maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

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

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

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

Dream #2

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

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

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

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

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

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dream #2

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

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

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

Dream #3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dream #4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

Three women appeared in succession. They all looked very similar. They were very pretty, white, with curly, blonde hair and pale eyes. They were probably wearing a lot of makeup, especially rouge.

The women each wore a dress of the same cut -- kind of 1970s style, squarish, with a loose blouse and skirt, made the accentuate the women's thinness. The blouse layered a tiny bit over the waist. The front of the blouse may have had tiny buttons going down the center.

The first woman wore either a blue dress or a red dress; the second woman, either a red dress or a blue dress; and the third, a black dress. Each woman wore a matching hat, like a beret, which sat on the right side of her head.

Dream #2

I may have been reading something. I may also have been hearing what I was reading. Reasons were going to be listed for the failure of a certain project.

Reason number one was being given. I saw the "1)" and the text of the reason being written out, as if on a page, but as if the page were an image superimposed over another image on a TV. Reason number one was that the people in the project were working without any sense of ethical or historical reference.

The "2)" of reason number two was written out. The other numbers may also have been writtenout. But the reasons were all left blank.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was sitting in an office with my boss. I sat in front of the desk and my boss sat behind it. The room seemed kind of small. The light was really grey. The desk was cluttered with all kinds of piles of paper. My view may have been really low, too, as if I were very short or in a low down chair.

I was complaining about my boss, as if I were talking about him to somebody else -- even though I was talking to him. I told him, "My boss never tells me anything. I never know what he's doing."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some place like a workshop. There were one or two groups of people in the workshop. I may have belonged to one of the groups. But one of the groups had finished whatever they'd had to do.

This group left the room. They walked through a long, ramped hallway, like in a hospital. They were now in a dark room at the end of the hallway. The room was like a bar, although it didn't seem to have anything in it. The people were all singing karaoke.

I sat down in the workshop-room at some big working table. I was at the back end of the table. I really wanted to do some karaoke. I was getting restless.

I had a pile of money in front of me. I realized that some people had left their money here. So I should give it back.

President Obama was sitting on the right side of the table, near the front end. I gave the pile of money to Obama. I realized that the money was money that Congress had left on the table. They'd probably need it back. And President Obama would probably be able to give it to them.

I walked away from President Obama. But, for some reason, I still had two $10 bills in my hand. So I turned back to Obama and dropped the $10 bills on the table. They lined up nicely, the bottom edge of one matching wih the top edge of the other. They also looked really nice and new.

I knew that the $20 was some kind of "extra tax" that came with the money for Congress. The main pile of money was the pile that Congress got as a matter of course. The "extra tax" was tax that Congress received on this money.

But President Obama told me to keep the extra $20. He said something like Congress hadn't really earned the stack of money in the first place, and they really wouldn't miss the tax money if it was missing.

President Obama then asked me, "Well, why are you sticking around here? You can go, if you'd like. Don't you wanna go do karaoke with everybody else?"

I said no. I knew the Fed was going to talk about something pretty soon. I felt like it would probably be a smart idea if I hung around here until the Fed got through talking about whatever they were going to talk about. I had partly said this to butter-up Obama and make him think I was smart. But I was also genuinely interested in what the Fed had to say.

Dream #2

I was in a restaurant/bar. The restaurant had a weird shape, kind of an upside-down "L" shape, with the tall part of the "L" being really long and kind of narrow. The lighting for the whole place was a kind of neon-blue. But there were windows to the space outside of the bar, which looked like the inside of a mall and was lit normally.

I had gotten a table to sit at. But I had been asked to stand up. I'd had to walk all the way to the end of the area I was in, i.e. to the "base" of the "L" shape.

Now I was back at my seat. There was some other guy with me, an Asian man in maybe his late twenties, dressed in a business suit. We seemed to be co-workers or friends. We were about to sit down when another man asked if he could sit with us. He was also Asian and young. He was dressed in an all-black business suit.

We didn't know the man, but we let him sit with us. The two men sat beside each other. They started talking with each other, as if they were familiar with each other. I understood that they had never met each other before, but that they "knew the game" well enough to talk with each other as if they were familiar with each other.

I sat on the opposite side of the table, kind of awkwardly positioned in my seat against an empty seat, and messing around with stuff at the table, possibly a glass of water and some condiments or little appetizers or something.

The men tried to include me in the conversation. They asked me something. I responded by giving some speech about the Fed, which I don't remember, other than the fact that it was about them not needing something and having some kind of disagreement with Congress. The Fed might have said that Congress didn't need something.

Dream #3

I was in a big, nice living room in some wonderful apartment on a high-up floor in a big building. An old, white man with white hair sat on a couch. I may have sat down and stood up alternately.

I had been interested in the old man's daughter. I wanted to marry the daughter. But the old man was sure that I only wanted to marry the daughter because I wanted to get at the old man's money. This wasn't true.

There were elements of the dream before this point that proved, I reflected, that I really liked the girl. But I can't remember those parts of the dream.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was with a friend, near something like the security desk of some big building. My friend distracted the security guard, who may have been a tall, black man wearing a blue suit and hat. My friend distracted the guard by pretending that he was either sick or injured.

While the guard was distracted I snuck along a wall. The wall was made of green glass, and it sloped slightly as it went up (pretty high) to the ceiling of the lobby. The wall at one point went behind another wall. The two walls formed a corridor which was a kind of secret passage to a hidden area.

I snuck into this hidden area. The area was just a small room, like some kind of plain, old science laboratory. This room may have led to another room.

At some point two people confronted me. I wasn't supposed to be here. One person was a man. The other was a woman. The man had long, scaggly, black hair, though he was balding on top. He also had a black beard. I can't remember how long it was. He wore eyeglasses and a white lab coat. I can't remember what the woman looked like.

I fought the two people and either killed them or left them unconscious. I may then have gone to the next room.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a drug store, like a Walgreens. But it was huge, like a Super Wal-Mart. I was probably with someone else, possibly my sister. We wandered around the outer aisles of the store, going counter-clockwise. We went past the pharmacy counter, which was at the back end of the store.

Just past the pharmacy section, my sister turned left down an aisle. I waited for her at the end of the aisle, possibly sitting on the floor and playing with some of the products from the store. Somehow or other it became apparent that my sister had got some shampoo. It may have been in a pink bottle. She may have gotten some bottles of some other brands of shampoo.

My sister and I were now with a group of other people. The shampoo was brought up in conversation. But I realized that we hadn't brought the shampoo back with us. We now had to run to go get it. I may have been in the lead. Along with my sister there may have been a couple other people from the group.

