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Went to bed around 11PM.

Memory Storage
I'm with my girlfriend S. We're in a long hallway.
Seems like a hospital. Sterile. Clean.
There are bodies in metal drawers all the way up and down the hall.
I can see some feet sticking out.
S goes to one of the drawers and opens it.
There is a small paper cartoon person standing inside.
I feel some relief for finding this paper person.
Recalled on waking around 7AM.

Morning of July 17, 2015. Friday.



Zsuzsanna and I are either living at or “temporarily” staying in a mostly unfamiliar large apartment on what seems to be at least the second floor (though I am not aware of any backstory to this setting). It is possibly a variation on the King Street boarding house I have not been in or even directly seen since 1990. In this case, it still seems to be oriented south of the building (or north if it is relevant to our present house) and like an opened composite of Leonard’s room (the pinhead’s), my original L-shaped room, and the front (including the shared kitchen) being brought much closer to the back of the house. Other random characters make an appearance for no seeming reason or recent reflection or association, which includes: One of our landlords from Stadcor Street (Glenn), a cocaine user I knew in my first factory job (Greg R), a couple unremembered celebrities, and a couple relatives (though not correct in appearance). My sister Marilyn (April 25, 1942-Feburary 13, 2014) is also alive again and there is something about NCIS no longer being involved in an investigation. She briefly seems to be in the same “scene” with Ralph Waite (the actor from “The Waltons”; the television series), which is similar to a dream from long before they died.

This dream utilizes a folly I have encountered in other dreams; that is, confusion with dynamics relevant to the second storey of a building in implying we are also somehow at ground level at the same time. In this case, the confusion relates to the discovery of two bodies buried side by side in the “ground” just under the floorboards (again, somehow on the second floor) in what I believe is the kitchen. Finding two bodies is not the original intent. One of my dream’s (unknown) characters pulls up a couple loose floorboards for whatever reason and from there, moves some dirt and unexpectedly uncovers the bodies, which are fairly young and boy and girl. For some reason, this does not feel as macabre as it would in real life (ironic since some dreams augment minor concerns to ridiculous extremes). Over time, I go over to the windows, look down at the street (again, now from the second storey) and have minor concern about another male (our past landlord Glenn) who is approaching and possibly will be questioned on the deaths. The NCIS associations are not that organized or seemingly relevant at the time.

The investigation is slow and uneventful, and the two bodies (minimally skeletal, as the faces are almost discernible though not recognized) remain where they are, the mound of dirt like an elongated oval embankment around them. During this time, while I am sitting back in a chair, a young girl (about six) sleeps mostly on her stomach over me though is not my real-life youngest daughter (I assume, though sometimes dreams shift time elements dramatically). The sense of touch, weight, heat, and slight movement is augmented and lifelike. After this, there is a vague confrontation in another part of the room that I am not involved with, with random characters. When the girl eventually wakes, she walks about in the room before me and makes a sarcastic comment (unremembered) to an unknown character. At this point, she resembles Elizabeth Walton (a very young Kami Cotler), but aggressively out of character and saying the other character should “honor” me (as me being her fictional father). The other character seems somewhat perplexed and not fully developed as an in-dream persona. From here, my dream falls into the abstract as the girl’s hair seems “electrified” somehow and she seems almost goddess-like or at least like a well-defined tulpa (though her characteristics becoming mostly unfamiliar again).

