Recent DJ Posts

Jamie dreams

First dream I think I was making out with her, only i don't think I was me... hmm.


Second dream was a FA, I was looking at a wall and I saw writing from Jamie that said, "I've loved you." Good to hear.

Crazy vivid dream

Started out with I was in a big apartment building and ran into Jaas and Haley from didsbury... Haley had a black eye. I just sort of passed and waved at them.

Later I was with a group of people and i forget a sequence of events.. but I trapped some bad guy inside a piece of paper. don't really understand it myself but i did. Dream logic i guess.

Next part I'm going through a building like a motel. but it looks under construction and a bunch of homeless looking people are there. I'm handed a key to my room and I go through hallways made of plywood. My room doesn't even lock and it's also a thin door made of ply wood. I decide not to stay in it. I get back with the group of people. I somehow let the guy out of the piece of paper. I'm hiding in parts of the room and he starts killing people with a buzz saw. I get behind him and perform a chokehold on him. I hold him there for quite some time and he looks passed out. He gets up right after i let him go and i leave the room with a bunch of people...

non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening


There is a new Bond movie, within the Daniel Craig 007 universe, but only with secondary characters. Judi Dench is M again which I love but I am so disappointed that Daniel Craig is not in the movie that I curse it.

With Zilla in some deserted place that looks like under a bridge with hideouts. We are supposedly passing by quickly and discreetly, trying to stay safe in an unsafe area, but we spot a couple of bad looking fellas taking an interest in us. She decides we go around them instead of heading straight, to confuse them. But in the meantime we lose sight of them and she says in panic that they are after us. She locks herself in one of a couple little rooms or compartments that exist under this bridge. She didn't say a word but I think she expects me to hide in the next one. But the other one's door is stuck and I just entrap myself there. The two men just appear behind me and they make dirty comments and look at me with bad intentions. I tell them they have to fight me first. Only one fights me, as they think he alone can take me down, but soon I am kicking him hard on the ground. I have steel reinforced boots so he is in deep pain. Then the other guy threatens me with death and he calls out for a whole bunch of guys as back ups. They manage to restrain me and make me their prisoner to torture me a bit psychologically before killing me. One of them is actually a nice guy but kinda stupid and the others take advantage of them. I am trying to bond with him to see if he helps me. One day there is a big kerfuffle between them and I have one chance to run away, but a Chinese dude spots me reaching for the door and tries to kill me with darts. I defend myself with something I use as shield, but I still get hit by a few and feel the pain. I jump a window and realize I was on a train. I find myself at a railroad passage where lots of cops and locals are gathered because people are protesting a construction company destroying some riverbed nearby. They are wrecking a natural protected ecosystem with the support of the municipality and people are outraged. I mingle with them but anyway, the train with the bad guys is long gone.

Now this one guy in my dream was pissing me off. He had some canisters with him that had some kind of power, which he stole from the people. He was running away with them. These canisters looked like the ones from the MMO Star Wars Galaxies, missle packs. He had three of them. I finally cornered the guy at the edge of a cliff. The cliff ledge jutted out like a peninsula with the sheer dropoff on each side. This guy was so desparate to get away that in a last attempt he grabbed the canisters and dove off the side, falling to what should be his death. Finally in my frustration I went lucid. Knowing I could fly, I dove off after him and flew down to him faster than he could fall and grabbed him. I telekinetically levitated the canisters back up to the top of the cliff, then proceeded to have fun with the idoit. I flew up a ways, accelerating massively way faster than any man-made rocket could. Then I let the guy drop again. This time I caught him half way down, stopping him suddenly once more. I knew that the G-forces were really messing this guy up. Next I flew up into the stratosphere where the air got thin and we could see into space seeing the heavenly bodies. Then I just let him drop to burn up in the atmosphere on his decent.

I just remember it being really nice at that level in the stratosphere, the dream views (pun intended) were really awesome! I had some fun on my own now that I had gotten rid of this guy. I flew back down into the thick air of the troposphere for a moment, then back up again to perhaps 300 miles above where I was looking at the moon and stars before I woke up.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was with two friends, a man and a woman. We were walking into something like a high school gymnasium which had been done up for a flea-market-type sale.

Just inside the heavy metal doors was an aisle of tables, running from the left to the right, and extending across the width of the gymnasium. The tables were all divided into booths, and were filled with people selling things.