We ran through an area that looked like a big Warehouse store, like a Sam's Club, with huge shelves in an enormous, concrete building. But it also felt a bit like a Toys R Us. We ran to one of the really big aisles. I ran left down the aisle.

There was a whole display of shampoos. Some of the shampoo bottles were scattered all over the floor. I may have picked up another pink bottle of shampoo. It was probably Johnson and Johnson's baby shampoo.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

There were a number of views of some place, possibly "Virginia." The views were like pans across landscapes. Some of the views may have been still. Others were in motion. The views were possibly supposed to show some kind of unique situation regarding "Virginia." I was frustrated because I never saw any evidence of this unique situation.

There may have been one pan across a residential neighborhood. All the houses were tightly packed together on the blocks, and the area was all set on a series of rolling hills. The colors in this photo may have been almost washed out, close to sepia tone.

The rest of the views all took place in some area that seemed like a city park, even though I also got the impression that it was supposed to be a beach. There was a huge lawn, pretty much flat, dotted pretty closely with thin-trunked, tall trees. At the edge of this park there may actually have been a beach.

One view in this park was of masses of people, packed all close together, lying out on their stomachs, as if they were all out on the beach, getting suntans.

Another view was of masses of birds, packed together (like the last shot in Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds). The view, I understood, was supposed to be of all kinds of exotic birds. But there were very few exotic birds. Right out, I only recognized one parrot. Most of the birds were ducks, seagulls, and pigeons, some of which were deformed or ugly.

It may have been at this point that I became frustrated with this "program." I was supposed to be seeing something unusual in these images -- specifically something unusual that had happened to alter the area. But these were all "normal" images.

The view changed to a view of a crowd of people, still pretty dense, but not packed all together, out on the beach. Among the crowds I saw the head of a big muppet, red, like Animal, walking along. The muppet must have been two meters tall. But it looked like Animal. I then saw a big, blue muppet. Then it seemed like there were a number of muppets in the crowd.

Now, off to the right, in a space of the park empty of people, there came a muppet funeral procession. The procession was very long. At the head of the procession there was something like a float.

The float was like a flat-bed wagon. On top were images of Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy. The images were laying down. They were probably around two meters long, as well. Kermit was wearing a groom's tuxedo, and Miss Piggy was wearing a bride's gown. But both Kermit and Piggy were dead. This was their funeral procession.

Dream #2

I was in a car with my family. I may have been preparing to leave after a visit to my home town. On the way to wherever I was going to be dropped off, we passed a few different McDonald's restaurants. As we passed the restaurants, I had to quickly make an assessment of the roofs.

My brother complained, asking me why we had to do this. He thought it had something to do with me criticizing him or keeping an eye on him, to stop him from doing bad things, as if I thought he was doing bad things.

I tried to explain to my brother that my job was to inspect roofs. McDonald's just had a lot of new roofs put onto all their buildings. So I had to inspect them. And my mom had agreed that we could drive past all the McDonald's on my way to being dropped off.

We passed another McDonald's. I don't know how I saw the roof. But one-third of the roof seemed to be missing. I remarked to myself about something regarding a special compartment being put into the roof.

We passed another McDonald's by going along a road or a stretch of asphalt that ran along the outside perimeter of the back end of the lot around the restaurant. The asphalt of the road was continuous with the asphalt of the lot, connected by a steep, asphalt ramp. The road put our view just over the roof.

We then drove along some road and up a steep hill in something like a residential neighborhood, although something about it all felt a bit artificial. My mom began discussing some new movie that was out. Its main characters were a few old people.

We all started talking about "old people movies," and whether they were good or bad. My mom was angry at me for some reason, and she'd sensed that I liked movies with old people in them. So she said, "Old people movies are made for old people. And if you aren't old, they aren't any good. They're just boring."

We reached the top of the sharp hill up which we'd been driving, and we'd woven our way into some kind of stone maze. My mom now drove up and around a curving road, up to the foot of a huge, stone staircase with a stone gate. Some distance up the stone staircase I saw some bright, yellow image. It may have been a person wearing a bright, yellow robe.

My mom now mellowed down a bit. She said, "Well, old people movies aren't all that bad. There are a couple that I like. And if you go to any old people movie with (my grandma) J, they'll always be interesting. Because she always has something interesting to say about them."

I now had to get out of the car and go up the stairs. I may have opened the back, passenger-side car door. I may have said some kind words to my family, maybe even hugging and kissing one or more of them.

Dream #3

I was leaving a building, probably after some kind of event or some kind of task I'd had to take care of. The building was kind of like a multi-floor school building. But it also felt very classy.

I was on a high floor. I was walking down a staircase to get to the exit. The staircase was wide. It doubled-back at each half-floor and opened out at each floor.

At some point I realized there was a guy following me. He was maybe half a floor up from me, but he kept that distance. Eventually I slowed down my walking. I figured that I would slow down until he caught up with me.

But as I was making this decision, I was already approaching the ground floor. Instead of hearing the guy, I now heard JF, one of my old co-workers. She may have been talking to JS, another one of my old co-workers.

I was now on the ground floor, passing through a big area and walking toward the front door. JF and JS now caught up to me. I could tell by the tone in their voice that they wanted me to include myself in their conversation. So I turned around to get a better view of JF and focus on what she was talking about.

At this point I was past the first door out of the building. There was a small foyer and then another set of doors. At the final set of doors I turned around. JF was just coming through the first doors, still talking with JS.

I may have walked all the way out of the building. But then I may have turned around right as JF was coming through the second doors. But now it was like I was behind her. I don't know where JS was -- perhaps she was outside.

JF started talking about the TV show Dallas. She asked about some key characters. I somehow mentioned Victoria Principal and Peter Duffy. I knew this satisfied one question JF had and made me look like I knew about the TV show.

I was actually back in the building, walking back toward the staircase. I realized I'd said the name "Peter Duffy." I called back to JF that I'd meant to say "Patrick Duffy." Apparently JF was writing all this stuff down on a clipboard. I also mentioned the name "Ron Hagerty."

Drream #4

I was in a library, sitting at a table and reading. There were no lights on in the library. The only light coming into the place was from the windows all along the walls. But the light was very dim. It felt like it was early morning. My eyes also felt scratchy -- kind of like they feel when I "wake" into a lucid dream, although I wasn't lucid.

I was apparently on the phone with my mother. I was explaining something very important about my life. I was talking rather loud. And although I was holding onto the phone, I don't think I ever actually held it to my ear.

I eventually put the phone down -- either under the table and on my lap or else under or beside a book on the table top. I didn't stop talking. Instead, the "scene" with the conversation faded into the exact same "scene," except that I was no longer talking.

