maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a store like a high-end gift shop with my family. My mom, a couple other family members, and I were all huddled in a circle, conspiring to rip-off the store somehow. We may possibly have settled on something regarding a check. I then walked away from my family.

I had a green slip of paper in my hand. This was a check. I walked toward the corner of the gift shop, where there was a huge statue, maybe of stone, of something like a stereotypical Native American chief, with a big, feathered headdress. The shop must have been in a mall: a few meters off to my right was big, wide doorway leading out to a huge hall.

My sister ran up behind me. She started arguing with me about how I hadn't included her on the plans to get money. I told her something about how she had been too late for the meeting the rest of the family had had.

My sister wasn't taking any excuses. She now had the green "check" in her hand. We stood in a kind of empty space in the shop. My sister started yelling at me that she knew I'd created this counterfeit check, and that my signature, forged to be someone else's, was the one on it. My sister would get me sent to jail.

A woman walked up from beside some glass counter-cases, like jewelry cases. She asked my sister if there was any problem. I may have told the woman there wasn't any problem, hoping that my sister would just stay quiet.

Dream #2

A bedroom in an apartment. The apartment had all black walls, almost like they had been burnt, or like they were walls for a theatre production. The lighting of the apartment was also very stage-like. The apartment seemed to be from the 1950s.

There were three people in the bedroom: a husband, a wife, and the husband's friend. They were all maybe in their late forties or early fifties. The men were dressed nicely. The woman was done up for bed. She wore a thick, pink robe with dark pink lapels, and she had her blonde hair done up in thick curlers.

The husband himself may now have been getting into bed as well, maybe just dressed in a white tank-top undershirt and a pair of boxers. He may have been kind of skinny, bald and big-headed, with a mustache.

But just as the husband seemed to be getting himself settled in the bed, the wife found a porn novel. The front cover illustration may have shown a pretty, blonde woman in pink underwear in some kind of night scene.

The wife yelled at the husband that he shouldn't be reading this kind of stuff. The wife ran out of the room with the book. She threw the book out of the house, out onto the stairwell landing.

The husband's friend cried, "No!" as the woman tossed out the book. The book just sat out on the landing. But I knew that the husband's friend was going to get the book.

The husband's friend may then have given a little speech, in narration, as if to the audience or in his own thoughts. He said, "A book like that is too valuable just to throw out. Besides, he likes those books. But if I just take it back and hide it, the wife won't care."

The view may now have been of the bedroom again. The husband was in bed, but the wife was still walking around the room in her robe, not getting into bed.

On the wall to the right of the bed was a closet, which may have had its door open. The closet had a high shelf, on which was a brown and tan striped, cylindrical hat-box.

The husband's friend continued, "I'll just hide the novel in the wife's hat-box. That's where I hide all the husband's pornographic materials.

"The wife knows it, of course. Every time she opens her hat box to get her hat, she sees all the husband's pornographic materials. But the wife is okay with that. Because this way she knows that the husband is at least trying to hide his pornographic materials."

I may have seen a second hat-box in the closet.

Dream #3

Possibly a dream where I was in a theatre, watching a movie. The theatre was enormous, with three aisles of seats, in a kind of flat "U" shape. I was sitting near or in the front row, toward the left end of the theatre.

I may then have been sitting far toward the right end of the theatre. I had a female friend with me. We may have been stuck behind a column. With the column and our veered angle of the screen, the view was really bad. The screen may have been big and at normal height at first. But now it was high up and kind of small.

I asked the woman if she was okay with our view. She probably wasn't, but she probably told me it was fine.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a huge building, either like a mansion or a museum. The building was dim, as if at night, with only a few lights on.

I had been in a back area, where there was a high, wooden wall, with a tall window up high on the wall. I then walked forward to some narrow area with a slanted, wall-like display stand or case.

My old friend R was standing in front of this display area. He stood really close to it. He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at me. I somehow knew he'd gotten a reputation for being violent, almost psychotic. He was so tired of dealing with this reputation that he didn't even want to have to look at anybody.

But he actually was as violent as people accused him of being. And he actually wanted to act violently toward me, because he felt I'd somehow insulted him.

I faced R. But now he was in a room even closer to the front of the building. He was in a little niche in a wall to my right. He may even have been wrapped in bandages, like a mummy.

I wanted to prove that there was no reason to be afraid of R and that I wasn't afraid of him. So I handed R a whole bunch of items that looked like huge items of silverware: like huge forks and knives. There were also some huge tongs that looked like forks. Everything was sharp, and I knew it could all be used as a weapon to kill me.

I was now going to leave the house. The idea was, I knew, that if R had weapons and I left the house, that R would kill me. But I was going to prove people wrong. Nevertheless, I was still afraid to leave through the front door.

I ran all the way to the back of the building. There was a window I'd easily be able to climb up to and crawl out of. But as I started crawling out the window, I felt like R might be right there, waiting to throw the weapons I'd given him at my chest.

So I climbed back down. To my right, as I faced the wall, there was a dim kitchen, just like a kitchen in any nice suburban house. Just above the sink was another window. I thought that since R thought I was going to come out the back window, I'd be safe going out the kitchen window instead.

But as I was climbing out the window, I could feel R's presence again. I knew that this time he probably would manage to catch me, throwing the sharp weapons I'd given him at my chest and piercing my heart.

Dream #2

I was looking at a magazine, maybe a porn magazine. The pages were nothing but photos, maybe six photos per page, in the same kind of style as a porn magazine.

The photos showed two girls in bed. They were about nine or ten years old. They were wearing pajama pants and pajama shirts. Apparently, under their pajama pants the girls were wearing diapers.

The girls got into a kind of sixty-nine position with each other. The girl on top of the other girl rubbed her face against the bottom girl until her pants had been worked off. She somehow managed to remove the girl's diaper in the same way.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a basement living room with some of my family members. The basement was kind of small, but it was brightly and warmly lit. My mom sat on the left side of the couch. One or more people may have been sitting next to her.

I had a small space to sit in near the right side of the couch. As soon as I sat down, my second oldest nephew and my brother tried to sit down next to me. They were playfully arguing over who could sit next to me. My nephew may have been bigger than my brother!

Eventually I decided that my brother (?) could sit on my lap, and that my nephew could sit next to me. It felt good and warm to have everybody all crowded around me.

We had to watch some TV program that would inform us on some mission we were all supposed to be going on. An old, kind of fat, rich man was going to give us the details. The details, I knew, would involve something called "time parachuting." The man would just appear on the TV at the appointed time and give us the details.

The TV may have been a TV at first. But now it was a low window, set into the wall under a thick, dark, wooden shelf. The view outside seemed, at first, to be of the deep blue water of an aquarium.

My second oldest nephew and I may have gone close up to the window. It was now like we were on a subway train at night. The train was running above ground. It had just gone past the edge of town, apparently. We were riding through an area full of rails, all criss-crossing with each other.

But now all the rails were under at least a meter of water. A deep blue light lit the water and the rails. In some places, it may have looked like the rails themselves glowed with deep blue. This brake-yard (?) seemed to extend for quite a way, all under water, with this eerie glow. My nephew and I seemed to be pretty amazed by it all.

Dream #2

I sat on a couch in a living room with my mom. It was daytime, and daylight came in through a window, which was probably behind the couch.

My mom lay on the couch, to my left. But she was taking up so much of the couch that her rear end was smashing up against me. I was reading something on my phone.

I was kind of annoyed by being smashed the way I was. But I decided not to move. I thought (a weird thought --) that my mom must be smashing up against me because she wanted to remember what it was like to give birth to me. I figured I should let her remember. I'd been so emotionally cold lately, maybe she'd forgotten what it was like to be my mom.

My mom was now sitting up. She told me I looked weak. She grabbed my left arm and put her first two fingers on the vein on the inside of my elbow, to feel my heartbeat.

Apparently she didn't like something about my heartbeat. She stood me up. We walked across the living room, into the kitchen. My mom stopped me right at the threshold of the kitchen. She said, "I'm going to grab the stethoscope and check your heartbeat, if you don't mind."

I said I didn't mind. I put my book (? -- instead of my phone?) down on top of the fridge. I could see the top of the fridge really easily. I sat the book down on top of a pink diaper that sat on the fridge.

My mom walked toward a doorway on the right wall of the kitchen, just past the fridge. This doorway led to a small hallway that led to a couple of bedrooms. My mom was getting a stethoscope from one of those rooms. In my mind's eye I saw my mom putting the stethoscope to my arm.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in the living room of a really nice apartment, sitting on the couch with a really pretty Indian woman. The couch and floor may have been white. There was an entertainment center just across the floor from the couch.

The woman was showing me something on the screen. The screen was black, but divided into sections by white lines. There may have been six sections. In each section were a few letters and numbers. The screen would occasionally pull down.

The woman was showing me this, but I was actually controlling it, using either a keyboard or a joystick. I realized this was some sort of data processing system that was connected to a company's database. People could work from home, from their TVs, by entering data for this database.

As the woman stood up and walked toward the dining room, off to our left, I told the woman, "I always thought this would be a good idea."

The dining room was gone. A window was in its place. And it was like I was in a house rather than an apartment. The woman was just outside the window. I stood up and walked to the window.

