maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was leaving "my mother's house." It may have been a grey day, and there may have been snow on the ground. I stood right outside the front door. My mom stood just inside.

I told my mom I loved her. I gave her a hug. My mom seemed really short. When I hugged her, it felt like I was breaking her spine, or like I had hugged her in such a way as to feel a part of her spine that had already been broken.

I walked to the car. As I did, I thought about a small cup of ice cream I had in the back seat of the car. It was like I still had the taste of the ice cream, or even some actual ice cream, in my mouth.

In my mind's eye, I saw the ice cream sitting in the back seat. The ice cream was kind of melted and creamy, and it had some kind of big, marshmallow-shaped, but colorful and jelly-like, things in it. The spoon in the cup seemed to be coated with the melted ice cream.

Apparently my grandmother was driving me to the airport. But the car we were taking was more like one my mom would drive. It was a small hatchback, kind of old looking. It was messy on the inside and the outside. The outside was kind of grimy and greasy. The inside was full of old garbage and fast food containers and stuff.

I was kind of disgusted that I'd kept my ice cream in the messy back seat. I thought it might not be a good idea for me to eat the ice cream.

I walked up to the driver's side of the car. My grandma was still standing outside the car, with the door wide open. As I walked up to my grandma I either thought to myself or asked out loud if I'd showed my mom well enough that I cared about her.

I was in the car, on the passenger side, riding through a kind of busy part of a suburban town, with either my grandma or some man driving the car. It was now black night.

The driver told me, "You showed your mom you cared about her. And the fact that you're worried about it shows that you care a lot more than a lot of people do nowadays."

We got stuck in traffic on some kind of quaint-looking, Main Street type area that was all decked out in lights, as if for Christmas. We kind of inched through the traffic and then ended up turning right on a side street and up a hill into something like a residential area.

As we were doing this, the driver, now most likely a man, continued, "That reminds me of a project I was reading about. People were making Christmas cards to send to the soldiers. But a lot of the people making the cards thought it would be good to send cards with anti-war messages on them.

"And that's what I mean about care. The people over there don't need to hear somebody telling them 'NO WAR.' They need us to tell them, 'We're thinking about you, and we hope you're doing well.'"

We had gotten up to the top of the hill and were now sitting on the right end of a long conference table. We were apparently inside a room. The room had fluorescent lighting. There was also a wall-sized bookshelf that I was looking straight at.

But it was also somehow like we were in a cafe with a big window, or as if we were actually floating out over the top of the hill, looking down to the Main Street area. It was like, even as I was looking straight at the bookshelf, I also saw the town below.

The man had gotten onto the topic of two books. Both books were about economics. One book was written by someone I didn't know. The other was written by Warren Buffett. The man seemed to be talking more about the book by the other guy. He then ended up talking about something extremely interesting and insightful (which, of course, I forgot).

As the man spoke about the really interesting stuff, I realized how nice he looked. He was white, with well-groomed, white hair. He wore a nice suit with a tan jacket, a subdued blue shirt, and a somewhat colorful (peach? pink?) tie. His skin was deeply tanned. His face was kind of thin and angular. But his complexion mesmerized me. It was perfect!

I then asked the man, "Who did you say made that comment? Did you say it was Warren Buffett or the other guy?"

The man said, "No. That was from Warren Buffett's new book."

I thought to myself that I needed to get Buffett's new book. I seemed to keep getting Buffett somehow confused with Alan Greenspan. But I could see the cover of Buffett's new book. It kind of looked like a modern cover of Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man.

The book wasn't an autobiography. It was actually a book on economic theory. I thought, "This is exactly what I've been looking for!" The man and I spoke back and forth for a bit on how odd it was that everybody didn't know about this book. It apparently wasn't selling much at all.

I looked down and to my left. I could see the conference table. But, again, I could "see through" the table and the room, outside and down the hill, to the lit-up Main Street area.

As I looked at the table, I was kind of hunched down and over some sheet (or pad?) of notebook paper. I scrawled on the piece of paper, in a very sloppy version of cursive, either the word "Feed" or the word "Feel."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a room like a bedroom. Something about the room seemed very stage-like. The room had concrete floors or floors like a stage. I sat at a table. There was also something in the room that looked like a bunk bed. It may just have been a wooden cube that was as tall as a bunk bed.

I stood up and pulled something off of the cube. It was a mannequin without a head. It may actually just have been a torso. It was larger than life-size, maybe a lot larger. It was wood, with thick graining visible, and it was painted some kind of dark, but kind of transparent, shade of red.

I lay the mannequin on the floor. I began whipping it and stomping it. Somehow it was a living thing, and I may have injured it terribly or killed it. I may have then left the room. I may have reflected on what I'd done. I hadn't ever thought I could be so cruel. I think I felt like I must have been directed into the cruelty in some way. The only explanation for my cruelty, I thought, was that someone else had made me do it.

I was now back in the room, thinking the same thoughts. I began whipping the top of the wooden cube. The whip I used had a big, black, iron hook at the end of it. Eventually the hook pulled a wooden mannequin head into my view. The mannequin head apparently belonged to the mannequin body I had just beat and killed. I kept whipping the mannequin head, and I knew I would knock the head off the wooden cube pretty soon.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some kind of a small performance space. There were folding chairs all arranged before a small stage. There may have been 50 or 75 chairs. The floors were wood. The area with the chairs was dim. I stood at the back of this area.

The space behind the chairs was empty and lit, possibly with a combination of incandescent and fluorescent lights, as if the overhead light were incandescent, but a light from some other room were shining into the space as well. An adult woman was teaching a little girl how to do some kind of traditional dance. The girl may have been dressed in a dark pink leotard and some kind of sash that gave her a traditional look.

I stood there for a moment watching the little girl dance. The woman then told me that the girl wasn't ready to perform yet. The woman would give her a bit more rehearsal and then let me watch her. So it would be best if I didn't watch her right now. I assented and walked away. The woman may then have started training another girl or a couple of boys and girls.

I sat in the seats at the very front. I was the only person in the audience. I sat there in the dark, looking at the stage. There was some kind of set on the stage, maybe colored blue and gold-orange. At some point a black woman and her son sat down in the row behind me and to my left.

Somehow the idea of food came up. The boy wanted some kind of sweet food, maybet sorbet, from a makeshift concession stand which had been right where I was standing while I had been watching the girl dance. The boy told his mom, "It sure is good we waited, isn't it? Now the sorbet is ready, and we get it for free!"

I realized that we had been given tickets for free food from the snack bar. The tickets were like red, carbdoard circus tickets. But we'd had to wait until a certain time before the food was given out for free.

I stood up to get some food. For some reason I felt like I needed to beat the son to the makeshift concession stand, which may just have been a big, red cooler and some cheapish folding screen, with the dance instructor lady pulling food out of the cooler.

But I now heard an announcement on an overhead speaker. A woman's voice said, "The food being handed out right now is only rotten food." I understood that the timing of the good food being handed out was messed up. So I headed back to my seat to wait for the good food to start being offered.

But before I got to my seat, I started seeing things as if I were a camera. My view floated to a few different adults. At each person, the view would freeze and some little screen-title would pop up, saying who the person was. The people were all kind of young, edgy, and cool. They posed as a rock band. But they were really a group of spies. There were one woman and two or three men.

One man I remember sat in some booth like a shop. He sat behind a turntable, as if he were a DJ. He was white, with red-blonde hair and chunky, black-rimmed eyeglasses. He wore a striped shirt.