There was a woman, maybe in her twenties or thirties, seated in front of me. A man, maybe around the same age, sat to my right. The woman and the man both asked me if, next time I came to the library, I could please refrain from talking to myself so loudly. I think the woman had asked first, and that the man asked the same thing again.

I was surprised. I asked, "I was talking to myself?" The woman said yes. I couldn't quite believe it. I thought I'd been on the phone with my mother! I wondered if I was going crazy. Suddenly I couldn't remember very much about the conversation at all. I wondered what I'd actually been doing and saying!

The man repeated that I'd been just sitting in the chair, looking forward, and having a conversation with myself. He said it was really annoying and asked me if I could try never to do it again.

I was now "downstairs." The downstairs area was actually like some kind of indoor version of a small amusement park like Coney Island. All the booths around me had some kind of pale-turquoise or sea-blue color-schemes. Everything was very clean. Nothing was operating. It was all quiet.

I stood over some table, leafing through a thick file in a three-ring binder. A co-worker from an old job of mine, JM, came up to me. He looked very young, even thinner than usual, and kind of pale, with facial features a bit smaller and tighter than IWL. He wore a blue dress shirt and, possibly, grey dress slacks.

JM asked me how I was doing and what I thought of my new job. I didn't tell him that I'd quit my job after having a fight with my boss. I just told him that things were okay, although they could probably be a lot better, and that I hoped I could eventually find a place where things were good.

I seemed to be walking away from JM now, and deeper into this subterranean amusement park. But for some reason I didn't feel like what I'd told JM was enough. If he ever found out that I'd quit my job, he'd think the reasons I gave weren't sufficient, and that I'd been weak to quit.

So I ran back to JM and told him, "Look, I really hate my boss. I didn't want to tell you this. But he's a complete jerk, and he does all kinds of stupid things. I really don't think I can take it for too much longer. I seriously hate him."

JM looked a bit surprised by what I said. He walked away. He was going off to talk with some other people. He wasn't necessarily in the amusement park anymore, although I still saw him there.

I was nervous about JM talking with people. But I was also kind of happy about it. I jumped up in the air, as if to get away from the situation of having to worry about what JM would say or think about me.

I was floating a meter or so in the air, and descending slowly. I realized that as long as I jumped quickly enough, so that I didn't lose the floating height I'd gained, I could keep increasing my height.

I really wanted to get away from the situation I was in, so I kept jumping and jumping. Eventually I had gone far above the amusement park. I was floating into the blackness. I couldn't see anything around me.

I'd changed my flying motion from "jumping" to "swimming." I was now swimming through the air. Some sort of realization came to me. I couldn't really, physically, be flying. So I thought I was having some sort of out-of-body experience.

I didn't get overexcited about the supposed OBE. But I kind of began to doubt that I could be having that, either.

I had a false awakening. I was in a bed that wasn't mine. I lay face down. I felt like I was making swimming motions. I told myself, See? You only thought your astral body was flying by making swimming motions. Really, it was all just a dream, and you were lying here in bed, making swimming motions with your physical body.

But I still felt myself making swimming motions. I looked down at my body and saw it wasn't moving at all. And, yet, I saw a second body, like a ghost body, still making the swimming motions. I faded back to blackness, thinking, Well, I guess some part of me was swim-flying somewhere. And it wasn't my physical body.

I may have had the idea that I'd "flown up" into my body from the space I'd been in in my dream, and that, on joining my body, I'd woken. I may have thought that if I fell back to sleep, my "astral" body would sink back down through my bed and continue its swim-flying activity. I may actually have felt my body sink back down below my bed as I fell back to sleep.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was probably at "my family's house." My brother and mother were around. I don't know about other people. My brother was having me act out something, and he was possibly also video taping it. It may have been a movie or a music video.

We were in a number of different bedrooms. My view was always kind of tight and low, as if I were the height of a child, with not much attentiveness to my environment. The rooms always seemed kind of small and barren, with white walls and slightly harsh incandescent light.

In a couple of instances, my brother seemed to tower above me. But our relationship was still of me as the big brother to him as the little brother. He seemed to want to impress me with whatever his video project was. I seemed to think the project was cool, and I was happy to be a part of it.

At some point my brother needed me to act like a "cool person." So I needed to wear black jeans. (WTF?) I may also have needed to wear a belt with square steel studs on it. My brother and I went searching through closets for the perfect black jeans. My mother was in one of the rooms where my brother and I were going through the closet.

At another point, we were outside the house. It was night. We may have been far from the house, possibly even in a parking lot. My brother knelt (below me now) at something like a toy chest full of jeans. There seemed to be plenty of black jeans. But none of them were right for some reason.

At another point we were in the house again, looking through a closet full of blue jeans. (I'm pretty sure that at this point my brother was much taller than I again, like I was a little kid.) My brother thought that, if all else failed, we could at least use the blue jeans. But they were all too big for me. So they were no good, too.

By this point I may have been walking around in no pants, just walking around in my underwear from place to place, looking for black jeans.

Dream #2

I was outside on a pleasant, sunny day. My view fluctuated from the left to the front. I seemed to be in the wilderness, in some open area with bare soil. It may have been on a piece of land for a cabin, or something like that. In both of my views I saw piles of stuff, like piles of discarded household items and furnishings.

I also, somehow, seemed to be reading a message from another website I participate on. My friend, MY, was telling another person, or a group of people, that she didn't judge some boy on the site for something or other.

MY then said, "----- (a man) and ----- (a woman) and I are going to have a baby. I'm pregnant with the baby. And when he walks around the yard, and his pants and diaper drop off, and I see his little bottom, I don't judge him. I think it's cute."

As I looked in front of me, there seemed to be a beam, like an upright beam of wood for the frame of a house. There also may have been other rubble, mostly wood, around the beam. Just beyond the beam there may have been a pile of household goods of some kind or another.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was part of some situation that was like a TV show. In the show, there was some guy, who was either a young man or a young man dressed up like an old man. As the young man, he may have been clean-cut and slightly effeminate, wearing some kind of plaid, Abercrombie-style shirt. As the young man made up as an old man, he had white hair and wore a black suit.

The man and I were with a few other people. The man started talking about how he was gay. I said it didn't matter to me whether he was gay. I said that I wasn't gay.

There was now a transition scene, maybe to a commercial. The transition scene showed a bunch of hot girls in spandex suits like exercise outfits doing some kind of hip-hop dance on a big, wooden platform, like the floor of a dance studio. But this "floor" was either elevated above buildings, on the roof of a building, or attached like a ledge to a building. The camera panned away, revealing a huge city.

