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    maboroshi

    1. why is a raven like a space station?

      by , 01-01-2012 at 04:08 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      I don't think I've ever made an out and out joke (albeit corny) in a dream before this dream.

      This dream is another instance of so-so dream control. I was watching the video below yesterday afternoon. I thought it might be fun to dream myself onto the International Space Station.

      But I got afraid of messing up the machinery if I actually projected myself up there. So I told myself not to try, after all. Anyway, the dream I had is a result of that thought process.



      Dream #1

      It was a sunny day. I was flying over the roofs of some really nice, 19th century-style mansions. I was apparently searching for a book I'd lost. It may have been some sort of classic book. But I think it was actually a porn novel or porn magazine.

      I think a bird had stolen this book. I may have seen evidence that the bird was on the roof of a house just in front of me. I may have seen something like a little nest on one of the peaks of the roof. I may have felt like the book was now a part of that nest.

      But I was now floating in between two mansions. The mansions both had complex roofs, with a lot of different angles of sloping. My oldest nephew straddled the roof of one of the mansions. My mom sat on the roof of the other mansion.

      I may have been here now in order to get some books for my nephew. My mom had a couple of books on her roof. I think I was going to bring those over for my nephew. But there was still one book missing.

      But now a cartoon bird landed at the edge of the roof of my mom's mansion. The cartoon bird was black, so I thought it was a raven. But it actually looked like the Warner Bros chicken hawk character, Henery Hawk.



      The "raven" had the missing book on top of its head, for some reason. The book was real, even though the raven was a cartoon.

      I thought, Whoa! Now's my chance!

      Still floating in between the two mansions, I turned to my nephew. I said, "Hey! Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

      My nephew said, "What?"

      I bobbed back around to the raven and said, "Why is a raven like a writing desk? Because it has a book on its top!"

      My nephew said, "Oh. I guess."

      The raven now, for some reason, did something like faint. It slid down the right slope of the roof, taking the book down with it. I floated over to the peak of the roof and sat there, looking down at the bird.

      I was a little sore that my nephew either didn't get my joke or thought it was corny. I was trying to blame him for the fact that he thought my joke was corny.

      I could see the book laying at the bottom of the roof's slope, as if it were about to slip off the roof's edge. I guess the raven had already slipped off the roof's edge.

      I thought about getting the book, before it slipped, too. But I really didn't want to do my nephew any favors, after he hadn't liked my joke. But I could see the other books, near my mom. And I figured I'd get those ones for him.

      My nephew asked me to get the other book. He couldn't see it, and he didn't know whether it had fallen or not.

      But I told my nephew I couldn't get the book. I said, "It's in too hard a place to reach. I'm an old man, now. I can't reach into all kinds of places like I used to."

      I now really was an old man. I was a tall, white man, with a big belly. I was bald, with dirtyish grey hair on the sides of my head. I probably wore a nice button-up shirt and blue jeans.

      I was walking with two extremely hot women, probably in their mid- to late-twenties. They were like models. But they were astronauts. They were dressed in these extremely sexy, silvery jumpsuits which, I guess, were their space suits.

      We walked through an automatic, sliding-steel door on a vanilla-yellow wall. We walked into some area that looked like a cafeteria. But not far above my head were all kinds of staircases, as if there were a maze of balconies above this eating area. At the other end of this room was a huge window wall, revealing a gigantic swimming pool area.

      I knew that one of these women was my daughter-in-law. The other woman was a partner on the flight that my daughter-in-law was about to take.

      I was here to see my daughter-in-law off on her space flight. My daughter-in-law and her friend were dropping me off here to relax and wait in the preparation time before launch. I knew that this cafeteria was part of some fitness area, and that the girls were probably going to do a little exercise before their flight.

      We walked toward some sort of booth table, talking and joking. My daughter-in-law, even though she was incredibly sexy, had a kind of low self-esteem. I tried to make her feel better about herself. So as we sat into the booth, I made some kind of sly comment implying how cute she was.

      This made both of the girls giggle giddily. I had a bad feeling that both of the girls were now sexually attracted to me. I thought I should back off a bit. I didn't want my daughter-in-law to be attracted to me. But, I thought, it wouldn't be so bad if her friend decided she liked me.