Behind the man were all kinds of circular objects, like plates or records. They were all colored differently, and each had some variation of a wave-like pattern running through it. One circle was yellow. Another was grey, with a dark grey squiggle-wave humping up in the center. Another was blue, with some kind of white, shell-like cloud pattern in the center.

Another member of the band was either a black man or an Asian woman who sat in the front row and far left side of the folding chairs. I think at first he was a really nice looking black man. Then my view went through the other members again. Then when I got back to him, he was a really cute Asian girl.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A girl was riding a long motorcycle (which may also somehow have been a horse) along a beach-like area which bordered a jungle and which may have had something like a concrete path running along it. The girl looked like my friend FA, except that she was possibly a little girl. The motorcycle was long, much bigger than usual, and it was hot pink.

The girl did a pop-a-wheelie on the bike/horse. The bike/horse reared too far back and tumbled backwards. The girl fell off the bike. She was severely injured. Two men with dark, coppery skin and black hair ran up to the girl to see if she was okay. She seemed to be in terrible shape and she had a broken leg.

A third man ran out of the jungle. He had a cell phone in his hands. I thought he was going to call the police. But instead he just kind of conferred with the other men. He figured he'd load up the girl in a wheelbarrow and push her to the hospital.

I was kind of frustrated by all this. I thought the men should be calling 911. I was now in the scene. The girl was in the wheelbarrow. She was wrapped up in a lot of old-looking grey blankets. She was so wrapped up that she couldn't be seen at all. I began pushing the woman to the hospital.

I was pushing the wheelbarrow along a concrete path on a university campus. The campus had a lot of lawn between the buildings, and the lawn was all shaded over by the thick canopies of tall trees. I saw a big, red brick building with a white facade and columns in the distance. I thought that was the hospital.

At an intersection on walkways, I stopped. A huge, red fire tuck was coming from my right. As I saw it approaching, I actually pushed the woman out into the intersection. I figured the truck would see us and stop. But it didn't care about us and wasn't going to stop. So I pulled the wheelbarrow back, let the truck pass, then went on.

I now realized the big building wasn't a hospital. It was a police station. I had pushed the woman inside the police station. It looked like a garage, but it was lit beautifully, like for a Broadway play. There was one man hunched over a small box on the floor, working away.

I tried to get the man to look at the woman. But I didn't want to be too pushy and get in trouble with the cops. But after a moment, a female cop came up to us. The cop was tall, heavy set, with feathered, blonde hair, tan skin, and a really red face. She asked me what was wrong with the woman. She then gave me some advice about what to tell them at the hospital, once I got there. It was something about making sure they did the job right and didn't rip me off.

I was now with a group of friends in some small room. The room was some other place I'd come to for help. The people there were co-workers of mine. The room was like a kind of dumpy office room in a community center or church. There was a potted palm somewhere.

One of the friends with me started answering questions that one of my co-workers, CB, was asking. CB was asking a lot of questions, not out of concern, but mostly because he was trying to reassure himself that the injured woman's experience wasn't more intense than his own personal experiences.

Eventually we were told to go somewhere else, like a hospital. As we were leaving, the place became like a cafeteria. I figured I should buy the woman some food, since she was probably hungry. I was in some small, crowded hallway part of the cafeteria. One of my friends, a short female, stood right in front of me, as if waiting for instruction.

Somehow I had bought two apples. We were now outside, on a concrete walkway on a college campus. The campus was rather active with students. My friends and I were pushing the woman to the hospital. But I decided I should stop to feed the woman.

I managed to pull the woman out of the wheelbarrow. She was still wrapped up in all the blankets. I unwrapped a blanket near the woman's face and held out an apple.The woman didn't seem to be responding. I was a little worried.

Another female friend knelt down in front of me and told me that the woman may have died. I couldn't believe it was so. I looked at the apple I was holding. It was rotten on one side. Eventually I heard bites being taken out of the other side. Then the apple was eaten all the way through, to the side I was holding. So the girl was alive!

The girl was completely unwrapped. I was holding her in my arms. But she was completely invisible.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

Two kind of burly, fat, white guys managed to rape two guys and a woman. I saw the men and women close up, as if I were right near their faces as they were getting raped (all three at once?). I wanted to stop the men from raping the people, but I was on some kind of drugs, and I was too numb or dumb to do anything. Plus, I was probably also afraid of the whole situation.

I later heard or thought over the story of the men. They had done something like this before. They may have been something like bodyguards. They always guarded one particular celebrity. The celebrity was either a young man or a boy, and he was possibly very pretty. The celebrity didn't have much in the way of a personality. He was kind of a pretty face and not much else. But his father was possibly really mean to the security guards.

So, at this time in the past, the bodyguards heard that the father was going to be gone and that another celebrity, possibly male as well, was coming to visit the first celebrity. So, to revenge themselves on the father, the bodyguards raped the visiting celebrity while the first father was away.

For some reason I thought, Well that kind of makes sense. That was revenge. But this time, it doesn't make sense at all.

I was now outside in the daytime. I was in a place that looked like an Ancient Greek plaza. There was a long, rectangular fountain-pool running along one side of the plaza. The plaza seemed to be enclosed by stone walls.

A woman was walking in the pool. The water went up to about mid-calf on her. The woman was young, white, kind of cute, with short, red hair. She wore a long, white toga and possibly a wreath around her head. The wreath may have included small fruits.

This woman was the woman who had gotten raped. But now it was like she hadn't quite gotten raped, but like she had only gotten harrassed a bit while the two men had gotten raped. The girl seemed to remember nothing. She said she was so hung over from last night's party. She had apparently had a lot of booze and drugs.

The woman walked back and forth in the pool, and I followed her. I didn't feel like I deserved to talk to her. After all, I hadn't been able to protect her from the men.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some kind of big building like a museum. The building seemed to have a couple of floors, the upper floor and lower floor visible to each other. The lower floor was far down from the upper floor and was connected to it by a bunch of ramps. The walls were fronted by brown wood panels, which were set aslant from the real walls. Mild lights beamed down from the high ceiling.

I was on the upper floor, but I was talking to an old lady who stood in front of some painting down on the lower floor. The old lady had grey hair in a big perm. She may have also been wearing a blue, polyester suit, like from the 1970s.

I was apparently either a Nazi or Jewish. Somebody, not in the museum, had said something degrading about me because of what I was. The person who insulted me may have been something like a Nazi.

I was complaining to the lady. The old lady told me something like I should go right now to confront the person who had insulted me before. She told me something very specific to tell him. It may have involved dropping her name.

I may then have imagined a view of me walking outside, into the black night, in some kind of suburban area. I then imagined, without sound, being in some kind of public setting and standing before a black man, as if I were in the process of telling him to stop degrading my Nazi or Jewish character.

Dream #2

Some man had died. Something about this had caused a ghost or demon to occupy the man's place. So now there was some kind of exorcism being performed.

It was black night. A black man was chasing the ghost, who looked like Debbie Harry. The black man was dressed in some kind of outfit with a straw-woven chest plate made out of long, white beads and a tall headress that looked something like a fountain made out of straw and grass. The man kept hitting Debbie Harry on the head with what looked like drumsticks with padded tops.

The man was chasing the ghost along a weird structure that was like a maze of ramps made out of wooden planks, like a bunch of wooden bridge-like ramps. There were flat areas as well, also made out of the wooden bridge-like structures. The ramps and flat areas were all lit up by light bulbs like the light bulbs on amusement park rides.

The wooden structure was as big as a mansion or an apartment building. It seemed to be on the shore of a beach, at the edge of some kind of dense jungle.

