maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A woman stood in a field of grass. The grass may have gone up to the woman's knees, though it may actually only have gone up just past the woman's ankles.

The woman was pretty and young, with long, black hair. She may have been wearing a grey dress. She wore black, ankle-high boots.

The woman stomped one foot against the ground. There was a loud click on the ground, as if the woman had stomped on wood, or as if two wood blocks had beat together.

I had the thought, "A misstep in no direction."

Dream #2

Two aliens stepped out of the doorway on the underside of a silvery flying saucer. They stood out and looked over some landscape: either a field of tall, green grass or an atmosphere of hazy red and orange.

The two aliens wore shimmery, metallic outfits. Their helmets were tall and cylindrical, like huge toilet paper rolls painted silver. The helmets had two glowing, orange dots, side by side, on the front. The dots were either eyeholes or actual eyes.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I read two comic book stories which had an American comic book style, but which were put together in a manga-like book. But I think the book read from left to right, not from right to left. Both the stories involved a woman seducing a very young girl.

The first story I read was near the back of the book. It was very colorful, and it seemed to have Buddhist images somehow, something like mandalas or tankgas (?).

The second story I read was all done in black and white. It looked almost like a Love and Rockets comic. In this story, a woman had a little girl lying on the bed on her back. The little girl wore only a miniskirt. The woman holding something that looked like a small tea pot.

At some point the woman darted her body closer to the little girl. I could almost see the woman's movement, and I heard a sound like steam.

Dream #2

It was a clear, sunny day. I was running on a track with a group of other people. Almost all, if not all, of the other people were black. We were probably all in a race, although nothing about the race felt particularly focused.

At the first curve of the track I may have been in glaring sunlight. The track may have felt large and wide, and it may have felt like there were large grandstands on the final stretch of the track.

At some point there may have been a man behind me, taunting me and trying to intimidate me with his movements. I decided to run even faster (although we may hardly have been doing little more than jogging in the first place) to get away from the man.

I hit the second curve. The fist part of the second curve was shaded by tree canopies. The second part, going into the home stretch, was sunny.

The activity of the people on the track became even more unfocused, or more relaxed, than it had been before. There were some people just running back and forth across the width of the lanes. Other people were stretching or warming up on the grass.

I found myself being passed by a lot of people. I may have been wondering why I hadn't been running fast all along. Now I'd slowed down again, and I was mad at myself for having slowed down. I tried to speed up, but my legs were frozen. I could barely move them, and it was getting harder and harder to move them.

A woman passed me and ran through the end of the curve of the track, to the final stretch. She was tall, with light brown skin, a mucsly frame, and pale red-brown hair. She wore a white, bikini-style two-piece running suit. The bottom seemed a little loose on her. As she ran, her buttocks flexed really hard and became like big, tight spheres.

As I reached the end of the curve, I may have seen a shiny, silver UFO in the sky. It may have looked like a flying saucer with a silvery lighthouse-top attached to it. It may have shot out an orange-red ray.

(Side note: I'm kind of doubtful about the image of the UFO. In other words, I'm not sure if it was part of my dream or something that came in after I woke. But the image was so strongly "there" that I put it in my journal.

Last night I went to bed reading the book Measure of Madness by Cheryl Paradis. It's a series of stories from Dr. Paradis' career as a forensic psychologist. In one of the stories, a man shoots a couple of sanitation workers because he thinks they're aliens.

I think my sight of the UFO in or after the dream was somehow influenced by that story.)

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in an alien spacecraft. The interior of the craft was very nice. It had molded, rounded walls colored cream-white and eggshell-brown. The room was round, with a round, central column, which may have served as some kind of control center.

There may have been a window somewhere, which I may have been looking out of at some point. We were probably at some high elevation, though still in the atmosphere of whatever planet we were on, probably Earth.

I was remembering some conversation or having some conversation in my head. It had something to do with aliens. There was some kind of idea that aliens were taking or duplicating people's identities or else using people for their identities in order to do something.

Something about the whole argument which had been made to me regarding the aliens didn't make sense. I tried to express the idea.

I now saw a room of cars -- kind of like one of the prize-display stages for the TV game show The Price Is Right. There were three cars of different sizes and quality. I was making an argument using cars as a metaphor for identities. I was trying to make a point that aliens wouldn't use human bodies for identities, since they'd easily be able to a lot more with their own, much more advanced, bodies.

But I also seemed to be trying to make some argument that aliens were actually using cars' identities in some way, instead of using people's identities. Some cars weren't cars. They were actually aliens disguised as cars.

At this point, the interior of the alien spacecraft, instead of being all smooth walls, had a number of rooms like the room with the cars in it. I don't know if all the rooms had cars in them.

(Side notes: Yesterday I went to the Museum of Modern Art and watched documentaries for -- well, from 1:30 PM until 10 PM.

One showing had two documentaries: one about the history of General Motors destroying the trolley car industry so it could artificially create demand for cars in the United States; the other about General Electric's nuclear weapons business and the effects it had on an upstate New York town.

The General Motors documentary struck me deeply because, growing up as a suburbanite in America, a car was just a thing I had to have once I became 16. It was part of my identity. But, in addition, I feel very strongly that I identify with cars in my dreams. Cars stand for my identity in my dreams.

But -- if you look at Bruno Bettelheim's book The Empty Fortress, for example, the autistic children identify with cars or identify cars as beings that can care for them and nurture them as children.

So, it seems like, despite the demand for cars being pretty nefariously and artificially created by a small group of rich men, cars also came to stand, rather quickly, for human identity.

The second documentary outlined the role General Electric played in the arms race, how it carelessly dealt with its nuclear waste, and how it then tried to hide all this stuff from the public. The story reminded me, oddly, of all the stories of UFOs in the United States and the stories of government conspiracies to cover up the truth about UFOs.

Well, I don't think it's anything new to assert that a lot of the fervor around UFOs and conspiracy theories regarding UFOs was, at least some of the time, derived less from actual UFOs and more from the collective understanding in the United States that the government, military, and corporate structure were doing things without telling us about it, and that we probably wouldn't approve of these things if we knew about them. You can read Jim Marrs' books to get more of an idea about that.

So I think my dream combined these issues, which are somewhat large, emotional issues for my little, squirrely brain, and fashioned them into my dream.)