non-lucid

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was coming to see the birth of a baby. I had apparently seen the mother give birth before (possibly in an earlier part of this dream). I hoped I wasn't late this time.

It was day, and I was running toward the house. I seemed to be coming at the house from the back. The house was very small, white, and in a rural setting.

I noticed that the land behind the house had become a huge pool of water, apparently right from the backdoor. I stood at the edge of this pond, looking toward the backdoor.

A group of men and women about my age all exited the backdoor. A woman stayed in the house. She handed the newborn baby to a tall, skinny, slightly bearded man. The man may have dunked the baby in the water. This was the baby's birth.

I jumped in the pool (I was wearing a backpack, for some reason). I swam toward the group of people. I wanted to be part of the birth process so much.

I thought to myself that I've always worried about seeing a baby still covered in everything right after birth. But now the baby would be clean. I was disappointed and relieved at the same time that I wouldn't have to see the baby right after birth.

Everybody was now carrying the baby toward the far back end of the pond. I had to swim all the way over there to reach them now.

I got to the group of people. It may now have been all women. They were all talking with each other in cooing voices. I tried to be a part of whatever they were doing. But I couldn't see the baby anywhere.

I may have seen somebody carry the baby, now wrapped in swaddling cloths, over the edge of the pond. The pond was bordered by a ledge of flat, grey stone. I clumsily hoisted myself, in my wet clothes, onto the ledge. Beyond the ledge there was a slight drop down to some bare, dusty soil. I jumped.

When I landed, I was reminded of my backpack. I thought of how wet it must be. Then I remembered that my computer was in my backpack! It must be soaked right through!

I walked around the right side of the pond, heading back toward the house and the spot where I'd jumped into the water. I was trying to convince myself that my computer really wasn't soaked all the way through. I'd had it in its case after all, right? But I knew that was a lousy argument. The case wasn't waterproof. I knew I'd have to test it.

I got back up to the edge of the pond, then I turned around and walked back toward the back end, but up on the ledge instead of down in the dirt area.

I may have encountered my old friend K or my mom. I explained my problem with my computer. K/my mom asked me why I jumped in the pond with my backpack on. I replied that seeing the baby was so important that I didn't care what I was wearing.

I now had my computer sat on the ledge, opened, and turned on. I said, "See? It doesn't work. I'm just getting this one program you always get when your computer doesn't work. It's like a sign from the company that your computer is broke."

The program was some yellow and green colored video game that reminded me of an Atari 2600 video game.

My view may have changed to a dark office, where I was all alone.

Dream #2

I was in my great-grandmother's house. I sat near the front door. I sat on one of my great-grandmother's stools and ate some kind of sandwich.

I was probably by myself in the house, waiting for other people to arrive. The lights in the house were all on, and it was warm.

Some of my family had gone to the hospital with my great-grandma. She may now have been dead. Regardless of that, the doctors had done a bad job on her.

I recalled one particular statement made by a doctor. My great-grandmother had had something like a stroke. The doctor said that my great-grandma's brain would heal itself, so that there was so need for treatment.

I laughed to myself, thinking that they all should have realized there was a lot more damage than they'd thought, and that my great-grandma had actually needed a lot more help, especially since she was so old.

I tried to remember something about what the doctor had said. It had something to do with the electrical patterns in the brain, how they travelled in circles. I could feel the electricity in my brain, travelling counter-clockwise in my skull.

I remembered that the doctor said that if you have an electrical anomaly, such as a minor stroke, you could often wait for the electricity to come back around and reset the messed up part of your brain.

Now I had an electrical anomaly in my brain. I was having trouble speaking, as if my tongue were way too thick for me to talk with. I wondered if my mouth were just too full of food. In panic I pulled whole chunks of tomato out of my mouth. They looked like the upper palates, like for braces.

I tried to speak again, but my tongue still wasn't getting words out. I was pacing around the house, in a bit of panic. I convinced myself that it would just take time for my tongue to heal.

Just then my sister and great-grandmother walked in the door. I knew I couldn't speak, so I just kept quiet, trying to show by my facial expression how happy I was to see my great-grandmother.

My sister sat me and my great-grandma down on a red, plasticky couch (very unlike the couch my great-grandma had). My great-grandma seemed to be a lot livelier than she'd been in a long time. But I still was unable to speak!

My great-grandma (wearing a grey, tweed coat) said to me, "Aren't you going to say anything? Here I've come all this way to say hello. Aren't you going to be grateful and talk with me?"

(Good -- um... afternoon, everybody. On the weekdays, I usually write my dreams in the morning, on my subway ride in to work. But this morning I didn't think I remembered any dreams.

Then, sitting at work (really stressing over something, in fact), I suddenly recalled this dream. Weird.

The dream is weird. I'd say at least part of the influence on it is the fact that over the past couple days I've been reading Jack Kerouac's Book of Dreams. In one dream, Kerouac meets Dinah Shore. That dream was so charming, I think I also wanted to have a dream where I met a celebrity. So my unconscious obliged... kinda.)

Susan Faludi was out in the desert doing research on a new book she was writing. The book was similar to The Terror Dream. But this book had less to do with feminism and more to do with some general national conspiracy. I probably identified with Faludi or saw through her eyes.

Faludi had discovered whatever it was she had been trying to discover. She may now have been standing by her car in an empty road in the middle of the desert. Faludi may have slammed down the trunk or hatchback of her car with an air of finality.

She intended to go somewhere. Instead of taking her car, which now may not even have existed, she flew up into the air, possibly by means of a red and white striped parachute.