The ghost may finally have run into some high up, central area of the structure. The central area was really lit up with a bunch of lights. It was either something like an altar or a throne.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a kitchen in a small suburban house at night. The kitchen was dim, as if lit only by a small fluorescent light from some place like over the counter or the sink. A small oval table filled up most of the kitchen. The kitchen opened directly to the living room and gave a straight view to the house's front door, which was open.

I seem to have seen everything from a point of view as if I were sitting on the floor or as if I were a small child standing near the table.

There were a lot of people in the kitchen. Some of them were probably my family members. Others were possibly friends of my family members, but I'm pretty sure I didn't know them. We were celebrating some kind of Asian ceremonial dinner.

My old friend L stood up and said that her husband was in the bedroom. Apparently he was too sick to come out into the kitchen with the rest of us. But he was still going to celebrate the Asian ceremony. I could see him in bed, wearing pale blue, 1950s style pajamas, sitting in a big, fluffy bed, possibly even with an old style ice pack on his head and a thermometer in his mouth.

L had prepared a whole tray of dinner items for her husband. The tray was silver, and there was a tall, thin, silver coffee pot on it. L herself was dressed in an "Asian-style" (???) black, silk mini-dress. The dress was sparsely adorned along the chest with gleaming squares of red and green glass or jewels. At the waist there were squares of diamonds (?) which were arranged to look like a thick belt.

L looked so beautiful, and her dress' adornments gleamed so brightly that everybody was stunned into silence as she walked out of the kitchen. In the living room she turned left and walked out of sight. One guy in particular, possibly a fattish, oldish man, had his mouth wide open in arousal.

There seemed to be much fewer people in the kitchen now. In fact, it may have been just my mom, one other person, and I. I now saw a line of older, Asian men walking into the house and filing into the kitchen. There were three or four men.

The men wore long, slender robes of a thin material like bed sheets. The robes were kind of neutral colors, like pale, light brown. They had kind of standard, paisley-like designs, like you might see on a bandana. The men also wore headdresses that seemed to be made out of something like wicker or twisted twigs. The headdresses were like three or four tall loops that tiered upward to look something like crowns. At least one of the men also wore eyeglasses.

Despite this kind of drab appearance, something about the Asian men seemed to be iridescent and gleaming, as if just a thin patina of some kind of purple, pink, and blue material were coating the crowns and possibly also the robes. I didn't know whether to be impressed by or disappointed by the men.

I ended up walking away from the table and into the living room as my mom began speaking with the men, possibly doing something like making arrangements for whatever kind of ceremony they might be performing for everybody at the house. As I walked away from the table I was probably seeing from the viewpoint of a small child.

I could hear my mom talking as I walked into the living room. When I got into the living room, it was daytime. The living room was kind of full of bright daylight. I turned left. I now saw from my adult height. One of my uncles possibly sat in a recliner chair at the left side of the room.

My mom was still in the kitchen, talking with someone like my uncle. I could hear her as if she were speaking from within the back of my head. She was complaining about my uncle (as if she weren't speaking to him!). She said, "I have a lot of energy to do things. Not like him. Because I don't do all those things he does, like listen to rock music and write weird stories on the internet."

I felt guilty because I listen to rock music and write stories on the internet. So I felt like maybe I was wasting my energy instead of doing useful things. I may have started looking at a tall, thin bookcase which was near the front door.

I now had a view of a scene like from a movie. There were two male police officers. They were plainclothes detectives, and they were dressed in suits, possibly 1970s style suits. One cop was black. The other cop was Mexican, and may have looked like a fat, worn-out version of Jimmy Smits.

One of the cops got shot in the stomach. The other cop seemed to be really surprised by this, and he opened and puckered his mouth as if he himself had gotten shot in the stomach.

Dream #2

I was in a room that was like a copy room in an office. But it also seemed to be part of some building in the woods, like a ranger center in a national park. There was a window letting in a moderate amount of natural light. But there were no lights on in the room, I think. The room itself may have been pretty cluttered. There was even a cot-like bed near the door into the hallway of the office.

I stood by the copier, waiting for some printing job of mine to come out. Apparently I was waiting for some kind of series of pages of charts or tables for a report that my boss was putting out.

The job itself was four pages long, each page with two tables. The tables themselves may have consisted of a title section and a body. But both the title and body were just empty rectangles. There were paragraphs of description between each table. A number of copies were being printed out, but they were interspersed with two other jobs that some other people at the office were printing out.

Both of the other jobs were being printed in color. They had green lettering. One just appeared to be the print out of a Power Point presentation -- although it seemed like it was only the back pages of the presentation: all the legal disclosures "fine print." The other report seemed to be written all in Arabic. It may have been a full report, including maps (of Africa?), but it also included a lot of "fine print" pages, also in Arabic.

The jobs were all being printed out so randomly that I had to sift through all the pages just to find my pages. I was getting so tired that I actually sat down in a small, cot-like chair right next to the copier's feed area and slouched far back while shuffling through the loads of paper that kept coming out.

I was apparently wearing khaki shorts and no shirt. My pale blue shirt, which I wear to bed at night, was laying somewhere, as if I had been wearing it, but I had taken it off. Also, at some point, bright, fluorescent lights were on in the copy room.

As I shuffled through the loads of paper, I became really interested in the report written in Arabic. I couldn't understand any of it, obviously, but it seemed to be about something really interesting.

Suddenly my boss opened the door. The chair was so close to the door that my boss couldn't open the door all the way. He looked in and saw what I was doing -- looking through all these other reports. He started to ask me about something work-related. But, disgusted with me, he stopped talking and just shut the door.

I felt bad for having been looking at the other reports. But I then wondered why I should feel bad. My boss had set me to the task of retrieving all these pages. And that's what I was doing. They were just all coming out so randomly that I had begun to occupy myself with other stuff in the meantime.

But, still, feeling guilty, I stood up and walked around in the copy room, as if walking around would somehow prove that I was actually working. The lights were off again in the copy room, and only natural light from the window came in.

I could now hear my boss complaining to someone, possibly one of his bosses, about how he had discovered me in the copy room, wearing shorts and no shirt. I suddenly became conscious of the weirdness of my attire, even though I had been aware of my attire before. I wondered how I could have worn my night time shorts and shirt to work, and what would have made me take off my shirt altogether.

There was apparently a back door to the copy room now. It was open. I looked out. There was something like a forest scene: pine trees, and grey, kind of chilly light.

I looked back into the copy room to find my shirt. I may have found it on the bed. I walked over to the bed. The bed was now full of food. A lot of the food was stuff like snack bars and yogurt-covered fruit and nuts and stuff. Some of the snack bars were like oatmeal with red jelly. There were also Ziploc bags and brown paper lunch bags on the table. There may also have been some kind of padded carrying bags.

I realized that I had to put together a few lunches, at least for myself. It wasn't quite like I was going on a hiking trip, but it was like I was going away for a while, and possibly into the woods. I may have been going with a group of friends. I started to focus on the task of putting the lunches together. I wondered if I would do a good job.

I was now standing next to my sister. My sister's best friend A was also in the room. My sister may have said something. I may have made a really careless comment that made my sister feel really bad about herself. I realized as soon as I'd said it that I shouldn't have said it.

My sister made a weird comment, in a cheerful tone, regarding the way people feel when people make bad comments about them. It was like my sister wasn't acknowledging -- maybe didn't even realize -- the bad thing I'd said. But she was expressing almost exactly my guilty feelings after what I'd said.