I continued, "In fact, I've always thought working from home would be the way a lot of people worked, eventually. I was thinking of writing a science fiction story about it, where everybody works from home, on their computers."

The woman stood out in an area full of trees. She may have kept moving farther and farther back -- without walking, until she had disappeared in the trees altogether. But I was still talking to her.

I continued, "Everything -- the world, gets greener again. The population rate goes down. But people are happier. So many things are controlled by robots. And a lot of people work from home."

Now I was looking out the window to a normal suburban front yard. Two of my old friends, M (a man) and P (a woman) walked up to the window, which was maybe a meter or so higher than their heads.

M told me he and P were going somewhere. When they were done they'd come back and pick me up to take me to the airport so I could go back home. I was a little panicked. I said that my flight was probably leaving pretty soon. I needed to get to the airport.

M told me not to worry. Besides, M told me, I had some task to take care of, possibly involving a car, and that I wouldn't be able to leave until I took care of that, anyway. M asked me for the car keys so he and P could leave. I gave them to him.

M and P were gone. I walked out of this house through a door opposite the window. I walked through another yard that looked like a front yard and up into the front door of another house. This was my mom's house.

My mom was just inside, sitting at a table in front of the front window. When she saw me she stood up and started walking through the living room. There was a couch set right in the center of the living room. My mom started telling me something. But I can't remember what it was.

Dream #2

I was in a bedroom. The room was dim and blue. I had been listening to some conference call and taking handwritten notes on notebook paper. I may have been at a desk. But now the call was over.

I heared a kind of squeaky-raspy voice from another room. I had been looking off to my left. But now I looked over to my right, to the door of the bedroom. A beige-orange light came from under the crack of the door.

The voice said a few things. Then the person got up, apparently from a room behind me, and left, walking away down the hallway that was just outside the door. I now realized I was sitting on the floor, using a bed as a desk.

I understood that I had left my job. This was the office for my job. For some reason I was back -- maybe just to help out on a short-term project, maybe just for one day.

The guy the squeaky voice had been the guy who'd replaced me. It was 5 PM, and the guy was leaving. This, I thought, was kind of lazy, since there was still a ton of work to do. I thought that maybe I'd impress my boss by staying for a long time tonight.

But, right while I was lost in this thought, my boss burst in the door. I must have looked like I was just doing nothing. My boss rushed up to my bed-desk and began flipping through my notebooks.

I knew I had just taken notes on some conference call. I wanted my boss to see the notes. But now he wasn't finding them. Instead he flipped to a page I'd made of sketches of the famous cartoon character Strongbad.

My boss pointed to one of the drawings and said, "I want to see less of this," as if he thought all I did all day was draw sketches of strongbad. He actually even flipped to another page that was also full of Strongbad sketches!

I was trying to figure out how I could explain this to my boss. I did a lot of work. But sometimes, while I was listening to calls or trying to think through a problem, I'd start sketching.

Dream #3

I was pulling a car I had (when I was in high school!) out of a long driveway for a house set up at the end of a long, gated yard. When I got to the end of the driveway, I had to close the gate. I pulled off to the side of the road and got out of the car. I was also thinking something about the difficulty of driving backward.

When I got out of the car, my sister was there. She told me, "Don't forget, while you're taking care of the car, to wash the back windows. That's really important, and C (one of my old friends) did it all the time."

I told my sister, "I was just planning on doing that once I got home." Apparently I was planning on taking my car back home after visiting my family -- although I was also planning on taking a plane home.

I was now in the living room of a house with my mom, grandpa, and probably some of the other members of my immediate family. My grandpa and mom were standing. My grandpa was getting ready to leave.

I was going back to my car as well. My grandpa was going to drive me. So we left the house together.

It was dark outside. My mom stood in the doorway. We were in a long block full of houses, possibly with some kind of median in the center of the wide road. My grandpa's car was parked halfway up on and off of this median.

My grandpa and I got in the car. My door was still open, and I was holding on to some kind of hard door-strap, as if I were going to pull the door shut.

My grandpa said, "I didn't invite you guys to my house because I didn't know what schemes your mom might have. She could sue me because on of the kids suffocated themselves on the floor or one of the kids suffocated themselves on the ceiling."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was sketching out notes on a piece of notebook paper for some blog entry I was getting ready to write. I had a few odd lines scribbled out, and some scratched out lines. I either wrote down or had already written down the letter "W," and put a circle around it.

Dream #2

I was out on some concrete walkway in front of a building like a college dorm. It was daytime. A girl who I probably looked up to and had a crush on was in front of me, doing some stretching exercises.

The girl had dyed-auburn hair and slightly tan, really smooth skin. She was fit, but not skinny, with full, smooth arms. She wore a pink and blue exercise shirt and grey, tight exercise pants.

The girl went into a low lunge, with her left leg stretched way back behind her and her right knee tucked under her chest. But then she did some weird kind of twisting motion with her torso so that her left (?) arm was stretched out forward and flat on the ground, and her head was twisted so that the right side of her face rested on her left arm.

As the girl was doing this, she was telling me how she was thinking of quitting the pilates lessons she was either giving or taking. She was giving me some reasons for this. It may have had to do with money. She was telling me all this as if I were kind of a little kid.

Dream #3

I was in an apartment. All the lights were off, except in the bathroom. The bathroom light shone into the otherwise dark living room, where I was sitting.

I must have walked into the bathroom. There was a woman in there who was somebody like a fast food worker. I was going to ask her for some kind of help. But an Asian guy butted in front of me and started asking for stuff.

I pushed past the Asian guy, trying to knock him over to let him know I was mad at him just butting in front of me. In the living room there was now a counter, like for a coffee shop. I knew the woman would eventually come back to the counter. So I just sat on the counter, waiting to be helped.

I was then sitting in something like an elementary school desk. There may have been a book and backpack on the desk. I appeared to be studying.

The Asian guy walked up to the desk. He took a look at the book I had on the desk. It was some kind of paperback of an Arthur C. Clarke novel. The cover art was of a dragon, with a red and a blue wizard on either side of the dragon, probably in a forest.

I told the Asian guy that the book was by Arthur C. Clarke, and that the guy could read the book if he wanted. The guy looked a little shocked at my kindness. I told him that he could read any of the books I had. My bookshelf was right in the living room.

But as I said this, the guy just grunted at me like I was an idiot and walked back into the bathroom.

Good morning, ,everybody.

Dream #1

A gigantic cruise ship like the Titanic was out on the sea during a huge storm. There were a lot of people in the main dining room. The dining room was big and bright, with low ceilings and small, round tables draped in white tablecloths. The dining room may have had doors, and possibly even windows, right out to the deck.

People had been warned to stay inside the inner parts of the ship during the storm. But one of the men actually opened one of the doors or windows out to the deck. He may actually have gone outside, on the left side of the ship.

The storm blew the man back through the door and out another door on the opposite side of the ship. The man could be seen clinging onto an old-style, wooden mast, his body being blown pretty much horiztonally by the storm, like a flag in the wind.

I was now back in the dining area. But now the place was almost totally empty. It was also very dim and full of heavy, wooden tables. I sat at a rectangular table for six or eight people. A beautiful woman sat across from me. I myself was a beautiful woman.

One man had just walked away from us. He may have been my boyfriend, or he may have been the woman's boyfriend. But there was also a man slumped down in his chair to the woman's left. He seemed to be the woman's boyfriend. He was so drunk that he'd passed out.

The woman was upset about the man having gotten this drunk again. I, possibly as the woman's friend, was trying to comfort the woman.

I encouraged the woman to have a drink. I said it might make her feel better and make her feel like she'd equalled things up between herself and her man. I told her the drink would be on me.

But the woman, hearing that I was buying her drinks, suddenly became greedy with drinks! I don't know where she was getting the drinks from, but she kept pounding them back, sometimes even two-fisting it.

The woman was drinking gin in something like a baseless wine glass. And each time she'd finish a drink, a little green scoreboard over her left shoulder would count the drink off.

Finally the woman stopped drinking. But it wasn't like she was drunk at all. Both our men were back. But my man was already in bed. The woman's man was still passed out drunk.

I figured both men wouldn't be much good for sex tonight, but I told the woman that she could probably find some way to make her man please her. I had an image in my head of either the woman or me sitting up, still in a dress, while one of the men, so drunk he couldn't even sit up, lay on his stomach and performed cunnilingus on either me or the woman.

But what I was really interested in was trying to prove to the women that her man was so drunk that he'd be no good at all for the night. Then we could find some way to get rid of the man for the evening. After that, I'd convince the woman to have lesbian sex with me.

But now we were carrying the man back to the bedroom, which was apparently down a short hallway just past the dining area. The woman had the man's head, and I had his feet. The man seemed really sick. I was afraid he was going to puke all over me sooner or later.

Dream #2

A man was telling me and a group of friends about how he and a woman (who sat beside him) had lived in a mansion for a while. Someone else may have lived there with them. The other person may have been really rich. The man and woman were well-off, in fact they looked like a glamorous couple from the 1920s, except alive today, but they weren't rich.

So while the rich person had one portion of the house, the couple had the maids' quarters, which themselves were huge. The man said the couple didn't have to do any maid work. They just liked the quarters because they were so big and they felt kind of old, like an old castle or monestary.

