maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was walking out on a sidewalk, near the top of a hill. It was daytime, and the sun was bright. I was walking past the stone gates of some kind of professional center. The gates had an arched entranceway.

One of my old friends, PD, walked out from the gates. PD was apparently dressed as a business professional. But she looked kind of horrible. She wore a grey skirt and a green blazer, with a white blouse that had some kind of old-style bow-tie on the front of it. Everything looked like it was from the 1970s.

PD's hair was also weird. It didn't look quite real. It was curly or crimpy. It looked wet, like after a shower, when a person's hair looks damp and a bit disarranged. But it also looked dry and dead, like the stringy hair of an animal that had been laying on the road for a while.

PD's face looked about the same, except that she may have had a tan, and that her face may have been a bit worn with age.

I called out to PD, kind of gently, since we were so close, and I was so awe-stricken at seeing her. PD said, "What makes you think you can just come up and talk to me after all this time? I don't want to see you anymore."

PD either got onto a bus or got into a white SUV, driven by some rich guy who had been waiting for her. I respected PD's desire not to speak to me.

I walked down the hill and found myself under a bridge, like a bridge for a highway overpass. The sunlight curved down under the shade of the bridge, making a warm little quarter-circle of light in a small space.

Some kids may have been skateboarding in that space of light. One of the kids may have had a red and white skateboard, with a design almost like the Coca-Cola logo.

Dream #2

I was watching an old film. The main thing about this film was actually the music. Some great composer from the early twentieth century had made this music. The film may have been a documented performance to accompany the music.

But what the film was was living footage of an actual event. The footage was from one of the World Wars, possibly WWII. The scene was some torn out space of land. The upper right area looked like a trench or a foxhole. But the whole area before the foxhole was a blasted out cavity in the ground.

Two or three men sat slumped on the ledge of the trench and the blown out space. Behind the men was a bright light. Some thick cloud of gas spewed out from behind the men and into the blown out space.

The way the men were slumped against the trench and each other, it was obvious they were dead. I assumed that the gas clouds I was seeing were poison gas, and that the men had been killed by it. I assumed their deaths had been very painful.

At some point the music built up to an ominous crescendo. I was trying to figure out why the composer of this music wanted us to watch the actual deaths of soldiers on the battlefield while we listened to his music.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a dark bedroom with my mom and my sister. The room seemed to have cinder block walls and concrete floors. The only light in the room seemed to be a blue glow from somewhere along the walls. The room was really big, almost empty, with a big bed off on the right wall.

I held something like an iPad in my hands. It was playing some sort of news show. Below the news show there was a little yellow strip that ran horizontally across the screen. In this strip would be shown little squares that were like stills frome video news stories.

The news story playing in the main part of the screen was interrupted at one point by an announcer informing people that updates had been made on a man who had been wanted by the police.

I looked down to see the updated videos. At first there were strings of black text. As well as the wanted man, there had been a missing man. One string of text said, "MISSING MAN FOUND DEAD." Another string of text said, "WANTED MAN FOUND KILLING MISSING MAN."

I now pressed on one of the stills, to play one of the video news updates. In my mind's eye, I saw a video image of the wanted man being caught doing something like sawing the missing man's head off while he was still alive.

While I had been wathing the original news story and reading the lines of text, I had been sitting out on the floor, in the middle of the room. Now I was laying on the bed, possibly with my sister.

The still I had pressed played a video history of the two men, up to the most updated news reports. The shots showed various photos of the men in some living room. There was often also a woman in the room. The woman was one of the men's wife. I'm not sure which man.

The men's appearances changed throughout the photos. Sometimes the men looked young, almost 1970s-like. They had huge hair and wore dark sweaters and jeans. At other times, they looked like kind of clean-cut college guys.

But most of the time the two guys looked almost identical: long hair pulled back in a ponytail, the hair mostly brown, with grey streaks in it, and a big grey streak in the center, full, but not huge, beards, and blue eyes.

The two men had had something to do with a cult. It was like one of the men had been the cult leader, while another of the men had been a member of the cult, then gone on either to join another cult or try to make a cult of his own.

Either both men or just the cult leader became militantly angry. There were possibly even groups sent out with weapons. Finally the cult leader had caught up with the other guy and killed him.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a "Quentin Tarantino movie." I think it was supposed to be like Inglourious Basterds, like in the final scene between the young man and the young woman in the film booth.

I was some kind of spy. I may have been a man in my forties, with a big, curly moustache. I may have a tiny bit overweight, and I may have been wearing an overcoat and a fedora.

I was sneaking through some building, trying to find and kill some woman, but also trying to escape her so she couldn't kill me. I went through a series of rooms like rooms in a mansion, even though this building was a multi-floor building, like some kind of museum.

I eventually found the woman working in a room like a film booth. The woman had her back turned to me. I may have been supposed to kill her. But I suddenly realized that I had to get out of here before she noticed me and started chasing me, to kill me.

I knew that there really wasn't any way out of this building, or at least no secret way that the woman wouldn't be able to get to long before I did. But I still went running away through the building, not looking for a way out, necessarily, but at least looking for a way to put distance between me and the woman.

But, for some reason, I almost purposely walked myself into a series of rooms that weren't just a dead end, but were a very short series of dead ends. I walked through one bedroom-like area, well-lit with natural light, then down a case of red-carpeted stairs. I ended up in a very small bathroom.

The bathroom barely had enough space for me to turn around in. The light was dim and incandescent, and most of the room seemed to be coated in yellow-beige tiles that faded into a dark brown at their edges. There was also a turquoise-colored towel.

I knew I had absolutely walked myself directly into a dead end. I knew the woman would catch up to me any time now. Yet I thought I would hide in the bathroom forever, or until the woman had gotten past me.

I knew that wouldn't work, though, and that the woman could easily find me. I just decided to leave the bathroom and face the woman.

I walked out of the bathroom. About halfway up the steps I noticed that the woman was standing over the top of the steps, off to their side, leaning over a waist-high railing bordering the staircase.

The woman looked young, maybe in her early twenties. She was pale skinned, with an oval-shaped, soft face. She had light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, pale blue eyes, and eyeglasses. She wore a green sweater and blue jeans. She actually seemed kind of nice and nerdy. But she was levelling a pistol at me.

At first, out of fear from having the gun pointing straight at me, I backed down a couple steps, like I was going back to the bathroom. But I realized that everything was over for me, and that I should at least be brave enough to face my fate. So I started walking back up the steps.

The woman seemed ready to shoot me. She didn't really want to wait until I got up the steps. She said, "Where do you want it? In the stomach?" She pointed the gun toward me stomach. "Or in the chest?" She pointed the gun toward my chest.

For some reason I "kind of" thought about my back, and how I thought the most efficiently killing shot would be one that went through "my back." But I couldn't quite get the concept of "my back" through my head. But I did think that my chest was close enough to "my back" to give me a pretty efficient death.

I told the woman to go ahead and shoot me in the chest. So she levelled the gun at my chest. I spread my chest out, so I could take the shot bravely, hopefully without flinching.

The woman shot me. I flew up into the air. I may have been falling down the stairs. But it really felt like I was just floating in the air, in a kind of "laying on my back" position, except with my head and maybe my legs bowed down a little bit, so I wasn't completely flat.

The woman said, "Well, that's all over, then. Thanks for being so cooperative about letting me get this over with!" She cheerfully walked toward the exit of the room.

I replied, "Oh, no problem. Thanks for being so nice and giving me a choice of where I could be shot."

Dream #2

I was standing in a hallway of a house. The house was kind of short, just a little alcove really, between a few rooms and the living room. The hallway was lit with incandescent light. To my right was the living room. The living room wasn't lit at all.

I was examining some papers in my hands when I heard some weird noises. It was like jangling glass and metal, like people were shuffling some stuff around or breaking stuff. But it sounded a little bit far away, like maybe one or two rooms separated from the living room.

I wondered if someone was breaking into this house. I was kind of afraid to go check, even though I knew I'd probably have to.

But then I looked out into the living room, to a computer out on a desk. The computer was playing some kind of show or visual program. It looked like a bunch of papers shuffling around on some kind of classical desk.

I could now tell that the sounds were coming from the computer. It seemed kind of weird to me that the visual program of papers shuffling on a desk would be accompanied by the sound of glass breaking and metal bars jangling and shuffling around.

But I think I figured that if I got closer to the computer, to see what the visual program was really all about, it would probably all make a lot more sense to me.