I looked at my sister. She was really short and really fat. She had a scrunched in, extremely solid-looking face, which looked like the face of A's mother, except that it was deep red and rock hard. I felt really bad, because I felt like my statement may have made my sister look like this.

It was now like the room was just a bedroom-sized room with just the bed in it. The back door still opened out to the forest. The floor was white tile. My mom now came into the room at some point and began complaining about my sister. I walked out of the room at some point. I walked into a hallway which may have led to a living room. I then came back into the room.

For some reason my sister and A had taken over the task of putting the lunches together. But they may actually have stopped making the lunches. We were still going away into the mountains. But it was also like we weren't going into the mountains. We were no longer going outside.

My sister explained. She said she'd heard some kind of siren-like or buzzing noise outside. This noise was something like either a man-made alarm or some other kind of indicator of a dangerous situation. My sister said, "It sound like there's going to be a lot of radiation outside. I thought we shouldn't go out there. I even think this might be the end of everything for us. There might be too much radiation in the air."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a cabin in the woods with my old friend, M. It may have been night at first. We were looking out a wall-sized window at the forest landscape. It was like the window was about 2 or 3 meters above ground-level. There was some other shack-like structure standing just beyond the house.

The scene became light, as if the time quickly went from night to early morning. As it did, M and I spoke about the shack. Apparently there were trees growing out of the top of the shack. They were kind of thin and they didn't have much of a canopy.

M and I said that before the event, something like a flood or an earthquake, we hadn't been aware of the trees. But they had been there all along. But after the flood, we were definitely aware of the trees growing out of the shack. In my mind's eye I saw the waters of the flood quickly subsiding down the sides of the shack.

I now saw someting like a beaver gnawing away at one of the tree trunks. The beaver was enormous -- maybe 2 meters long. It had big, black eyes, like a teddy bear. I looked away from the window, as if I had to go do something else, something like packing up to leave the cabin.

I wondered about the beaver. The beaver had been so huge and the tree trunk so thin that it seemed to me the beaver should have been able to have chewed all the way through the tree before I had looked away. But it hadn't been able to do so. I thought that maybe the tree was bigger than I'd thought it was.

I now looked to the opposite side of the cabin. There was another wall-sized window, this one level with the ground. The light was much brighter. It appeared to be a grey day.

Just outside the window there was a car which was parked so its right side faced the window. Between the car and the window there lay a huge, brown, furry animal. It was like the beaver on top of the cabin, but it was also more like a bear.

M had become my mother. This was my mother's cabin. I turned to my mom, who was still looking out the other window. I asked her something about these weird animals. She replied in some matter of fact way. She then made some comment about huge wolves that were attacking people.

I looked back to the window with the car. I now noticed that just inside the cabin, right by the window, there was another big, brown, beaver-like animal curled up on the floor. It was like some kind of pet, like a cat.

Behind the car there was another weird animal. This one was like a huge coyote or a bobcat. But it was all black. Its eyes were huge and black, again, like teddy-bear eyes. Its fur was kind of long and disshevelled, but soft looking, almost like pulled-out cotton candy.

I wondered if this animal was dangerous, like the wolves my mom had been talking about. But it occurred to me that this black animal was actually a cat-like animal. A wolf would be more of a dog-like animal.

I had to go outside to put my stuff into the car so I could leave. But I was kind of afraid to. I was afraid of some of the wolves showing up and attacking me. It then occurred to me that as long as the black animal was around, no wolves would attack.

Apparently my brother and sister were in the car. They had been waiting for me to come to the car so we could leave. I was now walking out of some bedroom with some stuff. I may have been holding something (like wadded up tissue?) to my chest. The room seemed to have a greenish tint to it, as if from light coming in through dim curtains and reflecting against light-green walls.

As I was heading to the front door of the cabin, my mom started complaining to me about how I had taken so long to get ready that I had missed the ideal opportunity for getting back home. The drive home would be twelve hours long. If we had left earlier, we would have been able to miss the snowstorm that was coming. But now we would be driving right into the snowstorm.

I was now in some spacious, one-story house, all by myself. For a moment I was in the living room. The living room was huge. The back wall had a huge window running along it, letting in a lot of grey light.

I was then in a small bedroom. It was night. The light was on in the bedroom. The room was really cluttered. I looked at the clock on the dresser. It said something like 11:45. I looked out the slats of the window blinds. I saw the street below. It was like I was in a house. I may have seen a car passing.

I walked away from the bedroom, possibly toward a doorway. I thought to myself that it was really good how well we had timed our trip back home. We were already home and the snowstorm was only now getting ready to start.

Dream #2

I was in some bedroom that was a lot like mine. But the floor was barren and possibly something like concrete. The floor was really grimy and dusty, with a little bit of trash like paper here and there.

I saw a big roach run across the floor. I was a little annoyed, and I decided to kill the roach. But for some reason I also decided to sweep and clean the floor while I was hunting down the roach.

At some point there were also two men in the room. They were both white, possibly British, and kind of old. They may have been wearing black suits and bowler hats.

In the middle of cleaning the floors, I suddenly thought this would be the perfect opportunity to kill the roach. I grabbed something with a flat bottom, possibly a shoe, but possibly a flat object like a book. I slammed down on the roach.

I caught the roach so that its head was just coming out from under the book. I didn't think I would be able to kill it this way. But I kept smashing down harder and harder. Eventually a bunch of fluid began pouring out from under the book. The fluid was clear and kind of brown, like some kind of liquor. After a while I was satisfied that the roach was dead.

I turned around and stood up. The other men were just finishing cleaning up the place. Either they or I said something like, "You see, if you only keep this place clean, you'll avoid having to deal with roaches."

The men were now standing over at a table by the wall. There was a third man, kind of an average, middle-aged guy, a little overweight, kind of pale white, but overall healthy looking.

The man had two black cases with him. The cases were like computer cases, but they were small. They were made out of backpack-like fabric and were also very well-padded. The old men first lay the cases on the table. They then took the cases off the table and began to sit them on the floor. At this point in time the cases may have been unzipped and empty.

I wondered if it was a good idea to lay the cases on the floor. After all, the floor had been so dirty that it had attracted the roaches. If the cases were important, wouldn't it be kind of bad to get them dirty by putting them on the floor?

Dream #3

I looked at my hands. Apparently they had gotten so dry that they were cracking and bleeding. But now they were cracking a lot. It was like whole slashes were running down the backs of my hands. I thought I would never be able to heal my hands, they were so cracked and bleeding.

Dream #4

There was some man who was dignified and at the same time kind of like the ringleader for a circus. He was right up in my face, talking to me about something about society. He was trying to make his argument by using the analogy of some kind of object with a pointy top and fat base.

But for some reason, I got an image in my head of something which was the opposite of what the man had been talking about. I may have seen a spinning top. This had a pointy bottom and fat top. But I may also have seen a clear, plastic cup for soda. It didn't have a pointy top or base. I may hav seen some other kind of clear, plastic toy.

At some point either I or the man started to question the validity of the argument being made, since none of the images being conjured up had the pointy top and fat base.

(Side notes: In Dream #1, the trees growing out of the shack most likely come from a photographic image from the work of Jungjin Lee. I saw her work a few weeks back at the Aperture Foundation.

The weird animals at least partly come from a fetish video I was watching on YouTube. It involved an adult woman in a diaper, playing with a huge teddy bear. But I also think the image comes from the werewolves in the Twilight movies.

Also, I've recently read a couple of books which have involved lycanthropy lately. One is Bruno Bettelheim's The Uses of Enchantment. The other is Hereward Carrington's 1921 book Problems of Psychical Research.