I was now in a theatre. It was like the program I'd come to watch had finished. We were all leaving the theatre. There were only a few people left in the seats. I was up in the balcony. A female friend of mine stood to my right. Looking down to the stage area, I saw a big, wooden platform. It almost looked like a gigantic, wooden bed frame, with a tall, narrow mirror as the headboard.

I told my female friend, "That's what my sister wanted me to take a picture of! She'd told me she wanted a souvenir shot of the big bed from the show. I had no idea what she was talking about. But now I remember it!" I also remembered that the "big bed" was the platform the dancers had been on during the transition scene.

I pulled out a camera and started to take a picture. There were two girls, one in her early teens and one a bit younger, standing by the stage. The older girl wore a long, maroon sweater and a wool cap, and she had straight, black hair that flowed almost down to her waist.

Either as the dream ended or as I woke up, I thought it would be a good idea to ask the two girls to stand near the "big bed," so I could illustrate the size of the bed by using them as reference points.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was at my great grandmother's house. My great grandma (who IWL passed away about two years ago) was sitting in an armchair near her front door. My sister sat at a footstool near the chair. There were other family members in the house, as if we were having a gathering or party of some kind.

My great grandma was showing us photos from a big photo album she had. The photo album had black covers, and the pages were letter-size, clear plastic page sleeves, probably with a black "backing" set into each sleeve. Each page had one photograph, which was as big as a letter-size piece of paper.

The photos were from my great grandfather's time of service in the Air Force. Apparently he had fought in World War II. My great grandma and/or my sister told how my great grandpa would send these photos home in letters. The letters would be kind of cheerful, not hinting at any danger my great grandpa was experiencing.

My great grandma had put all these photos into a book and then had then captioned each one in the same kind of cheerful, breezy tone that my great grandpa had used in his letters.

My great grandma now laughed. She said that, looking back on these photo captions, she was shocked at how naive and silly they sounded, and how they trivialized the hard experiences my great grandpa had had in the war. We all laughed.

My sister took the book. She may have had the intention either of putting the book away or of showing us the pictures, but not reading any of the captions. I asked my sister, a little forcibly, if I could see the book. I wanted to read some of the captions aloud. After my great grandma's story, the captions seemed like the most interesting thing of all.

I sat down on a footstool on the other side of the room from my sister. I looked through the pages. Some photos had captions on their bottom edges, typed in. Others had captions written on the backs of the photos, scrawled out in big letters with some purplish pencil. Others had a combination of typing and handwriting.

I now started actually looking at the photos. I was stunned when I saw a photo of a jet fighter, like an F-4 or an F-16. The fighter was on the ground, and it was largely hidden from view by big vehicles like trucks, so I only saw the nose, cockpit, and two rectangular air intake valves on either side of the nose.

I looked at the back side of the photograph. It said F-15 and something like "Flurry or Fury" or "Fluffy or Fury." The word "Fury" was then repeated. This was all typed, centered, at the top of the page, as if by an official agency. There was a little bit more official text, followed by a lot of scrawled out writing from my great grandma.

I stuttered to my family, "This -- this -- must be one of the first uses of jet fighters in actual combat situations!"

My great grandma nodded in affirmation.

I then flipped through some more pages. One group of photos showed some kind of switchboard area. Women were working the switchboards. There was one photo with a woman with dark hair, in a 1940s style, curly, down to about her shoulders. The woman wore a uniform, but I don't remember if she wore a hat. She may have been wearing small, round eyeglasses.

I said, again in surprise, that this was one of the first groups of women to be used for something like strategic or technological operations.

Dream #2

I was walking into a really busy clothing store, coming in behind a big group of people. There were racks full of clothes as soon as we came in the doors. The people in front of me kind of filtered out to different areas of the store. A little girl in a cheerful-patterned, red and white dress followed the people.

I basically went to some set of clothes racks with panties on display. There were some other people there. Two were a couple, a young man and a young woman. They both looked kind of well-off. I was afraid they would think I was a pervert for being here. I also worried whether the parents of the little girl I'd seen would think I was a pervert.

Dream #3

A song. A guitar played a nice sounding, strumming melody with a solid, but relaxed rhythm. I took this to be the foreground music. Then another stringed instrument (???) Would come in occasionally and add a little riff that sounded a bit like that "Brazil" song from the movie... um... Brazil, by Terry Gilliam.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in my neighborhood on a cool, sunny day. I saw a blossoming tree, probably a young cherry tree, on the block caddy-corner from me. I saw it as if I were up the street frfom my corner (kind of to the north), while the tree was off from its corner as well (to the east).

Somehow I knew the world was going to end. I started either seeing or sensing check-mark boxes, like check-fields on a computer screen. As certain "symptoms" of doomsday were being listed, the check-mark boxes would turn green, as if to say this had already happened. Everything stated was being checked.

Dream #2

There was a man, possibly wearing a white suit, standing in a dark room. He was lit by a shaft of light which had little, stick-like patterns of black scattered throughout it. On either side of the man another light scheme played. This one was mostly black, with little, stick-like patterns of white scattered through it. The white lines may have been straighter and more ordered than the black lines. They may also have been totally vertical. These lights may also have flickered or strobed on and off, possibly to music, and possibly as the man danced.

Dream #3

I was in some really big hotel "in Brooklyn." The hotel almost seemed to be in ruins, just a shell of an old, magnificent hotel. But there were a lot of people in there, and it seemed like they were guests. But the windows and doors all seemed to be hollowed out, the floor was just concrete, and the walls were just some kind of golden brick.

I heard or felt an earthquake (or just heard that there was an earthquake?). I went outside to see if I could feel it.

I stood out on some huge bridge, which may have been the Brooklyn Bridge. The bridge was made of tan-gold bricks. A deep, blue sky arched over it. The bridge began to heave up and down in sine-wave movements.

I now stood out on what may have been a deck for the big hotel. It was just a big, concrete area looking out over a big river (the East River?) and shaded by the height of the building. There were a bunch of people outside with me. We were all relaxed. It was like we were having a party.

Suddenly there was a feeling of dizziness and swaying. People started saying, "Whoa... whoa..." as if they were trying to get their balance. I looked down. The concrete now looked like the walkway for the Manhattan Bridge. But it was swaying and bulging. I knew this was an earthquake, but I didn't want to believe it was. It seemed like an earthquake would be really inconvenient at this moment.

It was now like I stood on a floor high up in the building. I was with a few other people. The building began swaying. It swayed so much I thought it was going to fall right over. It seemed really flexible, really elastic. It swayed down at one point so I saw some scene of concrete and rusty metal as if from a bird's eye view.