She flew away to her right, along the road. She knew that she actually needed to head along the road, but in the opposite direction. She flew over a small overpass. This overpass was a landmark telling her she was definitely going in the wrong direction.

The wind was carrying her in this direction, although she "had control" over "her power of flight." She kept telling herself that she would work up the momentum of the wind in order to get swinging around in the correct direction.

But she kept flying and flying in the wrong direction. It was now night. Faludi was in the woods. It was cold and snowing. Still flying along the highway, I/Faludi (I definitely was part of her decision making process here) saw a billboard. The billboard was on a 50-foot tall, steel column.

I knew that if I/she grabbed on to the guard rail in front of the walkway before the billboard, I/she could stop the uncontrolled flight and at least get my/her bearings. So Faludi grabbed the railing and did some kind of elastic flip onto the walkway before the billboard.

The walkway was snowy and lit by a few fluorescent flood lamps. Othewise, everything was snowy, cotton-grey dark. Some pine trees may have reached as high as the billboard.

Faludi huddled behind some weird, clear, plastic rectangle which I figured was some kind of a solar panel for powering the billboard's lights. Faludi thought she could call someone, perhaps her husband, to pick her up here. But it was just so cold, and she felt like it would take forever for someone to get here.

I had a false awakening. I was going about my "daily life" when somebody, possibly my mother, told me that Susan Faludi had died. I was really surprised and upset. I regretted the fact that I'd never gotten to meet her.

But it also seemed weird that Faludi should have died. She had always seemed like such a healthy person to me.

Somehow I saw a photo of her -- possibly on the web. The photo showed Faludi in a motorized wheelchair, like they have at the front of grocery stores, the kind that look almost like cars or scooters with baskets on the front. Faludi was overweight, with short, grey hair. She wore a white t-shirt and black slacks, both of which were sloppy and tight on her.

Again, this didn't make sense. I thought, There's no way Faludi could have changed this quickky. I began to doubt seriously whether Faludi was in fact dead.

(Just one small note on this, from November 14th. After looking at some news images, I realize that the image Susan Faludi is hiding behind in the snow is a teleprompter. I'm not sure why a teleprompter is hanging out on a billboard. And I'm not sure why I thought it was a solar panel.

But, then again, I'm still not sure why this dream involved Susan Faludi. The actions in this dream are completely the opposite of what I feel Falud's actions would be. They're more like what I think my own actions would be. So maybe the dream is saying I wish I was like Susan Faludi, but that I'm just still horribly, embarrassingly like myself. Oh, well.)

Good morning everybody. I remember one dream from last night. It feels a little fragmented.

I was at my great-grandmother's house. The house was lit by grey daylight coming through the windows. My great-grandma was either close to dying or else she had just died (although in waking life she died about a year ago). A lot of the family was at her house.

I had been wearing a red flannel jacket, which reminded me of a red flannel jacket my great-grandma wore. But I had taken it off.

Some people, probably including my mom and sister, had started doing the laundry. They might have started doing everybody's laundry, because we had been at my great-grandma's house for so long.

Now my sister had a red flannel jacket. She was looking all over the house for it, but she couldn't find it. Some other family members, probably including me, were trying to help her find the jacket. My sister was probably also blaming other people in the house for having taken the jacket. They knew how much it meant to her, because it either was or was like the jacket my great-grandma always wore.

At some point, I was laying on my stomach on the floor in the living room. Before me, just to the left (my left) of the TV, was a laundry basket full of clothes. The basket was full of all kinds of random clothes, including either a bride's gown or a bridesmaid's gown. I could tell the clothes were still dirty. It was like my mom and sister had planned to do laundry but then just left the job.

I could see a red flannel jacket or sweater at the bottom of the basket, under all the dirty clothes. I knew it was mine. At last I'd found it! So I took it and put it on.

I was now walking through a store that feels now to me like a mix between a grocery store and the perfume department at Macy's. It may have been night. There were other people in the store.

I walked around in the red flannel jacket. I wondered if it was good to wear a jacket that had been sitting at the bottom of a basket of dirty clothes, some of which had been quite smelly.

I reached my hand into one of the pockets. I pulled out an eyeglass lens, probably for the right eye. The lens was big, for really big, old eyeglass frames. I knew it was a lens for one of my great-grandmother's eyeglass frames.

I now remembered, as if it had happened in some earlier part of the dream, how one of the lenses had popped out of my great-grandma's glasses, and how my sister had been panicked looking for the lens.

As I walked through the grocery store I thought how it was only natural that the lens would end up in the jacket pocket. After all, the lens must have popped off near the jacket. Then the jacket had been buried in the laundry basket where nobody could find it.

Good morning everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a bedroom with a woman I don't recognize. The woman was white, with pale skin and brown hair. The bedroom was dim, as if heavy curtains blocked the windows. The room may have had grey carpet. The woman lay on a mattress on the floor. She was naked.

I crawled over to the woman and lay on top of her. I may have actually started having sex with her. But then somebody else, one of my friends, possibly D, made it known that he was coming into the room.

I got off the woman. The woman, now wearing a satiny, blue dress with a long skirt with slits all the way up either side, just turned on her left side and let her skirt flow between her legs. I thought that, in that position, she still looked almost naked. I may have even told her something like she looked like she was still inviting someone to have sex with her.

I went back to sitting or kneeling at the foot of the bed. The guy came in and was doing something weird. Then he walked into another room. The woman started complaining about the guy, calling him immature.

I told the woman that I recognized that same kind of behavior pattern in myself, and that I was trying to get rid of it, so I could be more mature.

