Olorin

Morphing Store: Me and some friends find an abandoned plaza with a broken window. W climb in and investigate. It looks like a party place, junkfood wrappers, liquor bottles, clothes, blankets, graffiti. This saddens me. I climb out and mean to board up the window but when I look back inside the place has morphed into a clean, freshly abandoned shop. We try to leave but a pack of angry dogs won't let us. I talk to the dogs to keep their attention while the others try sneak off.

Beggars: I am starving and filthy. I try sneak into a hotel to scrub up in the bathroom. I am caught and tossed. The guy who tossed me comes back and gives me a half pack of hotdogs. How nice. I hate hotdogs. I accept them. Beggars can't be choosers, right? Friends suddenly appear. We split the hotdogs between us. As eat the last one I look into the pack and see various sizes of maggots squirming around. I want to puke but I don't. I hold the food down by telling myself "at least the maggots weren't crawling through shit and trash". Horrible how a seemingly kind deed can turn out so hateful.

Air Attack: I lounge in the sun and three drones fly over. I give them the finger. Shortly after fighter planes, bombers, helicopters, and tanks roll in. I run. People follow. We hide behind a stump, as if that will conceal us from wildly attacking forces. I can't stand the sound of the bombs. I cover my ears and am filled with hatred but can do nothing. A soldier finds us, lays by the stump and tells us he will let the others escape as long as one of us surrenders. Of course I'm the one who surrenders. The others dash into the forest without so much as a thank you. Oh well. Moments later planes fly over and incinerate the woods. I am dragged along into the heart of the battle.

River Hill: A hillside river appears in many of my dreams. I never remember much about these dreams. Last night: I forge a new path to the river which lay frozen over in the middle of summer. I think I had to save what little water was left before it froze over completely. Others were involved. I remember horses. Nothing more.

I run an art academy for troubled kids. One boy of 15 is scarily talented and destined for fame. He promises the students that if he becomes a big artist he will come back and wisk them all away.

But in walks my cousin. She seduces the boy. He loses all interest in art. We all know he now will never amount to anything more than a sex slave for an old nympho lady. My cousin and the boy hop into a car and peel out of the academy.

The other students and I refuse to let her steal him. We can’t give chase because we have no vehicles. We do have a few little red toy jeeps. Standing in the yard it very slowly dawns that this whole situation could be a dream. I look at the students worried faces and decide that if this is a dream I will do everything in my lucid power to rescue our artist.

I take a plastic toy car and place the palms of my hands on the door. I slowly slide my hands in opposite directions along the vehicle and it lengthens. I smile and think, “we ARE dreaming”. I continue to enlarge the vehicle until a bunch of students can fit inside. I do the same to the second toy car. Another batch of students climb into it. They all leave.

But I have no vehicle. “I need a car.” I say to the dream. Another toy vehicle appears but it looks like a miniaturized child’s car bed instead of a battery operated toy car. It’ll do. I lengthen the toy just enough for me to sit on it. I think for it to move forward. It goes, jerkily at first, then smooths out the faster I go. I catch up to the other two vehicles. We see the artist far ahead of us pull into driveway.

We all pull into the drive and are met by a giant black bear that will not let us pass. The bear is chained up. The students will be safe. I super leap into a tree to see where my cousin went. She has turned into a crusty old farmer who drags the boy toward the barn. I look down and see the grass is cut into C shapes and they slide and shift into curvy patterns. They mean something but I don’t have time to decipher.

I jump down to the bear. It rears and is a good 4 feet higher than me. I leap up and hover before its face, place my hand on its forhead and sing, “All is well, all is well, all is well, to you I tell.” The bear calms and flops lazily onto the ground. Some kids stay with the bear. Others come to rescue the artist.

We get to the barn just in time to see a pick up truck speed across the field. The students run back for their car. I pick up a stick and hold it in both hands behind and across my butt. I sit on the stick and lift into the air as if on a swing. I fly along in this manner close behind the truck. The students in the car catch up. They want a flying swing as well. I tell them to hop on a stick and fly along. They do, but ride theirs as a witch will ride a broomstick.

We catch the old farmer and the boy going into a concert hall but they escape when security confronts us. I have no time for this and push them backwards. They blink out of existence with a strange bwooping sound like defeated video game baddies. We rush into the concert and split up to find the artist. I’m far too impatient to search so sit and whisper, “Find me.” The artist steps out of the crowd and sits by my side. I tell him this is a dream and I demand he tell me what he really is. He only ever gives me cryptic replies like, “I am somewhere.” Or “I am dark matter.” When he asks who I really am I tell him, “I am the Walrus.” We both laugh.

He never tells me who he is and eventually we get lost in the concert music.

Dream from Sept 21st
7 hours sleep

Baby Kennel: I go visit my niece in the hospital. Incubators with malformed and sick babies line the halls. The incubators are stacked three high. Some of the babies wake and stare at me. I should acknowledge them all but if I do I will never get to visit my niece. Perhaps on the way out I will talk with the babies. I get to my niece and my sister tells us the hospital has changed to a sick baby kennel.

Unplugged: Noise in my basement leads me down to it. The lights won’t come on. The whole basement is pitch black except for a single beam of light shining through the window onto a very old Kurt Cobain. He sits wearily in the old armchair. I ask why he is in my basement and he answers with songs from the unplugged album. I sit and sing with him.

Fat Gibson: At a gala and people gather around a celebrity. It's Mel Gibson. He is very fat, his belly literally looks as if a giant beach ball is stuffed inside it. The shirt has jumbled flags, stars, and stripes all over it. He acts like a pig.

Star Search: I spend too much time with my telescope trying to find an elusive comet in a night sky overly packed with stars.

Dreams for Sept 21st
7 hours sleep

Church Monster: A friend and I zip line over a very old street and to its end. The walk back is a very long one and I am missing a shoe. I walk carefully. We find an abandoned church and break into it. The zip liners who came behind us follow us into the church. Deep within we encounter an alien like creature that is white with compound eyes. It chases us out but I need to go back to try talk to the thing. The others won’t let me.

Grave Message: Continuation of above just not with the same dream characters? I'm barefoot in a weedy graveyard and looking for something. Two other people appear. They are barefoot as well. We find a tipped tomb stone nearly swallowed up by weeds. When it is cleaned off we stand around attempting to decipher the message. We take photos of it then leave. We walk extra carefully because the street is covered in broken glass.

Tenant: I rent out my extra bedroom to a twenty something year old guy. All is fine until night comes. The guy is afraid to sleep in a room by himself in the dark. He asks to sleep on the floor in my room. I shrug a "go ahead" and he camps out on my floor. I can't sleep. I suspect he might be up to no good.

Aprox 8 hours sleep. Way too much.