Carrington's book is available on the free book website gutenberg.org. I think it is also available for free through Kindle.

Here is the link to the Gutenberg Project version of the book. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/23660...-h/23660-h.htm

While I'm on the topic of the Gutenberg Project, I might as well mention a small essay I read by Henri Bergson, simply titled Dreams. I don't agree with the entire theory. But I find Bergson's overall insights to be a lot of fun. Anyway, I thought of you guys when I read it.

Here is the link. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/20842...-h/20842-h.htm )

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

There was a view that was partly like a TV view and partly like a scene that I was inside of. The view was of a kitchen. The kitchen looked like it was from a 1950s TV show, like The Honeymooners. The floor, walls, and tables were grey.

A family was in the kitchen. The children sat at the table with a man who was possibly the kids' father, although he may not have been a relation at all. The wife was walking around in the kitchen, possibly getting food ready. The children were all young, less than ten years old. The children and the mother may all have been wearing heavy nightgowns. The man was somewhat professionally dressed, and he seemed to have waxed hair and a waxed mustache.

The children and the mother were all giving the man a gift. They were going to take the man anywhere he wanted to go. The man was surprised by this gift. He put some serious effort into thinking of where he wanted to go. He may have thought of some exotic places. But then the children began playing some kind of weird tag-like game around the man's chair.

The man seemed to be having just as much fun with this game as the children were having. But the man fell in his chair at one point. He appeared to be injured. The children, who had been afraid of the man before, were now afraid of him again. He may have been knocked out, or he may have been dying. But the kids didn't want to be around when the man had regained enough consciousness to yell at the kid.

The kids ran through some kind of weird place that looked like an outdoor scene indoors. The ground was grey and slightly hilly, but it all seemed to be littered slightly with white wads of paper. The kids found some group of parents.

I was trying to make a point to everybody (even though I wasn't necessarily in the scene) that the man wasn't mad. I now saw the man. He was still lying on his back on the kitchen floor, wheezing in and out, barely conscious. He was being tended to by a man and a woman. He was saying that if he was going to go anywhere it would be to St. Louis, so he could see his family again.

Dream #2

I was in some apartment complex. I had come out of the apartment I was in. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, as if were going to rain heavily or as if it had just gotten finished raining. A man and a woman were walking down the steps from a floor above me. We were leaving the apartment at the same time for some similar reason. We may actually have been leaving together.

I saw a huge American Airlines plane flying really low near the apartment. It flew over a deep green landscape, like trees over a rolling, suburban neighborhood. The plane was so low I thought it was going to crash. But it didn't.

I may have needed to speed up to get where I was going. I ran down a stairwell and then did someb weird move where I slid down one of the vertical poles of the complex.

I was now on the ground level of the complex (even though I may previously have been on the ground level as well). I walked around a corner of the building and went into a laundry room. I had to grab my laundry before I could leave.

Some other people had apparently used the dryers after I had put my clothes in them. The dryers and washing machines were actually stuffed full of clothes, as if at least two other groups of people had come in after me and shoved their clothes into the machines without first taking the clothes out that the previous people had left in. It also appeared to me that some people had taken some of their clothes out already. The laundry room was filled with piles of clothes.

I was kind of worried that my laundry had only been partly done. But I began to pick through all the clothes, trying to find everything that was mine, so I could leave. As I was picking through the clothes I found two pairs of panties. The panties looked like they were for a little girl. They were white and made of terry cloth. They had some design of Tweety Bird and some quote in cursive writing on the front. One pair had a purple waistband and one pair had a pink waistband.

I figured I would steal one of these pairs of panties. Probablyb nobody would notice, I thought. I knew the panties were for a little girl, but I figured I could fit into them as well. I may have decided on the panties with the pink waistband. I may have been worried about getting caught while I was stealing the panties.

I was now sitting in some living room. A woman was walking up a staircase, possibly up from a basement. I was afraid to see her, as if it just seemed so uncanny that she could appear from the stairs. But now the woman came down the stairs from an upper floor. The woman was my co-worker, SP. She was wearing boy clothes. She wore a brown, button-up shirt and a round-brimmed hat. She had a suitcase with her.

SP told me that she had gotten all her laundry taken care of and that she was now leaving. She told me that she had even seen my laundry in the laundry room. Something she said implied somehow that she had actually sorted and folded my clothes for me. I asked her if this was true. She said yes. She said that everything was laid out in the laundry room for me. I may have seen everything on a folding table with a fake wood top in my mind's eye.

SP may have made some comment about how difficult it had been to sort my clothes out of all the other clothes in the laundry room, but how she had done it because she thought it that my clothes were important enough to keep track of.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in the hallway of my apartment buidling. I was at the other end of the hallway from my apartment. There were two black boys, one kind of tall, both probably in their early to mid teens. One of the boys saw me and wanted to do something disrespectful to me, so he spit in the hallway, near the top of the stairwell going down.

I was now in my doorway, yelling at a few adults, who were also all black. I asked why people needed to keep doing this kind of stuff, not only to me, but to the whole apartment.

Somehow a really big, thuggish-looking adult possibly dressed in a red hooded sweatshirt, black bubble vest, backwards cap, and slightly tinted eyeglasses began to beat me up. He pounded and pounded on me until I was lying on the floor. Something may have been really wrong with my left shoulder, as if the man had almost torn it off.

But I may possibly still have stood up after this to run after one or two of the adults who were now walking away, down the hallway. I told them that I wasn't going to stop complaining just because of what they'd done to me.

Dream #2

I was out on some lawn which may have been surrounded by some kind of small building, like a wide villa. It was a kind of pale, slightly overcast day.

I had possibly done something bad, and now some woman possibly wanted to get me in trouble for it. The woman may have been a few years older than I, with a kind of thin, rough-looking face, pale blue eyes, and very short, red hair.

The woman was really taunting me. I finally felt so threatened that I grabbed the woman by her ankles, swung her around, and threw her up in the air. She went pretty high, then she landed. She seemed injured. But now I just wanted to kill her. So I lifted her back up, spun her around, and slammed her back down to the ground. I did this a few times, until the woman had been smashed so much that she was finally dead.

During the last few throws, I saw that there were two men watching me from a porch. On the woman's last fall, her body bounced up onto the porch, then actually tumbled down into a smallish, plastic cooler that was full of ice and sodas. I slammed the lid down on the cooler.

The guys were still staring at me. One was younger. The other was very old. They both looked kind of grizzled and wore worn old clothes and cowboy hats.

I thought I'd impress them somehow, so I opened up the cooler and pulled out a Dr. Pepper. I sat it on the porch and made some weird comment about how the woman's body had become a Dr. Pepper and how it would taste so great to drink because of that.

The men "told" me that I had killed the woman because I didn't want her to tell on me and get me in trouble, but that now the police knew the woman had been killed, and I'd be getting in even more trouble. I should probably get out of here before the police came around.

I agreed. I started taking body parts out of the cooler. But the body parts, mostly just a bunch of shapeless chunks of meat, were all inside of white paper bags from Wendy's. I sat the bags up on the porch. I asked the men if they would hide the body parts for me, so that the police wouldn't find them.

I was now leaving. The two men were sitting in a room back from the porch. The room was dim. The two men sat side by side, with their backs to the wall opposite the doorway. As I walked away, on the lawn, I asked the men if we would still be able to cook the woman's body parts and eat them like a hamburger. The men said that we would be able to do it.

"In fact," the older man said, "You've already eaten a hamburger made out of humans."

I thought back and realized, with surprise, that the man was right. There was a man just a while back. His body had been turned into a hamburger, and I had been fed his meat without even knowing it! I had been tricked into cannibalism!