As the man spoke about the maids' quarters, they materialized around us. Everything seemed to be made of concrete, painted over, like a public restroom. In fact, there was some huge restroom just behind the man, not divided from our room by a wall, but by a concrete seat, in which the couple sat.

The man told us, "We even used the hands-all bathroom while we were there, which was huge."

Somebody, possibly I, asked what a hands-all bathroom was. The man said he didn't know, that he'd never asked to find out.

I said, "I think 'hands-all' is like when you say 'all hands,' like when people say, 'all hands on deck.' I think it was a huge bathroom that all the servants used at once when they were suddenly called to duty, so they could all get washed up and ready at a moment's notice."

A woman said, "Or, what I was thinking is that it was for the smaller bathroom. Because that one had a mini beauty salon in it." A small bathroom, with something like a barber's chair and a mirror with lightbulbs around it, appeared in a room two or three rooms down, behind the woman.

The woman said, "I think 'hands-all' meant something like 'the works,' like if you went into that bathroom, you'd get 'hands-on' treatment -- a full makeover. And all the maids would take turns giving each other makeovers."

I was pretty sure my idea was right and the woman's idea was wrong. (??!!) But I didn't say anything. Instead, my vision seemed to focus on the huge tub in the huge bathroom. It was like I was right there. The bathtub was full, almost to overflowing, with very warm, but not hot, water.

Dream #3

I was in outer space, speeding upward and away from the earth. I must have been in a small spaceship, but sometimes it felt like I was just out in space, in some space suit.

Another man was out there, even though I don't think I ever saw him. The man spoke about another man who had taken a dimensional transport to another universe. He had done this as part of a battle with a group of aliens trying to destroy the world.

The man told me that the aliens could actually use the shockwaves of dimensional transport to destroy the earth. But the use of shockwaves and dimensional transport in flight was also the method of fighting that the aliens normally used in their battles.

So, the man told me, the other man had gone into another dimension and was conducting these kind of shockwave battles with the aliens. I imagined orange, kind of traffic-cone-shaped spaceships fighting with each other.

The man said that the other man would be back soon, as soon as he'd accomplished his mission. But now this man seemed to be going somewhere as well. Perhaps I was going somewhere, too.

We, or I, sped upward through space. I encountered a dimensional shockwave, from where alien spaceships had been. As I blasted through it, the sky of stars became filled with many more stars, some of which were different colors -- gold, purple, red, pink. There was also beautiful, brilliant nebular dust everywhere.

I was amazed by the beauty of the sight. But, suddenly, the sun (?) was eclipsed. The darkness of the sun (if it was the sun) revealed an even deeper layer of beauty in this universe. I was astonished!

I was now in a hospital. But the part of the hospital I was in was more like the control room in some kind of military base. All the people in this control room seemed focused on taking care of some procedure for one little girl. The room was small and crowded, with four or five rows of computer-embedded tables, each row split into two slanting aisles.

One man was in charge of administering painkillers to the baby girl. But he said, "That girl's had enough stuff to mess with her system. I'm not putting anything else in her." A black man, somebody like a nurse or a janitor, sat to the man's right and heard him say this.

There were two or three men standing before a screen at the back of the room. The main man was something like a head surgeon. He may somehow have been controlling the procedure being done on the baby girl, who was in another room, through something like remote-controlled robots.

But suddenly the screen shot of the baby girl cut to a sign (in kind of cheesy, 1970s style, "high-tech" lettering) saying "INCONCLUSIVE." This sign stayed on for a few seconds.

The head doctor was panicked. Something had gone wrong in the operation. But he couldn't figure out what had happened!

The screen now switched to a sign saying "INCONSCIOUS," which I guess was supposed to mean "unconscious." It meant the girl had slipped into a coma and was probably dying. This sign was flashing on a lot of different screens, now, and it may have been accompanied by buzzing alarms.

The head doctor shouted, "Dammit! We're losing her! What went wrong? Does anybody know what's going on?"

One of the other people shouted, "Her pain levels are really high. Her body couldn't take it anymore. It slipped into a coma to shield itself from the pain."

The head doctor yelled, "Did somebody forego painkillers before the operation?"

The black man, who had been sitting next to the doctor who'd decided not to administer painkillers said, "Yes! The doctor said he wasn't going to give the girl anything! I saw him! I was right here when he said it.!"

The head doctor seemed relieved. Everybody did. I saw from somebody's point of view, as if I were now actually in this scene. I was looking at the screen of the doctor who hadn't administered painkillers.

The head doctor said, "Start giving the baby girl some painkillers. As soon as they start to take effect, the girl should slip out of her coma. We'll start the operation over after that."

I was already putting in the commands to administer painkillers.

Good morning, everybody.

I'm not quite sure whether the first dream isn't actually two dreams. The part in the bar may have been one dream, and the rest may have been another dream. I wrote it as one dream, since I don't remember waking up between scenes. But it may actually have been two dreams.

Dream #1

I was sitting with a few girls in a dark bar. The only light may have been from little, multi-colored lights like Christmas lights, except seeming a bit softer, and, at the same time, more neon-colored. My whole view seemed to be a bit fuzzy.

I was waiting for some girl. But apparently she was really late. I may have started to think that she wasn't going to show up. I pushed my chair backwards and away from the table, as if my chair had wheels on it.

I moved past a number of tables. The tables seemed to be half-booth tables, where one side of the seats is a booth, set against the wall, and the other side is moveable chairs. I stopped moving backwards when I got to a table full of office women, maybe in their late thirties.

The office women seemed to be flirting with me. I thought they were all attractive. So I thought I might flirt back. Maybe one of them would hook up with me.

But now I was moving my chair forward, back to the girls I had been sitting with. As soon as I got back to the table, a girl sat right in my lap.

The girl wasn't skinny, but she was pretty. She had pale, smooth skin and longish, brown hair, all done up, like she was going to the prom. She wore a satiny, pale-chocolate-brown mini-dress with silvery, swirly designs on it. The designs may have been glittery.

The girl, I somehow knew, had been upset because someone hadn't shown up. I thought that this person was supposed to go on a date with the girl. But the person may also have been the girl's father.

The girl and I were now snuggling against each other pretty passionately. I figured I must have been snuggling with the girl to make her feel less bad about having been ditched by the other guy. After a moment, the girl broke off from snuggling with me. My view was all foggy, like someone had been kissing a camera lens.

I figured the girl was going to come back. But I didn't know if, once she came back, I could really commit to being with her. After all, wasn't I waiting for some girl here?

But the other girls at the table were looking at me. It was pretty plain they thought that I was already thinking of this girl as my new girlfriend. One of the girls handed me some kind of present, like a congratulations gift for getting a new girlfriend.

The gift was like some clear, plastic tubing made to look like a rose. There was a main stem, two small, leaf-like stems branching off of that, and then a clear, plastic rose-blossom (which was more like a bud) at the top.

All through the tubing and in the rose-blossom/bud were little lights, like LEDs. The stem may have had blue or green LEDs. The blossom/bud either had blue or purple LEDs.

I thought, getting a gift like this, that I couldn't back out of being the girl's boyfriend now.

I was now sitting out on a bench with an older man and another person. The other person may have been a man, or it may have been my mom. If it was a man, it was probably like my mom's old boyfriend, who was now standing up as a kind of character reference for me with the man.

The man was the girl's father. Apparently I needed the girl's father's approval before my relationship got too heavy with the girl. The father was kind of tall, overweight, with greying hair in a kind of feathery, old-style cut. He wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans.

It was night, but we were sitting in the father's backyard, right near the house, under an incandescent porch light. There seemed to be a huge, tent-like structure right in front of us, possibly big enough to be taking up a good portion of the backyard.

The father and the other person were talking relaxedly about some stuff that seemed a bit over my head, like "adult talk."

I stood up and walked over to the tent. I went inside. The tent was lit by incandescent light. The inside had solid, plasticky, but thin walls. The top of the structure kind of pointed upward in a pyramid shape, like circus tents do in cartoons. The top was made of tent-like fabric. There was no floor -- just bare soil.

The father and the other person walked into the tent. Somehow, from the conversation, perhaps, I came to understand that this structure was the outer housing for a nuclear reactor. The reactor was now going to be built.

I was here, I now knew, to get a job from the father, who was in charge of building the reactor. I needed a job, since I was going to get into a pretty serious relationship with the father's daughter. After talking with the other person a little more, the father said that I could have a job helping to build the nuclear power plant.

It was now daytime. I was still in the structure, as if no time had passed. But now the structure was a lot taller and bigger: as big as a small warehouse. The ceiling had all kinds of metal piping in it, and it seemed to be separated by a couple of meters from the tops of the walls. There was a guy in a hard-hat, suspended by a wire, working on something between the ceiling and walls.

I somehow knew there was at least one other structure like this. But there may have been two other structures. One of the structures may have been a lot more developed than this one. It may already have had a reactor built inside of it. (I think I was visualizing a cooling tower *inside* this structure.)

The person who'd been talking with the father was now gone. The father may have been around for a second, but now he was gone, too. It was implied that I knew what I was supposed to be doing, so that I should get to work. But I didn't know any of my co-workers, and I was really shy.