Dream #3

I sat in something like a conference room, at the right side a long, oval or rectangular table. I sat positioned directly across the table from the door into the conference room. To my left sat a woman who kind of looked like Camille Paglia, except taller and heavier.

The woman's hair was in a really bad fashion, about six inches long, but feathered all around her head like a bowl. She was probably wearing a terrible outfit -- some kind of circus-peanuts-orange blouse, a silver pendant with a black stone in the middle of it, and some kind of chunky, tweed skirt.

I had at least one notebook and a bunch of papers. I was sharing ideas about companies with the woman. I don't think the woman worked with corporations. But I think she worked a lot with ideas in general. So I wanted to throw my ideas about companies out to her as being just about ideas in general.

Suddenly a tall, overweight, pale, bald businessman came walking into the room. He was apparently my boss -- even though I didn't have a job anymore. The woman left for some reason or another. The man eyed the woman and me with jealousy.

I felt like I shouldn't have been sharing my ideas with this woman. Instead, I should have been sharing them with my boss (or ex-boss). I got all sheepish, panicky, and stuttery. I stood out of my chair and pulled up one of my notebooks.

I told my (ex-)boss, "Y--y--you see, I was just talking to her about Lockheed Martin. You see, I've pulled some ideas together about the company." (I may have said "LMT," and not "Lockheed Martin.")

When I mentioned Lockheed Martin, the man made a kind of impressed, humming-grunting sound. Encouraged, I went on. I flipped through a few pages in my notebook, explaining some stuff about Lockheed Martin that I don't remember at all anymore.

Most of the pages were written in black ink. But I got to one page where I'd written on three themes regarding "LMT." Each theme was written in a different color. There was a red section, then a blue section, then a green section.

Each section was separated from the next by a line, which may have had the title for the next section or theme. This line may have always been written in red ink.

Good morning, everybody.

The new designs for the Dream Views site are pretty cool!

Dream #1

A TV show. A missile had been launched over some part of America, possibly on the west coast. I saw what looked like some landforms in a huge river or else some chain of islands in very shallow water. I saw this from a couple thousand meters in the sky.

A man then discussed what he had seen. The man seemed to be in maybe his late thirties or early forties. He was pretty tall, kind of overweight, and kind of pale. He had wide, blue eyes, and a kind of long, walrus-like moustache. He wore a black t-shirt and a baseball cap.

The man had apparently worked at some point in his life as a missile expert. He began discussing some of the contrails he had seen coming out of the missile.

The man knew, from the contrails, what exact kind of chemicals were in them. The man listed the chemicals. From the chemicals, the man knew this missile was a Chinese nuclear missile. But the man was less concerned with the fact that the missile was nuclear than with the harm that could come from the contrails.

There was now a view, which the man had apparently prepared, of the missile rising up over the landscape I had previously seen.

The contrails were visually altered by the man, so that they now appeared blood red. The man had colored the contrails red so they would be easier to see. The man wanted people to see something very specific about the shape or the motion of the contrails.

Dream #2

I was in a record store. I was at the front end of the store, looking through some kind of bin attached to the wall. I was flipping through a bunch of CDs.

I found some CDs by the K-Pop rapper G-Dragon. There was some new album that I found by him. I wanted it. It may have had a price tag of $49.99 on it. I may have been holding some other CDs. I took the CD I wanted to the register, at the back of the store.

The man at the register sat down at a desk like a receptionist's desk. The top was higher than the cashier's actual desktop. The man pulled out a "for sale" copy of the CD I'd wanted. There was some price on it like $129.99. I thought that was a horrible price to pay for a CD.

I told the man that I probably didn't want the CD after all. I'd thought it was a lot cheaper. The man didn't seem to quite hear me. He was now opening up the CD case and fumbling through the contents of the CD. There were a few different sleeves, like from G-Dragon's old albums.

I thought that perhaps this CD was actually a collection of all of G-Dragon's albums. But I didn't think he'd actually made enough solo albums to justify a CD for $129.99. Then I realized that G-Dragon had actually made six solo albums. So $129.99 seemed like an okay price, even though I still didn't want the album.

I may have told the man that I'd go back to the front and get the album I'd seen and wanted -- the cheaper album. I then somehow got talking to the man about how I liked G-Dragon. I may then have discussed Big Bang, the band G-Dragon had been a part of.

Dream #3

I was walking down in a tunnel of a subway station. It was a long corridor between different platforms. It was wider than a lot of corridors -- almost as wide as a street and sidewalk.

I walked past a little rock band that seemed to be made up of middle aged men. The band was playing a song that sounded very familiar to me.

I was either the only one or one of the very few people walking down the corridor. But as the band stopped playing, a man and a woman may have walked past the band. They asked the band who had made the song they'd been singing. The band said Sting had made it.

But I suddenly recognized the tune from a L'Arc en Ciel song I liked a lot. In my dream, I mistakenly thought it came from the album SMILE. I had walked past the band. But now, realizing the tune, I turned around and ran back to the band.

The band seemed to be breaking apart, as if they were done with their performance. There seemed to be a couple of Latino guys and maybe an Asian guy, a black guy, and a white guy. I got their attention before they all walked away.

I asked them if the song they had been singing was by L'Arc en Ciel. One of the men told me no, that the song had been written by Sting.

I then told them I thought the song was a lot like a L'Arc en Ciel song on the album SMILE. I told them I would play them some of it from my phone. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and began scrolling through what I thought was my list of albums.

But instead, I was getting nothing but a bunch of photographs of SUVs. There were green, red, beige, and steel-grey SUVs. I had nothing on my phone, apparently, but photos of SUVs.

I was kind of panicked, and I tried to tell the band members that I had completely forgotten how to pull up the songs on my phone. All I could do was pull up photos.

One of the men said something like, "That makes sense. You're down in the subway. You can't access sound. You can only access images."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I may have started out on a subway train. Eventually I was hanging on to the outside of a train as it rode above ground. It was daytime, and the sky was clear blue. The train eventually ran through a weird sort of tunnel, which was nothing more than iron beams creating a frame where a tunnel would have been. The tunnel seemed to run through and over a body of water, which seemed to stretch off to the left forever.

The train became a series of black, chain-link, metal fence cages. The cages were each big enough to hold one person comfortably, although I think I saw a few of my "friends" (random dream characters?) in one cage-car. A lot of the cage-cars may actually have been empty.

I found out somehow that the train was powered completely by electricity. This was supposed to be really great and innovative. I was really excited about this innovation -- electric trains. But these cage-cars (I was still "riding" by hanging on to the outside of one) looked really shoddy and worn-down. I was afraid that the electricity powering the train would travel along the outside of the walls and electrocute me.

I saw the train speeding away, apparently with me still on it, as if my view had left my body.

Dream #2

I was in an office. The office space was kind of small, drab, and grey. I sat in some corner of a wider space like a common area for three or four private offices. Across from my was a receptionist's desk. The receptionist's desk was big and made out of wood. Whatever I was sitting in felt very small -- almost like a plastic chair and desk for a little kid. I saw from a very low angle.

A female co-worker of mine from two jobs ago, AC, walked into one of the offices. My female friend H was in the office. AC gave H some work to do. It had to do with the companies Research in Motion and Red Hat, as well as a couple other mobile communications companies. H was now going to be working on getting information about these companies.

AC walked out of the office with a female co-worker. She told her co-worker, "I always thought ----- (some name that may have had the word "Bubble" in it) was one of my favorite companies. But it doesn't look like it's going to be a success, at least not for a while."

AC and her co-worker left. I wondered how it was that H had managed to get a job doing my old job. (It must actually have been my old boss' job, since she was sitting in an office, not a cubicle.)

I was now outside with H. We were standing outside "her car," all the doors of which were open. The car was full of junk, all kinds of paper stuffed in the front and back seat. H was panicked and complaining bitterly about how she thought she wasn't going to make it in school, and how she wasn't going to get her Ph.D.

I told her that she had nothing to worry about. She was doing a lot of great stuff with her studies. And she had a steady job. So even if she didn't make it in school, she'd have a steady income. I couldn't figure out why H was complaining so intensely all the time.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some kind of auditorium, which also felt like a huge, modern church sanctuary. I sat up in a balcony. The balcony curved all the way around the sanctuary, which had an odd shape, like an octagon. Farther to my left there was another balcony over this balcony. The church was well-lit, almost like the inside of a big-box club store like Sam's Club. The place was packed. We were all here watching President Obama give a speech.