It seemed like my friends and I had gotten to the flea-market sale pretty early. There weren't many other customers around. Some of the vendors may still have been arranging their booths.

My male friend split off from my female friend and I. My female friend was a black woman, short, a bit overweight. She had short hair arranged in little spikes or braid-like twists.

We walked toward the back, right corner of the aisle. My friend stopped and looked at some shirts. They were long-sleeved shirts, warm for the winter, in kind of flat green and cream-white. I may have fondled a square, paper tag that may have said something about how the shirts were made of hemp-cloth.

My friend now stopped at a booth with hats on it. She picked up a blue denim hat with a short, round brim. She put it on and asked me how she looked. I thought she looked pretty cool.

I thought I'd fool around and try on a hat as well. But my friend chose a hat for me. She said I'd look good in a cowboy hat. The hat she gave me was huge, almost like a caricature of a cowboy hat. But both sides of the brim were also pinned to the crown of the hat -- so the hat kind of looked like a hat-taco.

I put it on anyway and looked at myself in a mirror on the back wall of the booth. I thought I looked like a complete goofball.

I think at this part I started to hear voices in my head. They sounded like the voice of Sherlock Holmes. I may have been reasoning something out, as if I were Sherlock Holmes.

Suddenly I was in a room. I was one of three children. But I wasn't in the body of whichever child I was.

The children were actually more like young adults. They were probably in their late teens and early twenties. There were two boys and one girl.

One of the boys was Sherlock Holmes. The girl was a really pretty, fair-skinned girl with kind of slim eyes and long, pale-brown hair. The kids all had the style and attitude of kids from the late 1970s.

The kids were all up in one of their bedrooms, which was a kind of small room up on a second or third floor of a mansion. They'd each alternately pace lazily around the room or lay down on the bed, roll around on it, etc.

The kids were all speaking with each other. Sherlock Holmes still seemed to be reasoning something out with himself. The girl was at least teasing Sherlock Holmes, if not the other boy. All three kids were lazy -- and they knew it. But the girl took a little bit more pleasure in teasing the boys for being lazy.

The girl had to leave. Then the two boys were together. But then one of the boys had to leave. The other boy was by himself.

During this time the boy had transformed from Sherlock Holmes into Lewis Carroll. As Sherlock Holmes, the boy had been just a regular boy, or young man, from the 1970s. As Lewis Carroll, something about him changed. He actually took on more of a late nineteenth century appearance.

But the boy was still lazy. He may have known that the girl had gone off and found a job. And the other boy may have at least gone looking for a job as well. But Sherlock/Lewis was still just sitting up in his room.

Sherlock/Lewis was thinking of what kind of excuse he'd give his parents (with whom he was still living) for not yet having found a job.

He thought he'd make up something about being a writer and needing his time to write. In my mind's eye I saw a huge, yellow pencil laying across the bed with the boy. I thought the writer excuse kind of made sense. After all, if this was Lewis Carroll, he was really a great writer.

But then Sherlock/Lewis, looking out the window, started thinking about what his dad would say about him. I could hear his dad's voice in his head. Eventually the dad's speech took over the narrative.

The dad, who was like Bill Loud in the show An American Family, was narrating a letter that he'd written to his wife. His wife was out in some foreign country, maybe France, taking care of some business.

The dad wrote his wife that he'd gone to visit the daughter at either the location of her new job or at her college campus. Either way, the daughter was in a new town. But this was a town where the dad and mom had met and fallen in love. So the dad was happy to go back there.

There was a view of some part of a campus, I think, in this town. There were a lot of trees. But it was winter, and the trees were all leafless. The branches struck me as being very black.

The father wrote/narrated a very sentimental statement that began with him sighing, "Ah!, the memories..."

Now there was a strange view of painty-looking or animated-looking flowers, huge, five-petalled, yellow flowers, blossoming on the barren branches. The father made some kind of statement about the first experience of love between him and his wife, and how it was as delicate as trembling petals.

Dream #2

I was watching a documentary. There was a black and white photograph of two girls from a wealthy Italian family. The girls were sitting on the left rim of the pool for a big fountain, which was out on a gravel driveway leading up to the family's huge mansion.

The photo was really blotchy. It was apparently taken in the 1940s, though the girls seemed to me to look more like they were from the 1970s, or even the present.