Suddenly there was a big explosion. There were a couple other people in the structure with me. Apparently the explosion had come from one of the other structures. We needed to assess the situation. We ran outside.

The area was like a big, vacant dirt lot. But at the end of the lot, maybe 50 meters from the structure I'd been in, was a little shelter like a doorless shelter where farm vehicles could be parked.

I was hardly even outside when I noticed that everybody else was already over in the shelter across the way, putting on raditation suits. There were three or four men in a line, all young, Asian men. They all wore white masks over their mouth and nose.

The men were in different stages of putting on the suits. The suits were yellow, thick, and rubbery. The men had stood into them, apparently, as they lay crumpled on the ground. They'd then pull the yellow suits all the way up over their heads, then zip the suits up. The suits may have had red boots.

I may actually have flown to the shelter to get there faster. I don't think I stopped flying. Instead, still floating, I was looking for a free suit. I saw a couple suits lying crumpled up on the floor, waiting for people to stand into them. So I thought they were available. But looking closer, I noticed they had some men's clothes in them. So, apparently, they were already taken.

I "knew" that there were more suits in an underground storage area just across the lot from this shelter. So I jumped up maybe four or five meters in the air and flew over to the shelter.

The shelter was in an area at the edge of some hillside or canyon. The hillside looked out over a lot of green, rolling hills, like in some kind of juniper- or pinyon-strewn desert. The sky was pale grey. But the horizon was filled with low-hanging, dark grey clouds.

The underground shed was fenced off from everything else by a two-meter-tall wooden fence, which was kind of old and greying. The doors to the underground shed were just like the doors to an old cellar. Their wood was also old and grey, kind of messy.

I lifted up the doors once and looked down into the underground shed. It was really dark and messy. I thought I probably wouldn't be able to find anything down there, let alone a radiation suit. I was also afraid that if I went down there, something would jump up and attack me.

The doors must have fallen shut, because I had to open them again. Only now they were a lot bigger and heavier, though still made out of old, greying wood. They also seemed to be set into a large, heavy, concrete circle.

I needed to get both doors open in order to go inside, but I could only get one door open at a time. I had to fly to lift the doors -- they were either too tall or too heavy for me to lift otherwise. But as soon as I'd get one side open, the other side would fall shut. It somehow reminded me of how I'd get frustrated as a kid, not being able to fold the flaps of a cardboard box.

I may have stood on the ground for a moment, taking some time to figure out how to do this the right way. I looked out at the hillside and grey sky.

I suddenly saw, maybe only 250 meters away, a red and blue passenger plane, a big jumbo jet, flying up into the air rather clumsy. I then noticed that the plane's right wing was entirely gone. The plane seemed to be smoking. I tried to remember whether I'd heard any explosion.

The plane seemed to be trying to pull into the air. In fact, it was pointing almost straight up. But it wasn't going anywhere. It was just bobbing in the air, maybe 100 or 200 meters up in the air.

I kept waiting for some kind of explosion. I figured it the wing had blasted off without an explosion, then something deeper had happened that would work its way out in a huge explosion.

It seemed now like the plane was trying to land. The airport the plane had come from was nearby, across a couple sets of rolling hilltops from the fenced-off area that I was in. The plane was still pointed up in the air, but it seemed to be bobbing back over to the airport.

The plane made a final descent into the airport. But it was still pointing nose-up. I couldn't see it as it descended behind the red-brick walls of the airport (???).

But the plane now seemed to be almost as big as the airport. As it descended -- crashed -- tail-first on the tarmac, it exploded in a big fireball, which only got bigger as the rest of the plane was consumed. A huge fireball now burst up over the tops of the airport's building.

But the exploding airplane was causing other explosions at the airport. I figured these were other planes, exploding from the heat and flames from the first plane's explosion. Soon a huge wave of fire was tearing through the airport. The entire airport was on fire!

Somehow I saw a set of doors at the airport -- as if the airport were now only 50 meters or so away from me. The flames had passed an area, although there was still a lot of brown smoke. The doors around this area were like doors in some sort of theme park or shopping center themed like the Old West.

A husband and wife ran out from one of the doors. They felt, I knew, that now that the flames had passed, they could make a run from the airport. They probably felt that if they stayed at the airport any longer, they'd risk getting caught in a second wave of flames.

So they ran away from the airport. They saw me in the fenced-off area with the underground shed. I waved them in.

The couple was maybe in their early fifties. They looked like they were maybe upper-middle class. The woman may have been pale skinned and a bit overweight, with frizzy, blonde hair. The man was compact but strong, tan, with short, wiry, grey-white hair. He wore a black polo shirt and, possibly, khaki shorts.

The couple may have told me what they had just gone through and that they were trying now to get to safety. I understood that what they meant was that they wanted to get back to their house.

I didn't know where the couple's house was. But I knew that there was a main road farther along the hillside. There were also a really big shopping center and people who could conveniently get the couple a car to get wherever they wanted to get.

But to get the couple to this place, I'd have to fly them there. I thought I could fly both of them there. But I'd have to lift them into the air one at a time. This was more to make sure that each of them wouldn't be afraid of heights as I flew them over the hills.

I *think* I lifted the woman into the air first. But we barely got off the ground before the woman got terribly afraid. I landed again. The woman ran over to some corner of the fenced-off area that had a little outdoor structure like a tool-shelf and work-counter, all made of old wood. The woman wouldn't leave that area. She was hysterical with a fear of heights.

(If it *was* the woman. It may have been the man.)

I now tried to lift the man (? or woman?) into the air. But I found that I couldn't fly up into the air with the man. He was way too heavy. This was surprising to me, as usually my flying had the effect of cancelling out gravity, so that everything I flew with weighed nothing. But the man wasn't losing any weight. He was still heavy.

Dreams #2

I was apparently telling people about a precognitive vision I'd had. It had to do with some kind of nuclear reactor, which looked more like a big piece of old factory equipment, with cogs and gears and cranks and wheels.

I was probably telling two people about my vision. The people may both have been women. They may have been wearing white lab coats.

I told the people that this particular reactor was different than almost other reactors, because two crank-wheels, which, in other machines, were set outside the reactor, were, in this model, set inside the housing of the reactor.

In my mind's eye I could see a small, steel door that opened up to get inside this "reactor" (or huge piece of old-time factory equipment). The inside was mostly gears, all tightly-packed, lit with a kind of dim, incandescent light. There were two crank-wheels, one in front of the other.

I told the people that the problem wasn't actually with the crank-wheels, but with a pane of glass either between or off to the (left --my left (?)) side of the wheels.

This pane of glass had a problem with it. It was forming, inside of itself, red streaks. The red streaks actually looked like drops of blood.

Good morning, everybody

Dream #1

I was walking with my sister out onto a parking lot. It was a sunny and clear day, but there was a lot of shade from the canopies of trees overhead. The parking lot was huge and empty. But most of the lot seemed to be shaded by the huge, green trees, which were only on the border of the parking lot.

As we walked into the lot, my sister, who was to my left, and seemed much shorter to me than she is IWL, was telling me about my oldest nephew.

As my sister was talking, I noticed that there was a building, much like the Rose Planetarium structure on the side of the American Museum of Natural History in New York. The building was just a gigantic, glass cube. But I was worried because I didn't see the gigantic, silver sphere, the housing for the actual planetarium theatre, inside the glass cube.

Suddenly it seemed as if the walls of the multi-story glass cube were turning yellowy. It was like the glass was decaying, becoming brittle. It seemed as if the whole thing might crumble at any moment.

My sister told me about my oldest nephew. "He may act fine and seem well-behaved to everybody. But I'm worried about him. He has these obsessions. Sometimes he needs to count certain things. And he'll just get so carried away with the counting that he can't do anything else."

I thought to myself, I haven't treated my nephew kindly enough over the past few years. I've been pretty cold to him, and everybody else, almost all the times I've been home recently. I need to make sure, this time around (apparently I was on a visit), to be much more attentive to my whole family.

My mom had a car parked way out in the center of the parking lot, which was otherwise empty. My sister's children were all playing around the car.

From out of nowhere my oldest nephew came riding by on a bicycle. He could see that my sister and I were talking, so he didn't interrupt us. He just pulled a pop-a-wheelie, which he'd intended me to see. He held his front tire up in the air for a few good seconds as he rode. I figured this would be a great time to tell my nephew I thought he was doing a good job.

But my nephew pulled back too far on his bicycle. He fell to the ground. He seemed to have injured himself. My sister and I ran to my nephew. My mom may have been there as well. But now my nephew was up and walking around.

I was now wearing shorts. I noticed I had a big gash and scrape on the inner side of my left leg, just to the side of my kneecap. I may have had a similar gash on my right leg. The gash was deep and red, but it wasn't bleeding. The scrape was only white, as if I'd only scraped the top layer of skin.

I knew this was what my legs would look like if I'd been in the same bike accident as my nephew had just been in. I asked my nephew, who was up and walking around alright, "How the heck did I get your injuries after you rode the bike?"

I figured to myself that there may have been some kind of empathic connection between us. For some reason, I may have kept getting my nephew confused in my mind with my brother.