President Obama wasn't at the front of the church, on the stage. Instead, he stood on a small podium in the middle of the crowd. But then he was standing on some little platform hooked to the balcony, so that he wad just a bit lower than eye-level with the top of the balcony's barrier.

Obama gave his speech, which was about all the good things he was doing. One of the things had to do with fostering positive relationships between the US and the Middle East. One of the proofs he gave of this was some partnership being formed between Chile and a supposed Middle Eastern country called Rubia.

Now Obama was taking questions from the audience. I raised my hand to ask a question. But a woman off to my left got to ask her question. After she asked her question, Obama may have said, "Okay. Now who has another question?"

The woman had a mic, so I not only raised my hand, but stood up and walked over to the woman so I could get the mic from her. A lot of other people raised their hands to ask questions. I thought for sure one of them would get to ask, rather than me. But my old boss, DR, was sitting off to the girl's left. He said, "Let ----- ask his question first."

So I got the mic. I was walking back to my seat with the mic. In the meantime, Obama was probably answering the first question. His response had something to do with taxes. But then he also mentioned interest. A white man with blonde hair, a blonde mustache, blue eyes, and a trucker cap, asked me, "How does the government make money doing the kind of stuff Obama's talking about?"

I said, "Well, the government makes money through revenue, which is what they call taxes. And then they also make money through charging on debt ..."

The man and I together said, "... which is interest!"

The man now seemed to understand pretty well.

It was now my turn to ask a question. Obama was now up on the balcony, on some maroon-colored steps between two aisles. I was also standing on the steps, a few steps up from Obama. I asked my question. At first the mic was really quiet.

I asked Obama, "You say you're doing a lot of stuff to make relationships positive in the Middle East. But beyond the example you gave with Chile, which is a country in South America, not the US, and Rubia, which I've never heard of before--"

A young, pretty, blonde man wearing a black windbreaker came up to me as if to take the mic away. I flinched away from him. But he made a poking motion at the mic with a thin, pen-like instrument. I saw a little orange light on the mic. I understood that the man just wanted to turn the volume up on the mic. So I let him do so.

With the volume up, I asked Obama, "So there are a lot of countries I can think of in the Middle East and North Africa. Out of all these countries, when you talk about good relationships with the US --"

The crowd began clapping and cheering loudly.

"-- Where is this?"

Obama seemed like he was about to answer my question. I handed the mic to someone else so they could ask their question. As I did, I thought I'd tell Obama that I was also concerned with Sub-Saharan Africa, although nobody else seemed to care too much.

Dream #2

I was in a car at night, pulling into a parking space before a building. A woman came out and greeted me. She said my hotel was ready. I got out of my car and went up to the hotel room with her. The hotel room was kind of small. It felt like it was a few floors up and inside the building. It felt kind of stuffy.

At some point, perhaps in an elevator, I was -- somehow -- putting myself into a baby's diaper (???). It fit really terribly. I -- somehow -- saw it wedging up into my rear end and sliding halfway off one of my legs. I'm not sure how I did or saw all this, as I was still fully clothed.

I was laying back on the bed, with my arms behind my head, looking up at the ceiling. The woman told me, "Well, then, I'll give you a call and let you know what I can do about your request."

I was kind of surprised by the woman's statement. I didn't remember asking her anything. But I figured I could have been experiencing missing time. So I asked the woman (as if I thought this was a clever way to hide the fact I didn't know what she was talking about), "Sometimes I have trouble remembering the things I just said. Could you tell me what I asked you?"

The woman, standing in the doorway, said, "Sure. You said you were a little disappointed with this room. You had made a reservation for something different. So you asked me if I could find you a more 'high-performance' room."

I remembered having made a reservation for something bigger. In fact, in my mind's eye, I had the view of something more like a small townhouse. And here I was in this dinky, little hotel room. So I guess I was disappointed.

I told the woman, "Thanks. That sounds right. Just give me a call when you figure out where I can be moved."

The woman left the room. I stood up. I walked out of the bedroom and into a second room (???). This room was like another bedroom. But it was totally dark. I walked through the room and into a bathroom. I turned on the lights.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was naked except for a pair of panties over a pair of diapers (???). I took off the panties. The diapers had a yellow and blue color scheme. There was something like a Mickey Mouse pattern on them. They seemed a bit loose and baggy on me.

I thought I should probably go to the bathroom in my diaper and change it before the woman called me. But I also thought that I'd wait until the woman came back before I changed back into my clothes, so I could see how she'd react to me in just a diaper.

So I walked back to my bedroom. I was kind of surprised. I thought the woman would have called me by now to let me know if I could get moved into a "high-performance" hotel room. I thought it would have been pretty immediate. I was wondering if she had gone to look at all.

Now I thought maybe there were secret cameras in my room. Maybe the woman was watching me walk around like this. Maybe she thought she would wait until I was fully dressed before she got in contact with me.

But I also thought that maybe there was something wrong with my credit card. Maybe there wasn't enough money on my card to charge a different room for all the nights I wanted to stay. I thought that was possible.

Dream #3

I was in a living room, laying on the couch. I was possibly getting ready to play a video game. My mom came in and asked me, "So did you finish that accounting stuff?"

I knew what my mom was talking about. In another room there was a computer system that looked a lot like a video game system. The screen had a bunch of red numbers on it. I had to do accounting with all these numbers. It was a real pain in the neck. But I knew I hadn't done it, and that I should just do it.

I sighed in annoyance and stood up. My mom, a little taken aback at my annoyance said, "Well, you don't have to do it right now, if you'd rather relax."

I said, "Nah... f**k it," and shrugge my shoulders.

I went into the room and set up the system. Apparently I controlled the accounting system by using Super Nintendo joysticks.

The scene kind of faded into me standing at the right end of a huge flat-screen TV. The TV had a really glossy surface. The screen must have been a few meters tall. My mom, sister, and maybe a couple other family members stood in front of the screen.

I watched the screen from my side view. At first it scrolled through all the red numbers that were part of the accounting system. Then it shifted to some kind of video game, like a racing game.

My family started talking about the game, how fun it was to play. Suddenly I was standing in front of the video game, playing it. It was like a racing game. It was set in the mountains, and you raced things like mini-hovercrafts. It was kind of like F-Zero for Super Nintendo, except all the figures were really small. The graphics were sometimes more like 8-bit graphics.

Now I was suddenly in the game, on the hovercraft, racing around as Claus Valca, my avatar for the DV website. The view was now like reality, not like video games. I remembered some words of wisdom a really beautiful and busty woman in a maroon-and-black, Victorian-style dress had given me about safety.

I came around a curve in the road. I was driving the wrong way. A bunch of Indy cars came driving around the curve. But they were all invisible. I could only see very faint phantoms of them as they got very close to me. A few of them actually hit me. It didn't hurt me very much. But I knew if too many hit me, my vehicle would be damaged. So I pulled off to the side of the road to let all the invisible Indy cars pass.

Off to the left of the shoulder of the road was a small cliff that led down to a wide, green valley. I drove along the shoulder of the road for a bit, then, possibly accidentally, drifted off the cliff.

I descended quickly toward the valley. I found the valley really beautiful, and I really wanted to see it, although I was pretty sure I'd die if I hit the ground at this speed. I even commented to my family on the beauty of the scene, as if I were still standing somewhere with them, playing the video game.

Then, suddenly, a huge cushion of air propelled me up from the valley. The valley sunk below me, and the air rushed all around me. I felt very elated. I even shouted out with happiness. The view was incredible from this height. I may even have wondered whether I was having an out-of-body experience.

Dream #4

I walked into the living room of "my family's house." The room was really big, and only one side of it was lit. The room seemed to be divided in half by a blue couch. There didn't seem to be much stuff at all on the dark side of the room, in front of the couch. Directly behind the couch there was a table, or maybe an air hockey table, covered and cluttered with all kinds of stuff, a total mess.

My mom sat on the couch, kind of sideways, her left arm resting against the top of the back end of the couch. My brother and sister may have been somewhere as well. It was like I was here, visiting for the holidays. My mom's mom came to visit and drop off some food for me for Christmas.

I was curious as to how this would all turn out. As far as I knew, my mom and grandma were no longer talking with each other. But my grandmother was here, right in front of the couch, as if she were talking with my mom, as I came into the living room. Now that I was here, my grandma could leave. She said something to my mom then headed for the door, which was behind the couch.

