1. It's nighttime. I'm sitting around drinking something with a friend, when suddenly I start to feel pretty bad. The dreamview switches to a close-up of my digestive tract, which shows itself to be swollen and red and close to exploding. This continues for an uncomfortable time, showing different organs, when the view suddenly goes third-person. My body explodes, splattering blood on the dream "camera" and causing an elderly couple to comment on my rudeness. 2. My brother, my roommate, and I are chasing the girls who live at my research station around the halls. Eventually they start to fight back, and I do parkour down the (IRL nonexistent) basement stairwell to hide from them.
In this dream I am living back at my mom and dad's house,I am in my old bedroom and it is the morning of my birthday. My dad and brother wake me up like it's the first day of school. Dad says that it is his last day off before he has to go back to work (even though he is retired in real life). For some reasons he says this twice. My brother give me some music CDs and three DVD versions of the same movie, which is a back to school comedy. He puts one of the DVDs on and turns the volume up loud to wake me up. They leave and I groggily get up and notice, against one of the walls in my room, neatly wrapped presents are stacked in a big pile to the ceiling. I try to turn off the t.v my but instead of shutting it off, the power button only turns the volume up louder. None of the buttons on the t.v seem to work properly and I am tired and frustrated but I eventually figure out to turn off the DVD player instead. Somehow, this fixes the t.v. and I can finally turn it off. I crawl back into bed and have a dream with a dream where the cartoon character Little Bear and his father are walking through a forest. They are both carring hunting rifles and dressed in hunting vests and hats. They talk about morality and ethics in mainstream religion (specifically Christianity, I think) but from a "bear's point of view" until they come upon a clearing and see a human male chopping down a large, healthy looking tree. Father Bear shoots the man dead and Little Bear makes a remark about all the blood. Father Bear tells his son (cub?) that the killing was justified on religious grounds because the man was defiling the forest, or something like that. I wake up from the dream within a dream finally get out of bed. I look out the window and see the neighbour (with whom my father has a real life feud) tearing up the front lawn with his car. He is driving in big circles and leaving deep muddy marks. I get dressed and head outside. The neighbour and his car are gone, but the lawn is still ruined. My dad is outside standing in front of three fold out table upon which are many short sleeved t-shirts. The make and style of the shirts are all the same, but each shirt is a different colour. The entire spectrum of the rainbow is represented. My dad's attention is drawn to the shirts, though he does acknowledge me when I first come outside, but he doesn't seem to notice the sorry state of our front lawn. Dad starts to talk to me about something but I can no longer remember what and I woke up soon afterwards anyway.
Original dream dated July 04, 2008: Dreamed that Reese and I were trying to get home from an airport called Mariana airport, and we couldn't. Mom was supposed to pick us up, but never showed up, so we took the bus instead. Somewhere along the line, it turned into Reese driving her jeep, and we got stuck in traffic on the Interstate. It turned out that Mom had never planned on picking us up and there had been a miscommunication. For some reason, we lived in a 2-story white house. I had a dream that my pet rabbit had a heart attack and was dying, so I wrapped her up in a purple towel and cried while she groomed my head. Original dream dated July 05, 2008: I had a dream that I was working on rules for a D20 game, and they turned into rules for the world... Somewhere along the way, we got invaded by alien wasps that climbed up your nose and replaced your brain, stealing your soul. It happened to me, and I wasn't technically supposed to get another 'chance' at working things out in the world, but for some reason, I was given one. I had to abide by the rules I'd written, though, which stated that if you lost then it would rain forever and everything would be covered by 500 feet of soil over the next few thousand years. I escaped from the original area (which was quite dangerous) with some friends of mine, including a tall brown-haired man. We got to a coffee shop and tried to figure out what to do. We were sort of stuck in there, at least one of us was covered in blood, and I realized that we were all doomed unless I recovered the book I'd been working on and revised the rule set. The brown haired guy offered to run through the rain for several miles to get it, but it was very dangerous out there and there were zombies, and I argued that if he died it was permanent but I could revive myself... the dream left off there.