The room I was in then seemed to be "shaken loose" from the building. The room, possibly a whole floor, was drifting down to some area that also looked like ruined tangles of iron and conrete. But I kept thinking there was a chance that the room would manage to float all the way over the the Manhattan Bridge. I really wanted to be on a bridge while the earthquake was happening.

Dream #4

I was in a living room with two women. The feeling of the living room was very strange. It was almost like it was inside a house in the suburbs, but that the house was somehow on stilts or up a very high staircase.

The living room seemed pretty big. It was kind of dim, as if only one pale light was on in the room. The walls may have had some kind of pale sea-green color. The two women sat at a table. The table was covered with plush toys like stuffed animals. The two women sat next to each other on a long side of the table, which was just wide enough for them both. I knelt before the table, kind of low, so that I was barely poking my head above the table top.

I had gotten a gift for the woman on my right. This woman had a very boyish look and short hair. But she was still very pretty. I don't know what the gift was. Maybe it had been another plush toy.

The other girl laughed that I had gotten a gift for the first girl. Without her saying anything, I could tell why the second girl was laughing. Both the girls were lesbians, though they weren't lovers with each other.

The second girl, who was maybe in her late teens or early twenties, prettyish, with pale skin and long, brown hair, didn't think I knew the two girls were lesbians. She loved seeing boys express their love either for her or the first girl, and then somehow making it known that they were both gay, and making the boy feel stupid.

I was kind of annoyed by the second girl's intentions, even though I knew them ahead of time. I hadn't gotten the first girl a gift because I loved her. We had apparently worked together, and she had been a really good co-worker. So I wanted to give her a gift to show her my appreciation.

The first girl stood up and walked away. Some other things may have happened. We may all have been milling around the house for a bit. There were now a few other people in the house.

I had walked to the other end of the living room. I now turned around and walked back. There were two or three folding tables arranged in an "L" shape and cluttered over with stuff like quilts. A black or Latina woman, maybe in her late thirties, sat behind the table making the base of the "L."

I approached the woman to ask her if there was anything I could do for her. The woman was talking as if she were just finishing up talking to a group of students, for whom she was trying to coordinate some activity. But there didn't seem to be any students around.

The woman may then have spent some time explaining to me how serious she was about her work. The woman had a slightly brash, no-nonsense voice. But I could tell she really cared about people, including me -- for some reason!

The woman told me, "Yeah, go up in there and clean up the mess on the floor. But if you don't want to, you don't have to."

So I went "up there," which was a room at the other end of the living room, through a set of swinging doors. A little, black boy followed me into the room. It was a long, kind of narrow room. It may have looked a little like a dining room, with a few long dining tables in it. But it also had a lot of bookshelves along the walls (as well as really nice, big, tall windows shaded by sheer, white curtains). And there seemed to be toys on the floor.

At first I thought the job of cleaning up the floors was going to be easy -- too easy. I'd wanted a job that would make me feel like I'd really "helped the kids" (???), but this job would be over in just a few moments. The little, black boy had skip-run to the end of the rfoom and was now skip-dancing around.

I looked at the floor more closely. There was actually a lot of stuff like dough on the floor. Some of it may actually have been smashed into the maroon-colored carpet. I was relieved. This looked like a decent job. But I was uncertain whether I could actually get such sticky stuff as dough all the way out of this carpet.

The organizer woman then told me (as if I stood in front of her again) that I didn't need to clean the floor if it was going to be too big a job. She actually told me that I simply should not clean up the floor if the job looked like it was going to require a lot of effort, as this would simply be overkill.

I may have half-heartedly told the woman, "But I want to clean the floor." I wanted to do something useful.

Dream #5

I was in a living room. I stood before a couch. My friend EI, who tends bar at places where I do karaoke, sat on the left (my left) side of the couch. A man who I didn't quite see sat on the right side. The couch, as well as the living room, seemed to be cluttered with stuff like blankets and plush toys.

It felt like there was a party going on here, although I couldn't see anybody else in the room. The room also seemed quiet. The light in the room was pale, as if lit by a strong, cold incandescdent (or LED?) bulb.

The man may have been of medium height, pale white, with a slight beard and messy, short, brown hair. He may have been wearing a really baggy, dark sweater and dark pants. He may possibly have given the impression that he didn't want to talk to me.

EI and I started talking. We were soon quite aroused by each other. I told EI that I really shouldn't do anything. My friend H was in the next room, studying. H and I were pretty much together. So if H saw EI and I making out, she'd be really upset.

But even as I was saying this, I was starting to embrace EI. EI was wearing something like a dancer's outfit. It was hot pink, spandex-like material, in two pieces. The top was like a very short cut shirt, almost like a bra with short sleeves. The skirt was also very short, like an ice skater's skirt and bottom.

I embraced EI and began kissing her belly, then kissing up her chest and neck. All this time I was telling her that we really shouldn't do this. EI looked really happy with what I was doing to her.

EI was so tiny (she's pretty tiny IWL, but she was even tinier!). I wrapped my arms around her waist. Her short skirt was turning me on so much. I moved my head down so I could put my face on her crotch.

But for some reason, EI was now straddling me on the couch. Suddenly, H opened a door to the right (my right) of the couch. She poked her head out and called my name, a little matter-of-factly. I tried to say that I was telling EI we shouldn't do this.

I walked into the bedroom from which H had popped out her head. I was now laying on the bed with H. H was reading from some sort of textbook. She wore a pale brown t-shirt. The bed was just a mattress on the floor. The mattress and everything else in the room seemed really cluttered.

I had explained to H that I hadn't meant to get that involved with EI. H seemed to be okay with everything I was saying. I started kissing H softly. But she kind of pushed me off, saying she needed to study.

I walked out of H's room through a door on the wall to the left of the wall with the door through which I had entered.

I was now in a long, dim, narrow room. The room was lit with warm, dim, red and yellow light -- almost like a dim, incandescent light offset by red holiday lights. I sat in some strange, narrow space with two women. The space was like a wooden bench, a barrier made of thin, twisty, black-iron bars, and some long, thin, wooden chest of drawers. But I'm not sure how it was all arranged.

The space seemed to be set at the edge of a living room, to face a ledge down to a little, red-stone-tiled entrance area for the house. Behind us, the living room may have had one dim area with a dining table, behind which was a more normally-lit area, which was larger and possibly more like a living room.

One of the women was very boyish-looking. She was blonde, with shaggy hair. She wore a baggy, green, flannel shirt and blue jeans. She looked a little like the blonde son on the TV show Home Improvement. But her face had a sharper, more delicate look, and her faced, though tan, had an almost Spenserian combination of ivory skin and rosy cheeks. That alone made her strikingly attractive to me.