The girls both had really long hair, which was very straight and plain. And the girls wore very short denim shorts, or denim coveralls with very short leggings. Both girls had a skinny look about them, though neither really was skinny. They both looked a little dull and overly spoiled.

The view now closed in on the girl sitting higher up on the rim. This girl was the older sister. A narrator now explained that the older sister had a disease, which had made her life very tragic.

As the narrator continued, the view now became active and in color. The view had shifted away from the fountain and onto the gravel driveway. It was the present. But things at this estate were pretty much the same as they had been in the 1940s.

There were a few old men standing out by some junk in the driveway. It looked like it may have been a ticket booth and some other equipment related to an old-time carnival.

The narrator's speech had continued. The narrator had explained that the girl had never been particularly pretty. But as she reached her seventeenth year, she'd begun to blossom into a more beautiful girl.

But at this time, the girl was suddenly struck by a disease which was like a cancer, eating away at her face. The disease was combatted once, and the girl was okay. But then the disease came back again and again, until a few years later, the girl's face was completely ravaged.

One of the men in the gravel driveway now walked over to the right side of the road. There was a big structure there. It was made of concrete, and it was as tall as the man. It was shaped like the plastic head of a baby doll. And I supposed that the face of this giant, concrete baby doll was turned away from me, so that I only saw the back of the head.

The back of the head, though, had a huge chunk smashed right out of its center. The chunk revealed , through a thick, ragged window of concrete-white, pebbly casing, the hollowness of the doll's head.

I assmumed that there was probably a similar smashing in on the front side of this gigantic baby doll's head. And I assumed that this head was a metaphor for the 1940s girl's head. I realized that this was what the disease had done to the woman.

Dream #3

Some anime. The main bad guy was a beautiful-man kind of figure: skinny, elegant, with long, purple hair. He was a very sinister kind of character.

But it turned out that the reason the bad guy had been causing all the trouble was because somebody had taken his favorite teddy bear away from him. He assumed the good guys had done it. So he was causing all kinds of trouble for them.

I thought this was a really disappointing reason for a bad guy to be bad. It cheapened the whole story. I couldn't even figure out why good guys would fight this bad guy at all.

There was a dream that kept repeating so I thought I was dreaming because I thought that I just saw it. So there was this one guy who was supposed to run up the hill and kick my ass, but since I was lucid this time, he didn't. I threw a bag over his head and went ninja on his ass non-stop. But he still didn't die.

2/16-17. 1130. At Universal Studios. There’s a light rain and we’re deciding on getting on the backlot tour tram

LotR. I’m with Frodo and Sam. Sam, Pippin, and I have to leave so start to go. Head down a hallway, bt then go back to room with Frodo in it. Merry’s there. I tell Merry to take care of Frodo. I give some sort of speech telling Merry how important Frodo is. “Like a mare, or garden” is all I can remember. Leave and go out and I’m at a school. There’s a horse there and I jump on it, but then it’s a girl, wearing a blue shirt. Ride her across a lawn area. I see Dave and so stop and get off. Praise girl with, “Good girl” and she gets mad. Then mad at Dave because she gave him many chances to ask her out, but now is with Richard. Girl is Carrie(?) but looks nothing like her

725. Doing a ride along with Station 1. Xxxx is captain. We’re getting the rig ready for the shift to start. Xxxxp seems to be mad at me for some reason and tell me to pull a hose, “Yes, sir!” I pull a preconnect and flow some water to make sure it’s working. Have to restabilize myself because of the pressure. Xxxx puts on and takes off a silver HazMat suit. After taking it off, I check it out and it seems like it neoprene, like a wetsuit. Rig is now a black truck. Engineer is playing some music loud and the chief(?) comes out and has him turn it down. Xxxx tells him to turn it down more. Then we head over to a large garage that’s for storage. Rig now looks like Jim’s blue and white Ford. Then head out, but I’m not on rig

835. Mira Loma? Driving and go under a freeway. I was supposed to get on(?) and miss it, so go to the next street and pull down it to turn around. See some cops pass by on the other side after I get turned around. Matt Xxxxxxx is a bad guy, but the cop is Matt as well. Cop shoots bad guy and hits him. Bad guy then runs away toward the freeway and up the embankment. I hop a fence to go after bad guy, and find where bad guys hide out. Freeway is no longer there, but the hide out looks kind of like a bus stop/ train stop