At the beginning of my response, I was watching a set of boxes that were stacked against a wall being replaced with orange cushions like couch cushions, as if movers were walking up, taking away the boxes, and leaving cushions in their place. At the end of my response, I was standing about ten feet away from the woman's mattress, near the head of the mattress.

I may have walked into the kitchen, off to my right. This may have been the same room the man had walked into.

Dream #2

My mom was throwing a party at her house. We were in her living room, which was empty except for a long, narrow folding table on which was food.

The living room was dim, as if the only light was coming from some other room. I could see through the front window that it was pitch black outside. There were a few people here, all gathered listlessly around the table. Nobody seemed engaged with the party at all.

Some kind of conflict occurred. People started leaving the party. My sister even left the house. I followed after my her, trying to make sure she was okay.

I opened the front screen door. I really couldn't see anything outside. But I heard my sister call my aunt "mom." This shocked me so much that I went back inside. I tried to figure out what my mom had done during thr party to offend my sister so much that she had started calling my aunt "mom."

Dream #3

I was in a small meeting room which was brightly lit with fluorescent light. There were a lot of people sitting in folding chairs with white, plastic backs. I sat near the front, in an outside chair on the right side of the room.

Suddenly, from behind me, there was a commotion. I stood up and turned around to see what was going on.

The chairs were now all in disarray behind my row. The floor was also cluttered and messy. A pretty, young, Asian woman stood out of her seat, screaming, "What is it? What is it?"

I looked down to the floor and saw a roach about an inch long scurrying toward the front of the room.

Everybody seemed to be panicked. I don't like roaches, but I tried to explain that it wasn't such a big deal, and that I could even kill it if they wanted me to. But I hoped they wouldn't want me to, because it would be gross.

Good morning everybody. I remember two dreams from last night. But my memory of both is a little fuzzy. I took some NyQuil last night because I have a cold.

Dream #1

I had just gotten off a plane. I got into an old, baby blue VW Beetle, which was in something like an underground parking lot. I'm not sure exactly what I did in the Beetle, because I didn't move the car.

I walked up into some kind of terminal corridor at the airport. There were very few people around. The place looked old and dim. I walked though this terminal and into another parking garage.

I was walking through this parking garage as if I were just going to walk straight out of the airport. But then I remembered that I had a car in this parking garage, and that I needed to drive it home. It was actually my mom's car. It was a Cadillac, like from the 1970s.

I turned around and walked back in the direction I had come from. I may have been able to see back into the terminal, which may now have looked like a big, empty living room with a big concession stand in it.

I found the Cadillac parked so it faced a concrete wall. I got in and began to pull it out of the parking space. I figured this would be a fine car to drive back to my mom's house.

But then I remembered that I already had my mom's other car, the VW Beetle, parked in the parking garage on the other side of the airport and way underground.

I stopped the Cadillac, trying to figure which car I should drive back to my mom's house. I hated the Beetle. But it was my mom's car, and I would have to bring it back to her. I couldn't figure out how I could get both cars home. I also couldn't figure out how I'd gotten both cars here in the first place.

I pulled the car back into the parking space. Something about that action felt so good that I did it again and again. I couldn't quite get the car between the lines of the parking space.

I began imagining myself as a businessman from the 1970s: a tall, white, handsome man with blue eyes, a silly kind of permed hair-do, and a full but well-trimmed beard. The man's hair was brown but greying a little. The man wore a very slim grey suit with a pale blue shirt.

Dream #2

A man and woman in their 40s or 50s were trying to escape from some group of people. The man and woman ended up in a room in a building like a mansion. In this room, you would perform some kind of ritual and it would do something like make you immortal.

The man had gotten the woman to undergo this ritual before the people had come. The view had been from outside the room, so I couldn't see what had happened inside the room.

Now it was like everything had started all over again. The man and the woman went to a few different places. Then they ended up being pursued by people who didn't want them to do the ritual.

The man and woman were on the run. They were back at the mansion. They stood inside a dim, wood-walled room. They were trying to unlock and open a huge, heavy wood door. There was a feeling of urgency, as if the people pursuing the man and woman could be here at any moment. The lights in the room were flickering on and off, as if it were thundering inside.

Finally the man and woman got the door open. Beyond the door there was a lot of flashing. I was really curious what this whole thing was about, and I didn't want this "movie view" from outside the room. I really wanted to see what happened in the room.

I now identified with the man. I was him. I stood in the room. The room was wide and square, and it was almost entirely taken up by a strange pool. The pool seemed to be filled with clouds rather than liquid. The clouds may also have been flashing, as if with lightning. I now understood that this pool was some kind of portal to another dimension.

The man and woman knew the people were coming. So they had to jump in the pool. The man/I decided to go first this time. I jumped out really far and did some kind of twirling diver move.

I began descending through the clouds. There was white light and a calm, but almost electric, feeling all around me.

Good morning. I remember two dream fragments from last night.

Dream #1

I was sitting indoors at a table with either a woman or a man. The table was big and solid, like a work table, but almost as low as a children's table.

A woman, possibly a young, Asian woman, began bringing out a bunch of desserts. Almost all the desserts had the theme of being sliced like pie and being made out of chocolate that looked like actual strawberries. They just looked like pie slices made out of fresh, raw strawberries. But the strawberries were really chocolate.

The last dessert the woman brought out was different. It was like a tray of different kinds of chocolate. But the chocolate was all colored white and gold. There might also had been some biscuit-like things in with the chocolate. The tray this chocolate was in was wooden, pale, and sturdy.