My mom didn't seem to be answering my grandma at all. I was a little upset at my mom for not talking to my grandma. But I needed to catch my grandma before she left the house. I headed for the door.

As I reached the door -- my grandma already stood half in and half out -- I looked at the table. Amid all the mess were two containers of food. One was a clear, cylindrical container of some kind of green food, like a casserole made out of spinach. The other container had some kind of fruit stuff in it. Both containers, even though they'd only been on the table a few moments, were all messy and gross.

My mom finally spoke to my grandma. She said something completely irrelevant to what my grandma had said. She said something kind of weird that was supposed to prove she was taking care of something very business-like with my oldest nephew or all my nephews.

My grandma didn't respond to my mom. My grandma was wearing a blue, cotton dress with tiny, white, paisley designs on it. The collar may have been a bit elastic, slightly bunchy. The sleeves may have been the same. My grandma also wore eyeglasses that looked extremely clean, but also very, very thick. My grandma alos looked a bit younger than IWL.

My grandma said, "Well, -----, Merry Christmas. I'm glad I got to see you. And I love you." And now she was leaving. I felt terrible that I only got to see my grandma for this very short amount of time. And I really didn't even get to speak to her!

Dream #5

I was walking in front of "the New York Public Library," even though the building looked more like the Metropolitan Museum of Art, out on a wide, cobblestone walkway, like where Trinity Church and the Public Library are in Boston. There were a lot of makeshift stands outside, selling all kinds of art and souvenirs.

There were a lot of women heading toward the library. I heard a couple women talking behind me. One of them said, "Yeah, I'm only coming to the library because they're having that speech for lesbian empowerment."

I wondered about the event the woman was talking about. I was hoping it wouldn't be too big. It could make getting around in the library a huge chore, with all kinds of crowds of people in there.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was with a couple of "friends." One of the friends looked like a person who has attended a lot of the anime events I've gone to IWL. He's white, kind of pale, tall, with jaw-length, brown hair and eyeglasses. This friend was organizing some kind of theatre event. He had gotten me and my other friend to volunteer.

We had first been discussing the details of this event in some bar. The bar hadn't seemed very well-lit, and it also seemed a bit empty. Then we were discussing the details out on some hilltop, out on the driveway of a house in a residential part of town, probably in the kind of early morning.

The theatre friend said, "We'll have a lot to do. We'll barely have time to go home and go to bed at 11 AM, before we have to wake up at 1 PM and do the second show."

As I realized how much work my other friend and I had volunteered for, I saw, probably in my mind's eye, dark grey clouds rolling overhead. I told the theatre friend, "I don't think we can do both shifts. At least my friend can't. We didn't realized we'd be going all the way through 11 AM. And we already signed up to volunteer at another event. Your second show will overlap with that event. At least my friend has to go to this event."

At this point the friend I was defending may have been my brother.

I was now in a small theatre. It was either before or after a show. The theatre was only half lit. The stage didn't have any light on it at all. The area felt like a cafeteria in an elementary school's basement. The walls may have been sea green. The seating area was made up of folding chairs. There were a good amount of people sitting in the chairs. Some people were also milling around in the empty space behind the seating area.

I sat near the back row of seats and near the aisle. So I turned myself around to look at the people milling around in the back area. Most of the people looked pretty normal. But there were a couple of older black women wearing very flashy, dressy outfits. They stood out from everybody else and seemed to demand being treated in a very special way. They each sat in chairs against the very back wall, at some distance from each other.

One of the women wore a turquoise dress and hat. The dress seemed almost to have been made out of a crepe material. The hat had a big, round, kind of floppy brim. My theatre friend immediately came up to the woman and started saying all kinds of nice things to her. But I could tell he was trying to get something out of her. So I telepathically told her to watch out for the man.

We were now watching a movie which was supposed to be Back to the Future. There were a few scenes, kind of randomly put together, which gave the feel that the movie was more about a group of kids working together to create a time machine than anything having to do with Doc Brown or Marty McFly.

One of the scenes showed Amy Irving, like she looked in the Brian DePalma version of Carrie. The view was of the girl's face, framed in a misty circle, looking up toward some kind of blue, moonlight, garden light and singing some kind of rock song. The girl's eyes glowed bright blue or green. I liked the girl's glowing eyes and the rock song a lot.

There were also a couple of scenes, apparently from the future, showing some kind of time travel bridge being built. The scenes were all in some kind of way overexposed, really pixellated video. The coloring was almost black and white. But it was more like the sky was all colored brownish-grey, while all the solid bodies were pure black silhouettes.

The bridge was somehow being built backwards. I watched (maybe through time lapse?), the "tracks" (?) of the bridge being built backwards through a frame of standing columns. It seemed to be in a mountain setting. I then watched a similar process near an ocean shore. This bridge had a sign over it, kind of in an old, Coca-Cola-esque style. It said something like "B-Way Bridge" or "B'Way Bridge."

I then woke up in my room. I stood up and looked down at the floor. Something seemed not quite right about my room. I walked really slow. I could hear my breathing rushing though my head, like I was wearing a space helmet.

Something seemed really weird about my floor, like it was made out of grey-painted concrete, especially where the floor met the wall. I then saw that my table was pushed away, at least 33cm away, from my wall. I thought it was possible that I could have pushed my table away from the wall. But not that far away.

I looked up and noticed that the walls in my room were now painted green. Some of the walls were a dark, pine green, while at least one of the walls was a slightly lighter shade.

I told myself, "Well, obviously I'm dreaming. My walls aren't green in waking life."

I figured since I was dreaming I would try to fly out of my house and out and around my neighborhood, to see what kind of views I could gather. But I must not have been totally lucid. I went flying toward my bedroom "window," which was actually a thick, ornate, wooden wall. This didn't seem to register with my "lucid" mind at all.

I was about to penetrate through the wall when something stopped me. A very polite woman's voice spoke to me through telepathy. It said, "We're sorry, but at this moment we cannot access the outdoor scene you would like to experience. Would you like to have a Gothic lucid dream instead?"

I said, "Oh, well, yeah, okay. That sounds nice." But I didn't want to have a Gothic lucid dream. I just wanted to go outside, into my neighborhood and gather data on the environment. I think I was thinking that I was having an out of body experience as well as a lucid dream, and I really wanted to gather some hard evidence of it. So I was disappointed that I couldn't get out there.

Dream #2

I stood inside a room, looking out to some area like a dock on a river. It was a nice, sunny day. The dock area was all a kind of beige-white concrete. A man was out working in front of two cars. The two cars themselves seemed to be junked. They also seemed to be wrapped up in coppery brown garbage bags, or in adhesive tape with the coppery brown color of VCR cassette tape.

The cars were parked one in front of the other. Either the hood of the front car was open, or else the windshield of the front car was completely missing. A huge object like a leather suitcase, possibly also all wrapped up in tape, was jutting out.

The suitcase-like object was open, revealing the snout and tip of the jaw of what appeared to be a gigantic lizard. Just given the size of the snout and jaw, the head of this creature must have been taking up the entire interior of this car! The jaw had leathery-looking, brown scales all over it.

I was now outside, near the cars, even though I could no longer see the dragon's head. I was with another man, but not the man who had been working outside while I had been inside. That man had been like a dock worker. This man was a wealthy business man. He was really tall and strong. He carried himself well. He wore a nice suit and a clean, beige overcoat.

I came to understand that the dragon had been killed. The cars were used as containers for transporting the dragon's body. Nobody had thought dragons existed. But this dragon had been discovered by accident. Possibly it had emerged from the sea.

Luckily the dragon had been killed before it could kill anybody. But people were (or I was?) worried that there were a lot more of these dragons, and that it wouldn't be so easy to kill them every time they posed a threat.

I told the man that this whole thing seemed to have been foreseen in a science fiction book written by a Russian man. I tried to tell the man the author's name. It was something like Gogol or Sergei. Finally I settled on one of the author's names, possibly his first name, being Selkei.

I saw a view of the book I'd bought (which seemed to have the name Selkei as the second name). The book was paperback. The cover was kind of glossy. There were a lot of swirly, black and white stripes all over the front cover and on the first few pages of the book.

The author was apparently either from the early twentieth century, like from the 1920s, or else his life was so impoverished in the late twentieth century that it was like he lived during the 1920s. But his sci-fi writings had a lot of subversive political content, and a lot of it seeemed to have been really prescient.