I was now in some bathroom that looked like an outhouse or a bathroom that you might see at a camp in the woods. I was in a stall. I kept coughing and pulling meat out of my mouth. The meat was yellowish and looked kind of like fish or curried chicken. It had the texture of fish. I had apparently not yet swallowed any of this meat. I hadn't even chewed it very much.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was outside some kind of large building that was shaped like a coliseum but looked more like a modern church or office complex. The walls were glass up through the bottom half of the building. The top half of the building was concrete. The building seemed to be circular.

I was separated by the building by some kind of big lawn and possibly a road. The lawn had a slope down and then a slope back up, at the top of which was the building. I ran down the slope and then across some kind of road.

On the other side of the road was something like yellow tape. I had to cross under the tape.

At some point in time I realized that my brother had gotten a ticket for a Smashing Pumpkins concert, which was taking place in the large building. I had been too slow in getting tickets, and now the event was all sold out.

Somewhere I could sense that there was a huge line of people waiting to head into the building. It seemed to be on a side of the building pretty widely separated from where I was.

I then had a conversation with some man who I couldn't see, and who may not even have been there at all. I was telling him that I actually didn't want to go to the Smashing Pumpkins concert, and that I wasn't looking for a ticket to get into the show. I especially didn't want to wait in line. I explained to the man that I was heading to the building for some other reason.

Dream #2

I was looking at some kind of art work or map or ancient illustration. It was scrawly and full of line-figures and stick-figures, like some of the artwork of Pascale Marthine Tayou.

The more I looked at the art work, the more I came to understand that it was a story about a brother and sister in an Asian royal family.

The brother and sister were in a grove of what I may have thought of as "lime trees," though the fruit of the trees was actually small and yellow, like miniature lemons. The trees were all pretty small, maybe ten feet tall, very trim, and set in very ordered, square plots with a grid or maze of dirt paths between the plots.

The sister was older, maybe eleven or twelve years old. She wore a very traditional looking kimono or robe made of silk and colored yellow and green. She may also have worn some kind of white headdress that rose up high from her forehead. The brother was younger and may have actually been wearing a modern, pale blue polo shirt and pale grey shorts.

The brother and sister were playing a game of hide and seek in the grove of trees. It may have been more like a chasing game than a game of hide and seek. But underlying this game there was some sort of intrigue. The little brother was being made ready for some large responsiblity. But the older sister was trying to keep the brother down, hold him back from the honorable duty.

I now saw the scroll of scrawly drawings again. The grove was there, though somehow the garden now looked more like a radish patch. Radishes may have been visible, as if they were represented as growing above the ground.

I then saw a column of hieroglyphs, with something that looked like a ladder drawn beside it. I may have thought of the hieroglyphs as Egyptian, although there was one glyph of a rabbit's head that looked more like a Mayan (?) glyph.

My eyes scanned up the column of glyphs very closely, and before I knew it, I was climbing up the scrawly ladder drawing beside the glyphs. I kept climbing up and up, trying to discern in the glyphs the story of the brother and sister.

I now looked down. I was incredibly high in the air, far above the garden, which was real again. Below me on the ladder were some of my family members, possibly including my brother, who was right behind me.

The ladder felt very shaky. I thought I was going to fall off of it. The people on the ladder below me may have expressed their need to support me so I didn't fall off the ladder.

Dream #3

I was out on the balcony of some enormous building which was like an office complex and an apartment building combined. The balcony spiraled around the building. It was a concrete ramp, and it kind of reminds me now of the Guggenheim museum.

Off to the side of the ramp were entrances to exhibit-like spaces which were actually offices or working spaces. I may have walked into one of these spaces at one point. I may have realized that this whole building was some kind of huge complex for gifted thinkers.

I was back out on the balcony. The balcony still spiraled, but instead of spiraling along the outside of the building, it seemed to be spiraling along some kind of interior, like the building was o-shaped, with the inside open to the sky, and the balcony running along the inside of the "o" in an upward spiral.

I lay down on my stomach on some kind of concrete bench that allowed me to look down to the next level of the building. I saw a man and a woman walking out of one of the working spaces. This working space had automatic, sliding-glass doors.

As the man and woman walked through the doors, I heard a woman behind and above me tell her male companion, "Oh, look. There they go. Probably on their way to make some kind of huge takeover."

I understood from this that the man and woman were known as financial geniuses. The woman behind me was assuming, with admiration, that the man and woman had been in the working space plotting some kind of huge corporate buyout that would end up being wildly successful. However, I had a feeling that this assumption wasn't true, and that the man and woman were kind of sick of people always assuming this kind of stuff about them.

On a bench tiered down from my bench, a very good-looking man lay on his stomach. He was white, with bronze-tanned skin, curly, red-blonde hair, and blue eyes. He was tall and slimly muscular. He wore khaki shorts and no shirt.

The man was thinking about me. I could read his mind. He was thinking something like, "Well, he's at it again, observing everybody and coming up with insights." But I didn't feel like this was true. I felt like I was just kind of hanging out. And it kind of irked me that people always had to think I was having all these insights. (?????)

The man was attracted to me. He actually thought he could sneak up and lay down beside me on my bench. For some reason I now had a blanket on me as well. He actually came up onto my bench and lay down under my blanket. He then got up as if he were going to lay down right on me. We were both in just our underwear.

I was suddenly feeling really attracted to this guy. This surprised me, since I'm not gay, but it didn't bother me at all. I actually liked the idea. I thought that I might just roll over onto my back so that the guy could lay on me and we could be face to face. I figured that he could rub against me and that we could get each other off that way while we were both still in our underwear.

But the guy didn't give me enough time. He lay on me while I was still on my stomach. So he was on my back. But he lay on me so that we were back to back. That seemed kind of awkward to me. Then, suddenly, the man's body began to kind of evaporate. The man's whole body began to sink into my body. The man eventually vanished into me entirely.

(I believe that at this point I woke up, or went into a semi-waking state. As I lay there I thought, Well, I guess the man's spirit has possessed my body. Oh, well. The thought that the man's spirit had possessed me seemed more interesting than worrying.)

Dream #4

I was walking through some kind of complex at night. It was like a shopping complex mixed with a park and a university campus. There was some kind of event going on there. It may have been something like a convention for psychic people.

I may now have been walking quickly or even running through some maze-like concrete path between a bunch of small mounds of lawny grass. As I was doing this, I was hearing or remembering some story about a young man who had been psychic and had had to go through some series of struggles because of his abilities.

I now saw some weird kind of room under one of the mounds of lawny grass. It was visible through a glass or plexiglass wall. It was a very small room, lit with gentle light. It had two black, leather chairs that looked like dentists' chairs.

Above the room was a sign. The sign looked like the sign for a haunted-house-type ride for an amusement park. The sign was just one long word, which I'm pretty sure began with "A," but which meant something like "phantasmagoria."

I turned around and walked around the right side of this room and lawn-mound. I found a young, black man sitting in a weird seat that was somehow connected to the room. The man looked like he may have been in college. But he also had some grey hair. He was overweight, and he wore kind of thick glasses. He had a gentle, smiling demeanor.

The seat was like a combination between an auditorium desk and some kind of fake race-car seat for an arcade game. But it was also surrounded by a concrete-and-plexiglass structure. Also, around the seat were black, plastic surfaces that could be pushed down a little bit, almost like the fronts for garbage cans in fast food restaurants.