I was now standing before my nephew's bike, which was just stood up, while my nephew was running around playing, possibly with my other nephews. My legs may now have been fine.

My nephew's bike had a lot of chrome on it, as if it were now some kind of mix between a bicycle and a motorcycle. There were thick, chrome wheel-guards and a smallish, chrome mechanism like an engine. The engine seemed to be fastened right into the front end of the triangle of the bike's frame.

My nephew ran up to the bike and began looking at the reflections in the chrome. He said that he could see his own reflecion in the chrome, but he couldn't see mine.

I said that maybe he was standing in the wrong place. My nephew was looking mainly at the reflections on the engine's chrome. I suggested he look at the reflections on the wheel-guard's chrome. My nephew may have done this. But I still don't think he saw me.

Dream #2

There was a concert with some guy, singing some famous song that I can't remember. It was a really emotional kind of ballad. The guy was on a dark stage, apparently just a sound-stage for a TV studio. He was surrounded by either thin walls or tilting or triangular towers of TV screens. One light shone down on him, and a high-angled TV camera was taping him.

There was some really famous part in the song that apparently everybody knew because it was so melodic and emotional. Everybody also knew when the famous part came in, because the buildup to that part in the song was so pronounced.

But when the really famous part of the song came on, the camera view switched from being on the main singer to being on a kind of TV camera view of a TV screen. The image on the screen was a little grainy, not very stable, and monochrome, with a blue-green kind of tint. There may have been little time-code letters and numbers running across the top of the screen.

Robert Plant's head and shoulders were in the view of the screen. Plant looked very young, like he looked in the 1970s. He was wearing some shirt that exposed a lot of his chest.

Plant was supposed to be singing harmony on the really famous part of the song that the main singer was singing. But now the time for the harmony part had come in.

Plant almost missed his cue to start singing -- in fact, he started about half a beat late, and he fumbled even then. He was tilting his head and looking off to his left.

It became very apparent to me that Plant was reading the words of the song off a teleprompter. But this didn't help him much. He was hardly getting the rhythm of the song, and he'd sometimes slur or mumble the words, or say them at a much slower pace than the main singer.

I was really surprised. Robert Plant was supposed to be a pro, one of the best. But he wasn't even doing the karaoke version of this song -- a song apparently everybody in the world knew -- correctly!

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A view of some area almost like a tarmac, though with no visible airport. A building more like an apartment complex stood off in the distance and to the left. Some structure like the shelter for a train stop was in the foregroung.

On the concrete ground lay four or five people, living or dead, face down. They all seemed to be adult men. They weren't wearing any shirts, and their pants looked like pajama pants. The men were all really skinny and pale.

A military man, a white man in a green, official-looking uniform and a round, hard helmet, stood at the right end of the row of bodies. Two soldiers stood on the left end. The two soldiers may have been holding up another one of these emaciated men. The man probably wasn't old, but his face looked old.

The soldiers let the man go. The leading military man told the man that if he complied, he'd be let go, so that he shouldn't be afraid, and he should just lie down by the rest of the men.

As the man did this, the leading military man may have shot him in the stomach.

A narrator's voice came on saying that during the years of (World War Two?) this was the way of life for many male college students in America. They would be taken to these camps and put through all kinds of torture. They'd be promised freedom, but it would only lead to more torture.

There were now scene of military people driving around on this tarmac-like area in civilian 1970s-style cars. The military people would drive over camp inmates who had been laid down on the road. The inmate's emaciated bodies would generally split right open.

One scene showed how at least the top half of an inmate got caught in the back right wheel-well of one car, or actually got stuck to the wheel itself, so that it was just thudding along with the car.

The narrator's voice said that these camps had all been part of a CIA mind control experiment. Part of the experiment had been to see how much the prisoners could take. But the main part was to see how far they could brainwash the soldiers to do any cruel, or even absurd, thing.

Another scene showed soldiers in some green-walled area that looked partly like an airplane hangar or garage and partly like a 1950s-style diner. A leading military man stood off to the right. A row of prisoners lay on the ground. And two soldiers stood over the prisoners.

Again, the prisoners may have been dead, but I could't tell. The two soldiers were pacing back and forth, pointing vanilla ice cream cones at the prisoners' backs.

The soldiers were acting like they had convinced the prisoners that they were only going to threaten them with the ice cream cones as long as they played along. But they really were going to shoot them. Or the soldiers may possibly have thought they really had guns, while they only had ice cream cones.

Dream #2

I was out with somebody else in a grassy clearing in the wilderness. We were doing something like consulting somebody about getting the person's car fixed. It seemed like this was going to take a while, so I decided to go for a walk.

I walked down a small slope on a dirt path. The path was well maintained and smooth. The soil was a pleasant shade of brown. On either side of me was tall, deeply green grass with some glimmers of orange or tan grass. To my left the land sloped down a bit. To my right, it sloped up a bit. It was late afternoon, and the sky was silvery-blue, getting dim.

For some reason I looked behind me, as if I'd expected to see something. I did. A deer seemed to be peeking its head out from the tall grass. Either I'd startled it or it wanted to cross the path but was waiting until I was no longer looking at it. The deer's head was huge -- like the deer was twice as big as a normal deer.

Either this deer or another deer now walked out onto the path and slightly up the slope. This deer was normal sized. But her coat had traces of green and orange in it, as if to help her blend in with the grass. And she had a huge cone coming out of the back of her head. The cone looked like the rest of the deer's body, but it was as big as a giraffe's neck!

I turned around and continued walking along the path. The slope up to my right was pretty gentle, and I could just see over it. It appeared that there was a road just past the slope. On the other side of the road a group of animals stood just at the edge of a dense stand of trees.

These animals looked at first like deer to me. But they were a bit too big-bodied. I then assumed they must be elk. But their coats were largely white, with cloudings and splotches of red-brown fur.

The slope seemed much steeper now, so that it was much harder for me to see the "elk." It seemed like the elk wanted to cross the street, but that they were afraid to cross while I was around.

I called to the elk in a high, kind of motherly voice, hoping that would make them less afraid. But I then felt that if they felt threatened by my heightened activity, they'd stampede.

I felt like they might stampede anyway, so I was trying to get past this area quickly. But I didn't know how wide this herd was -- herds of elk could be huge, I thought. It was also getting harder for me to walk.

For a moment I thought I would get off the path altogether, go up the slope so I could see how many elk I was dealing with. But the path had become a trench, kind of difficult to get out of. I worried that the elk would stampede and trap me in the trench, trampling me to death.

I thought I had to get out of this trench right away. But now the trench had gotten even deeper, maybe 4 meters deep, with flat-vertical walls. There was no way I could get out. But I thought the narrowness of the trench might now save me: the elk might just jump over.

Dream #3

I was walking through some kind of gigantic warehouse. The warehouse had tons of rooms. The rooms were all huge, like aisles ina big box warehouse, like a Sam's Club. There were shelves, all filled with both boxes and clear, plastic containers. The boxes and containers were all about a meter long and half a meter wide and deep.

I knew that every resident in an apartment complex was being moved out. They were all probably being moved to another specific apartment complex. Each resident (i.e. every person in each household) had been given one cardboard box and one clear plastic container. Everything each individual wanted to take had to fit into his two containers.

For some reason I imagined a litte, Mexican girl and her brother running happily around their house, figuring out what stuff they wanted to take with them.

All the families were now packed up. The boxes were all in the storage area. And at some point all this stuff would be moved to the new apartment complex.

I walked around a bit, looking in through the sides of the clear, plastic containers. I didn't see anything of interest. The boxes and plastic containers had all been set really haphazardly on the shelves. Some of them weren't even set right side up.

Dream #4

A young, blonde boy with slightly tanned skin was in some place like a warehouse or factory. The boy had kind of warped himself here. He had discovered a time machine, which wasn't exactly a time machine, but something more like a dimensional warp machine.

The boy had warped himself into a dimension like earth, concurrent with a different time on earth, but with some different physical laws. But the boy was using the physical laws here to help change things for the better in his own dimension.

But the boy was slightly worried. It seemed like some of the stuff he was doing here to benefit his own dimension was actually hurting this dimension. But, then, he didn't seem to care. He took a kind of troublemaker attitude and revelled in messing things up.

The boy ran around the factory. There were rows of boxes, huge pipes, vats, and other mechanisms. There were also some kind of mechanical pits that the boy would occasionally jump into and out of.

The only effect I could see the boy having on this place was that whenever he acted with "too much energy," he left bright green and bright pink tracers or shadows or silhouettes of himself in the area. Sometimes these tracers were slimy. But these tracers had the effect of tearing through reality. This could destroy both this and the boy's dimensions.

There was then another scene, unrelated to the boy. I don't remember anything about it.

The scene then returned to the factory the boy had been in. The boy was no longer there. He may now have been a man. But the man had gone back to his own dimension. A woman remarked that the man could, however, accidentally be brought back to this dimension, which would be dangerous for him.

The woman, some kind of Xena-like Amazon Queen, now stood in a blue, temple-like room with a man who sort of looked like an evil wizard. The two stood before a wall that had sloping-up shapes in them, like the upward sloping of a huge organ. In the center of this was a round, dark doorway. This was a "time machine."