The man with me may now have been closer to me. We were still out on the dock -- or out on some shore cliff -- but we stood behind some kind of screen-like display, like a big text display at a museum. The man told me, "You just go into places, like bookstores and libraries, and you seek out these guys, don't you? You don't know who they are. But you know what you're looking for. And you find them.

"But people think, when they see you with all this stuff, that you've stolen it somehow. They don't understand the work you've made to discover it. They just think you've stolen it all.

"This book, for instance --" The man and I turned toward some kind of black, basalt cliffside as the man opened up a wide, short book full of pages that looked like coloring book bages. The pages were all colored in. They had drawings on them reminiscent of Henry Darger. But they were apparently supposed to have been by William Blake.

One drawing showed a little girl, colored pale peach and in a pale yellow dress, against a maroon-colored hillside. The drawing looked kind of crude, and the girl seemed very lonely, especially in the context of a Darger-like drawing such as this.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a dark room that was kind of like a living room mixed with a small, cafeteria-style restaurant. The room was lit on the outer edges by dim, but vividly-colored, lights, like weak LEDs. But the lights barely lit anything at all, so the room was mostly dark. There a few other people in the room, mostly my family members.

My mom was sitting on one of the sides of the room. She asked me to get her a drink. She may have asked me to "go out" and get her a drink. I may have been planning to go outside, to some store, to get my mom a drink.

But I went to a small drinks case that sat on a counter. The drinks case (unlit) had a few Red Bull-shaped cans of pink lemonade in it. I may have thought that I would take one of these cans of pink lemonade to give me energy on my errand to pick up whatever drink it was my mom wanted me to get her from the outside.

There were two different flavors of pink lemonade (i.e. another flavor added in with the pink lemonade flavor). I saw one flavor that I knew my mom liked. I figured that was the drink she wanted. The other flavor I thought I would take for myself. But I didn't really like the flavor. I wanted to see if my favorite flavor was available, but I couldn't remember what it was.

I was then coming back from or finally going out on my errand. But some of my family members, particularly my brother, thought I was an old man and that I wouldn't be able to make the trip. For some reason, I took a pair of black socks with me to prove I was strong enough to make the trip. But the socks had holes in their heels.

I was now feeling old and very tired. I kind of collapsed on the ground in the middle of the room, laying on my side. I figured I just needed a bit of a rest, and then I could get up and run my errand.

Dream #2

I was walking through a neighborhood that was like the neighborhood where my cousins lived when we were kids. But something about the feeling of the place was much larger and lonelier. It was like all the houses were twice their size, and the neighborhood was hidden away in a series of winding streets. The sky may have been grey, and the day a little damp and chilly, like it was going to rain.

I knew that if I walked up one of the side blocks I could go see my cousins' old house. But I didn't want to risk going up that block and running into my aunt. So I decided not to go up that way.

The road I was walking on ended up turning into a park. It was slightly secluded, but it was a nice, wide, long lawn with some rolling hills and some trees. I was walking on an asphalt path on the lawn. After a while, a dog came running up from behind me.

I recognized the dog. It was a dog I liked quite a bit. I thought it was my aunt's dog. I saw a figure sitting in a bench far back in the park. I thought that was my aunt. She (?) May have been wearing an orange shirt. I didn't want to acknowledge the dog because I didn't want my aunt coming over and talking to me.

But the dog seemed really happy to see me. We ran over to the right side of the park. We began playing and rough-housing a little bit.

Dream #3

A pretty, blonde girl, maybe about eleven to thirteen years old, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, said, "Everybody says p***y is so great. They act like it tastes and smells like the greatest thing in the world. Well, I'm a lesbian. So I know. And I don't think p***y is that great at all. It doesn't taste that great. And it doesn't smell good."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was laying down in a living room. There may have been a small party going on somewhere in the house. I was laying on the floor, possibly under a blanket, and surrounded on either side by a lot of clutter. The room was partly dim, as if near me there was a small, incandescent lamp, while everywhere else the room was unlit. Beyond my feet, in the distance, I may have seen the bathroom, which may also have been lit.

A small, blonde woman straddled me and lay down on me. The woman was really thin, and her body was really tight. She was almost as short as a twelve year old girl. The girl wore a short skirt of some kind of colorful, plaid material and a g-string (I saw it in my mind's eye, not with my "normal" vision).

I also had my clothes on. But it almost felt like we were both naked and having sex. The woman's body felt really good up against me.

I thought we should go to a bedroom, so that we could actually take our clothes off and have real sex, instead of whatever we were doing right now. We stood up and walked into a room just off to my right. We stood in the bright room, before a bed that was kind of high -- the mattresses came up just about to my sternum.

The woman and I may have been getting ready to have sex. But suddenly I got an image in my head of my friend H. I thought that since she apparently liked me, I shouldn't be having sex with anybody else.

I was back out in the living room, laying on the floor, possibly waiting for H to come lay with me. I found some of the blonde woman's panties. There were a few pairs of her panties, just laying on the floor to my left, amid the rest of the clutter. I picked up two pairs of panties. They were incredibly small. One pair was silvery. One was white cotton. Both had a skinny kind of cut.

I decided to try the panties on. They were so small that I could hardly get them on my legs. I figured I wouldn't get anywhere close to being able to put them on. I think I was trying to put both pairs on at once. As soon as the fabric of the panties touched my crotch, I came.

Dream #2

I was sitting at my table, holding a book like an old hardcover version of her book Raven's Wing, with the orange cover and blocky, black lettering. But the book wasn't Raven's Wing. I held the book closed and upright, with the back cover mostly facing toward me. The room I was in was remarkably like my apartment, except that it was a tiny bit bigger.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was coming up toward a house. It seemed like something bad must have happened there. I came up to a black iron fence surrounding the house. It was only a few meters away from the door.

Just inside the gate, on some kind of stone walkway up to the front door, were the remains of a squirrel that had been killed. I thought the squirrel had been killed by a human. The squirrel had probably been beheaded and then sliced up the middle, on its underside, like a fish being gutted.

Just in front of the door was a mailbox. The mailbox either stood alone or stood out against the wall. The mailbox itself was really thick and wide.

On top of the mailbox were parts of the killed squirrel. It was probably the squirrel's head, but the head seemed really skinny, and it seemed to be attached to a long, bony thing, covered in fur, and which I thought of as an arm.

I was a little scared by the sight, as if the squirrel pieces meant that some bad scene of carnage was inside, maybe even a human murder scene. But I also thought that perhaps the scene of carnage was what I was here for -- what I was here to see.

I went into the house. The door was a side door, and it opened directly into a side hallway of the house. The floor of the hallway was made of white linoleum tile. I passed a couple rooms that seemed half-finished, kind of like laundry rooms. The hallway was shaped like an upside-down "L," with the base of the "L" turning off to my right.

At the intersection there was a huge pile of crap. The pile itself was huge, but the pieces of crap themselves were enormous. I thought that only an animal would crap on the floor like this. But the crap looked too huge for any domestic animal to make. So I thought maybe a human -- a big human -- crapped on the floor.

I walked into the living room and saw a smaller pile of crap on the pale beige carpet. But the pieces of crap were still so huge that I thought only a human could have made them. I walked around a coffee table and stood in between the coffee table and a couch. An old, clunky TV stood on a TV stand off to my left.

Suddenly a big, black poodle (!) jumped at me, to attack me. It got good height as it jumped over the coffee table, and it would have bitten me in the face. But I slapped it away, knocking it to the carpet, in between the coffee table and the TV stand.

The poodle was no longer vicious. It was like it was my friend, or my own dog. I considered that this dog may have made all the crap that was all over the floor. The dog was huge, especially for a poodle, and it had a kind of fat body. So maybe it could have made huge pieces of crap.

I tapped the dog sharply on its flank with some kind of stick -- maybe a dried, tan bamboo stick? I said, "Turn around!" I wanted to get a look at the dog's anus. If the dog's anus had crap all over it, I'd know that the dog had crapped all over the house.

The dog turned around. I noticed that a lot of the fur all over the dog's body was grey as well as black, as if the dog were getting older.

I spent a couple seconds looking at the dog's anus. It was completely naked, barren of fur, so I saw it alright. It looked totally clean, and pretty small. I thought there was no way the dog could have crapped all over the floor. It's anus was too clean -- and too small. So I still didn't know what -- or who -- had crapped all over the house.

Dream #2

I was possibly watching some sort of television show. There were three Vietnamese or Vietnamese-American children. They stood in some strange, half-indoor, half-outdoor area.