The other woman was a pretty, young woman, possibly with pale skin and black hair. The first woman and I had found the second woman on the road somewhere. We brought her here to this place.

The second woman started telling us the story of her life, and how she'd ended up on the street. The story was really sad. But the woman was so adorable that, even as she recounted her tribulations, she was really turning me on. She was also arousing the first woman.

The first woman and I walked away from the second woman. We were now in another room, which was a double room. The first part of the room was lit with soft, incandescent light and had a big chest of drawers at its center. The second part of the room had no light of its own. It had a round dining table.

The first woman and I first stood by the big chest of drawers. I thought the woman was going to tell me how she was so attracted to the second woman. I figured I'd have to leave this place while the first woman seduced the second woman.

But the woman instead told me that she'd been really impressed by the concern that I'd shown the second woman. She'd also thought it was cute that I'd been turned on by the second woman.

The first woman and I were now sitting at the table. The woman said, "So I've decided. I'm just going to do it. Right now. Three, two, one."

The woman suddenly kissed me. She kissed me quickly, backed her head away, then kissed me again. She backed away and seemed about to kiss me again. But I stopped her. I said I couldn't do this.

H popped her head out from another door and called for me. I didn't go to H this time. But her entrance into the scene did get me to stop kissing the woman.

Later I was in the first part of the room. There were a few other people there, like for a party. The chest of drawers had been set up as a buffet, with a lot of different dishes of food.

I walked over to the back side of the buffet to get some food. As I did, the first and second woman were walking away. Their backs were turned to me, and they hadn't seen me.

I noticed that both the women had extremely huge rear ends. I knew time had passed since I had last seen them. I figured they must both have gotten really overweight in the time that had passed. I thought I had been pretty lucky not to have gotten involved with them.

But I wondered if they hadn't been so terribly overweight when I'd first met them. I thought maybe they had been deceptively thin on their upper bodies, so that I'd just assumed they were thin overall. I also thought that maybe they'd disguised their being overweight with baggy clothes.

(I try not to think so shallowly in waking life. I also try not to judge anybody based on their appearance.)

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was at a train station at night. I might have been with one other person. Otherwise, the place was empty. The station was like a short, long, covered platform with fluorescent lights, with another platform, which was uncovered and completely dark. It kind of felt like I was in the middle of nowhere.

One train came on the tracks at the covered platform. I noticed either that it was the wrong train or that it was going in the wrong direction. It was like these trains were running on subway lines, even though I wasn't familiar with these lines.

There might have been two different lines at this station. Both the lines had "Queens" as one of their final destinations. One of the lines had a town that sounded like "Cambridgeshire" (???) as the second of its final destinations.

I was looking for a train heading away from Queens. Another train was arriving, this time at the uncovered tracks. I was pretty sure it was heading away from Queens, so I thought it might be the right train. I walked over to the train.

The train was very tall, with the actual car maybe one and a half meters off the ground. The inside of the train was totally dark. The train was about to pull away. I got the impression that this was the wrong train. To double check, right before the train pulled away, I jumped up twice into the air, flashing a "sign" (basically, my hands were both lifted up and spread out, as if I were trying to give someone two high-fives) into the train.

I knew now that this was the wrong train. The train may have started to pull away. I realized some person in control of some kind of rail operations had seen me flash the signs into the train. I wondered if he would think I was trying to cause some trouble, or that I had thrown something dangerous onto the train.

I walked away from the platform. I may have been hoping to find my friend and stick to him, so that nobody would think I was dangerous.

I was now with my brother and sister in a kitchen. The kitchen was probably really dim, which may have made it feel really small and crowded. We were gathered around a smallish, round, fake-wood table. One or two of us may have been standing. The other/s was/were standing.

One of us, possibly my sister, may have mentioned something bad about the way my dad had been treating us. Later, somehow, I saw my dad. He was talking to me or to everybody. But he couldn't remember my name. It was simply like he hadn't had anything to do with me for so long that he couldn't remember my name. He may have apologized for this fact. I may have told him it was okay.

Later, my dad was changing diapers. He may have been changing my diapers, although I seemed to be at least partly separated from the person changed, and the person being changed probably did seem like a small baby. The diaper was a small diaper, for a really litttle baby. It was full of urine, and it smelled horrible.

My dad may have been balling up this diaper. He may now actually have been complaining, as if his inability to remember my name were an actual shortcoming of my own.

Dream #2

I was out on a sunny balcony. The floor was probably concrete. The barrier and the apartment wall may have been bright white. I may have been sitting at something like a school desk, looking out and across to another huge building.

There was a black man behind me. He was a schoolteacher. Apparently I had been studying the subject he taught, all on my own. He was very impressed by the amount of independent interest I'd shown in his subject. He gave me some words of encouragement, then said he was going to teach his class now.

There was apparently a window to my left. I heard it open. I knew that the teacher's classroom was actually the room with the window. I looked in through the screen as the teacher began his lesson. He had erased something off a chalkboard and then written a long, kind of complex equation on the board. Somehow he made it very easy to understand, very simple.

I realized the teacher had been giving the lecture for me. So I decided to at least go in and listen, to show him I was thankful that he'd thought of me. I walked into the building.
Before the classroom there was a small alcove. I had left "my backpack" in this alcove. My textbook (as if I were actually in the teacher's class now) was in my backpack. As I went to get it, I passed the doorway into the classroom. I saw that everybody in the classroom was sitting in very small chairs, possibly with no desks.

The teacher began to criticize everybody for some kind of sloppy aspect of their work. It may have had something to do with not bringing either their work or their textbooks to class. I felt like this criticism was largely directed at me. But I felt like at least today I couldn't be criticized for not bringing my book to class.

I opened my backpack and pulled my book out. It was jammed into my backpack, amid a whole bunch of loose papers, possibly with equations all over them.

I was now out on a street in the suburbs. I was trying to get somewhere on time. I had probably left class at an awkward time specifically so I could get to this other place on time. I was walking along a street which may have felt like it was along some kind of ridge, looking down to an expanse of blocks of houses. The sky was dim, smoky grey, almost dirty-coppery.

I felt drops of rain. I thought I should head back home (?) to get either a raincoat or an umbrella. I actually turned back and walked a few steps "toward home." But I decided that since I was wearing a red, waterproof jacket, I didn't need either a raincoat or umbrella. I turned back in the direction of my destination.

I now felt a lot of rain. I turned back again, thinking I really should go back home for something. But I turned right back around, toward my destination. I figured if I hurried I could make it without getting extremely wet.