There is an old farmhouse and barn in front of me. I can see an older couple working in field out back. I am not sure which, but the couple is either just really old fashioned pioneers or menonites. There is a doorless shed by the east side of the house and I wandered into it. Along with an assortment of old fashioned farming implements, homemade brooms line the far wall. I ask the old mennonite man if I can buy one when he comes over to see what I am doing tresspassing in his shed. Instead I am hired (or forced?) to become a live-in-maid to keep the farmhouse clean. The mennonite couple disappear and a new couple appear as owners of the farmhouse. They are still older, but they look like they come from the Victorian era. I cannot think of anyone whom the lady of the house (the Mistress) looks like, but the man of the house (the Master) looked very much like Christopher Walken. The outside of the farmhouse looked the same, as did the barn, but the doorless shed disappeared and a long covered porch now wrapped itself around the east side of the house. The inside of the house was still mainly Victorian/Edwardian era but seemed to have some seemingly out-of-place modernizations scattered randomly about. Though the house wasn't all that large, there was another maid who lived there as well. We usually worked together and while I was relatively pragmatic, the other maid was extremely superstitious and constantly tried to convince me that every creak, or misplaced object, was caused by ghosts. I did not believe in the ghosts theory and tired to argue that the house was old and prone to creaking and that objects get misplaced all the time, but the other maid would have none of it. The other maid and I were asked to clean out the sothern rooms of the farmhouse because the Master wanted to convert them into a variety store. It was at this time that I started to see unusal things happen, like curtains move when there was no breeze, electrical cords pull themselves from the wall, and doors open and close by themselves. In the main hall, drops of blood fell from the ceiling and pooled on the floor. No matter how many times the other maid and I cleaned up the blood, it always reappeared the next day. Most frustrating was the fact that the Master and Mistress of the house never experienced anything strange, nor saw the blood, and would dismiss our complaints as nonsense. I was now convinced that the house was haunted afterall, but was still not all that creeped out until the drops of blood from the ceiling became bloody bootprints that appeared decending the stairs and entering the southern rooms. At one point I was cleaning something in the main hall and heard footfalls on the stairs. I turned and saw not the Master as I was expecting, but the bloody bootprints. I quickly tried to duck into one of the adjacent rooms, but the double glass doors either locked of their own accord or jammed. I quickly spun around so that my back was pressed up against the glass doors and the lights in the hall began flickering. The temperature in the room dropped dramatically and I could see my breath. I was frozen in terror as I watched the bloody bootprints slowly and ominously stomp towards me. I cowered and shut my eyes, but just before they reached me, the sound of the footfalls disappeared, the room temperature returned to normal, and the lights stopped flickering. The glass doors behind me swung open and I made a hasty exit from the main hall and ran into the other maid, who saw everything from the other side of the glass doors. Not only did the other maid quit after that but the bloody bootprints following me around the house became a common occurance. While it did take me a while to get used to, I eventually figured out that if I made no attempt to run from the ghostly follower, or try to clean up the bloody mess, the ghost would soon leave and the bloody mess would eventually disappear on its own. I was standing in the southern room at one point, brainstorming ideas for the variety store, when I was summoned by the Master. I went to his private study in the north end of the house and when I got there, he lectured me on how no women in his household should leave the premises without a male escort. I realized at this time that I had never so much as stepped out onto the porch in all my time of working there as a maid, let alone leave the property. I got angry and shouted "There is my escort!" I pointed to the bloody bootprints that followed me into the room and the Master finally sees them for the first time, but says nothing. Almost immediately after the lecture, I began to see ghosts in and around the farmhouse. The first is a little boy in a blue coat and white shorts, playing with an orange ball, near the pond at the front of the house. One Sunday I am sitting with the Master and Mistress and their guests when I get up and go into the kitchen for something. When I return, there is an old man sitting in my seat. He looks exactly like the character Oscar Leroy from the show Corner Gas (baseball cap and all). I recognize him as a friend of the family in the dream and he starts telling me about how it is his birthday. I realize that the old man is a ghost and I exclaim outloud to the Master and Mistress that their friend is dead, but everyone in the room just looks at me like I am crazy. Some get angry because they think I am being disrespectful since they know that man I am talking about and that it is his birthday. I beg the Master to call the family of their friend but they wil not. The ghost of the old man gets up and asks me to follow him outside into the front yard. I do so, and the family and their guests follow me to see what I am up to, though I suspect it is just to observe me because they think I have lost my mind. The ghost of the old man tells me about how he died peacefully in his sleep, and as a hearse drives by in the distance, he points to the completed variety store at the southern end of the house and to says "Never stop writing down your ideas." The ghost then fades away. I walk over to the pond (though it looks more like a muddy pit at this moment) and stare quietly into the murky water. The Master comes over to me and finally says that he will get someone to call the family of his friend, to confirm his condition, because no one else yet believes that the old man is dead. The Mistress runs out of the house and proclaims that their friend is dead and that it was self-inflicted. While everyone reacts to the news of their friend's suicide, I walk away saying "He lied to me!" (about how the old man said he died). Later, the Master, Mistress and guests are sitting around talking about how strange it was that someone would want to kill themselves on their birthday, but no one seems particularily upset at the loss of thier friend. I am disturbed and upset at their apparent apathy. The dream ends there. The birthday-suicide thing is something that I had been ruminating about for a few days because I struggle with suicidal ideation as a result of clinical depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.