Dream #2

I sat somewhere with a man, who was a friend of mine (though I don't recognize him now) sitting to my right. We were inside or under some kind of structure, but we were looking out at a wide view of a sunset, possibly at a beach. We sat on a ledge of wood, in what now feels like an empty frame where something like a breakfast bar had once been.

The light from the sunset was intensely golden orange, filling the atmosphere and giving everything a metallic shine.

I knew that this guy liked a certain girl. I had been kind of flirting with the girl a little bit, too, though I don't think I was really interested in her. I decided to give the girl up so there would be no misunderstanding between me and my friend.

Good morning. This dream is kind of weird. I think it's also just a fragment.

I was in a busy mall full of people. The mall had a lot of very narrow corridors, rather than a few wide corridors. The storefronts may have been small and packed with items like tall posters or stands made to look like anime charcters. The place was extremely packed with people.

I knew this was a "fetish mall," a mall filled only with stores catering to people's various fetishes. I had been here before (possibly in the first part of this dream, which I may have forgotten).

An attractive, young woman poked her head out of one of the storefronts. She was pale, with long, brown hair, a blue or green t-shirt, and blue jeans.

She asked me some question about the store she was about to go into, something about whether the fetish comics in the store were appropriate for women as well as men. I told her that it was fine if she wanted to read them. She nodded and popped her head back into the store.

I continued walking through the crowds of people. I wondered either why a woman would want to read fetish comics made for men or why a woman would ask permission to do so, especially permission from some person she didn't even know, like me.

I turned left, into another fetish store. The inside of this store was huge. It seemed like a big bookstore, but it had other stuff in it. I think it actually may have looked like a cross between a bookstore and a dollar store.

I didn't look around very much. This place wasn't as crowded as the corridor had been, but it was still very busy. Plus, I felt like I was going somewhere with purpose. I felt like my feet were walking, almost gliding, toward a certain place on their own. But I also felt like I knew where I was going, like I'd been there before.

I felt like one of the higher ups at my old job, a woman who in waking life had been extremely supportive of me, was following me. I then felt like a lot of people were following me, mostly people I'd known from work.

I walked down a staircase that had a sign above it. The sign was white with red capital letters. It listed the items being sold below.

I was downstairs. It looked like a department store, a cheap department store. There were some displays showing bed sets, some displays showing living room sets, and some displays showing toilets. Sometimes all the stuff was mixed together.

A woman off to my right caught my attention. She was maybe in her late 50s or early 60s. She had red hair, tanned skin, and thin eyes. She wore a blue dress. Her hair was arranged a little weird, almost shoulder length, but permed out to one side, so she looked lopsided.

The woman directed me into an area full of lingerie. She intended for me to try on certain items. I wondered if that would be alright. After all, would they really want a guy touching that stuff, especially if he didn't intend to buy it?

The area the woman led me into was a big, red room. There was nothing, or very little, in the room. There were dressing rooms along the right wall.

We walked past a table of black and red underwear. They looked kind of satiny and lacy. A sign over them said "2 for $5." I thought maybe I should buy a pair of these right now to wear while I was trying on this other stuff the older woman had for me. That seemed polite to me somehow. But I decided instead to wear my own boxer briefs while I tried stuff on. But I felt bad about that, as if it were rude of me.

The woman stood me in front of a dressing room. She began showing me different articles of underwear. She went into great detail on their design, showing all kinds of things like stitching. But I really wasn't interested in this. The more I looked at the panties, the more they somehow looked to be made out of the same fabric as basketball jerseys.

The woman now showed me a pair of panties that she said were made with padding. I couldn't figure out why they'd need padding -- maybe to give women a better shape? I looked at them. They looked like a mix between underwear and diapers.

The woman told me to feel the padding. So I did. It looked like the inside of a diaper. But it felt like bags of sand, like the tiny sand bags in weight-exercise bracelets.

I looked at the underwear again. They looked like a mix between Ace Bandages and diapers. The price was written in pencil on the bottom: $19.50. I thought, That's a bit much, for something I'm never actually going to wear.

The woman said, "This pair is the first thing I'd like you to try on." She motioned me into a dressing room stall.

The stall was barely large enough to fit me. It was dimly lit. I was mostly undressed, except my underwear. I thought I'd keep them on. But now I had nothing on. I was holding the diaper-thing in my hand. I was looking for all my clothes.

Now I had nothing at all. I was trying to figure where I'd put everything. Now I realized I'd actually thrown everything over the dividing-wall between stalls. The dividing-wall was just above my head. I reached over to discover the other stall packed with clothes, all the way to the top of the divider.

I kept reaching over the divider, trying to find my clothes. I even tried to find the diaper-thing figuring that that article of clothing was almost mine anyway, and that it was better than nothing. But I kept pulling up completely unknown articles of clothing. All this time, the changing stall may have gotten smaller and smaller.

Good morning, everybody. I'm glad it's the weekend.

I remember two dreams from last night.

Dream #1

I was on the second floor of an art museum. The floors were set up to be wide open, with tall ceilings. The floors were dark concrete. I could see down to the first floor from a weird-shaped cutaway.

The art was all sparsely placed. It was all like sculptures made out of different random items. Some stuff was tall and hanging from the ceiling. Other stuff stood alone on the floor. Other stuff was on the walls.

I don't remember the name of the exhibit, but I remember it struck me as very edgy and interesting, like something about global pop art by some oppressed group of people.

I was then down on the first floor, possibly in front of the cash register at the gift shop. I was with a woman. We were talking to the cashier, a very pretty woman.

She was telling us something about how this exhibit traveled. The way she told us made it sound like Europe, Japan, and the US were all situated in three layers, one on top of the other. I saw all three regions in my mind's eye as pieces of geographically-shaped plastic, one stacked on the other.