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A part of this dream, as is typical, comes from something I only briefly glanced at for about a second the previous day - incidentally reading how Kami Cotler used to fall asleep on Ralph Waite’s lap during filming of “The Waltons”. Then I see and realize that Ralph Waite died around the same time as my sister on February 13, 2014 - which I had not focused that much on assuming I knew it at all prior to this point (I do not really watch the news that much and far less television than most people). This is in addition to how one much older dream somehow more clearly revealed my father’s death (April 26, 1901-February 14, 1978) several years in advance (as well as several other things that did not even exist at that time, including the “Jumpman” computer game and even the same music used as its theme). I always felt in the back of my mind that this sister would somehow die on the same date (not necessarily the same year) as my father. This was before she was the one to tell me (in the middle of the night) that my father had just died. However, from my perspective (in Australia, related to the time difference) she did die on February 14th when looked at that way (which I cannot help doing). Not only that, the last episode of Season 11 of NCIS (“Honor Thy Father”) was apparently a tribute to Ralph Waite, who sometimes played Jackson Gibbs. Sometimes the layered intricacies of a particular dream tend to seriously puzzle me.

How deep does this go…Ralph Waite may additionally be a play on “wait” and Kami Cotler a play on “cot” (cot/crib/youth) and even “Waltons” may be a play on “walled in” as with one humor magazine title I saw and distinctly still remember from when I was thirteen (No. 114 of “Cracked Mazagine” - spelled as such - from January 1974). (Additional note to self; there was a memory slip between “certain” and “thirteen” for whatever reason.) On the cover, Ralph Waite is standing directly below the word “Home”. Additionally, the setting itself (concerning the imagery of the first body uncovered) was very similar to the first panel of a horror/ghost comic book story I saw years ago (possibly from around the same week or time period as the Waltons satire), which I have yet to recover in my research. Finally, the cot/crib reference is related to the fact that the dismantling (or selling) of a cot or crib accurately foreshadowed my sister’s death (and is a known precognitive metaphor for an upcoming death).

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Despite the curious recurring ambiguity of a setting implied to somehow be on the first floor and the second floor at the same time, this is relevant to how the presumed corpses, buried under the floorboards of the second floor, is a subliminal distorted perception of my sleeping body (a dream sign of the first level) and Zsuzsanna’s, who is sleeping with me at the time.

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Recall problems this night. I remember only bodies lying on a coach in a weird sotrage room, getting teleported to Xen borderworld from Half-Life.

