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    maboroshi

    killer boy on brooklyn bridge; spheres and rainbows in afterlife; fried chicken tranny fashion show

    by , 11-18-2011 at 03:42 PM (443 Views)
    Good morning, everybody.

    Dream #1

    I was on the Brooklyn Bridge with my mom and possibly some other members of my family. It was like we were looking down onto the walkway of the bridge, like we were floating over it. The bridge itself looked like it was in bad shape, even like it had been charred in places.

    There was a young, white boy sitting on the footpath, in some weird contraption that seemed actually to have been made out of the footpath.

    The contraption looked like a pipe organ. But there were no pipes. Instead there was some kind of grid of square holes, where the pipes would have been. The holes were all charred, and they may have had broken-off fragments of pipes in them. The rest of the contraption seemed to be made out of wood and metal suspension wires.

    The boy started talking about how he'd taken his wife to the Brooklyn Bridge and murdered her. He'd done something really cruel to her, then he'd cut her throat.

    The boy may have said something about how he thought the Brooklyn Bridge was such a great spot for doing evil things. He may also have said he was planning to do something even more evil on the Bridge.

    I was pretty amazed. I "knew" this boy was only twelve years old. But he'd already been married and murdered his wife. I wondered what the next evil thing was that he could be planning to do.

    I may have wondered whether, since my mom and I were on the bridge, we'd have to do something evil, too. I visualized the suspension cables on the bridge snapping here and there. I may have imagined the bridge collapsing.

    Dream #2

    I was riding in a big vehicle like a van with a big group of people, possibly my family, out onto a bridge. It was like we had just come up out of a tunnel and onto the bridge. We were high over a river like the Hudson River.

    We drove on an outer lane, so I could see the river well. I looked back, to the large city we were driving away from. There were huge, curling billows of smoke, piling higher and higher. The smoke didn't look like clouds: it looked like chains of grey lava, just piling up.

    I felt like this was the smoke from a nuclear bomb. I figured that the smoke buildup was just a precursor to the great flash of light. I wondered why there was no mushroom cloud. But it suddenly occurred to me that the lava-like clouds were building themselves up into a mushroom cloud. Once the cloud was fully formed, the light would flash.

    The cloud formed a stalagmite-like pillar, and then suddenly there was a bright, white flash. It must have had some force to it. I remember hanging halfway out the window, my arm flapping in the air, in bright, white light, and unable to pull myself back into the van.

    The flash dissipated. I was back inside the van. We were still driving. We'd continued driving all this time.

    I was surprised that I didn't feel burnt. The bomb had been blindingly bright, but not hot at all. I figured we must have been too far away to feel the heat. I was afraid that if another bomb dropped, I'd really feel the heat.

    Another bomb must have gone off. There was another huge, bright flash, this time without any smoke. As the bomb's light dissipated, there was a storm of little black spheres, like marbles made out of smoky quartz, and tiny, little, cartoony rainbows. These things flickered in and out, like on a video game.

    These vanished, and we kept driving on. I'd been looking backward all this time. But now I looked forward. I knew another bomb would strike soon. But I was afraid -- more for the heat of the blast than anything else.

    This time the bomb exploded really close to us. There was a huge flash of light, again with no smoke. And again there was a huge flurry of black spheres and tiny rainbows. But the flash of white light didn't dissipate very much at all.

    I felt like everything else had vanished around me. I was pulled up out of the van -- if it still existed -- and was made to fly higher and higher up into the air. As I did, I soared through swarms and swarms of the black spheres and rainbows.

    Eventually the flash dissipated -- but not fully. For a moment I may have seen the river and city below. But then I saw only blue sky and white clouds, like I was flying upward through some sort of cloud level in a video game.

    I began to be able to control my flight through the crowds of black spheres and rainbows, but not really well. I would fly quickly at the spheres and rainbows, hitting them, as if I were "collecting" them.

    At some point I realized that this must be the afterlife. I'd become a spirit, and now I was operating on some kind of spirit level.

    This struck my "reasonable" side (if you can't tell, even IWL, I don't have much of a "reasonable" side) as odd. I remembered a dream I'd had, as a kid, about dying in a nuclear bomb blast. In that dream, my spirit had drifted up through a tunnel darkness and clouds, up to a big, full moon.

    I thought that had been the correct version of the afterlife. So, I thought, this version would probably change into that version at some point.

    I told myelf to remain calm and stable and keep flying around in the black spheres and rainbows. Eventually, I figured, this vision would fade into a vision of me drifting up into the moon.

    Dream #3

    I was in some kind of room with a few other people. I may have known a few of them, and one of them may have been my mother. It felt like there were a lot of us. But the room was pretty big, and we all had our own space.

    The room looked kind of like a bedroom. There was a huge line of bunk beds, maybe enough beds for eight or so people. Then there was a concrete floor. Off to the right of the beds, there was a space with a cluttered grouping of plastic chairs.

    Across the floor from the beds was a big piece of furniture, like a huge dresser. It was about waist-high, and there was a TV on top. Behind the TV there was a little ledge, and then some more space, like a little cubby hole with more bed-like mattresses.

    People sat on the beds and in the chairs. It was almost like we were all watching TV. But we were really hanging out, waiting for some people to get us for some reason or another.

    Some of us may have been eating fried chicken. Others may have been eating wraps, like the hot wraps at Pret-a-Manger. I may have been eating a wrap that had fried chicken inside of it.

    For some reason I put on a pair of white, satiny panties, and a white, satiny or lacy bra. I started walking around like this in front of everybody. I was partly ashamed of myself for doing this, being a guy and walking around in lingerie. But I also felt like I was part of some fashion show.

    I went back to my space on the bunk beds, the mattresses of which were folded up, like futons, to appear like couches. I was looking for my regular clothes. I may have found them. I was really eager to change back into them.

    But now it really like there was a fashion show. Some other guy walked around in front of everybody in lingerie. I just watched. I don't think I changed out of the lingerie I was wearing.

    A little boy was supposed to go next. The boy was maybe five years old. He ran away from his dad, who may have been trying to get the boy ready for the fashion show. The boy stood at the other end of the room, eating a hot wrap. He may have only been wearing Underoos underwear.

    I realized the dad had been trying to put the boy into lingerie. But the boy didn't want to wear women's lingerie. He wanted to be a boy, not a girl.

    I didn't think it was fair for the boy to have to wear lingerie if he didn't want to. But I realized that it was kind of my fault. I'd started this whole weird "fashion show" thing by walking around in lingerie. Now it was even affecting the little boys.

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    Updated 11-18-2011 at 03:50 PM by 37466 (changed "clouds and clouds" to "swarms and swarms")

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