maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I may have been flying through a neighborhood like the neighborhood I lived in as a teenager. It was a partly sunny, partly grey day. I landed in a backyard like my great grandmother's backyard.

I started walking along the side yard, toward the front of the house. My old landlady, Ms. U, was walking up from the front of the house, on my right side.

Ms. U still looked old, maybe in her late sixties. But she seemed to be in better shape, and to have a slightly smaller frame. She wore dark jeans and a dark green shirt, as if she were out gardening.

I waved to Ms. U. She reluctantly waved at me. It was like she didn't really want to talk to me. I knew why. It was obvious to her, like it was to me, that I wasn't going to be able to pay my rent soon. She didn't want to talk to me because she was disappointed in me.

Ms. U was now behind me. She met up with one of her friends. They were both going to walk down to the supermarket together. They were walking behind me. I turned right, as they did, and walked down the sidewalk, to the corner of the block.

As I walked, I thought that maybe I would be able to pay my rent, after all. Maybe I would get a job. Then Ms. U wouldn't be so disappointed in me. So, if all that was going to happen, and I could believe it, why could't Ms. U? Why did Ms. U have to not talk to me?

At the same time, I got the feeling that maybe Ms. U wasn't very disappointed in me. Maybe she would talk to me, if I'd just slow down and walk with Ms. U and her friend.

The sidewalk was gone. But we weren't walking on the lawns of the front yards. We were walking on grass like grass that edges vacant lots. The grass was dry, tan, rough, and clumpy. There was a wooden fence to my right at one point. At another point there was at least one orange traffic cone. I kept feeling like I was going to lose my balance and fall into the road.

Dream #2

I was sitting in a restaurant. My table was basically all by itself, in a space that looked like the hallway of a house. It was dark, lit by a dim, blue light, like candlelight in a blue, glass holder. My table was in a little, doorway like niche in the wall. I sat so I faced the restaurant's front door, which was barely visible to me from where I sat.

I knew that there were a lot more tables in another room. The room was somewhere off to my right, i.e. down the hall, and around to the right through another hall.

People kept coming by, apparently angry or jealous of me for having this table all to myself. Some of them started trying to do things like leave their stuff on my table.

One person had a huge, black, wire-cart, like for laundry or groceries. She tried to slide it in between the unused chair of my table and the wall. I stood up and said, "Don't put your stuff in that space!" I moved the cart right out of the way. I may have stuck it in some dark corner just off from the niche I sat in.

I decided that people were jealous of me because they thought I had this space all to myself. So I tried to make it look like I wasn't alone. I laid my bookbag and my jacket on the opposite seat, like somebody else was sitting there. I then pushed the seat far back, so that nobody would try to sit anything behind it. I also figured I'd act like I was waiting for someone to come back.

Time passed. I was now being sternly lectured by a Meryl Streep-like business woman in a white blouse and long, beige skirt. The woman demanded to know why I had been away from my seat for so long.

I vaguely remembered that I had had to go out the front door of the restaurant to help people who were loading something out of a semi-truck's trailer. It had, I remembered, seemed really important for me to have done this. If I had sat here instead of gone out to help, I suspected that this woman would have been yelling at me for that, instead.

The woman told me, "Don't you know we have an important client coming to visit us today? How long were you runnning around outside? Do you even know? Even if it was just a few minutes, the client could have come inside while you were missing. He could be wandering around lost in the restaurant right now. And we wouldn't even know it!"

Dream #3

I woke up. I pulled my blanket off of myself and looked at the upper right corner of my bed. My bedroom light was off, but my hall light was on, and it lit my room a bit. My blankets and sheets were brown.

There was a fly crawling across the corner of my bed. This kind of disgusted me, as if it were a far worse insect than a fly. I brushed the fly off and started worrying about bugs.

I stood up and walked down the hallway -- possibly (I'm not sure), because I heard a strange noise coming from my bathroom.

I got to the bathroom. The lights were on and were really bright. The shower was running, which was odd in itself. But after a moment of focusing, I realized that the shower itself was acting weird. The water was rushing way stronger than usual, and the nozzle seemed to be spraying out in a few different, weird directions.

I looked closer at the shower pipe. I now saw that it didn't even have a head! No wonder it was spraying all weird. I decided to shut off the shower water and figure out how to solve this problem.