Dream #2

I had either taken heroin or had it injected into me. I felt a little warm and dizzy. I walked around in a bedroom and then went out to a living room.

The room was dim and yellowish, as if bright sun from outside were blocked by thick, beige curtains.

I knelt before a bed and rested my arms and head on the bed. A tall, skinny, white man with slightly tanned skin and blue eyes sat on the bed.

He looked down at me and said, "Did you take the heroin? Yeah, I took some, too. Only thing is, now that you've taken it, you'll see that you can't stop. Sure, you feel fine now. But wait till it wears off. You'll be screaming in pain."

I was afraid. I didn't want to be addicted. But I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten the heroin in my system. I remembered some vial of amber colored liquid. It had been injected into the space between my shoulder and neck.

I thought, Well, maybe I won't be addicted. After all, the guy said I'd feel really good and then really bad. But I don't feel really good. I only feel normal, maybe just a little bit warmer than usual.

Good morning

(I think this is a single dream, because I can't remember waking up at any time. Usually I do remember waking up between dreams.)

I was with a woman about my age. She was my friend. I had helped her out with some kind of work, possibly homework. Now I was walking with her into her workplace.

She took me around the building. The buidling she worked in was some kind of official building, and access to it was somewhat restricted. I had always wanted to see inside. Since I had helped her with her work, my friend took me on a private tour.

We got to some wall-sized window that was as wide as a hallway. It looked out across a small courtyard and across to another wall of the building. It was late afternoon, and the windows on the opposite wall were orange with sunset.

I knelt down, possibly to write something in a notebook. But I soon realized that my friend had to get to work. She had been kind enough to show me around, I thought, and I shouldn't take up any more of her time.

We walked to a big, black-stone, triangular front desk in a huge, glass-walled lobby. My friend worked here as something like a security guard.

I now walked toward the doors, through a moderately busy crowd of business people.

I was outside the building. It may have been early afternoon. The light was a dimmish grey-blue in the shade of the building.

I was waiting for a friend. Now I saw her. She looked like my old friend P. She may have been walking with a tall, handsome, blonde businessman.

My friend and I started talking. We walked into a building adjacent to the one I had just left. The lobby of this building was huge as well, but without any windows. The fluorescent light made everything look a little greenish and dirty.

To my left I saw one of my old co-workers, MD, walking past. I went to catch up and say hi. But when I got up to the person, he turned out to be someone completely different. I greeted him anyway. He said I was confused and walked on.

I went back to my friend and told her that MD always did stuff like that, pretending to be somebody else. I laughed a little.

I was now in a cafeteria. I sat in a small, booth-style seat. A line of people behind my seat, running along the food-serving counter, just kept getting longer and longer. It didn't seem like anybody was getting served.

I heard some man and woman in line talking about a movie called Schizophrenia. I got excited, thinking I recognized the movie. I went to the man and woman and asked, "Were you just talking about Schizophrenia, the movie by Dario Argento?"

(I think I meant the movie Suspiria.)

The man and woman just stared at me blankly, as if they didn't know how to respond, and they didn't want to speak to me, while they also didn't want to be rude. I felt ashamed, so I walked away.

As I was thinking of leaving the cafeteria altogether, a man called out to me, "Hey! You like to movie Schizophrenia?"

I said, "Yeah."

I turned to the man, who was leaning on a trashcan. He was tall, pale, with jaw-length, greying brown hair and a broad face. He wore a tan jacket.

The man started telling me how insane it was to work on the set of the film. He said that people stayed in character all the time. So sometimes you had these disgusting zombies all over the place. It was almost like a horror film itself.

I laughed and said, "I guess it's like those Day of the Dead movies." I lifted up my right leg and scratched it. I pulled up my sock. I felt a little embarrassed having mentioned Day of the Dead. I didn't know if that was a movie that people who liked Schizophrenia thought was cool.

I now had a vision of blue human figures roiling about in tan gravel. It was very disturbing. I thought, This is what the man must have seen.

I was now with a group of friends. We were heading into a McDonalds that was on the second floor of a building. The McDonalds was dark and empty (it was late at night).

I stood at the register with one of my old co-workers, L, who is tall, pale, and overweight. We waited at the register, but no workers came to serve us.

Larry started saying something about this being just the kind of thing you can expect when you're dealing with labor unions. He then stopped himself and said, "I better not say that too loud. They're liable not to serve us. Or they're liable to harm us in some way for talking bad about them."

I thought, wouldn't it be funny if you had to serve yourself at this McDonalds? If that was how bad things had gotten?

I imagined myself in this empty McDonalds, going into the back area and fixinjg all my food. Then I would pay a computerized register for everything.

We seemed now to be driving away from the McDonalds. But I was still imagining things. I imagined that things had gotten so bad that you couldn't even cook your food at the McDonalds anymore. You just had to eat it ice cold.

I could see a frozen Egg McMuffin as part of an ad. Apparently, the ad was trying to make eating frozen-solid food sound desirable, trying to trick everybody into not realizing McDonalds just didn't want to cook their food anymore.

I was now in the bedroom of a big house. I was on a top floor. The walls were brick. I was getting ready for bed.

A woman had told me, before I'd gone into the room, that there was a group of something like fundamentalist Christians on the loose. If they caught you doing anything non-normal, they'd kill you. They could sneak into your bedroom, too.

