maboroshi

Good morning, everybody. I had no dream recall over the weekend. But I recall three dreams from last nignt.

Dream #1

I had been looking through a series of photos, possibly with my mother and an unidentified male. The photos were either of people who had some kind of congenital deformation or who had been tortured and mutilated. A lot of the victims in the photos had bloody eyes.

My mother asked me if I wanted to see the last photo, which was apparently the worst. I tried to see it, but it was now like I had to walk through a series of white bedsheets just to get to the photo.

I had an image in my head of a young, white man with lightly tanned skin and long, curly, blonde hair. I told myself, He's gotten so deformed, he's even growing fingers out of his head.

I was afraid to see the photo. But I may finally have seen it. The man had bloody eyes, just like the people in all the other photos.

Dream #2

I was in a dark room that was like a bedroom but was also like some kind of big, back room that might be used for storage in a shop or theatre. I was floating around, possibly disembodied, possibly only a couple feet off the ground.

I was imagining or remembering a conversation I'd had with an Asian man who had just auditioned for a rock band I was starting up. Apparently there were a lot of similar auditions going on. I had asked the man if he had made any plans to be in any of the other bands, as if to say that being in my band would be his second or third choice. By this, I seemed to imply that he would really only be my second or third choice.

The man had replied that this band was the only band he was interested in joining. I was disappointed. But I also felt bad for making the man feel like he was only my second or third choice. I probablly decided, while floating around, disembodied, in this dim room, that I would have this man in my band. I may have felt at this time that the man was in a dark bedroom off to the side of this room.

I may have floated up a wheelchair ramp toward the front of this dim room. I may have seen the exit to this room. The door was open, revealing a hallway that looked like a hotel hallway.

I floated back down toward the back of the room. I started singing a rock song that I was making up on the spur of the moment for the man. The song was about how hard it was to be in a rock band, but how, if he wanted to be in my band, he could.

As I sang this song, I floated around a small pile of junk on the floor, then back up to the front of the room.

Dream #3

A young man was living in some gigantic apartment building. He had gotten mixed up with some young men who were starting up trouble in the building.

The young man had a friend who was keeping away from the troublemakers. The troublemakers had decided to hurt the friend.

The young man was torn by this. He wanted to be part of the troublemakers' gang. But he didn't want to hurt his friend. He'd thought the gang had actually stood for something. Now he was starting to wonder.

The young man went into his aunt's apartment, which was little more than a bed-sized room. The aunt, who looked like Aunt Bea from Andy Griffith, sat, maybe on the edge of her bed, using a sewing machine. Her "sewing" project was a series of colored strings that ran, like a spider web, up to the ceiling, then back down to a white sheet hung on the front wall, beside and over the bed.

The young man had to walk on the bed to get from the door, on the left side of the room, over to the side of the room. As the young man walked over, his aunt gave him a big speech. It was about where the young man would have to live if he went to prison, and particularly to death row. The aunt would have to follow this man wherever he'd go. Apparently this might even involve going to "the Gulf Coast of Mars."

The aunt said she didn't want to have to move to some new apartment building on Mars or anywhere else, so the young man better just shape up.

The young man finally understood that the troublemakers were just criminals, and that they didn't actually stand for anything. He decided to quit the gang and try to save his friend. He walked back over the bed and out of his aunt's apartment.

I was worried for the young man, his friend, and his aunt. I thought for sure the friend would be killed. But I also could imagine a scene where the aunt's sewing project was destroyed --vandalized -- by the gang because the aunt had taken a stand against the gang.