The woman and the man spoke about how it was good that the humans had decided no longer to use the time machine. As they spoke, the view of them became a view from a television screen.

My view was in a dark living room. It seemed to be backing and backing away from the screen, until it was finally in my body again. I was sitting on the floor, with my back against a couch. The couch may have had a plushy, pale beige fabric. But it may have been covered over with a white sheet.

I was now sitting up on the couch. My old friends R and L were laying together on the top edge of the couch, leaning against the wall against which the couch was set.

L (a woman) commented that she thought it was good that the humans and the people from the other dimension were learning how to cooperate using the time machine technology.

R (a man) said, "No way! If I were the people from the other dimension, I'd act like a Mock (or Lock), like in the book The Time Machine! I'd just act like a beast to that time machine, and bam! bam! break it up!"

As R said "bam! bam!" he slammed his arm down twice on my face. He slammed my nose really hard, leaving it hurt and stinging.

I was about to yell, "What the hell are you doing?" But I calmed down immediately. I knew if I yelled, R would just act like he didn't know why I was so mad.

I turned around to R, who was wrapped up to his face in a white sheet with L. I got right in his face and very calmly said, "I know you meant to do that. You meant to hit me in the face. You meant to be an asshole."

R very calmly looked at me. He said, "You're right. I did mean to do it to you. And you know what? From this day on, I'm just going to be a terrible person to you."

I said, "Oh. Okay." I knew I was living here with R and L. So I figured I'd have to get out of here as soon as possible, hopefully even by the coming day.

I started working through my thoughts, while still looking at R, trying to figure out how I could get rid of everything I didn't need, and how to move everything I needed as efficiently as possible.

I couldn't believe how young R looked, as young as he looked when I first met him, sixteen years ago!

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out on a stage, just a little bit to the right (my right) of the stage. Back and to my left, the playwright George Bernard Shaw lay in a hospital bed. He was really sick, but he was giving a lecture. I was here either to introduce him or kind of interview him. His voice was really faint and weak.

Now I was leaving the theatre through some backstage area and a backstage door. I was walking through some kind of brick-walled alley. It was daytime.

Suddenly I realized or heard that Shaw was about to die. He knew he was going to die. He had announced that his next lecture would be his last. But that lecture would be today. In fact, it was starting right now! And I had left the theatre!

I had to see Shaw's last lecture. He was my favorite playwright. And I had the feeling Shaw would die immediately or soon after he got off stage. So I had to be there.

I ran back in the door, through the backstage area, and through a small door that led directly onto the stage. The show had just started. A woman had introduced Shaw. Shaw now sat in a nice chair on a green rug. A nice table with a lamp may have stood near the chair. Shaw had just started giving a little speech.

I at first wanted to sit near Shaw on the stage. But since I came in late I didn't feel I deserved to. So I sat off to the right of the stage. In the shadows were some bleachers, which were pretty well filled with people. I sat on the floor on the bleachers, where I thought I would be in view of Shaw, so he'd at least know I'd attended.

The woman asked Shaw some question about religion. Shaw responded a little ramblingly. He then said, "And, yes, I've been in a coven. I've headed a coven."

A little, black boy in a black hooded sweatshirt with thin, widely-spaced, white stripes and sitting in a wooden chair a couple meters to the right of and behind the woman raised his hand.

Shaw pointed to the boy, as if to take his question. He said, "Yes, you. And what's your name, little boy?"

The boy stood up. His face couldn't be seen. He may have been turned around, or he may have had his hoodie on backwards, with the hood pulled up over his face. He said, "Some people call me Lazarus. But you can think of me as Nicodemus."

The boy may have started knocking himself on the top of his head with his right fist.

Dream #2

I was in some room like a school cafeteria. The floors and walls were all white, and there may have been a set of white folding chairs all arranged in a grid, like for a meeting.

But whatever had been going on here was finished, and everybody was leaving. Apparently we'd had a meeting regarding the production of some movie. It wasn't certain the movie was going to be made. But people were feeling a lot more confident that it would.

The leaders of the effort all stood up front, near some long folding tables. There were a few long, plastic coolers. The leaders were kind of clowning around with each other while they packed up their supplies for the day. The leaders all looked South Asian. One of the leaders looked like the Malaysian singer MonoLoQue.

The leaders may actually have been making up some wacky, funny song based on the song they thought would be the theme song for the movie. I tried to join in, but I don't think I was very funny. The leaders were patient with me. But I got the feeling they thought I was being too much of a groupie. So I decided to leave.

I walked down a stairwell in the center of the floor. But as I got halfway down I realized I'd forgotten something upstairs. I ran back up to get it. But I didn't really know what I was doing upstairs and I didn't want the leaders to see me again. So I went back down the stairwell.

About halfway down the stairwell, I realized I had to go back to my apartment before I went anywhere. But my apartment was right near the stairwell. In fact, just in front of the stairwell, right where I stood, was a window to my room. (Off to my left may have been some area like a department store.)

So I swung myself up and bashed through a wooden panel blocking the window to my bedroom. Right before I'd done this I'd seen a tallish, kind of overweight, white man in a red t-shirt and blue jeans walking along some balcony between flights of steps behind me, as if I were now in some kind of apartment building's stairwell.

I broke through my window and rolled onto my bed, then onto the floor. The window seemed to have been open. But I noticed that I'd broken the board, a white-painted board about 33cm high and 1 meter wide, in half.

As I landed on the floor, I heard a woman in the living room go get the door. Oh, I thought to myself, that woman must be my new roommate.

The woman opened the door to the man I'd seen in the stairwell. (I don't know how I knew this, since I didn't see it.) As soon as the woman let the man into the apartment, she yelled, "No! I'm not doing it! I told you I didn't want to be a part of it anymore and I didn't want to see you anymore!"

I thought I should go out into the living room and defend my new roommate. But I was afraid. So I just sat and listened.

The man had apparently been trying to get the woman to be in a movie for a production house he'd just started up. But already the production house was having trouble with censors. The man said, "And this is a movie that, just because you got a few people saying certain cuss words, people wanna make it rated X!"

But the woman had left the man just because he had kept putting her in porn movies. She was yelling at him that she could tell he was getting started going down the same old path, and that she didn't want to be a part of it again. She seemed either to be walking the man to the door or heading out with him.

I sat on my bed and looked at the broken board in my hands. It sounded quiet. Maybe the man was gone, I thought, and I could go introduce myself to the woman. But I was wondering what kind of first impression I'd make with her, suddenly having appeared in my bedroom, and having broken the board on my window. The woman might think I was crazy!

Dream #3

I was sitting in a car with a woman who looked exactly like my mom but was something more like an interviewer or psychiatrist. I sat on the passenger side, and the woman sat on the driver's side. It was daytime. We were parked at the far end of a long driveway in front of a house.

I told the woman, "About the time that my cousin and I were trying to figure out what to do for college --"

The woman interrupted me. "What do you mean? I thought that before, you'd said that your cousin didn't start college until a couple years after you did. How could he be going to college at the same time as you? It doesn't make sense!"

I said, "That's not what I mean. What I said just now was --"

Suddenly something happened, and I knew I had to leave the car and get going somewhere else. My car door had been open all this time. I stood up and walked off to my right. I walked along a stretch of dirt on the shoulder of a road.

As I approached a fence, an adult woman came walking toward, then past me with a bunch of little girls. It was like a school group. Most of the girls were five years old or younger. They were all wearing diapers: some only diapers, some diapers with dresses over them. I was sexually attracted to these little girls.

But there was one little girl, an Asian girl who seemed to be maybe seven or eight years old. She had jaw-length, black hair and was wearing a white dress with thin fabric. It appeared that this girl was also wearing a diaper, though I couldn't tell for sure. I was extremely attracted to this girl.

I passed the fence, and one more adult woman walked along past me, following one last little girl wearing only a diaper. But for some reason, I found myself so sexually attracted to the little Asian girl that I felt like I had to follow her, at least to find out if she really was wearing diapers.

I turned around and headed for the little girls, none of whom I could see now. I knew if I caught up with them and started trying to get close to the little Asian girl I'd certainly be singled out as a pervert. So I was trying to think up excuses for heading back and being near the girls.

I thought that the little girls must have been going to the car to see the woman. Now I was in the car with the woman. She started up the car as I started talking to her. We pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

I told the woman, "You see, my cousin and I were in the same year of school. And we were best friends. So when we got into our Junior year, we both started thinking together about what colleges we'd go to."

The woman had turned right around a corner and was now driving through an alley going past the backyards of houses.

I continued. "But my cousin ended up getting sidetracked. So he didn't go to school right away. He had a terrible childhood! I'd go over there all the time to see him."

The woman now turned right and pulled into the driveway in the backyard of some house like my great grandma's old house.

I continued, "My cousin would be grounded for, like, six months at a time! And he'd just have to sit in his bedroom in the basement for the whole time. Sometimes he'd even have to write thousands of sentences."

I had to leave again. I opened the car door. There were some little girls walking around in diapers in the driveway. I was kind of attracted to them.

As I stood up and turned right, to walk away past the back of the car, I saw that my sister was leaning against the car, almost right in the doorway! She said, "Hey," in a kind of guyish voice.