      The girls had to leave me now. They may already have been gone. But I at least heard my daughter-in-law telling me, in my head, "You know, they have the ----- (press conference?) going on right before the flight. Everybody's welcome to come to that thing. And we'll be there, too. You should come, so we can see you one last time."

      For some reason I didn't think that was a good idea. I told the girls I'd probably just take a walk around before the launch, instead.

      I was now myself again. I was sitting on the ground or on a concrete floor -- somewhere. A tall, heavy, white man with feathery, black and grey hair, stood by a blackboard at a wall. The wall looked like it was part of some warehouse or unfinished building. There were thin, metal beams running from the floor to some kind of half-ceiling.

      The man was explaining something to me about Judaism. He was making calculations regarding verses in the Torah. He was trying to show that the appropriate method of studying was one passage of the Torah per week. He said that this was all a person could really handle, while keeping a balance on his spirituality.

      I saw a number of -- what I would describe as traffic poles -- like the yellow-painted concrete poles with convex tops. But these poles were comprised of crystal cogs, all stacked up on top of each other.

      The cogs were all different colors. But they were piled up so that cogs of the same color were near each other. One pole, for instance, started with orange at the bottom, worked its way up to a pinkish-red, then into a green, then blue.

      I told the man, "It doesn't make sense to me that people should only study one passage a week. It seems to me like a person could actually study a passage a day and be fine."

      The man was a little shocked that I'd said something like that. I felt like I had kind of insulted either his ideas of religion or his ideas of spiritual balance. I think I felt like I needed him for a teacher. So I had to find a way to apologize to him for having made a comment apparently against one of his major theories.

      We were both standing outside now. The man was up on a sidewalk. I stood on something like asphalt -- maybe in a parking lot? The man was taller than me by his own height and the height of the curb. And we were separated by some kind of railing.

      I decided that the best way to apologize to the man was by showing my knowledge of other religions and concluding with the idea that, compared to his religion, all the other religions I knew about were lacking.

      I had a whole bunch of papers in my hands. It was like I was going to flip through some kind of PowerPoint presentation on the faults of all the other religions I knew about.

      There were some slides regarding some religions on the top of my stack of papers. But I wanted to save those religions for later. I shuffled those to the back of the deck. Now the top slide was about some religion that was somehow based in the teachings of Edgar Cayce. I figured that would be a good place to start.

      I gave the man some explanation about the tenets of this religion (I wish I could remember them now!). I was going to move on to how I thought they were silly, compared to the tenets of his religion.

      But the man interrupted me -- as if he thought I were trying to convince him that this religion was really good. He took the same tack with me, now, that I was trying to take with him. He became really interested in what I had to say about this religion. He wanted to know more.

      I felt a little defeated. I was trying to learn more about the man's religion. But now he wanted me to teach him about mine!

      I stood up onto the curb. The man and I turned to my left and walked down the sidewalk, down a slight slope, to a complex of buildings like a university campus. There seemed to be a decent amount of people walking around down there.

      I was explaining something to the man. But now I was in some kind of limbo space, floating around and discussing things in my head. I was now apparently talking to someone, kind of like the Apollo 11 Command Module Pilot Michael Collins.



      Collins didn't believe in something about psychic phenomena. But I was trying to convince him that psychic phenomena did exist.

      Collins and I were now driving in a car at night. I had gotten onto the topic of psychokinesis. I was trying to make some point about how it was already being used in outer space, and that it wasn't causing any harm.

      To illustrate this, I had a chart in my mind. It was a white background, with an x-arrow and a y-arrow. Both arrows were really bold. The plane made by the coordinates was of either twelve or sixteen rectangles. The rectangles were stood vertically. The grid was four rectangles wide, and either three or four rectangles long.

      In this grid, I drew something like a jagged line bouncing down through the rectangles. This was made to show the minimal damaging effect that psychokinetic powers had in space.

      Somehow, Collins and I faded into some place like a residence area for astronauts who were about to head up into space. We were both inside a room with thin-panelled walls, like the fake wood-panel walls inside a double-wide trailer. The entire floor of the room was covered with mattresses, except the left side of the room, which had a set of bunk beds.

      In the center of the room was some very space-stationy-looking computer area. A pole hung from the ceiling. Suspended from the pole were a big computer system and a seat at which someone sat while using the computers.