The man "told" me, probably through telepathy, about a story he was writing for his college class. It was about a Jewish man who wanted to play on the football team at his college. But the rest of the team was black men. The black men just bullied the Jewish man in all kinds of ways. But the Jewish man kept working hard, and eventually he became a successful member of the football team.

The man got up and walked away as he "told" me that his teacher and his classmates really hated the story. They all said there was no way it could be successful. And he was really afraid it would get a bad grade.

The man, who may not even have been nearby anymore, "told" me, "Nobody wants to see a black man write a story about a Jewish man who succeeds despite black people's efforts to make him fail. All they want to see is stories about black people struggling against mean white people. But I'm sticking to my story."

I walked around the strange seat the man had been sitting in. I may have pressed down on some of the black surfaces. But I then thought to the room. The seat seemed to be connected to the room by some kind of passageway set into the concrete of the walkways, like some kind of trench or indentation.

But I didn't like the thought of taking the walkway into the room. I didn't seem to feel certain that I would actually see the room if I went that way. So I decided to walk up the mound of lawn instead. I figured that once I got up to the top of the mound I could look down into the room and see into it that way, as if the room had no ceiling.

Dream #5

I was in some small apartment, which was my family's house. I was sat on some kind of mat or towel. The mat was set in front of and just a couple meters away from the front door.

A group of kids, one of whom may have been one of my nephews, also stood on the mat, to my right. There were probably three kids. These kids were all getting ready to rehearse a dance they were going to perform for some kind of show like American Idol.

The kids were apparently very good. The person who was training them was actually some kind of important person for the show. He was serious about training the kids to develop their potential so they could win. I was pretty impressed by the kids when I realized this situation.

The man was now there, and he was probably standing with a parent, possibly even my mother. They both stood right before the door.

Another kid now came into the apartment. He was a little, skinny, black boy. He wore a dull-gold jacket, like a Starter jacket for the 49ers. He was extremely late. He obviously felt a little bad about being late, but he was trying not to show it. He made some kind of threatening dance move right in front of the other kids and then seemed to walk off somewhere else.

The boy's father now walked into the apartment. He was kind of tall, a little on th heavy side. He also wore a dull gold Starter jacket. He had a little stubble, some of which was grey. The kids didn't really like the boy, and it seemed pretty obvious that the adults didn't like the father. The father stood off to the right side of the room.

I was a little annoyed that everybody else was just letting the father feel shoved off to the side. So I stood up and walked up to him. I shook his hand and patted him on the back. He and I exchanged some words in a mild tone of voice. He seemed to feel like I cared about him, so I went back to sitting on the mat.

One of the kids ended up pointing over to a group of pictures hung up on the wall in something like a hallway off to our left. I now seemed to be surrounded by my nephews and niece. We all went over to the pictures.

My oldest nephew seemed to be identified somehow with my niece, who is the youngest in the group of siblings. Some of the pictures had signs connected with them. The signs were green and had yellow lettering. They kind of looked like bumper stickers.

I asked my nephew/niece if she could read some of the words on the signs. For some reason I thought I should have him/her look away from the signs. Then I had him/her look back to the wall. I asked him/her, "Now can you find a word with double-letters in it?"

I was thinking of a sign that had the word "express" in it. So the double-letters I was hoping my nephew/niece would locate were "ss." My nephew/niece was now in my arms. I held him/her up close to the wall, right in front of the sign with the word "express" in it.

It seemed to be difficult for my nephew/niece to find the word I was referring to. But I knew that my nephew/niece would eventually find the word.

However, I then wondered about this challenge. I wondered why it would be impressive if my nephew proved himself able to find the word. My nephew was pretty old. He should be able to read. I would actually have to be worried if he couldn't find the word. It was something he should absolutely know by this time. And he probably should have been able to find the word by now.

I actually began to wonder if my nephew was actually the age he was. I may actually also have begun to question whether I was holding my nephew or my niece. I figured that if I was holding my niece, that would make a lot more sense. My niece was a lot younger. This kind of challenge might make more sense for someone her age.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I sat at a small dining table in "my apartment." My friend H sat across the table from me. The table was narrow, and the room was kind of drab. The walls may have been some kind of dull green, and the only other thing in the room may haved been a bed.

H was being really mean to me. It seemed to be because she was in a bad mental state. I figured this was because she had been talking to her old boyfriend, C.

I got really mad that H had let herself get mixed up with C again. I stood up and leaned all the way across the table, getting into H's face. I said, "Are you talking to C again?" H may have given some kind of non-verbal confirmation.

I sat down and leaned back in my chair. I said, "Get out of here, you disgusting b---h."

H stood up and headed for the door, upset and in a really scattered state of mind. She had brought a couple of bags worth of stuff to my house. I told her as she was leaving to take her stuff with her. But she wasn't listening to me.

I took the stuff and sat it outside the door. H was already heading down the stairs. I yelled at her that I was leaving this stuff outside of my apartment, so she better come pick it up. But she didn't listen.

I went back inside my apartment. I was a little worried for H's stuff, but I wasn't going to bring it back into my place. I went back into the bedroom. I figured that I would go away somewhere, take a few days in another town. That way I could make some kind of final separation from H.

I found two small items of H's still in my room. One was a small, padded manila envelope with some kind of Japanese writing on it. Another was a thick card that looked like its backing was made out of manila envelope paper. This card had Japanese writing on it as well, something like an advertisement for a destination or some kind of clinic.

I looked into the envelope. It was full of medicine and inhalers. But it also had something which I couldn't see clearly, but which reminded me of a box of condoms. It seemed clear to me from this that H was messing around with C again, which was definitely bad news and something I wasn't willing to be a part of again.

I got really worried about H's stuff outside. I was afraid it would get stolen, because it seemed like the people in my apartment were really crooked. But I just didn't want to have anything to do with H anymore.

For some reason, I called H to tell her that I was going on a trip somewhere, but that I found two more packages of hers at my place. I'd just mail these packages.

At some other time I got a phone call from H. I imagined that she would ask me where the bags were that she'd left at my apartment. I imagined that I'd have to tell her they were gone by now, if she hadn't come back to get them. I imagined that she'd be mad.

Dream #2

I was sitting in a kind of small bedroom, which may actually have been a studio apartment or a dorm room. I sat on the bed, with my back against the wall and my legs partly off the side of the bed.

A mother stood with her back to me. She had two daughters, both of whom were young, one of whom may have been about eleven or twelve years old. Both girls stood with their backs to me as well, and in front of their mother.

The mother was acting as if she were driving a car somewhere. It really was like she was driving a car and taking us somewhere. It was like the girls were in the front seat and I was in the back seat. The younger sister looked back at me. I smiled at her in a kind of flirting way.

The younger sister got interested in me and sat down on the bed next to me, on my left side. She was blonde, and she wore a red and black or pink and black flannel jacket and blue jeans. She may have looked older that eleven, maybe even in her late teens.

At some point I may have laid my hand on her leg. She held my hand. I felt really excited. I thought I might try to make another move. But I then thought, Isn't this wrong? I'm a lot older than this girl. She's really young. I shouldn't be getting romantic with her like this.

The older sister now wanted a little attention as well. She sat on the bed, to her sister's left. She had tan skin and brown hair. She wore a short, white, satiny dress that looked like a Chinese-style skirt-dress. She was really sexy, but I wasn't incredibly interested in her.

The girls had to go somewhere. They said they'd be back. I was kind of glad to see them go -- I was a little freaked out that I had been making moves on an eleven year old girl. But before the older sister left, she said she and the mother would have the younger sister come back into the room so she could be alone with me.