I hoped my sister hadn't seen me ogling the little girls. But I looked at my sister. She was skinny, in shape, and she wore a blue-sleeved, white t-shirt that really showed off her boobs. I suddenly realized my sister was really attractive!

Dream #4

I walked into a museum with my mom. The lobby was dim and narrow. The ticket counter was some kind of polished, black stone.

We walked up to the ticket person. I was a member at the museum, and the ticket person knew me. But he might not have seen me. My mom handed the man my membership card and said something like, "He's a member."

The man said, "Great," and was about to print a ticket for my mom.

But my mom said, "I'd like three people, and also two children, please."

The man seemed a bit taken aback by my mom asking for so many tickets. I was taken aback, too! I thought I was coming to the museum with just my mom. Who were all these other people coming with us?

I said something to the man. He finally noticed me. He said, "Oh! But you're a member *here*. Why are you trying to get in with this card? This is a MoMA card."

I saw the card in the man's hand and realized he was right. Hoping to avoid him getting suspicious of me -- like he might have thought I was trying to hide the fact that I'd let my membership expire -- I flipped quickly through my wallet, trying to find the right membership card.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a room like a preschool classroom, although the room was supposed to be an office. The room was dark, except for the glow of a TV, which I was sitting on the floor and watching, (though my view seems to have been from slightly outside my body). The room seemed pretty empty -- no desks or tables; just chairs and short bookcases lining the walls.

Someone came into the room and pulled one of the chairs out of the room. The person was all in shadow, but he seemed to me to have been a young, male office worker. The chair he pulled out was an office- style swivel-chair. All the chairs in the room may have been like that.

I knew the guy wasn't supposed to take the chairs. And I knew he knew it. He basically just wanted to steal. But I was too afraid to stand up to him and stop him.

Now I was in the room with "my co-workers." The lights were on in the room, and there were desks in the room. But there weren't enough chairs for all the desks. In fact, there were hardly any chairs at all.

The boss (I think) said, "Someone from another office has been stealing our chairs! How the hell are we all gonna sit down?"

I knew who stole at least one of our chairs. But I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to betray that I'd been too afraid to stand up to the guy.

So now I and another guy were going out looking for chairs. The boss had told us, I "knew," that we should go to all the rooms in this building. And room that looked like it had way more chairs than it needed had obviously been stealing chairs from us. So we were to "take the chairs back" out of that room and to our room.

The man and I wandered through the hallways, which were kind of narrow, short, and grey. We went into some smaller rooms, which were apparently multi-office rooms or single offices. Some of them looked like classrooms.

Then we ended up in a pretty big conference room. The room was dark, with our only light coming in through the hallway. The room was empty, with just a few school desks and chairs here and there, overturned, not in any real order. But it looked like there weren't more chairs than desks, so we couldn't take chairs from this room.

But being in the conference room made me think. If the man searching with me thought we should be looking in conference rooms for chairs, then we should probably be looking in the conference room closest to our office. Something about the way the guy had stolen the chair had made me think he wouldn't go far with it.

In my excitement at thinking I knew where we should go, I gasped a bit and lifted my left arm up, almost like I was raising my hand to ask a question in class. I then put my hand to my lips. I said, "We should go to the..."

But I had to strain to remember the name of the conference room. Finally I got it. I said, "We should go to the Goshen Room!"

The man said, "That's right! I was just about to say the same thing!"

We were now in the Goshen Room. There were chairs all over the place, as well as school desks. Everything was overturned and disordered. But it seemed pretty obvious that there were too many chairs in here.

The man spoke to me (although I seemed to be seeing from his viewpoint) as if we were looking at a grisly murder scene. He said, "Go. Get the others from the office. We need to gather the chairs quick. These people will be back soon."

The man himself now seemed to have been heading for the door, to get the other people from the office. I was deeper in the room, looking at the chairs. The swivel-chairs' seats had been completely unscrewed from their bases, kind of like a bolt screwing into a hole, or a bottle cap screwing onto a plastic bottle top.

I stood staring at a few swivel chair bases. I figured we'd all have to carry this stuff back to our office in awkward armfuls, then screw everything back together there. I wondered if we'd be able to get everything of ours back to the office, and if we'd be able to put it all back together.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in an eye doctor's office, probably with my mom. The office kind of looked like a house. We were in a front room, and I was right on the threshold to a back room.

The eye doctor, an older, kind of pretty woman wearing a white labcoat and eyeglasses, was telling me about contact lenses. I told the woman that I've always been afraid of contacts. My body is always so sensitive to contact with stuff that I've always thought that if I wore contacts, my eyes would get all infected.

The eye doctor told me these contacts were new. They were disposable. So sensitive skin was far less likely to be infected by them.

I looked down at a paper on the counter. The paper advertised the contact lenses. The paper actually reminded me of the Heimlich maneuver posters seen in restaurants. I wasn't very assured by it.

I was now riding down the street on a bike. I was heading back home. It was a really sunny, clear day, and I was riding on an open road, with open fields on either side of me. It was really easy for me to bike -- I was just coating along, but going really fast.

Eventually I came to more populated parts of town. I was riding alongside some cars. I stopped with the cars at an intersection stoplight. I thought I must almost be home by now. I was surprised. I was almost home. I had never taken this way home before. But it was really quick. I'd have to take it from now on.

At the intersection, a maroon-colored van with "my family" in it pulled up to my right. A dad, kind of fat, with shaggy, curly, dark hair and a bit of shadow of stubble was driving. Somehow I was now "inside" the van -- even though I was still outside, on my bike. But now that I was "inside" the van, the van would control where I went.

I was disappointed. I really didn't like this father and I really didn't want to be in the van with him. Besides, I'd been going my own way and doing well. Why did I suddenly need this father to control where I was going?

Dream #2

I was out walking along the street in something like a residential neighborhood. It was a clear, sunny day. I was walking on the right side of the street. To my right was probably an open field. The street, on my left, was pretty wide.

There were blocks of houses on the other side of the street. The block forked off a bit farther up, so that one of the streets wound off and drifted off to the left, while another of the streets went kind of straight and up a slope.

There were two people walking along the street parallel with me. There were another two people walking down the slope, coming in the opposite direction from me. I needed to cross the street.

I began to cross the street. But when I saw the two people walking parallel with me, I thought they looked a little weird. I was about to cross back over to the right side. But I just decided I'd cross all the way over to the left side, figuring I didn't want the two people to think I was afraid of them.

The two people were a man and a woman. The man was tall, pale white, slightly muscly, with a mustache and pale, blue eyes. He may have been wearing a pale, yellow hoodie. The woman was shorter than me, pale, with brownish hair. She wore a black, leather jacket, a white shirt, and blue jeans.

The guy, as I passed him, said, "Hey! Hey, you!" as if he needed my help with something. I looked over at him. But then he looked up ahead and saw the other two guys approaching. He told me, "Oh, nevermind."

I kept walking, and the two guys passed me. They were both probably black. One wore a brown hoodie and brown pants. The hoodie may have had some orange lettering on it.

The sloped street was now something like an aqueduct -- a little concrete channel like an empty, man-made river -- instead of a street. Some of its sides may have been grafitti'd. It was already walking up it.

I could hear the man and the woman hurrying up at me now. I thought I should turn around and go a different way, so I wouldn't be walking up the aqueduct with these two people following me. But I didn't.

Right as I got into the part of the aqueduct that sloped up and a bit to the left, the man pushed me down to the ground. He had me pressed with my back to the ground. I don't know if he was kneeling on me, but he wasn't bent down very much. He wasn't holding me down very hard, but I didn't struggle, becaused I couldn't tell if he had a weapon.

The woman darted her hand into my right pocket and pulled out my wallet. She stood back up. She began going through my wallet, saying, "I got your wallet from you faster than an illegal immigrant going through customs."

I didn't know why the woman would make her remark. I figured she was trying to insult me, as if I were somehow an illegal immigrant.

I really didn't want the woman to go through my wallet. I didn't have much money as it was, and if she managed to screw around with my cards, I wouldn't have anything.

The guy wasn't holding me down that hard at all. So I figured I'd struggle to break free. Then I'd head at the woman. If I had to fight the man after I broke free of him, that would be fine.

Dream #3

I was walking out onto a beach from some kind of residential neighborhood. A lot of people were out on the beach, all looking out at the ocean, as if some kind of special event were going on. But the beach wasn't really crowded, and everybody was pretty evenly spaced.

Near the back of the crowd was a woman on a bike. She half-stood and half-sat on her bike, with probably only her right foot touching the sand. She wore a red and white helmet and a blue one-piece shorts and blouse outfit, the leggings of which looked a little too short.

The woman was attractive, and I was looking at her bottom. But I noticed her bottom had a weird kind of puffed out shape to it instead of a panty line, like she was wearing a diaper. So I walked up to her and touched her bottom. She was wearing a diaper.

For some reason this really turned me on. So I whispered in the woman's ear, "I could tell you're wearing a diaper. I love girls who wear diapers. And I love wearing diapers, too. Take me home, and we can wear diapers together."

The girl got turned on by me, and we went back to her house. The girl had two or three female roommates. Time seemed to pass, at least a night, but maybe a few days.