      Collins was sitting at the computer station. I was laying on my back, on a mattress, looking up at the back of one of the screens of the system.

      I was shocked to see that the logo of the computer's manufacturer was a circle with a stylized, interlocking P and K. I thought, PK! That's psychokinesis! Is this whole computer part of some psychokinesis project?

      Apparently, though, I had been continuing my argument, because Collins, at some point, told me that I'd won him over. I don't know whether he actually believed in psychokinesis. But he at least seemed to believe that, if it existed, it wouldn't do any harm.

      Somehow, I was now asleep, my back propped up against the back wall of the room. But now another astronaut opened the door of the room.

      Even though my eyes were closed, and I was sleeping, I could see the woman. She was blonde, a little frumpy-looking, with frizzy-curly, long, blonde hair. She was maybe in her late forties. She wore a red sweater and red-plastic-rimmed eyeglasses.

      The woman poked her head in through the doorway and asked Collins, "Do you know anything about debt for the companies ----- (can't remember, ----- (Provate?), and Fluxcil, that you might be able to help me with them?"

      These were biotech companies. Collins said, "No. I don't know."

      But the woman wasn't really asking Collins so Collins could help her. She was hinting to him that they should test me out, on my knowledge. But Collins didn't get the hint. So the woman had to make it a little stronger.

      But the mention of the biotech names got me kind of interested (why? I don't know anything about biotech), and I was already waking up, lifting my dark, heavy eyelids, as the woman said, "Well... do you know anybody who might know about that debt? Like... another astronaut you work with?"

      Collins might have said something like, "Oh. Yeah."

      But I was already too interested in what the woman was talking about to wait. I stood up -- still incredibly groggy! -- and said, "Oh? Debt? I think I can get you some information." I knew I didn't know anything about biotech. But I was already making a plan in my head for how I'd do the research.

      I walked over all the mattresses, toward the doorway. The woman may have said something to me, then asked me, "Do you think fifteen minutes will be enough time for you?"

      I said, "Yeah. I can get you something in fifteen minutes."

      I thought I'd have to use my own computer. But I wondered if my wireless would work all the way from up here on the space station. I thought that the satellite system would be all messed up.

      Then I realized we weren't on the space station yet. It was still the night before we even launched up into space. I thought, of course my computer will work.

      Collins had gotten up from the computer station. He was walking out of the room, to go down the hallway for some kind of meeting with the woman. I walked back toward the back of the room, to pull my computer out of my suitcase (???).

      But I'd forgotten the names of the three companies. I turned around and caught the woman before she walked away. I said, "So the companies are... Probate... ?"

      The woman said, "-----, ----- (Provate?), and Fluxcil. You know Fluxcil. They make -----."

      I felt a little insulted by that. I didn't want the woman to think I was stupid. Of course I knew that Fluxcil made -----. But I was just having trouble keeping the companies' names in my head. My brain was still so groggy!

      The woman left and I walked back toward the back of the room. My suitcase was huge -- maybe waist-high, and as wide as two of me. I knew my computer was in a pocket at the back end of the suitcase.

      As I walked toward the suitcase I was already trying to figure out how to get my information. I knew that I'd start by pulling the most recent financial filings for each company.

      I started wondering if fifteen minutes was enough time. These filings were for biotech companies. They might be huge.

      But I thought that there were two other things I should do if I had enough time left in my fifteen minutes. One thing was to do a debt schedule. But I thought I would probably have to ask the woman if she wanted that before I actually did it.

      I also thought that, to get the most recent debt issuances of the companies, I'd probably also have to go through the most recent press releases for each company.
    2. moving out; movie discussion

      by , 12-30-2011 at 03:16 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was walking up the stairs in a fire escape stairwell in an office building. The walls were white and the light was either incandescent or a warm-feeling fluorescent. There may have been one or two people ahead of me, guiding me. One may have been a pretty, young woman.

      I was told something about the office where I was being taken. It had something to do with the difference between this place and my old office. I felt like probably nobody would even know me here.

      The door opened to the office floor. Colorful Christmas lights were glaring somewhere at the periphery of my vision. The two people guiding me either disappeared or walked really far away into the office.