The space felt like a living room somehow, but it also felt like the corridors of some kind of shopping area in a big, Asian city. There was a lot of warm, orange, red, and pink light glowing into the atmosphere.

The children themselves stood behind some kind of wooden bars, like the bars of a nice crib or playpen for babies. The bars met a carpet floor, which stood up on a tiny step, maybe 20cm high. The floor before the step was possibly also carpeted.

The children were a musical group. They had won some kind of singing contest on a Vietnamese talent program. They now had to go to some further kind of televised championship.

But the children were all worried, and they called out, "No! Wait! We can't do it yet!" It was like they'd forgotten their song, or gotten stage fright. They felt like if they went to the championship (which may have only been down the hall) at this moment, they'd screw up their luck and totally ruin their chances.

I was half in the scene and half watching the scene on TV. I wanted to tell the kids that there was no need to worry, that plenty of groups had felt the same way before they'd gone on to their championship performance, but that they'd done just fine.

In fact, I could remember one specific group that was actually Vietnamese as well and had gone through the same emotional difficulties as the children were going through right now. But I couldn't remember the group's name. I tried really hard, but I couldn't remember.

I was now in a big room with my mom. The room was like a living room, but the floor was white, linoleum tile, like in a kitchen. The light was bright and white. The room was huge, and there was barely anything in it except a couch, a TV stand, a TV, and some random clutter, like blankets, so that the place felt very barren.

My mom stood in front of the TV, messing around with something, like she was trying to run a tape in a VCR. I told my mom, "You tell those kids there's nothing to worry about. I know another Vietnamese girl that had the same kind of worries. But she ended up winning. She actually had a great song. I'll show it to you."

I couldn't remember the Vietnamese singer's name. But I pulled my phone out of my pocket, as if I could find her on YouTube and show her to my mom. I thought that, if I just looked for the singer in some random way, I'd probably find her. I could remember the singer's song, and the video, which had a lot of pink, orange, and red atmosphere.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a huge building like a church. The building was actually made up of a few different kinds of buildings, all joined together. Some of the sections may actually have been more like a school building. But the part I was in was like a huge, dim sanctuary in a church.

There were other people in the sanctuary, but only a few. I was at a distance from most of them. A priest was also in the sanctuary.

I was concerned because a girl (possibly H, though at least at certain points in the dream she may have been a blonde woman) was really upset about something. The woman was at the very other end of the building. But I knew she was so upset that she was planning on leaving this building, and the neighborhood it was in, altogether.

I knew I needed to stop her. But I didn't know how I could. I knew I'd have a chance to stop her: she'd have to walk past this end of the building as she ran away. I imagined the woman in a gauzy dress, almost as fancy and long as a wedding dress, running away through a mostly barren ball field that was just outside the sanctuary. A door in the sanctuary was actually open to this ball field right now.

Everybody seemed to be concerned about the woman. The priest told me, "Well you just have her come outside to meet me. I'll play some sports with her, and that'll get her to stay."

I thought the priest was being kind of stupid. I thought to my experience with people professed to be "analysts" in the business world. I thought how they always thought they had such great solutions to problems. But, really, I reflected, they just messed things up even more than they had previously been messed up. The priest kind of reminded me of an analyst. So I didn't want to trust him.

Soon the woman (who may now definitely have been H) went running through the ball field. I ran out and stopped her. For some reason, H, the priest, and I all started playing something like hockey in the ball field.

The three of us at first just seemed to be knocking the puck back and forth to each other. Then it eventually seemed like we were playing against each other, as if each of us were a separate team.

We each had a hockey stick made out of some kind of metal, like the metal on doors or coverings for sidewalks, with criss-crossings of metal nubs all along the surface. The sticks were painted red and blue. At some point, the sticks may have been made out of something like very thin balsa wood.

The priest, H, and I were all in a kind of fun scuffle, trying to get at the puck. I didn't feel like I was being brave enough about getting into the middle of things. So I worked my way in even more. The priest said, "What are you doing in the middle of things like this? You aren't supposed to be out here like this. You're a goalie!"

I realized the priest was right. I was a little ashamed of myself. I walked over to some area that I now designated the goal. I figured when ----- (I don't know which of the two) shot, I'd stay brave and do my best to catch the puck, no matter how hard the puck was or how much it hurt my hands. I also figured I'd stick my hand in amongst the fighting sticks to grab the puck, even if the sticks hurt my hands.

I looked behind myself. I may have seen a beige curtain of heavy, velvety material. The curtain seemed to be as big as the curtain for a big theatre.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

No vision, or just black. A voice said how "an entire fjord" (???) in France had collapsed into the sea.

Dream #2

A bunch of people, possibly including me, were on a huge ship like a cruise ship. A disaster had occurred -- possibly that another gigantic cruise ship had come apart and sunk. Almost everybody on board had been killed. The people on this new cruise ship were now out in the ocean, not to find the living people, but to pull out of the water a lot of dead people who were floating to the surface.

The ship coasted over the black waters and under a yellow sky. A young woman with coppery skin and long, black hair stood out on the deck of the ship. She spotted the body of a young man who had apparently drowned. She threw out a rope to grab the boy's body. She pulled the body onto the ship.

The woman was now in a cabin right on deck. The body of the young man was laid out on the floor of the front room of the cabin. The woman had walked into a back room. She now walked out to the front room. I may have seen from her viewpoint at this time.

The young man on the floor was possibly Asian, with coppery skin. He wore a yellow t-shirt and darkish khaki shorts or casual pants. He was a little bit overweight and shaved bald. He looked older than his age, somehow. I attributed it to the stress of his death and the effect of the water on his body.

But now the young man began to make motions with his mouth. He slowly mouthed some words and made some cringing expressions with his eyebrows, as if he were in extreme pain, and as if he were still afraid of dying. He may have coughed some water out of his mouth.

There were some other people in the cabin, possibly including the Captain. It was recognized, possibly by the Captain, that the woman had saved the young man's life. I'm pretty sure I saw from my own viewpoint at this point, not from the woman's. The woman said that she had a feeling, when she saw the boy in the water, that he was still alive, or that he could be resuscitated.

Dream #3

I was watching a comedy. But it was also like I was reviewing the movie, after I'd seen it. Reviewing the movie, I commented that I had no idea there was going to be a scene with such crude humor in it.

I could only partly remember the scene, and I kept trying to see it, but it had something to do with abortion. It was like it was blocked from my view by a lot of sillhouettes of people's heads.

I then saw another scene, in which a group of "average guys," like in a comedy for guys, were all standing next to each other before a table filled with jars of aborted babies. The guys had to pull the babies out of the jars for some kind or humane reason. But they were all kind of bumbling about at the task so much that they were actually disfiguring the bodies.

The men were using weird implements to get the babies out of the jars. One of the men used a huge knife, to which the baby stuck, like a magnet. The baby's back may have looked charred. The baby may also have had eyes with no whites, which were all a dark grey-blue.

I felt bad because for some reason I had taken my mom to this movie with me. I had thought it was just an ordinary comedy. But those two abortion-comedy scenes were really gross, and I was afraid my mom would be freaked out by them.

My mom and I were in a car, pulling into a space in a big parking lot. I tried to justify the grossness of the comedy in the movie by explaining that the film had been made by the guy who made There's Something about Mary.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I stood with another person, looking out over a large body of water, like a really large river. The day was bright, the sky almost white, and the sun glittered on the surface of the water.

There was some kind of vessel out on the water. It looked like a mix between a ship and a dock. It looked like it was made out of wood as well as metal.

Another vessel or huge machine was either near or on land to my right. It was firing some kind of explosive devices at the vessel. This big vessel was an enemy vessel, and it was openly firing at the vessel in the water, which belonged to America. But nobody was really doing anything about it.

The explosives were being launched really clumsily, often missing by a long ways. And the explosives that actually hit the vessel didn't really seem to be doing much damage at all.

I started to think that if I stood here watching this whole thing for too long, somebody would start to blame me personally for the explosive devices attacking the vessel. I figured I should just get away from this whole scene.

I started talking with the person standing near me about the explosives. Not long after this, we saw a huge missile launch up into the air. It looked like one of the rockets that launched the Apollo missions into space, except that it was flattish, almost having the shape of a plastic cigarette-lighter. It launched really slowly into the air and up through clouds.

Dream #2

I was probably finishing crossing a street, walking up to a corner, on a city street that looked like an area of Manhattan with a lot of housing projects.

