maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some run-down part of some big town. I was on a block with thin apartment buildings. The outsides of the buildings were grey, like they were either of unpainted cinder block or had their paint chipped off or worn off. It was daytime, and the light seemed kind of yellowy-pale and humid.

I was with a group of people. We all seemed to be in a line, and we were all being directed into one of the apartment complexes. I understood that we had all been sought out by some group and brought here.

I was now with the group that was seeking us out. They were seeking out Russians. But I wasn't a Russian. I had a bad feeling that I was simply part of their operation, kind of disguised as one of the people being sought, but that I was actually helping catch the people and get them confined in this one apartment building.

I was now with a line of Russian men, heading into this apartment building. One of the men in front of me was blonde, with a short haircut and pale skin. We got inside. The door opened directly to a dark, narrow, winding stairwell.

There was some kind of military guy just inside. He looked to be maybe in his 40s, a bit overweight, with a pudgy face, sweaty, and stubble-covered. He wore some kind of camouflage trenchcoat and one of those thick, round hats with the fur lining and earflaps.

I asked the man what I was doing here, what the Russians were here for, and if I really needed to be a part of this. The man raised a finger to his lips and said, "Sh... Just wait here until they're all upstairs. Act like you're going upstairs, too. Then, once they're all upstairs, just leave through the front door. We want to make sure we have them all here for the trial. As long as they think you're going, they'll go, too."

I now felt really terrible -- even though I definitely planned to leave this place as soon as I could. But it was like all the Russians had to think I was going with them, or else they wouldn't go. So I had to trick them into thinking I was going, too. But I wasn't. Why was I helping these military people capture these people?

I didn't quite feel like I could leave. Now that I knew there was going to be a trial, I wanted to see what it was going to be about. So I'd stay for that.

The trial took place in a room on the first floor, just off from the stairwell. The room was short, but kind of wide. It was barren, with dirty, concrete floors and plain, white walls. The light was incandescent, but it also felt cold and barren. There was a group of officials seated at a long folding table to my left. On the other side of the room was a vague group of people. Some were people being judged. Some were attorneys.

Someone had told me, again, that I could come in and see what the trial was all about. They told me that I could actually even help them out with the trial. I didn't want to help out with the trial, but I suddenly found myself doing so.

I stood out on the floor, giving some kind of random speech. I was trying to make myself look like I was defending the Russians. But what I was really doing was making them feel more comfortable, so they'd give up as much information as possible.

Dream #2

There was a man in some part of the world like Vietnam. I'm not sure what the time period was. It seemed like nowadays, or maybe even a little bit into the future. The man had done some spy-like thing, probably against America. He had been discovered. But he was already beginning to make a quick getaway.

The man looked like a stereotypical "Sgt. Rock" type of soldier. He wore a camouflage uniform, a rounded helmet with something like netting over it, and he had a muscular face and stubble. He may even have been smoking a cigarette.

The man was now getting into something like a spaceship. It was right next to some kind of hut on stilts. The spaceship looked like an old, 1950s style rocket, with the elliptical body and tailfins and everything. But it was made of some really silvery material.

The man had climbed into some kind of side door or hatch high up on the ship, possibly via some high window, or even the roof, of the hut. There were now a lot of rushing and booming sounds.

The space shuttle seemed to be lifting off. But now an Asian-looking woman, who was actually a spy for the American side, was calling out the window of the hut for the man. She had been assigned to get him back so that the Americans could put him on trial for whatever his spy activity had been. So she was pretending that she loved him and she didn't want him to go.

At this point I may have seen from the man's point of view. The woman seemed huge, like she was stretching all the way up into the air to pull me down. Her cries also seemed really terrifying somehow, like supernatural moans. For some reason, either I or the soldier decided to stay, since the woman loved either me or the soldier.

Dream #3

There were a group of people trying to fight some kind of alien menace. I'm not really sure what it was. The group was maybe a couple of guys and a girl.

One of the guys was separated from the rest of the group. He ended up finding the body of a woman who was thought to be in on the aliens' plans. But he didn't know that his discovery of the woman's body was planned.

The woman was actually an alien. The aliens were actually like robots. But the robots were made out of this purple mold, which was something like a living machine that could shape itself in various ways.

The man had done something to the woman, possibly cutting her open with a scalpel for some reason. A piece of the purple mold squirted out of the woman's body and onto the man's left eye.

The man didn't pay it any attention: it wasn't much. But the mold worked its way behind the man's eye and into his brain. I knew this meant that the mold would proliferate in the man's brain and body, eventually turning him into a robot.

Later the rest of the man's group would (or did?) find the man. They would (or did) think, wrongly, that the man was fine, when he actually was an alien robot, ready to spread the mold into other human bodies.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was near "my car" in the woods. It was almost night. The sky was a dull, dark blue. I was all alone.

I may have been planning to sleep in my car for tonight and, perhaps, for a number of nights. I may not, though, have thought this was the right place to sleep. I may have been planning to drive my car somewhere else.

At some other point I remembered one of my male friends talking about living in some other town. He was complaining about what a boring town it was to live in.

He said, "The thing is, it doesn't have a road that leads directly out of town, up to the mountains. You have to take all these roads that wind around town. It's really hard not to stay stuck in town. And that gets really boring.

"Not like Boston. Boston has a road that leads right out of town! It's easy to get out of town and have fun."

At some point I saw a view of "Boston:" a town at the base of some deep-green mountain range, with its "main road" running along the side of the town and a little bit up the slope of mountains. There may have been houses lining one side of the road.

I thought how I didn't quite agree with my friend. I thought the town I was thinking of sleeping or spending some time in was fine. But I didn't want to disagree with my friend and look uncool (even though my friend wasn't really around, and I was just "remembering" a conversation with him).

I may now have been standing on the outskirts of a pretty big mountain town. I stood in the parking lot of some hotel. The hotel building looked kind of like a restaurant building.

(I've seen a building very much like this, in a space very much like this, in at least one other dream.)

Dream #2

I was in some bookstore. The bookstore was huge and mazelike. After winding my way through a few areas, I found myself at a manga section.

There were two thin, Japanese men shelving some books near the manga section. They both had a mild intellectual look, with casual, short haircuts, big eyeglasses, and nice, button-up shirts. They spoke back and forth with each other in Japanese.

I didn't want the guys to think I was just another American who only knew about Japanese culture through manga and j-pop. But I was also really curious about what manga the store had. In particular, I was looking for a copy of Tezuka's Phoenix series.

When I got over to the manga shelves, I heard the men laugh back and forth with each other. I "understood" their Japanese. They were basically saying exactly what I didn't want them to think about me. I got ashamed and thought I would leave the section. But I figured if I was already here, I might as well stay.

But I got bored pretty quick. It was all a lot of new manga. I had been looking for some really old, classic manga. Some of this stuff didn't even look like manga. It looked like airbrushed versions of American comic books with medieval European themes. Some of the books were tall, thin paperbacks with really glossy covers.