      I was by myself in a corner of the office. It felt kind of like an elevator bank. But it was open to the rest of the office. I wasn't even sure why I was supposed to be in this office in the first place.

      A young man came up to greet me. I knew him! (I don't think I really know him IWL.) I was so relieved to know somebody.

      But the man didn't quite want to acknowledge that he recognized me, as well. Some people didn't like me, and the man didn't want to be seen by them as liking me. So he just treated me politely, but indifferently, like he'd treat anybody who came into the office.

      The man may have told me that my old boss would be here to meet with me momentarily. In the meantime, the man said, I could visit the museum on this floor. The man walked me to the wall behind me -- the wall with the doorway to the stairwell.

      Off to the left of the doorway was something that looked like a display. It was about the size of an animal display diorama in a museum.

      The "display" was of something like a space station. It looked fake, like one solid, plastic piece -- almost like a Star Wars toy! But some part of it, I knew, opened like a door. From there, you would walk into the museum. The museum would, I think, be about the size of a hallway, or the size of one exhibit room in a large museum.

      Off to the left of this "museum" was a long hallway. On the right wall of the hallway, from the waist up, were windows letting in a lot of yellow-white sunlight. The floor of the hallway was blue.

      I was now in "my apartment," which was rather large. The living area, which may have included the dining area, was three or four rooms long, with all the rooms opening into each other, only distinguished from another by the varying widths of their rectangles.

      The place was empty of furntiture. But there was stuff everywhere on the floor. Nothing was cluttered, and maybe everything had some kind of order. But it mostly felt like I just had all the stuff I liked just laying around everywhere.

      I'm not sure, but at this point, I think I looked like Lance Loud, from An American Family.



      (In this photo, Lance is standing, to the far right. The mother, Pat, is seated, in the center.)

      I had my phone to my ear, and maybe I was waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. I was looking down to the floor as I stepped over all the stuff I had laying around on the floor.

      I think I walked over some vinyl records, in their sleeves, and over a really old cassette tape player, the cassettes for which were bigger than eight-track tape cassettes.

      I probably started thinking about music. I thought of something that I really wanted to hear. I was going to play it. The music may now already have been playing. I still had the phone to my ear.

      But suddenly I realized -- I'm almost all out of money! It's totally wrong for me to stay in this place with no money. I can't sit here listening to music. I need to get all my stuff reduced and organized, so I can get the hell out of here!

      I may now have started putting together a plan for how to throw out a bunch of useless papers I didn't need, so I'd have less stuff to take with me once I left this place.

      I was now in a house which was supposed to be the Loud family house. At this point I definitely looked like Lance Loud. The house had two stories. I was up on the second floor, in a bedroom which had been converted into an office.

      I wasn't a member of the family. I was like a friend of some member of the family. But I had also been doing some kind of work for them. I had had tough times, and I needed to stay at their house. I think I had been staying at the house a couple of days, but now I was getting ready to leave.

      Pat, the mom from An American Family, came into the room. I was reclined -- somehow -- either against an office chair and some small filing cabinets, or on a bed.

      Pat sat down on something and told me that she knew I was planning on leaving the house. But she said she didn't think I actually had enough money yet to go out on my own. She said she was going to talk with the rest of the family about seeing whether I couldn't stay here a little while longer.

      Pat stood up and left. I looked through the doorway. There was a short, balcony-like hallway, with the stairs on the end closer to me. Again, I'm pretty sure I saw the colorful glare of Christmas lights somewhere.

      I was kind of relieved that Pat had asked me to stay. But I knew that I couldn't accept the offer, anyway. I didn't want any of the manlier men in the family to think I was just being a waste by sticking around here. I knew that if Pat made a good case for me, none of the men would say anything to my face. But I'd always have to deal with them showing me how they felt in other ways.

      I figured that what I would do, then, if Pat got the okay for me to stay, was just act like I was going to stay here, after all. Then, when nobody was looking, probably when everybody was gone from the house or asleep at night, I'd just pack up all my stuff and sneak out, leaving a letter saying why I'd gone.

      Dream #2

      I was walking down the hallway of some movie theatre. I was in a huge line either for tickets or to get into the theatre itself. The wall to my left was just a plain, beige-colored wall, possibly with some kind of wallpaper that looked like thickly-threaded linen.