There was a little, blonde girl lying flat on her back on the sidewalk, her feet pointed toward the curb. The girl looked maybe eight or nine years old. She wore a pink or orange summer dress, the skirt of which was pulled up all the way above her stomach.

It seemed like the girl was either dead or dying. She was so still and expressionless. I could feel (somehow) a lack of consciousness in the girl. I could also see or feel a sinking away of the life in her.

A Latino man with long hair in a pony-tail and wearing a baseball cap was near the girl, trying to help her. The girl may have fallen while the man was around, and the man may have softened her fall, laying her down gently. But now, as I lingered to figure out exactly what was going on, the man seemed to be trying to stand the girl back up.

I figured the Latino man was the little girl's father, or some kind of relative. I told the man it looked like the girl needed medical help, not help standing up. The man insisted the girl was fine. But I asked him, "Did you even call an ambulance?" The man may now have been Chinese. He told me he hadn't called an ambulance.

I told the man that I would call an ambulance. I said it wouldn't mean there was necessarily anything wrong with the girl. But it was always just better to check in with medics to make sure nothing was wrong.

I put a flip-open cell phone to my ear and called the ambulance. I thought to myself how dumb this guy was for not calling an ambulance. The girl was obviously really sick. I started to wonder whether the guy was going to get in trouble for not having called an ambulance. I wondered whether he was trying to hide something that was his fault.

As I waited for 911 to take my call, I walked down the sidewalk a bit. There was a platform of scaffolding built over a section of the sidewalk. On the blue, wooden wall of the scaffolding, maybe 3 meters in the air, there were two signs.

Both signs were made out of tarp-like material. They were set side-by-side. They were probably pink. The messages on them were written in Chinese characters, which were a dull shade of blue. The sign on the left had a photo as well as a message on it. The photo may have been of a little girl.

I was able to read the messages (???). They basically spoke about how, due to rampant racism within an apartment complex almost all the residents of which were Chinese, certain residents of the complex were being forced out.

I got the idea that these people had basically just been intimidated by their neighbors until they left. They hadn't been forced out in any legal sense. The people who lived in the complex would have struck anybody else as being also Chinese. But they may have been Muslim as well, or something like that. So the other Chinese people didn't like them.

It turned out that the building had some kind of disease running through it. The situation was either that the disease was more prevalent among the people getting purged, or else that the people being purged were developing the disease more violently, now that they were basically living on the street.

I went back to the little girl, who was now "Chinese" (even though she actually looked like a Latina girl). The little girl was sitting up, completely conscious, even kind of cheerful. I knew that she had whatever the sickness was, and that she could get really sick. The ambulance was coming to pick her up for a check up and medication.

I put my left arm around the girl's shoulders. The ambulance backed up to us, and the back doors were open to receive the girl. A medic lifted the girl out of my arms and into the ambulance. A medic (possibly the same one?) told me, "That girl has tuberculosis. It's really contagious. You were too close to her. You should probably get checked, too."

I kind of resigned myself to having the disease, even though I was a little afraid. My mom was now standing over me. She told me, "I went to the store the other day and got a disease testing hit. It can diagnose if you have the disease. So that way you know way ahead of time and you can treat yourself before you feel all the pain."

I stood up and followed my mom. We were now in something like an unfinished bedroom. The bedroom had a concrete floor and barren, white walls. It was lit with a stark, incandescent light.

My mom pulled out this stretch of cotton padding, like a piece of padding that might be stretched out atop a bed mattress. She laid it out on the floor -- it was actually rolled up, like some kind of stiff, plasticky material, and she had to kind of unroll it and "snap" it into a flat position.

My mom told me that you tested yourself by laying down on the mattress. I felt like the testing really wouldn't work, and that the whole thing was just a big ripoff. I wasn't going to lay down on the thing, because I felt like it would do more harm than good. But I didn't want to disappoint my mom, and I was thinking of a way to stall her.

My mom rolled up the mattress, which she'd laid out in the middle of the room. She walked over to the right and back side of the room, near a doorway to a dark room or hallway, and laid the mattress out again.

As my mom did this, she told me, "These testing kits were on sale at Wal-Mart. So I bought ten or twelve of them. I'm planning on giving them to people as Christmas presents."

I thought, Oh my god, Mom! You bought twelve of these damn things? You really got ripped off! For some reason I went over and lay down on the mattress my mom had laid out.

I either sat up, or was helped up. My mom was gone, and my friend H was now in the room. There was somehting in the center of the room that looked like a hearth, for a fire, except that there were a lot of stones in it. H and I walked over to the left, front side of the room and sat down near an old-style, rotary-dial telephone that sat on the floor.

H picked up the phone and started talking with one of her friends. I watched her on the phone. My view was really low, almost level with the floor, so that the phone's base seemed really big in my view.

H spoke to one of her female friends about a gift she had given to Y, another female friend of hers. It may have been something like a coffee mug with a photo on it. But when she mentioned the gift, H asked her friend, "What did S (a male friend of hers) think about it? Did S like it and pay attention to it?"

I heard a little bit of H's friend's response. H and her friend spoke a bit more. Finally I got the idea that H and her friend were speaking in code.

H hadn't been in contact with Y for a while. They'd had some kind of argument. But before the argument, H and Y had actually been secret lesbian lovers. So now H heard Y was having something like a birthday party. But H wasn't invited. So H sent a present to Y.

Ostensibly the gift was supposed to have something to do with H's male friend S, as if to signify that H liked boys, especially S. But the gift was really, secretly, supposed to show Y that H was still in love with Y. H was now on the phone with her other female friend to see if Y had gotten the right message, and if Y was also still in love with H.

H was kind of treating me like I was her boyfriend, even though she never real showed it. So she didn't want me to know that she was actually in love with Y. So she was speaking in code with her friend.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A man was talking to another man. I didn't see either man, as if they were both talking in narration. One man mentioned a new "excrement omelette," which was a layer of eggs wrapped around a thin filling of crap. I saw a cross-section of one of these "excrement omelettes." It looked like a Hot Pocket, except the crust was egg and the filling was crap.

The second guy said, "That's a terrible idea! It sounds disgusting!"

The first guy said that it couldn't be such a bad idea. Apparently some really famous supermodel ate them all the time and thought they were really delicious.

Dream #2

I had come to some nice, two-story house in the suburbs. I was in the living room, which was kind of dim and grey. There were a few other people there, some of whom were probably members of my family. I seemed to be always looking up toward the ceiling, and my view sometimes seemed kind of low, as it I were looking up from about waist height.

At first I knew I had come here to be here for my family, maybe my cousin in particular. But now I was upstairs, in a bedroom, probably a characteristic young man's bedroom. I now realized that I was here to see my cousin off. He was shipping out for Afghanistan soon. This may have been my cousin's old room.

I thought about giving my cousin a gift. But I hadn't gotten him anything before I had come here. I starting looking around in the room, as if the room were some kind of gift shop, even though it was still the same old room. I found two shot glasses on a shelf. I took the two glasses off the shelf. It was like I was seeing this from a really low point, like waist height.

The two shot glasses had weird, notched bases and a black-line portrait of some famous person. I thought that would be appropriate, as my cousin either liked that person or the place associated with that person. I also found something else I could give my cousin, but I can't remember what it was.

I may have gone back downstairs. I may also have seen my cousin.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I stood before a group of people including Alice Liddell and Xie Kitchin. Alice and Xie stood on either side of something like a tree, although the tree was probably indoors. Something like an old scroll-sign may have been posted to the tree, and there may have been a staircase leading up to the tree. A few other people were around Alice and Xie, possibly including Lewis Carroll.

Either I or Lewis Carroll had brought gifts for Alice and Xie. The gifts were in thin, plastic bags, like the kind you might get at a bookstore. Caroll had given the gift to Xie with some amount of ceremony, but had neglected the same kind of presentation with Alice.

Caroll may have given Alice her present first, then given Xie her present. But he now rushed back over to Alice. He may have thought it was too late for making a presentation. So he may not have done much of anything at all. Both girls' gift-bags were lying at their feet.

Now Alice was walking around by herself in a space that was like a small path in a forest, except inside something like a mall. In fact, the "forest path" area was occasionally so narrow that it was like Alice was simply walking on the edge of some planter, right in the middle of a shopping mall's corridor.

As all this went on, Lewis Carroll went on to tell a story about how Alice had gotten a bug stuck in her nose. But somehow the bug was good, and Alice knew this. The bug may have been light green and maybe 10-15cm long. Alice knew that if she blew the bug out of her nose that something good would happen, so that Alice would have a good rest of the day.