I pulled all the blankets down on the bed, revealing light-green sheets. I figured I'd lay on the sheets, not under the blankets, and with my head at the foot of the bed. I wouldn't read anything, because reading was considered non-normal. And I would try to keep perfectly still. This way nobody would think I was doing something non-normal. But if they decided to attack me, I also wouldn't be encumbered by my blankets.

My light was still on when I lay down. I heard a sudden laugh from outside my door and down the hall. It sounded like my old friend D laughing and flirting with a girl.

I stood up to go see what was going on. In my mind's eye I could see a yellow latex glove.

I was now outside, in some backyard area at night. It was snowing, and the snow was about six inches deep on the ground. A woman had told me before I'd come out here not to venture outside, because the severe weather conditions would kill me. Now I hoped she wouldn't discover I'd been outside and punish me.

I walked into a small, wooden, shed-like house. The door was wide open. My friend D was inside, lying on his bed, which was near the door. The room was cluttered, but in a comfortable way.

D told me he was going to venture outside. I thought that was a dangerous idea, as the woman might punish us if we went back outside. But D went anyway.

I looked out into the severe conditions (which weren't very severe now -- it wasn't snowing, and the snow on the ground was mostly melted). A few moments later, I'd realized that D had gotten into a dangerous situation.

I rushed outside to help him. He had fallen into a narrow hole just as wide as, and a bit taller than, a human being. D had been in the hole so long in these severe conditions that he was now frozen solid!

I rushed to help him out of the hole. I might have had the help of a woman. D was now a woman. She was tall, with deep-copper skin and long, black hair. She had a slightly large, soft belly and big breasts.

I hugged the woman, crying because I'd thought she'd died.

I stood back from the woman. We were in the desert, with sagebrush all around us. The woman was wearing a horizontal striped shirt of purple, yellow, and black, and a pair of pale blue jeans. I wondered why I was so attracted to this woman. She didn't seem so attractive to me. But I was just so happy to see her alive that I again hugged her and cried deeply.

I was now on the second floor of some building, in an area that looked like a small school cafeteria. I either was Jaden Smith or I was watching a movie in which Jaden Smith played a boy who had been homeless but was now living in a shelter.

The boy ended up needing to save somebody. So I/he decided I/he would. It involved some act like going into a room and shoving either his/my head or whole body into water.

When I did this, I woke up laying face-down in the sand in a box canyon in the desert. I figured I must have done something wrong, because I had no idea where I was.

I looked to my left. I saw the woman I had saved. Behind and beyond her, on either side of the box canyon, were women standing against the walls (which were pretty sheer, and a sun-baked brown). The women were dressed in shimmery, Ancient Egyptian style dressed. They also had wings. They would lift their wings (and arms?) slowly up and then slide them slowly down.

I figured that since something like this was going on, I must have done the right thing. I at first lay back down on the (cool? moist?) sand. But then I got up and started walking through the desert.

Only a small distance away was a small park. It looked like a normal city park: trees, lawn, shade. It didn't look like a desert at all.

I walked up to a group of people who were having a picnic. There was a man in the family who was nitpicking everybody. Finally he may have walked away.

I was in the backseat of a minivan. My dad had driven me and my brother somewhere, possibly to the airport. He let us out. My brother, in the front seat, said goodbye to my dad and went into the building.

I opened the back door, told my dad goodbye, and got out. I could tell my dad was disappointed and a little angry that I hadn't said more to him. It had been so long since I'd seen him. Now I was leaving with few words.

So I got back in the van and said something nice to my dad. He reached back and hugged me.

We got out of the van, which may now have been a car. We went back to the trunk.

I now hugged my dad even more and started crying. I apologized for not being around when my aunt died. I felt horrible. My dad handed me a sheet of paper. Typed on both sides of it were small paragraphs talking about all the ways in which I'd failed my family. At the top of the second side was a paragraph mentioning my not being around when my aunt died. I couldn't read anything very well because I was crying so much.

The piece of paper eventually became a magazine and then something like an online news program. The show I was watching was about the top 10 crimes of the year.

One crime was a person who had killed a police woman when she went to address a 911 call at a house. I now saw a video. It turned out that four family members and the cop had been killed. The video showed the four family members' bodies lying in a field of gravel and patchy grass. The bodies were laid two-by-two. The heads of the one pair were placed against the heads of the other pair, so that the feet faced in opposite directions.

The woman officer had been found buried. The video showed the officer's body unburied, curled up, and covered in dirt.

The video now did all kinds of strange panning moves, as if the camera were all alone in the field, floating around and filming the bodies in an experimental-film kind of way.

I now heard the narrator (?) mention the next crime. My view changed into a tall, pale man wearing a grey sweater and grey cap. He had shaggy hair and a shaggy beard and glasses.

The narrator mentioned that the man was owner of a fetish bookstore. He had molested and killed a number of little girls. The narrator listed his crimes, which ranged from some terrible stuff down to "blocking people with his legs so they couldn't go anywhere."

I saw a view of the man in something that looked like a school hallway, heading into a restroom.

Dream #1

I was in a big house. The house was set up so that it stretched along narrowly. I don't know where any of the rooms were, The place just seemed like one big corridor.

The house was dim, with perhaps only one light in the place, and that a dullish, watery fluorescent light.

I had left my bookbag on the floor, probably strewn with a lot of other stuff that wasn't mine, like blankets. I now came back to my bookbag to discover that my laptop was missing from it.

There were a bunch of kids in the house. They were all pre-teens, maybe not even 10 years old. I don't think I ever actually saw them. But I was pretty sure they had stolen my computer.

I ran all through the house in panic. I was looking for my mom, who was apparently in charge of the kids or who had done something like take them into her house out of kindness. I figured my mom could make the kids give me my computer back.