At the same time I heard a group of young boys, maybe ten or so years old, rough-housing with each other. One of the boys, a kind of shaggy-haired, blonde boy with gold-tan skin and wearing a baggy, green, plaid, flannel shirt and baggy jeans, recognized me. He shouted out to me in his rough-housing voice.

I kept walking, as if I didn't hear the boy. I knew I had promised before that I would play with him. But I couldn't do it now. I had to get to my destination. If the boy were to think I'd heard him, he'd follow me. And I didn't want him to follow me, either. I thought he'd get bored. I walked faster away.

But the boy kept following me. He called after me. I was walking fast, almost running, along a grass ridge looking down to the blocks of houses in the valley. Finally I said to the boy, "Fine. You can come along -- if you can follow me!"

I started running down a street on a slope. But I was running in something like a crawling position. But the crawling was very fast and low, almost like the height and speed of Luke Skywalker's flying car in Star Wars. (Although, on waking, I'd thought that my running position had been something like that of a scorpion.)

It was raining a lot by now. I "ran" down a steeply sloped street and then down a gently sloped street. I sped through a few more streets, zigzagging around corners. But the boy was still behind me.

I was now probably approaching my destination. I was in an area that felt like it was indoors, even though it probably was outdoors. The sky (if it was a sky) was dark.

I ran past a power plant, which was a huge area, full of shiny, silvery metal pipes, all tightly banded together, and weird, beaker-shaped structures maybe three meters tall, also made out of the silvery metal, but with some kind of blue circles on them, possibly on their bases.

It was like I was "running" on a path or aisle space around this power plant. The power plant was on my left. As I turned a corner to my left, a grocery store chain's warehouse stood on the right side of the path. It was possibly for a Kroger's, King Sooper's, or Safeway chain.

I ran around another left corner, but I found that the grocery warehouse building was going to merge with the power plant. It did, and as I rounded another corner, I found myself in a culdesac made out of the structures of the power plant and the walls of the grocery warehouse.

I turned around. The boy hadn't gotten around this last corner, but he wasn't far behind. I ran into him at some kind of stairway or something. We were definitely indoors now.

I looked to my right and saw, a ways away, a few women beyond a door and in something like a library. The women were all maybe in their mid or late twenties. They were all really pretty, with really nice bodies, and they were all dressed professionally.

I "remembered" that I had just come from that library. I had had to take a subway home from there, possibly with a group of kids I had volunteered to supervise. We'd taken a cicrcuitous route, and we'd needed to change trains at least once. After all that trouble, I "remembered," we'd only gotten to this place. But this place was a very short walk from where we'd started! I kind of thought that sometimes the train was more trouble than it was worth.

But as the boy and I walked through a set of swinging doors (like doors going into the back area of a grocery store, like a meat area), I looked back over to the girls in the library. I felt like if I kept looking at them long enough, while they were unaware of me, I'd catch some of them starting to make out with each other. I was pretty sure they were all gay, but that they were just hiding it from me.

The boy and I were now in a small, foyer-like area. To my left, the area seemed to fade off into something like an outdoor area with a maze of metal staircases. To my right was another set of doors, hard double-doors like the entrance to the school. Before me was a window wall. It was night outside and dark in this foyer-like space.

The boy was now a girl. She was a freshman in high school, and I was a senior in college. But this girl still liked me. And I probably liked her. There was another girl with us. She was probably my age.

I left the situation. The older girl told the younger girl that if she liked me she should just go with it. She should tell me she liked me.

There was now a view of the girl's family. The oldest son of the family was in a coma. The mother was watching over him. The son seemed to be laid out on a bed-like table in a room that kind of looked like a bedroom in a suburban house.

Now the scene had changed. The woman was still watching over the oldest son. But the mother was now with another woman, or possibly another two women her age. None of the women may have been wearing pants.

The mother told the other women, "My daughter told me, 'I don't care what you think! I'm just gonna live my life and love who I wanna love!'" The mother was saying this in a bragging tone, as if she were proud of her daughter standing up for herself and going out with an older boy.

The mother walked away from the group, still talking about some of the things her daughter had said. The mother's panties were loose, and I saw something jutting out from the back of the crotch, like a maxi pad or a diaper.

I was now standing out on some sidewalk, possibly in a space like out in front of an airport. It was morning. The sun was up, but it wasn't over the buildings, so there were little shafts of gold light and big pools of grey-blue shadow. It may have been cold outside.

I was out on the sidewalk with a young man who probably looked a lot like Lance Loud from the reality show An American Family. The young man was in something like the situation the girl had been in. Except now the situation was that the young man was gay. He'd told his mother, but she didn't approve. They'd gotten into an argument and hadn't spoken with each other in a while.

But now the oldest son had woken out of his coma and was coming with his mother to meet the young man. The car pulled up to the curb. The oldest son, who kind of looked like a young Andy Warhol in terrible, sixties-style clothes, got out of the car and greeted the young man.

The oldest son said, "What's the deal man? I know you need to express yourself. But think of how I did it! Do it with a little more sense and tact."

The oldest son himself was apparently gay. He had, however, broken the news to his mother with a lot better results.

The oldest son then asked the young man, "By the way, do you have any cash I might be able to borrow?"

The oldest son and the young man walked down a few cars, to an old, seventies-style cadillac which had just pulled up. It was a drug dealer's car. The oldest son and the young man were apparently going to shoot up on heroin right there, in front of everybody. The young man even had one of his sleeves rolled up!

The three of us were now in some trash-strewn area at the base of columns for a bridge. We were all sitting in furniture, like a whole living froom set had been laid out in this trash-strewn area. We were all waiting for some guy, possibly someone like a drug dealer, or someone to gived us money for drugs.

As we waited, the oldest son turned on a song by Elliott Smith, probably from his album Figure 8. I thought I knew the song. But I was only getting half the words. I wondered to myself if the oldest son liked Elliott Smith because he kind of sounded like Lance Loud. Lance Loud was something of a gay icon. So if Elliott Smith sounded like Lance Loud, maybe gay males sympathized with him. (WTF???)

The next song to play was a Beatles song. It was to the tune of "This Boy," but it had something to do with the words "Sweet Girl" or "Sweet Angel." I managed to half-sing along with this song as well.

I began to wonder if the young man was getting jealous of me. I knew all the songs the oldest son was playing. I seemed to be showing off that fact. Would the oldest son think I knew a lot, and would he fall in love with me? Was I taking the oldest son's love away from the young man? I may have stoppedd singing at this point, so it wouldn't look like I was singing to impress the oldest son.

Dream #3

I walked into a narrow-looking shop on a narrow, stage-like street of wood-fronted buildings. The store was something like a Victoria's Secret. It was getting close to closing time. There were three girls working at the shop, all talking with each other. None of them seemed too worried about my presence.