But somehow, the story went, Alice thought that the second part of the day was always grumpy. So Alice was curious how the second part of the day could actually be happy.

So, Carroll narrated, Carroll told Alice that the first part of the day knew that the second part of the day was always grumpy. So the first part of the day would hide and avoid the second part of the day. But then the first part of the day would sneak up and surprise the first part of the day, somehow influencing the second part of the day to be good.

Dream #2

I was probably in something like a train (or a pickup truck?) with my sister and another woman, who was probably my sister's friend. It was a sunny day, and the sky was clear and deep blue. We rode along something that looked like a big lake. But it may actually have been an area hit by a really bad flood. The water actually looked peaceful, and it reflected the blue of the sky.

I told my sister that perhaps the flood hadn't been so bad after all. In fact, I didn't think the "power plant" had been damaged, like my sister had apparently thought. My sister may now have felt that I had been right.

But, even as we were talking, we came up to the power plant. It was at the other end of this "flood lake" from us, although now we were directly across from it. At first, it may have looked okay. But then, we saw, it was completely smashed and still half under the floodwaters. It looked like it had actually been only a substation. Now it was a bunch of smashed steel frames, wires, coils, and fencing. I told my sister it looked like she had been right after all.

Dream #3

I was in a small room, which may have been part of a library or museum. The room actually felt like a room in an old castle. The walls were like stucco. The walls each had wide, arched entryways on them. The room was kind of dim, with natural light seeming to come in from some indiscernable place.

There was a crowd of teenagers packed in the room, watching L'Arc en Ciel perform on a stage. I was alternately in the crowd and on the stage, singing, as if, from time to time, I became Hyde.

Then I was in the crowd, outside the room, in a kind of narrow hallway, which was just as packed with people. Somebody made an announcement that a line was now forming for the special L'Arc en Ciel concert, which would be held later on. The line was first come first serve, and only a few people would get into the concert.

I saw the line forming in the crowd in which I stood, like a current in the ocean. I thought that I should try to get in the line. After all, I thought of myself as a pretty big L'Arc en Ciel fan. But I was already sick of the crowd, and I didn't want to have to deal with the jerks in line on top of that. So I figured I'd forget it.

I was now walking through a big area, like a covered porch in an old monastery, although I may still have been inside. The crowd was still pretty thick here, although I finally had some personal space.

I was then standing before a woman who sat at a bench. The woman was maybe in her mid to late fifties. She had obviously been thin all her life, though she now seemed to be gaining weight, and she looked a little dumpy. She had pale, brown hair and fair skin. Her face was kind of square, lined with wrinkles. She had pale eyes. But the whites of her eyes looked misted over with purple, almost as if bruised.

The woman was either fully or mostly blind. She carried a walking cane. She may have been trying to explain to me how I needed to keep my emotional grounding regarding some kind of problem in my life.

I was really concerned by the purple coloring on the woman's eyes. I asked the woman how she'd become blind. The woman may have started telling me her story.

Dream #4

I was in the driveway of "my boss' house." It was a nice, sunny day. There were a lot of cars in the driveway, and there may have been a lot of people and activity on the driveway and in the garage, which was open.

Someone explained that my boss had been arrested for murder. The police were in the house, getting my boss. My boss' wife and daughter now came out of the house, hugging each other and crying. The daughter was blonde, wore a pink dress, and was maybe six or seven years old. She barely came up to her mother's waist. Apparently the little girl had been a victim of my boss' craziness.

Now the police were bringing out my boss. Someone mentioned that my boss thought I was stalking him. Part of the paranoia that had led him to murder was the thought that I was stalking him and somehow mind-controlling him, so that he'd become a killer. So I thought that, as my boss was brought out, I'd hide a little, so he wouldn't think I was there, "still" stalking him.

But the police brought my boss out too soon for me to hide. My boss was very pale, like my boss is IWL. But he looked a lot more manly. His face was kind of rugged and square, instead of being round and flabby. He also had stubble on his face. His hair was short, kind of wiry, maybe pale brown or red. My boss wore a pale, denim shirt. He looked really worn out by whatever he'd been through.

As the police were putting my boss in the car, my boss got a view of me. But I couldn't tell what he thought of seeing me. I and someone else got in another car and pulled away. I thought if my boss saw me leaving, he wouldn't think I'd been stalking him.

I was now somewhere, possibly in front of my boss' house again. I heard that my boss had actually murdered his daughter. The murder had actually been part of some ritual, maybe satanic.

My mom and I were now pulling up to my boss' house in a car. It was dark outside. It was either very late night or very early morning. We were here to pick up my sister. My sister had been in the house when my boss had committed the murders (my boss had possibly also murdered his wife). My sister was now "acting" as if she was house-sitting while my boss was in prison. This was so my boss wouldn't think my sister either knew about or felt uncomfortable about the murders that had been committed while she'd been in the house.

The home was still a separate home. But it was set up in a strange way. To get to the front door, I had to walk up a tall staircase, up to a balcony, like in an apartment complex or a hotel with outdoor balconies connecting the residences.

I knocked on the door, which was a grid of wood-framed, glass panes, showing in to the entrance corridor. The floors of the hallway were tile. There was something that seemed to be orange about the walls, though the walls seemed to be some kind of beige marble. The hallway ended in a wall and went off to the left and the right, i.e., in a "T" shape.

My sister first came from the right side. She saw me standing outside. She seemed to rush off, to get all her stuff together to meet me. She now came from the left side. She wore a giant, very lifelike, replica of a white horse's head on her body, so that the only part of her showing from under the horse's head was her legs, below the knees.

Somehow my sister explained to me (she was still walking to the door, and I was still outside) that she wore the horse's head as part of the satanic ritual. But she also wore it so my boss wouldn't think my sister had been able to see the murders my boss had committed. But I also knew that my sister wore the horse head over her body as a defense against the trauma she'd experienced from the murders.

Somehow, it was like my sister was my boss' daughter, and that my sister had been the main victim of some torturous satanic ritual which then culminated in the murder of someone, though probably not my sister.

Someone may have explained to me how my boss had finally been arrested. But as they told me this story, it was like I was watching the arrest. It was like my view was only 33cm or so away from my boss. Sometimes I may actually have seen from my boss' point of view.

My boss apparently lived in a smallish, kind of squalid, apartment. It was daytime. The front door of the apartment was open. The police were standing just inside, in the living room. They were going through the procedures of arresting my boss. But my boss suddenly made a break for it.

My boss may have been a young, tallish, slim, but muscular man wearing a sweater and jeans, with black hair and a light beard. My boss ran down a staircase. He ran past the apartments, into a desert field of dry grass and pale gravel. He then ran down into a shallow box canyon. He began spray painting a lot of words onto the walls of the box canyon in red spray paint.

I was curious about what my boss had written. It seemed like it was some kind of message, like for a doomsday cult. But I felt like there might be an element of philosophical truth, or at least a kind of dark coolness, to it. But I was also interested in how the police had caught up to my boss and captured him.

But the vision had ended here. Now I was in a weird building, like a convention center or shopping mall full of stuff that made it feel like a bunch of hotel lobbies or living rooms. I had been watching some TV. I'd probably been watching the scene of which I'd thought I'd been a part.

Someone standing near me may have explained to me that the police had caught my boss. But I knew they'd caught him. What I was interested in was how they'd caught him, and what he'd written on the walls of the box canyon.

I knew that my mother had gotten the newspaper. She'd actually just gone out to get the paper. She'd likely be coming back home with the paper by now. So I'd just go up to my mom's apartment (or room?) to get an account from my mom on what details had been in the paper.

I walked up to the mezzanine balcony of the strange building. I went down a side hallway and into a room like a hotel room, which was my mom's apartment. My mom had just arrived, and she was reclining on her bed with a selection of magazines and newspapers laid before her.

My mom may have been a kind of tall, kind of beautiful, glamorous woman, maybe just now beginning to gain weight. She may have worn a dark, silk slip and some kind of silk, floral-printed robe. She may have been wearing black mascara and a "Mrs. Robinson" hairstyle.

I sat on the bed with my mom and thumbed through some of the magazines and papers. I saw that some of the articles about my boss had pictures of Anders Breivik. (I didn't know Breivik's name in the dream.)

I asked my mom about it. She said, "When he tried to escape from the police, he tried to be like that Norway guy." (She might actually have said "Sweden guy.") "So he used a pickup truck as a getaway vehicle."