I was really excited about this. I thought, Well, if they think it's okay, then it must be okay! I lay down, stomach down, on the bed. Somehow I realized that the situation was different from what I'd thought it had been. There were a few people coming to this room in a while. There was going to be a party, probably with old friends of mine from college.

I may have walked into the bathroom. When I came out of the bathroom, one of my old college friends' mothers walked into the room. She was nice-looking, older, skinny, blonde. She wore a form-fitting, dark blue sweater and dull, blue slacks. She had something like dry cleaning in her arms. She folded the dry-cleaned clothes over a chair at the dining table.

The woman and I spoke politely, but it seemed to me like I wasn't classy enough to be a satisfactory friend for the woman's child, and that somehow the woman was restraining her disappointment in me.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some big apartment. It felt very light inside the apartment, as if almost everything were white. There may have been people in the apartment with me. We may have been standing before something like a drafting table.

I or some other man was talking about something like dinosaur bones. Some of us people were trying to get another person interested in whatever field of study we were engaged in by showing the person that dinosaur bones were actually a lot older than he'd thought.

The person may have been a young man. One of my "colleagues" may have been kind of tall and skinny, with olive-colored skin, a stubbly face, and bushy hair and a bushy mustache.

But at some point something happened with the one of the windows of the apartment. A big blast of wind came up and blew against the window, popping it out of its socket. But it didn't pop inward; it popped outward.

I ran to grab the window to keep it from falling down to the street. There were at least three different pieces to the window: the outer pane, a screen, and some other kind of pane. The window seemed to be one of many lining the wall. There also seemed to be a big fire escape outside, lining most of the wall.

After grabbing all the pieces, though not very securely, I saw as if from outside the building. It seemed like the outer pane was actually connected to the window frame. It also looked like it could open and shut by means of a little hand-crank inside the apartment.

Dream #2

One of my co-workers, HS, was walking out of some office. He didn't want me to see him because he had his left pants leg hiked up to about his knee, revealing a pale blue sock. I told HS not to worry. I'd always thought he was a hard worker. His mishap with his pants and sock proved he was working so hard that he'd gotten absent-minded.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was at "my office," which was basically two cubicles set in one of the product islands at a discounter store like a Kmart or a Wal-Mart. I sat in the left cubicle. My co-worker S sat in the right cubicle. There was an aisle for a walkway between us.

I had been doing some kind of work, but now I stood up from my cubicle and walked into the main part of the store. I had probably been thinking about my bad handwriting.

I looked in the distance. Hanging on the wall or hanging from the ceiling were two signs, as big as the signs that might usually advertise products, like in a Target. The signs may just have materialized as I watched them. They mimicked my handwriting, making two whole pages out of little scrawls. The two pages seemed to be slightly curled and almost touching each other back-to-back.

I thought that described my handwriting really well. I was now walking back toward the cubicles. I walked past some sort of exchange counter, which was just a smallish, fake wood counter which may possibly have stood before a dressing room. A kind of big-framed, kind of muscly woman with very short hair stood before the counter. She wore a white tank top and blue jeans.

The woman was trying to exchange something that looked like a classical statue of a chest and head of a man. The sculpture was in some kind of grey, slatey material. The back of the sculpture was completely flat. It hadn't had any features carved into it, but there were all kinds of apparently accidental scratches made in it.

As I headed back to my desk, my co-worker CB, a peer to my boss, walked up behind me. He had completely shaved his head, and he looked a little more tan than before. He wore a green shirt with white woven in, so that it looked like it was inside-out, and some blue jeans.

I was afraid that CB hated me. I also knew that my boss wasn't around, so I figured CB would try to make trouble. So I tried to hurry and sit down at my desk. But, for some reason, CB kissed me on the head. He said something nice to me. He may have asked me to help him with some issue he was having with a project. I was relieved that he didn't hate me.

(Although in waking life I don't think I'd appreciate it if he kissed me on the head.)

Dream #2

I was in a dark hallway that was made of big, stone blocks. The hallway was tall, somewhat wide, and almost completely dark. I was apparently taking a break from studying.

Just for fun, apparently, I decided to bounce upwards off the walls. I bounced from wall to wall, bringing myself higher and higher. I was finally almost to the ceiling. At this point my body was horizontal, as if I were floating and laying on my left side.

I thought I should probably get back to studying. But I figured that what I was doing now was also educational, as well as fun. So why not keep doing it? I decided that since I was basically floating, I might as well fly through the hallway.

I flew through the hallway and into some dark room that was kind of like some classical study in a mansion and a messy, suburban living room. My mom may have been sleeping on the couch.

There was a sliding glass door at the back of the room. It had a thin, light brown curtain on it. As I flew toward the door, I thought, I can only fly in my dreams. I thought, Well, I don't think I'm dreaming, even though I'm flying. But I thought, Well, if I'm dreaming, I should be able to go straight through the closed glass door. I should try.

So I flew at the door. I may have felt myself pushing through the curtain and the glass. I may have thought, Well, I guess I am dreaming.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was somehow talking with a private detective or remembering a past discussion with a private detective. It was like I was seeing either real life or a video of "my family's house," with possible clips of the detective in the house, while also hearing the conversation between myself and the detective.

The detective had been sent to my family's house. Some other member of my extended family had accused either my mother or my sister of doing something bad. This may have included abusing children or stealing money from an extended family member.

I didn't feel like my mom or my sister had actually done anything wrong. So I didn't want the detective to do whatever kind of investigation he was doing on them. But the detective was actually mad at me. He told me that I wasn't helping him enough. He needed to get into the house. But I was keeping everything closed. He told me that the least I could do for him would be to keep a window open.

At some point I saw the detective in the living room. The room, like all the others, was cluttered with all kinds of papers, though it also appeared to be cluttered with other things, such as flannel blankets. The detective was shuffling through a stack of white papers that looked like some kind of government documents.

Dream #2

I was in a living room The room was kind of nice. I stood in front of a big entertainment center. I was remembering a conversation with my mother. At some point in the conversation, my mother asked me how much money I was making. I told her my salary. She said, "Good. Now it's time to go out there and make even more."

I had the feeling that this living room was my mom's living room. I had been living here, but now I was getting ready to move out. It was part of the next step in my life.

I stood looking at the entertainment center. There was a TV inside the entertainment center, but it was sat on some kind of coffee table which sat on the floor. In fact, the entertainment center didn't seem to have any shelves or drawers in it. It just seemed to be some kind of six-foot-tall shell made of fake wood. But I still thought it was pretty cool. It may have had some potted plants hanging down from its roof.

I wondered if I was going to be able to take the entertainment center with me. I couldn't remember if it was mine or my mom's. But now I was having trouble remembering whether my mom was coming with me.

I walked through the entertainment center. The right side of it had a little doorway-like structure. I thought to myself that the entertainment center added a lot to the feeling of space in the house. I thought that good taste in interior decoration must mean something like being able to fill your house with all these things that seem to add to the feeling of space in the house.

Dream #3

I was in some wide, short space with concrete floors and cinder block walls. The place may have been like some part of a school building. The floors were waxed and shiny. The only light was from windows at the far end of the room. I may have seen myself in the middle of the room, as if I were separate from myself. I may have looked like a junior high or early high school student.

I was running around in a bit of a panic. For some reason, for a really long time I had been trying to remember a L'arc en Ciel song. But I kept remembering the wrong song. I finally slowly began to remember the lyrics to the song I had been trying to remember.

I also began to "remember" that this song had been taken by some group of people to make some statement on women's menstrual cycles. It was then being used to make girls feel bad about themselves and about having sex.