maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was watching a commercial that looked like it was from the 1970s. There was a black bakckground. In the foreground was a side-lit vending machine. The vending machine was basically a clear, plastic bubble atop a red, rectangular stand.

Inside the vending machine were little robots. They were toy robots. An announcer said that the robots were made in Japan. There was a close-up of the robots. They looked like they were made of wood rather than plastic. They seemed to have been made in two or three pieces. A main piece was c-shaped, like an old telephone receiver. Then there was a rectangular shape that revolved within the c-shape. Atop the c-shape was possibly a small, marble-like head. The toy was red with yellow squares running down it.

I found something wrong about the toys. They seemed to be projecting a strange message about the body to children. I couldn't believe that the toys were made in Japan. So I tried to get at the toys, for a closer look.

I was now on a stage, where there was blue light, like a fake sky, somewhere in the distance, blocked by a number of black scaffolding pieces and stage walls. I walked into a dark, black corner of what now may have been a room. I saw a vending machine. It was huge, and the top half of the sphere was missing, so I crawled right into the bowl of toys.

Somehow I found out that the robot toys had actually been made in Germany. But I didn't seem to be able to grab any of the robot toys. Instead I grabbed what I thought was a robot toy, but which ended up being a thin, long pillow with a pink, plushy casing around it. The pillow actually spoke if you either pressed some part of it or pulled a string.

The pillow had said something strange, so I tried to make it speak again. I pressed the button inside it and bent it and played with its string. I may finally have gotten it to say something, again something strange.

Dream #2

I was in a car with my mom, possibly on a grey day. We had driven up to some hotel, which looked more like a series of townhouses. I was apparently going to stay here for some amount of time, for something like a vacation involving my family, but not quite with my family.

We walked into the front office so I could get checked in. Along the left wall there was a whole display of pornographic programs for sale. I picked out one that looked particularly interesting to me, a lesbian porn flick. Apparently you had to get a big card, which was like a DVD, and then a smaller card, which was like a calling card.

The larger card was yellow. The smaller card was purple. On its front were photos of pin-up style girls. On it back was a description of the film. Some of the language was porn-like and hot. But eventually the language became the description of some piece of classical art in a museum. I thought, Don't they think that kind of language is a real turn-off?

I had walked up to the front desk, where my mom was talking with the worker, a pretty, Asian girl. Behind the desk and in some rooms off to the left, everything was dim. I was suddenly on the phone with my grandmother. I was telling her about some kind of bad thing that had happened in my family, something involving either my brother or sister getting really angry.

I was walking around in one of the side rooms, which was now like my mom's living room and kitchen combined. I was kind of getting sick of telling my grandmother about the incident. So I told her that my mom had lunch ready, so I was going to go and eat it. I could see the lunch -- something like a birthday cake with white frosting and blue sprinkles -- being set on a counter cluttered with books and other things.

My grandmother was already pestering me to call her back in five minutes. I told her I probably couldn't.

I had hung up the phone. My mom, my brother, and I were all in a room like a living room in an apartment. My brother pointed to a picture on the wall and asked if that was by Henry Darger. I said it was and then looked over my right shoulder at it.

The painting all seemed to have been made on wood. It looked like it was four large fragments, not quite the whole painting, all within a wood frame of the same thickness of the wood on which the painting was done. The painting was mostly white, and it depicted little girls on a battlefield.

My brother had been concerned that this was a fake Darger. I tried to assure him it wasn't. On the opposite wall, right near a corner around which was a dim room, was another Darger fragment. This was painted on a huge block of material that looked like cardboard. The painting depicted two children in a deep, green forest. But the two children were just bellies and legs -- nothing else. They looked like the bottom half of Homer Simpson, except shorter and with green pants.

The fragment was shaped like a patch of camouflage, and it hung like a lone puzzle piece in a much larger, rectangular frame of the same cardboard material. I looked closer at the thick fragment. All the colors of the painting appeared to go straight through the carboard, as if you could slice the carboard at any width and find the same picture.

My mom started getting hysterical. She said I wasn't paying attention to her problems, and that I'd pay for it. I acted like I didn't care. But then she said something like she had a lot of ways to make me pay, such as getting me arrested.

I turned away from her. We were now in something like a subway car. Three kind of trendyh, young men all walked up to me. I thought they were going to start trouble with me, as usual. But they asked me if I wasn't the guy who "that tall, blonde guy had hit on the head on the train." I said I was. They all kind of cheered me on. They said they had all been watching me, and that they thought I'd handled the situation really well.

I was trying really hard to remember the situation. But all I could remember was that I didn't get intimidated and I was ready to fight the guy, but that he had walked away. I made some body motions, swinging my body back and forth and holding my fists up. The guys mimicked me.

I was kind of hoping the guys would get off the train. I felt like the situation could easily change and that the guys would decide they didn't like me. I tried to change the subject. One of the guys was wearing a t-shirt with the Superman logo on it. So I asked the guys about Superman.