The roommates were all talking to somebody, another girl, they'd brought to the house. They said, "Yeah, it was just really lucky for her. He just walked up to her and said he liked girls like her. And they've been together ever since."

The woman and I now had to go out somewhere. We were probably going to be gone for a couple days. We were getting ready to go. We were about to head out, when I told the girl, "Wait. Shouldn't we bring diapers?"

The woman was now lying on the bed. I threw a diaper onto her stomach. I may also have set a whole pack of Pampers diapers on some counter somewhere.

Good morning, everybody. Time seemed to be really weird in this dream. I tried to get it all down as well as I could.

Dream #1

I was out in a park on a sunny day, possibly with a small group of people. The park was a long, slightly sloped lawn, an asphalt path, and then another lawn which went up a ridge. The lawns were kind of yellowy, as if the grass hadn't gotten much rain.

At the top of the ridge was a row of trees. We had to pull out the trees. The trees were all small, and we had to get them out, all the way to the roots. We would then carry them down to a wheelbarrow on the path, where they would be carted away, maybe two or three at a time.

Suddenly, it seemed like the scene was going to start over again. My view was coming in toward the park, moving up toward the trees. There may have been another row of trees on the border of the park and, now, a row or two of trees lining the asphalt path.

Suddenly, it was like the scene started over again, and I was coming back into the park, like a disembodied viewer. Then the scene started all over again, but it was like I was watching the view on a little, boxy TV that stood on the floor in some dark room. This experience may have started all over again.

Now I was back in the park. I was on the asphalt path, which was lined, at least on one side, with trees, making the path shady. My brother was with my, just up the hill from the path. He wanted me to take a picture of him. I tried to take a picture of him, but my view was all blocked by the leafy branch of a tree, like a poplar or a callery pear.

I tried again to get a good shot of my brother. But now my view was of the hillside -- with me on it. I also saw my mother and her best friend, and possibly my brother. We were all standing kind of far apart from each other. I was walking down the hill. I was in shade, but a greenish light hit the underside of my left cheek, as if somehow reflecting the light of the green leafs in the sun. I managed to get a photo of this, as if I were also outside the scene.

I was now outside the park again. But this time I wasn't coming in. I stood on the outside, hiding behind a border of trees. I had, apparently, been sick for a long time, and I was just now coming back. I was afraid of the boss of whatever project this was that I was working on. But someone, maybe in my head, told me not to worry, just to approach the boss and be honest.

I was now going with my brother and a thin, old, kind of intelligent-looking man into some place which was supposed to be my office. The place looked like a storage shed, like in some dirt-lot complex of sheds that might be seen on the outskirts of a city.

We had to walk up steps to get into this trailer-like office. But there was no front wall. We just walked right in. Everything seemed to be made of wood: the floors, desks, walls, everything -- and the same kind of wood, like pale wood from an old backyard deck.

I had perhaps lost my job, possibly because the company I worked for had gone under. I was here with my brother and the old man to get my stuff. The old man seemed to know a lot more about this whole process than I did.

We went up to the right wall, where, as I was grabbing something, I may have passed out. I was then walking back up the steps and into the office. It was like I had been sick for a long time, and this was the first time I'd come back to the office since I'd gotten sick.

The old man and my brother were there to meet me. My older brother was looking around the office. The old man stood by the wall. I walked up to the old man. We were supposed to be doing something regarding cleaning up the office after my sickness.

I remembered an old man giving me some kind of little wooden box, which was like a matchbox. The old man had been sick, maybe even dying. I had been caring for him somehow, almost as if I were a doctor. I had been standing by the wall, and the old man had been laying on the floor. The last thing I remembered before getting sick was holding the box. Then I passed out.

The old man in the present time knew my memory. He told me we had to find that box. We found it instantly. It was a little wooden box about four centimeters in width and length and maybe 7 millimeters tall. It had a little interior which pushed in and out like a drawer, or like in a matchbox. But it also seemed not to do that, but to latch open and closed, like some kind of folder or briefcase.

The old man took the box from me. He told me we had to burn it. I had gotten sick and passed out, the old man said. But other people had died. There had been a plague, all through this office and in other places.

This box, the man told me, was the source of the infection. We needed to burn it. And we were going to burn this whole office down, too.

The old man and I, and possibly my brother, may have continued talking as we walked toward the other end of the office. We may have been planning to leave the office.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a house with a few other people. I may have been walking through a dim hallway. There were doorways open to rooms, some of which may have had turquoise walls. The rooms were all slightly dim, lit by greyish natural light coming in through the windows.

I saw two people, each of whom had something wrong with them. The second person actually had his left eyebrow shaved off. But his skin had been shaved off as well, and there was just a big, bloody wound where the guy's eyebrow had been.

The guy either told me or looked at me in a way that implied that this wound over his eye meant that I was in physical danger. I would die, possibly through my throat being cut, either by myself or by someone else.

I seemed resigned to my fate. I walked into and then out of a bedroom. I had a Bic razor in my hand. I was shaving myself. But I seemed to nick myself just under my left ear. Something about the razor was bad. So I threw it on the ground and got a second razor.

The second razor was cracked halfway along its head. It looked pretty dangerous to use. But I used it anwyay. I seemed to be make the wound on my neck even worse. I was pretty sure now that I was going to bleed to death.

I walked into the kitchen and stood before the sink. Suddenly a stream of blood was flowing down my throat. It seemed to be getting worse and worse. I felt like soon I wouldn't be able to breathe.

I now got panicked. I realized I was finally going to die, and in a way that was kind of gross-feeling and uncomfortable. I thought my mind would probably fade out before things got really bad. But I didn't want to have to deal with the chance.

In my panic I called out, "Mom! Mom!"

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was standing in some place like an art museum. I stood at the edge of two rooms, like I was in a third room or a hallway. The two rooms were separated from each other by a small divider. Both of the rooms were pretty wide and airy. But the walls seem to have been spattered with paint, mostly red, with highlights of yellow.

In the room on my right, hanging right next to the dividing wall, was a long, hanging-scroll type of artwork. I may have thought of it as a Japanese painting. But may have been more like an embroidery, with a lot of gold thread. It showed Buddha on the top of a mountain, meditating.

A little, Asian boy ran up to the artwork and began pushing at it. He was pushing at it so hard that the fabric was stretching, becoming gauze-like, semi-transparent. I was panicked that the boy was going to tear the artwork. But I didn't want to say anything to him.

I now noticed that the artwork hung by something like a paper towel roll, through which ran a little rod like a metal clothes hanger. As the boy was pushing, the paper towel roll kept coming more and more off the rod. I knew the artwork would crumple to the ground.

I still felt shy about talking to the boy. But I went and found an older Asian man, who I figured must have been the boy's father. The man was skinny, with coppery skin, a receding hairline, and a slim, square cut of dark, black hair.

The man seemed to have a little trouble understanding English. But once he understood what I was saying, he went after the boy. By this time the artwork had probably been pushed to the ground. There seemed to be smoke, more like the sweetish-smelling stage smoke, all over the place. I seemed to be standing behind waist-high stacks of boxes.

The man and I now stood in another room, which was like the frame of a burnt-out house. There was smoke or steam everywhere around us. But we may basically have been outside, on a kind of yellowy-pale day.

The woman was upset, possibly because the artwork had been ruined. She was telling me and the man that she would be fine.

I now saw from the woman's viewpoint. I told the man (and somebody else?) that I was going to go home and shoot myself in the heart.

Dream #2

I was in a living room with my old friend R. I sat on the floor. R sat either on the floor or on the couch. The room was kind of dim, and there was stuff, including blankets, cluttered all around us.

I had a huge cookie before me. It was maybe 75cm in diameter. It was white, and it may have had something in it, like walnuts or pecans.

R encouraged me to eat the cookie. He seemed to think I was being a bit too shy about it. So I took a piece off the edge of the cookie and ate it.

R now revealed that he had a huge, brown cookie with stuff in it like chocolate chips, but not quite. R had to unwrap his cookie from a clear cellophane wrapper. He began eating his cookie and bragging about how good it was. Something about this was supposed to make me feel bad, like he'd "tricked" me into eating my own cookie while he got to eat his cookie, which was better than mine.

I decided I'd test out R's cookie, so I grabbed a chunk of it and ate it. R looked at me like he wanted to kill me.

Dream #3

It was night. I was in the back of the car with a guy. I sat on the left side. The guy sat on the right.

The guy was kind of tall, heavy, with a rounding jaw and squarish head. He had a short, square haircut with red-brown hair. He wore a black leather jacket. When he spoke, the guy had an accent that sounded Russian to me.

The guy talked about the Federico Fellini movie La Strada. He mentioned a group of people who were in the movie, but more in a sense like the movie was a real-life environment, of which they were a part. They had come into this place as spies. They may have been from the FBI.

The guy said these FBI spies had had such a great time in La Strada. "If they were having such a good time there, why did they go back to America? Why didn't they stay?"

Something about what the guy said didn't make sense to me. It may have been that I'd thought that of course the guys would want to go home: they'd only been here to spy.

We drove past some building like an auto repair garage. The garage door was all clear plexiglass, and the lights were on in the garage. But a couple of guys were pasting a humongous map of the United States up against the garage door, to block the view inside.