I looked around the shop. There were all kinds of panties for little girls. There was apparently lingerie somewhere as well. For some reason I thought I'd try on some of the lingerie. I thought I'd buy some of the little girl panties and wear them while I tried on the lingerie. I thought I'd ask the women working at the store if they were okay with this. (WTF?)

But the girls were still talking and joking with each other, apparently getting ready to close the shop for the night. And I still couldn't find the lingerie.

I climbed up on top of one table and then scaled up a bunch of wall-mounted racks. High up in a rack I found more little girl's panties. One pair was pink, satiny, skinny-looking panties. Another pair was like satiny boy-short panties. They were mostly pink, with some blue on the hips. They also had some design like a weird, almost tribal-looking, but cartoony, butterfly on them.

I mayy eventually have spoken with one of the girls.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I had walked away from a group of people. I was now out walking on a beach. It was a sunny day. I was walking up toward a cluster of small sand dunes rooted with little clumps of brownish and greenish grass.

I met up with a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen years old. I had known him from the group of people I had walked away from. He may have been the son of someone in the group. The boy was kind of tall, about my height (I'm kind of short), a little skinny, but muscly, darkly tanned, with slightly messy, brown-black hair. He was wearing red, knee-length swim trunks and no shirt.

I just thought I'd be cool and say hey to the boy. But he started asking me questions about my life, as if he was really interested in me. The boy started asking me why I was taking business trips to Philadelphia and Chicago, did I like taking those trips, and why did I like taking them?

The boy even seemed to be attracted to me, which I couldn't quite believe, and which seemed a little weird to me. But I may also have felt attracted to him.

We walked over the cluster of dunes and were in some kind of small valley of sand. One side was bordered by the dunes. The other side was bordered by some kind of small ledge of brown or dark tan stone.

The boy and I sat down near the ledge of stone. The boy sat with his legs bent out casually in front of him, and his hands joined together so his forearms were wrapped loosely around his knees.

I sat down and explained to the boy that I just took business trips because I was told to. It was something I did to further my career. I liked Chicago and Philadelphia. But that wasn't why I went to those places. (IWL I have never taken any business trips.)

I may have felt that the boy was going to try to kiss me or that I wanted to kiss the boy.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in "my apartment," in my bathroom, looking at my face in the mirror. The bathroom was dark, with light coming in only from another room. I was disappointed with my appearance. I felt like I looked really ugly.

There was suddenly a knock on my front door. I didn't know anybody who'd be knocking on my door at this time, so I was afraid to open the door. I went to look through the peephole to see who was there -- I was even afraid to do that.

The person at the door was a tall, muscular black man wearing a black tank top, khaki shorts, and a baseball cap tilted off to the side of his head. He was bouncing around a lot. He looked annoyed or angry. I didn't open the door or acknowledge the man. I just walked away from the door and back to the bathroom.

There was another knock at the door. This time I stood frozen in the doorway of my bathroom, afraid to even go to the door. I looked from the bathroom to the door.

My apartment was really big. It was like the bathroom was at the front of a short hallway. Between the hallway and the front door was a living room. But the living room was more like two huge rooms. Both the rooms were plainly visible, but dark. In the center was a kind of columned space that was lit with incandescent light. There was nice, kind of old-style furniture everywhere.

I somehow saw through the door, which now had a window of greenish and pinkish stained glass in a diamond-grid pattern on it. At the door were two old, white men, kind of overweight, with white hair. It was now like part of the stained glass on my door had been broken. The men could see into my house. But I didn't know if they could see me.

There was a really nice, big, comfortable armchair near the hallway. A very pretty, blonde, little girl in a really nice, fancy dress, sat in the chair. She made some kind of remark about the people at the door. The remark was made with a cheerful tone, but it was kind of dark. It made me feel like the two white men at my door were probably here only to cause trouble for me, but that I should probably open the door to them anyway.

I was about to go open the door for the men. But they now saw me through the smashed-out pieces in the stained glass on my door. The men said something about how they had only been here to help me. They were probably going to install some kind of device in my house. But if I didn't want to open the door for them, they weren't going to waste their time.

The two men left my door. I ran after them, hoping to get them so they could do whatever good thing they were going to do for me. I must have gotten down to the ground floor of my apartment building. In an area that may have been a little small and cramped, possibly busy with some kind of housework, I met a woman, another resident.

The woman said, "Oh, those guys are all holding a big meeting for all of us downstairs later on. They gave everybody that speech. They figured it was a good way to make everybody feel guilty. So that way everybody would want the thing the men want to put in the house. So now, to find out what it is, we all have to go to this meeting."

I was now outside, in a neighborhood that looked a lot like my neighborhood in waking life. It was late afternoon or early morning. The sky was deep, vivid blue, but there were also bright, red-pink clouds in the sky. I remarked to myself that I'd never seen clouds with such a strong, red tint.

Somehow my psychiatrist met me a couple of blocks down from my apartment. I was walking back to my apartment. So my psychiatrist walked with me. We passed a small family that was taking up the entire sidewalk. We had to maneuver past them. I squeezed along a chain-link fence along the sidewalk.

One of the kids of the family may have been on a tricycle. Another of the kids was a little, Latina girl with dark skin and long, black hair. She was maybe ten or eleven years old. She wore a bikini with a black and white design of tighly interlocking patterns, like Native American pottery paintings. She also may have had red scrunchees holding her hair back in either a ponytail or two pigtails.

I had been very interested in the Native American design on the girl's bikini. I had never seen that before. But the girl had been kind of crouched down near the bicycle. And when she stood up, something about the sight of her rear end as it went from a crouching to a standing position really turned me on. So I looked away, ashamed of being turned on by a little girl, especially in front of my psychiatrist.

We crossed the street. I was looking down to the sidewalk and up to the strikingly red-pink clouds as my psychiatrist spoke with me. My psychiatrist told me that she had some meeting set up with me and another psychiatrist, possibly a man. She told me that soon I'd be able to go to "special sessions" with this second psychiatrist.

My psychiatrist told me that she'd tell me more once we got inside. Apparently my apartment complex actually held her counseling office instead of my apartment.

I asked my psychiatrist if I would still be doing regular sessions with her, since the sessions with the guy would only be "special sessions." I mentioned some previous psychiatrist I'd had before, without being able to remember her name, as if I had seen her for "special sessions" while still seeing my psychiatrist for "regular sessions." But my psychiatrist didn't answer me.

My dream now took on a very scratchy, rushing feeling, like I'd usually have when I was going into or coming out of a lucid dream. I think this may have been partly because I had gotten really frustrated trying to remember the name of my previous psychiatrist.