But I was also looking through some other backpacks that were lying on the floor, strewn in with a bunch of other stuff, like blankets. I thought I might just find my laptop and take it back.

I was really angry now. I was running at an unbelievable speed. I could tell it was lightning and thundering outside.

I wondered what would happen if I beat up the little kids. But I figured it would be no use. I wouldn't get my laptop back through violence.

I also wondered if there were some kind of buzzer device on it, like for car keys, where you can press a button and make your laptop buzz until you locate it. Or a device where you could track where your laptop was through GPS to catch the people who stole it. But I knew I hadn't gotten any features like that.

I ran through a bunch of junk and overturned furniture. I was now back at the front of the house. I was in a little, dark area near the front door.

Near me, my mom's ex-boyfriend J was working at a desk underneath a half-toppled mattress. He told me he understood my frustration.

I may have been standing on another mattress or between a could of half-standing mattresses. I said, "It's not the expense of the computer so much as--" I started shouting, "I had all my writing on that thing! How am I supposed to get all my writing back?!"

Dream #2

I was walking along a sidewalk at night. The sky was dark blue. I felt like I was in some country area, but I must have been in a big city, because there were lights around me like on a big, Fifth Avenue building.

I walked up to a huge SUV limo from behind. I then walked alongside its driver's side. The SUV limo had a light brown or dark beige color, with glitter-like flecks in it. Its windows looked weird: slim, long, and completely black and seamless. The SUV also seemed to have no doors.

I felt nervous all of the sudden. I had a feeling that some law or authority figure was going to try to get me in trouble for being near the SUV.

But I also had a feeling that I was here for a meeting, and that some high-up work associates of mine were in or near this SUV.

I was now with one of these associates, whom I could not see (I also have no idea who it would be). We walked back toward the back of the SUV.

As we did, one of the windows opened, revealing my old boss and friend E inside. I said, in a happy, "cool dude" kind of voice, "Hey! E!" I immediately felt I shouldn't have been so easygoing, that I should have shown him some respect, because he was so rich now.

My work-associate and I were now both standing before something I can't quite get, logistically. It was like the side of the SUV, but it was also like the inside of a building.

E was inside. He pointed out a couple of small, cubby-hole-looking things. He said these were rooms. One was for him, and one was for his wife (who sat in an SUV seat, only a couple feet away from E).

E then displayed a chest full of amenities he had been given by this "hotel." The chest looked like an entire drug store. There was so much stuff. But E seemed to be singling out only two trial-size tubes of toothpaste. I also seemed to be impressed that this "hotel" would give you trial-size tubes of toothpaste.

I was in a car with my mom and possibly a couple other family members. I feel like for some of the time I was in the backseat, while for some of time time I was in the front passenger seat.

We were driving up toward a laundromat in a busyish, urban part of town. At the intersection we turned left.

Either my mom or I may have been on the phone with my cousin. He is a soldier (in waking life) and he was coming home for a break. My mom and I were going to meet him at some restaurant.

But my cousin said (I never heard him speak in the dream) something that made me think he was too tired to come to a restaurant all the way out here.

I told my mom, "We can't ask this of him. Let's try to go to a closer restaurant."

We were now driving along a hill's crest in some semi-suburban, semi-mountainy area. My mom now intended to take us to some Times Square-ish restaurant. I think it was a game-themed place.

I either told my mom or I thought that my mom should not be taking us to such an expensive place. My mom was having money troubles. I thought she should be saving her money. Any cheaper restaurant would be fine where we could all sit down and catch up.

I was in a clothing store with one or a few women. The store lighting and the carpet were kind of grey. The clothing racks were stuffed. One woman had a grocery cart with her, full of clothes.

I was picking out clothes, women's clothes, too, apparently. I had found a girls' fleece jacket that I liked. It was maroon with tiny, green dots. I put it in the cart.

Now the other women were here. We might have been planning to leave. I looked in the cart and saw that the jacket was now grey or beige. I told everybody to wait, that I had put the wrong jacket in the cart.

I lfound another maroon jacket, but it was way too big for me. I looked at the beige or grey fleece again. It was definitely small enough for me. But I wanted maroon. Now I saw that the jacket was reversible.

Some of us were now going to try on clothes. There were two pretty girls who wanted me to try on clothes with them. I went with one of the girls. I hoped the other girl wouldn't be sad that I didn't go with her.

But now the first girl led me to a room like a bathroom. She opened the door, revealing a bathtub. The other girl was inside, taking a bath. I now realized we were all going to "try on clothes," I.e. take a bath, together.

I was suddenly on a bed in a bedroom that might also have been a cafe or a restaurant like a nice pizzeria. There were a couple women standing around the bed.

One of the women talked about being something like a ghost hunter. I asked her some detail about a time something came out of the bed. It had risen up like a huge ghost.

I asked the woman, "Did you grab onto it?" But the woman didn't want to talk about it.

Somehow, from this woman or the other woman, I'd gotten the understanding that the woman had been carried down through the bed and into a place like hell. It had been terrible, and the woman didn't like to remember it.

I now saw one of the women distinctly. She looked like a character from a story of mine. She wore a pink and black striped shirt, a tie, and a black trenchcoat. She had spiky, red hair. She also had a weird necklace of something like Christmas "snow" cotton around her neck.

I walked (backwards?) with her toward the front of the store, which was now definitely a cafe. I sat down on the couch. I felt like a little child. I was really attracted to the woman. But I also felt like I wanted her to be my mother.

Now another woman sat on the couch beside me. She was really attractive. She might have been about 10 years older than I.

