer who had come to rescue me. I may have seen my colleague, lying on her back, dead. We were trying to get my colleague out of the place she was stuck in.

I was now above ground again. This whole area was the subject of a police investigation. Two fat, black police women were sitting on folding chairs near the cave entrance (which was basically just a hole in the ground, maybe with a tiny lip of a mound over it).

I walked away from the cave and off to the right. I could see some white police men wandering around through some tall grass and tree-like shrubs, apparently investigating whatever had happened here. They may have been searching for a body.

I was trying to piece together what had happened. I knew, now, that my colleague and I had come here to investigate. But while we'd been down in the cave, my colleague had suddenly disappeared.

I couldn't remember anything else. But I knew my colleague, unless she'd been abducted, must still be down in the cave. I needed to go back down and find her. But, honestly, now that I was above ground again, I was kind of afraid of going back down into the cave.

Nevertheless, I knew that I should at least face my fear and go back down into the cave. But I was also kind of afraid of the fat, black police women. I knew that if I went down into the cave without their permission, they might start all kinds of trouble for me, maybe even get me arrested.

So I asked the women if I could go back down into the cave. I was, now, actually kind of hoping that they'd tell me no.

But one of the women stood up. She was now kind of short, and very skinny. She had long hair, in a natural style, but pulled back into a kind of ponytail. She looked older, maybe sixty years old. She had to walk with a big, wooden walking stick.

The other woman, who was still fat and young, said, "I wish you wouldn't go down there. The police'll probably finish their investigation soon. And if we have to wait for you to wrap up, we'll be here even longer.

"But if you really want to go, we can't stop you. But she's going to come with you."

I was, honestly, relieved that the old woman was coming with me. I was really afraid to go into the caves by myself. But I was still afraid to go. I was partly afraid for myself -- regardless of who I was with, I thought, I could still get abducted, like my partner had.

But I was also worried about the old woman, who kind of looked to me like an older version of my missing colleague. If the old woman went down into the caves, and it was seen that she looked like my colleague, would she get abducted, too?

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.