      To my right was a wall that occasionally had narrow, tall windows, letting in the grey light of late afternoon. There were also occasional arcade games positioned along this wall. And somewhere there was a feeling of faint, flashing, multi-colored lights.

      There were a couple of people, probably a man and a woman, directly ahead of me, talking about a movie. The woman was doing most of the talking, and she sounded kind of arrogant and pretentious.

      Apparently the film the woman was talking about was a short film. The woman was speaking about the director of the film. The director may also have been a character in the film -- a comic kind of character who, even though he wasn't the main character, was supposed to "steal the show."

      I may have had an image of this guy in my head. He may have been a white guy, kind of rich-looking, wearing a really garish, multi-colored tuxedo, and a hat that looked either like a wizard's hat or a dunce cap, which was also multi-colored.

      I then looked off to my right, to a part of the right wall of the hallway that bent diagonally toward us, making the hallway narrower. On the sloping part of the wall was a poster for the movie the woman had just been talking about. The man was on the front, in his costume. He may have been waist-deep in popcorn.

      I realized that the film wasn't a short film. It was feature-length. And it was the film we were all heading in to see (or buying tickets for?) right now.

      I had been telling myself that I really didn't want to see the movie. I really didn't like the director. But now that I'd seen the poster, and now that I realized the movie was feature-length, I decided that I actually would like to see it.
    3. news of innocence; dress; helping michael collins; dark room

      by , 11-30-2011 at 02:12 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I sat in some huge room. I sat in a school desk, which was part of some U-shaped area of either desks or tables, maybe made out of wood. Other than this structure, the room was empty.

      The room had orange-tan colored walls, which were as tall as the walls of a cathedral. Along the top of the wall ran some kind of LED display, like an electronic ticker tape display that scrolls out news.

      The sign was saying that somebody, possibly Sir Isaac Newton, had confessed his guilt regarding something. This was something like a murder, or a rather contemporary, scandalous-sounding crime.

      Previously I'd been accused of this crime. Now that Sir Isaac Newton had confessed, I would no longer be considered guilty.

      A woman came up to the desk where I was sitting. She may have stood me up to lead me away. I may have been working at something on a computer. I may have been a little reluctant to leave the work.

      Dream #2

      In an almost completely dark room, there was a girl, maybe eleven or twelve years old, standing in an orange-peach colored dress. The dress was in the eighteenth century style, with the outer layer in a sheer kind of material. The girl may have had her back left leg lifted behind her, as if she were performing a ballet step.

      Dream #3

      I was in a dark space, almost like a small corridor on a large airplane or in a space station. I walked toward a dimly lit area near the "front" of this corridor.

      The astronaut Michael Collins was in the lit space, working at a small box of machinery. Collins looked young, and he may have been wearing a NASA jumpsuit.

      I may have worked with Collins. I figured I was going to help him with whatever he was doing right now.

      Dream #4

      I was alone in a bedroom. The room was kind of big and it had high walls. But it felt like a college dorm room, not a bedroom. There may have been a regular bed and at least one bunk bed.

      Suddenly the lights went out in the room. There was a tiny bit of light in the room, giving everything a very faint, very dim blue tint.

      I felt my way around in the room, waving my arms in front of me -- although I may actually have been doing this before the lights went out. I was frantically trying to turn the lights back on, either with the power of my own mind or by finding the light switch. But I couldn't do it.

      I told myself not to panic. I went to the door. Even though I was kind of disappointed with myself for being so afraid that I wanted to leave the room, I was going to leave. I couldn't think of how to get the light on, and I couldn't stand being in darkness.

      But when I got to the front door, I was also afraid. I felt like there were people out in the hallway (like the hallway of a college dorm hall) waiting to attack me.

      I looked through the peephole on my door. Outside I saw, leaning against the wall opposite the hall from my door, a young, blonde woman, pale skinned, very pretty, dressed in blue jeans and a black, turtleneck sweater. She leaned against the wall with her hands joined and placed behind her.

      (Note: I've been using being alone in an empty room as a dream-sign, hopefully to induce lucids. I noticed that many of my lucids have occurred when I was alone in a room. So I've had quite a few "alone in a room" dreams -- and I've still failed. Ugh.)