I turned off the water. But now there was a strange rumbling in the bathroom. The walls seemed to shake. Suddenly the portion of the wall just beside and below the shower pipe began spouting out water through little holes! The force of the water I'd shut off was so strong that it had burst through the wall in little, fountain-like holes!

I stood back from this and watched it all. I knew that this kind of plumbing problem was much more than I by myself could handle. I'd have to call in my landlord.

I really didn't want to have to call in my landlord. I knew he was already against me for a number of reasons. I didn't want him wandering through my house, peering aroud like he thought he'd find some sort of incriminating evidence about me. But I knew, regardless of the inconvenience to me, that I'd have to call the landlord.

But now, suddenly, the wall over the side of my bathub also burst open with little fountains of water! These fountains of water were either bright pink or else left bright pink stains on the wall. The fountains of water were also more like jets -- they blasted in a flat, sideways pattern, along the wall, almost like sheets of water pouring down a sidewalk on a rainy day.

And then all new things came out of the wall! I thought of these things as leaks and water. But they weren't water: they were steel. They were like surgery or dentistry implements, stainless steel devices, attached to steel cords, like the ringed cords on receivers for payphones.

Some of these cord may have had robotic, or even white-gloved, hands attached to them, holding the implements. The number of cords, hands, and implements springing out of the wall seemed to be increasing and increasing, cluttering up the whole top of the wall.

Dream #4

I was with a couple of men, one of whom may have been my brother. The other man was something like an ex-Marine. He was tall and muscular, slightly tanned, with blue eyes and pale-blonde hair in a buzz cut.

We were in some kind of suburban area. It was possibly early morning, just before sunrise. We may have started out at a house or a small shop. We were loading things into a truck. These things were either items for security systems on houses, or else they were nuclear bombs.

We drove in a pickup truck to some place. As we did, I thought about what we were doing. The man may have been talking to me about it as well. I knew we were definitely installing security systems on houses. But we also had nuclear missiles in our truck, and we were definitely concerned, in some way or another, with a slightly touchy situation regarding nuclear deterrence.

We drove into and through a big parking lot, to a small, one-story building, possibly with white walls and a flat, steel-siding-like, blue roof.

Somehow I now saw as if I were now twenty or thirty meters behind the truck. Missiles were being pulled out of the back of the truck. There were probably two missiles. I only saw their tail ends. They looked like the tail-end of an X-15 manned rocket, not a missile.

I now stood just inside the building with the man. There were a few other people about, including a few little, Latino children, apparently. The inside of the building felt completely unused. There were no lights on, though there may have been some dusty office equipment. The front window may also not have had a glass pane in it.

The man and I were talking (somehow -- telepathically?) about some woman who had had some sort of difficulty in her professional life.

As we were talking about this, I kept hoping I'd just say the right thing. I felt like the military and government had me under suspicion. My appearance alone, I knew, marked me as suspicious. If I said the wrong thing, I'd be detained for sure.

I wandered down a front deck and onto the parking lot, toward the Latino children. I was still "speaking" with the military man. The kids were looking at a hole in the parking lot. It was a rectangular hole, about three meters long and two meters wide. It seemed to go down a long way.

As I looked into the hole, it began to appear as if it held something inside, like a gigantic birthday cake. The cake was covered in frosting that was colored with brilliant swirls of blue, turquoise, green, and white. Tropical fish, either plastic or sugar, also adorned the cake.

I was now "speaking" to the military man about how the woman we had been discussing was probably suffering from an animus possession. She was letting the male side of herself dominate her personality. It was making her overly aggressive, so that nobody could work with her.

As I "spoke" of this, it now became my task to scrape frosting off the cake. I was scraping huge, huge globs of solid green, solid blue, and solid white frosting off the cake. Occasionally I'd also scrape off a few fish.

The scraped-off frosting all went into some deeper part of the pit. It was now like the cake was L-shaped, so that the upper left quadrant (as I faced it) of the rectangle was left free for this deep pit, this extra space for the frosting.

But I noticed that as I scraped off the frosting, it became kind of mushy and unappealing. It still looked very sweet. But on the cake it had been firm, which would, I assumed, add to the pleasure of the taste. Off the cake it was just sickly sweet and mushy.

I wondered why the frosting had to be scraped off the cake, anyway. Someone apparently thought there was excess frosting on the cake. But I didn't. I thought the frosting was good, and that there was just enough.