Night of November 20/Morning of November 21, 1976. Sunday. If you are easily disturbed, this is probably a good entry to give a miss. It is one of only a few of the more vivid nightmares I have had in my life - and probably relates to the physical changes during adolescence. (For example, dreams like “Silver Manta” and the first childhood “Haunted House” dream did not seem like an actual nightmare at all regardless of the scenario and emotions involved, but as inspiring adventures which I still have fond memories of.) A large spaceship lands in my front yard at Cubitis, near the end of the driveway and a few feet from the highway. I do not actually see any aliens in the dream at any point, though. Actually, the ship seems more like some sort of “factory”, with a maze-like assembly-line (except that it is “dis-assembly”, so to speak.) that goes all about the internal perimeter of the squarish “flying saucer”. What is vividly implied and shown from several angles (including from the side and from above) is with a first scene of a girl being carried (while lying on her side) down a conveyor belt (which is dotted sparsely with human blood and a few small scraps of clothes) within the spaceship. I am not sure who she is or where she came from. It reminds me of a miniature “car wash” to some extent (the part where she falls next may be vaguely related to the opening of “Land of the Lost”). She moves through a yellowish orange ribbon curtain into what looks like a chamber with an implied shallow well and there are robotic arms and such that seem to hurt her. Eventually I am aware she has been turned into “fuel” for the spacecraft, the body being shredded as through a high-tech food processor of sorts. This happens with several people, mostly adults. Actually, I am not sure how I am seeing this. It is as if I am there in my “orb” form, but also in my bed at the same time (though not fully lucid, only partially questioning the events). The dream seems to reset several times during the night and very early morning. I am on the belt at some points, trying to work out why my bed is moving, but I usually will myself back to where I had been and never go through any “terror” from my own perspective. As with most dreams throughout my life, even this dream had a layer of long-term precognition (which was actually the reason I started documenting dreams in the first place to try to work out the layers and “rules” if any, as it was so common). Several years later, I worked in a factory in Wisconsin and for the first time, was close in real life to very similar conveyor belts and (identical to the dream) vinyl (or vinyl-like) ribbon curtains at the end of a chemical wash for the metal parts. Around this same date years later, I took the place of a man (whose job was to simply place the metal sheets on a wooden shelf for a pallet as they came out on the belt) who had cut himself very badly on the hand (supposedly losing a finger from what one worker said though I am not one hundred percent sure now) and the blood (and a couple pieces of his white work glove) was still on the conveyor. I guess they did not want to lose any production time (relative to parts for Ford Taurus cars).
Morning of July 20, 1974. Saturday. Dream #: 2,770-01. Optimized 1 min 15 sec read. In the late morning, I develop a growing concern about a brown recluse spider being in my room in the Cubitis house. I go to the carport, intending to go into the backyard, considering it might be safer outside. As I walk, I look down and see the brown recluse "spider" embedded in the back of my right hand with minimal blood (eight small red spots in two clusters of four). My dream self sees it as a "spider" even though it is a capacitor with eight wire "legs" (four jutting from each end). I can vaguely make out random letters and numbers on the side of the "spider's" cylindrical body (but I do not recall the sequence). My sense of awe feels artificial: as if I am creating a scene for a movie. I sense its milky "venom" is not yet in my bloodstream. My dream fades before I go beyond the east end of the carport (that would otherwise lead to our backyard). Causation and Influences: Second-hand "dream interpretation" is impracticable. There are many reasons why. As a metacognitive dreamer, my dreams predominantly respond to my navigation of the dream state while in it. Here, there is a specific amalgam of two literal influences. They are both tied to somatosensory phasing from sleeping on my hand and the "buzzing" effect from lack of blood flow in this position. The first was my concern about a brown recluse spider being in my room in waking life. The second was minimally injuring my hand while tampering with the inside of a radio. The screwdriver also slipped, and capacitor gel squirted into my eye, creating my dream's illusory implication of a capacitor as a "spider" with "venom." There are additional influences, one relating to the "buzzing" (or tingling) from lack of blood flow as correlating with electricity and associations with neural energy (in navigating the dream state).
Updated 08-11-2021 at 05:59 PM by 1390
Recent Comments