She said, in a motherly way, that I should refill my coffee. She said she was going to get some more, too. I should go with her.

I felt bad for leaving the other girl. So I hesitated. But the other girl told me to go. So I went.

As we stood in line, I looked at some chocolate-white-swirled muffins. I was trying to explain some episode of Friends to the woman. I thought it would make me look cool, even though I never watch Friends.

I kept seeing an image of Chandler. I kept trying to remember the funny thing I wanted to talk about.

But now suddenly I saw, as if I were in it, an early episode of the Simpsons. Bart and Lisa were very young. They were home alone, taking care of Maggie.

Lisa realized something. That made the cartoon change to an even earlier episode. The characters were extremely crudely drawn. Maggie had Maggie's body but something like the (crudely drawn) head of Marzipan from Strong Bad.

Lisa said to Maggie, "Hey little girl. But you're not a little girl. I'm a little girl. So that makes you a baby. It's like you're my and Bart's baby!"

Bart walked away. Lisa now said, "I wonder what it was like when I was a baby?"

Lisa now lay back and fell into a reverie. She woke up in a zebra-striped (???) baby swing.

A young non-animation couple lay asleep on the couch. The woman was dressed up like the Genie from I Dream of Genie. The man was dressed up like a strange adult version of Jariten from Urusei Yatsura.

The man stood up and lifted the baby out of the swing. The baby was now a boy, and I identified with him somehow, while still identifying him with Lisa.

The man held the boy close and said something like, "Hey, little guy. You and me are like pals, right?"

I got the feeling that the man and woman weren't the baby's mother and father, but were more like his/her babysitters or older siblings/cousins.

I was with three male friends who I don't really recognize. They all seemed to be about 10-15 years older than me, tallish, a little overweight, and wearing touristy t-shirts, shorts, baseball caps, and sunglasses.

We were in a small building that was kind of busy and full of people. We were planning to leave. But first I had to go to the bathroom.

The restroom was huge and full of people. It was kind of humid, a little dirty, and it smelled like urine. There was a big line, which annoyed me. But there were a lot of stalls, so everybody was moving fast.

At the head of the line were the only urinals -- three small, wide open urinals awkwardly placed on a small edge of wall. I got one of the urinals instead of a stall.

As I was using the urinal, I felt like something to my right was getting my pants leg a little wet. I looked to my right.

There was no urinal to my right, but another guy was using a small plastic grate in the floor. The grate was under some shelf or sink on the wall, so the guy had to aim weird to get the grate. It was splashing a little and hitting my pants leg.

The guy was tallish, well-groomed, and well-dressed. The guy looked at me in a mean way. I could see that he was mad I had been in line ahead of him, and that he'd decided he'd go before me no matter what, even if he had to use a grate in the floor.

I think that in the dream I finished in the bathroom and went somewhere else, possibly some small, white building in the woods. But I can't remember now.

This dream was not lucid.

I stood outside a two-story apartment complex at night. The aprtments were connected from the outside, not by an inside hallway.

I walked to a stairway up to the second floor. As I did, I thought about how lucky I had been to miss the rain. But, I thought, my mom would be going out in the rain tonight. So she would need an umbrella.

I ran on all fours along the balcony. It was now raining hard, maybe even thundering. I came to "my mom's apartment." The door was closed, but I kept rushing at it, unaware. I suddenly got a hold of myself and pulled back.

My mom stood to my right, outside the door. She may have had a bunch of stuff all around her, like a mattress, blankets, etc.

I now saw a weird picture book about a baby Disney character (Goofy, though I called him Pluto) in a diaper. "Pluto" had been trnasformed into a baby and was being taken care of by Goofy (who really was Goofy).

I stood out on a streetcorner in a clean, desolate area of town at night. I got a call on my phone, which was an old cell phone.

I avoided answering the call, because I was trying to avoid certain people. But I looked at the phone and saw the caller was "Bomb." I thought Bomb was my brother, so I thought I'd answer the phone. But I then thought that I could be mistaken. So I let the phone ring.

I then wondered if my brother had called to tell me something bad had happened to my mom.

As I crossed the intersection, a big SUV headed at me from my left. It made a huge u-turn in the intersection and then in an area that looked like a culdesac. It felt like the SUV was trying to hit me. But then it was gone.

I was walking along the sidewalk and came to a curtain made of white sheets. Some shortish man held the sheets up for me.

I walked through. It was daytime, a little grey, in an area like a river on the back end of a southwestern city. I stood by a truck with a cop.
The cop was taking care of some final details, probably with an investigation of the site. I got in the truck. I was now holding a bunch of papers and accordion files in my lap.

The cop got in the truck. We drove down the road. Another cop waved at us. The first cop stopped the truck.

The second cop (dressed a in red flannel jacket) started talking with the first cop about some investigation being done on a mass murderer woman, who had possibly killed all her family except her husband.

I now felt I was somehow related to this woman, and that she would be coming after me. I felt like a little kid.

We drove on a little further. It may have been night. We came up to an area littered with a bunch of household stuff, including a baby-sized mattress.

There was some relief for me in this scene. I may have felt like the woman had been caught, and that she wouldn't be trying to kill me after all.

Hi. I am new to this site. This is my first dream post here.

I was on the phone with either my mother or my aunt. My mom/aunt told me that my grandmother had died.

I felt bad that I hadn't been able to get back home to see my grandmother before she died. But it had happened so quickly, as such a surprise.

My mom/aunt told me that my grandmother had said something very nice about me before she died. I felt awful, thinking that I hadn't done enough to show my love for someone who loved me so much.

I may have started crying a lot.