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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I’m in a bus with my son filled with students from hismiddle school, but they look like high school students. It is at least 3:30P.M.,and the bus is driving south on Lamar Blvd. near Shoal Creek. We pass a building/housethat is on fire on the 2[/SIZE][SIZE=2]nd[/SIZE][SIZE=3] floor and I remark that it is still onfire. I believe I had seen it, perhaps passed by it, earlier in the dream, butthis may be a false memory. We continue along the road and I begin talking witha girl in front of me, and then I have some words for a nearby boy. I can’tremember what I said to the girl but I told the boy something in a very frankway, possibly something hurtful. I even thought about why I was saying what Isaid in a mean way, yet decided to continue saying it. The boy got up, cried,and wandered off. He was skinny, had glasses, and sort of wavy dark hair. Thegirl, who turned out to be a cheerleader, got mad at me and said, “Thanks a lot!He was one of the nice ones!” and she left.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Just remembered when I sat down on the bus with my son hestarted talking to a cheerleader and I was impressed he was talking to such apretty girl so casually, and comfortably, and he wasn’t awkward or shy. She wasreplying to him and he told her that she was, “…such a dumb bitch.” And she wasjust “really dumb.” I was now equally impressed and dumbfounded that he wouldsay this to her face, such a pretty and nice-sounding girl. I never got todwell on this in the dream.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Somehow we ended up in a flat-bottomed ferry-boat on theriver in Austin, which was bigger than usual. It was operated by a hefty, shortblack lady, who turned out to be Nell Carter. She had made her home on the boatand was using it to ferry people across the river, which somehow seemed a lotwider than normal. Outside the boathouse, on the aft deck, was a shallow pool,or fountain. The interior of the boathouse had chairs, plants, cabinets, andmap drawers along the walls.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]We cruised around on the boat for some time, taking considerabletime to get from one side of the river to the other. I recall chasing mydaughter around the boat, inside and out. She was younger in the dream,perhaps 2 or 3 years old, but Iperceived her as being 10 months old or so, and capable of decent speech. Myson was not aboard. After catching up to her (still chasing) I was talking withher and she asked me, “Why did we stay in the overflow annex for Aquafest for10 months?” I started to reply and then remembered she wasn’t alive back then.How could she know about that? We had indeed lived in the annex for 10 months,when I was a kid, but I didn’t even remember it because I had been little. Iremarked to the people in the room, “She’s right, but how could she know that?”(these are all false memories) I decidedit was important to look through the map drawers and found some maps thatseemed significant, and Nell Carter thought so also. Another person on the boatwas also looking at the maps and seemed worried about what they meant.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Dream-shift happens here.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Suddenly we were interrupted by a gang of mean men. Therewere skinny white guys and very large black guys, all wearing menacing leatherwith points and spikes. We (the group I was in) all picked up knives thatseemed to be lying around on the floor and prepared to defend ourselves. Thebad guys had knives also, and weren’t afraid to use them. We started facing offagainst different people and I took out a skinny guy and then another mid-sizedguy, and then I was left facing the giant black thug all by myself. He pulledout a knife that was more machete than anything, shiny and sharp. He tended to move stereotypically slow, and Inoticed I was wielding a heavy-handled 5” knife that had a nice heft to it. Ithrew the knife at him and it stuck in his chest, deep, but not completelyincapacitating. It slowed him a little, and as I was backing up from him Ipulled another knife out of the back of a slain thug that was lying on the groundnext to me. I prepared to fight, but I was clearly outmatched. He wielded hisbig knife and I had my little four or five inch knife, which made me feel likeI was about to die. Somehow, despite its size, I used the knife to block acouple of his attacks, and I finally stabbed him around the collar bone.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Though a decent wound it still did not stop him. I backedaway and noticed some gay male cheerleaders were part of the fray, and they wereclearly on the side of the bad guys with murderous intent, though it was likethey were infected with the urge to kill rather than being inherently bad. Theywere on a hill, one holding the hands of the other, keeping the lower guy fromsliding down the hill. I stabbed the upper cheerleader in the back of the neckand they both went down. They were still smiling, and doing “gay” cheers andwere clearly affected in the head, possibly by the zombie virus. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Stabbing the cheerleader was a weird sensation. Pushing theknife into his neck didn’t feel like I thought it should, slightly yielding yetmy knife didn’t seem to go in as far as I felt it should.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Just remembered I slit a couple throats during the fracas. The first throat I cut didn’t bleed like I hadhoped it would and I had to stab that person with a little more force. Thesecond person I grabbed and turned to face away from me so I could slit theirthroat properly. I drew my knife across their neck and blood gushed in asatisfying manner.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Now I had to face the big black thug one more time. I’m notclear if I stabbed him or threw another knife into his chest, but the knifewent in pretty deep, and he seemed to be bleeding from his neck, and possiblyhis mouth. He stopped, looked down and pulled out the knife, dribbled out someblood, turned around and just walked out. He was unhappy, hurt, seriouslybleeding, and he had endured enough.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I began searching through the knives left on the ground andfound a few folding knives and some cleavers with handles that covered aquarter of the blade. Knives were everywhere, the battle between groups havingbeen quite intense. Out of nowhere Oprah Winfrey shows up and starts lookingover the knives on the floor. She tells us we had good taste in knives and ifshe ever needed any cutlery she would come to us.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This was such a weird dream, so odd that punks, gaycheerleaders, and massive thugs all were focused on the same killing task. Tome, it had felt as if all the bad guys were infected by some malicious virusthat turned regular people into homicidal maniacs. Additionally, all thecharacters were stereotypical in action. The gay cheerleaders were flamboyant,the skinny punks seemed incompetent, and the big black thug was very strong butmoved slower than I could.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Oh, and the soundtrack to my dream was a song by DrowningPool, called Bodies (“Let the bodies hit the floor!”) Very appropriate.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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