Morning of June 12, 2017. Monday. I am walking through an unknown city in a commercial area, where there are a number of small stores to my left as I walk. It seems to be late morning. I seem to be on my own at first. I have an interest in looking around in a store and turn to enter a store I think I recognize. When I walk in though, I see it is a clothing store. “Whoops, wrong store,” I say as I soon turn around to leave. Another (unfamiliar) man who had been walking behind me also enters the store and turns around to leave when I do. It is almost as if he had been having the same thought orientation as I had and was simply following me as if I was “leading”, apparently also looking for whatever I am (even though we had not spoken and I am not even sure where I am going). I continue to walk, but only a short distance and into another store that has a different type of entrance as the previous. There is a large long checkout counter on my right and an interior wall to my left so that it seems almost like walking through a narrow hall. I continue towards the back and see that it is a large bookstore. I see a magazine that I find interest in after first noticing what I take to be an Omni magazine. When I pick it up and look through it, I see that it is a science-fiction comic book (in color) about dinosaurs and a group of men. I decide that I will buy it. I look in my wallet and I am somewhat surprised to find at least two one-hundred-dollar bills, a few fifty-dollar bills, and more. I illogically reason that my mother (who died in real life in 2002) had placed the money in my wallet. I have no memory that she had died even though I assume I am my present age. I then see another magazine I want. I look through it and find it interesting. It also has at least one story relating to dinosaurs but is seemingly for older readers as well as being thicker. It is supposed to come with a CD, but I decide I will ask at the checkout if they have it. Our youngest son appears to my right as I decide to buy one more thing. I see a few groups of Casper comic books to my left. There are about four different covers (different issues) in the groups. I ask my son if he wants one and he says yes and points to one in another area to the right, but I already have one I find interesting and inform him that it is also larger. It is a fifty-two pages “giant” edition. He seems happy. I go to the checkout and there is an unfamiliar cashier who is a female of perhaps fifty. She has gray hair. I remember to ask about the CD. However, when I look at the magazine, which is wrapped in (transparent) plastic, I see the CD is already there. I tell her that I had thought it would be in a jewel case attached to the cover. She looks at me with wary concern and asks if I had put anything on the CD (such as a computer virus, I assume) and I sarcastically ask her how I could have done that, asking her if I used the cover as a computer. Then I consider that technology might very well allow one to use a magazine cover as a computer, which I talk to her about for a very short time, but nothing negative commences and I remain cheerful. As I pay, holding my wallet open and taking out a fifty-dollar bill, I notice an unknown female on my right cheerfully looking at the hundred-dollar bills in my open wallet as I hold it up near the counter. It almost seems as if she never saw one before and, slightly wary, I put my wallet away. It turns out however, that she had not been looking at my wallet or even at me; perhaps something on the counter. This dream is a very good example of why dreams are nothing like stories. I am looking through a magazine, planning to ask the cashier where the cover CD is. The magazine is somehow then commercially wrapped, implying it always had been (thus I could not have been looking through it even though I was). I then tell the cashier that I thought it would be in a jewel case, which makes no sense as I said this spontaneously and had really not considered it in this manner. Then the cashier asks if I had “put something” on the CD. Obviously, being wrapped, I could not have, and even if I had, I am buying it, so whatever I might have put on it would only be in my possession and with no problem or concern for others. Additionally, my mother died in 2002, yet my son, born in 2007, is with me at his present age. My mother only ever lived in America and would not have had Australian money of such an amount to give me, thus making the setting itself ambiguous by location. Omni magazine stopped publication (in print) in Winter 1995. The Casper comic book, though new, was like one from around 1971. The threads of the fictional dream self always seem completely different each time and from many different timelines and temporary false memories.
Morning of May 10, 2017. Wednesday. This dream is meandering - with only a couple scenes that stand out that much. In one scene, my brother Earl (deceased in real life) is in a car in a parking lot (in an unknown area) with my sisters Carol and Marilyn (also both deceased in real life). It has a feeling of the 1960s even though I am possibly about my present age. There is some sort of situation with a six-pack of bottles, which may be apple wine (though this is not certain - the bottles are of a dark green tint). It seems that Earl had just bought them though is also going to be reselling them (or at least a few of them). I take the middle bottle out from the left from the carton in the back seat while I remain standing outside the right side of the car. It is only half full. I consider how odd it is for a store to be selling something that seems to have missing contents. I put it back. After opening another one, I take a small drink from the middle bottle on the right. For some reason, I take the six-pack of bottles to my car, which is also in the parking lot. My “car” is actually more like an oversized golf cart. I put the six-pack in the back seat. At one point, I am in my “car”. A very annoying young Filipino girl is present and wants me to drive her to a shopping mall on the other side of town. She gets in, but I am not certain that I will be driving that far. I consider that I will probably just let her out when I get to where I am supposedly going. I drive along, inside a large clothing store. I drive over some clothes that had been strewn across the floor. A young cashier comes to pick them up. She does not react to me having driven over them and it does not seem to matter that much. As I drive to the front door, my dream starts to fade. Driving over clothes is a type of dream sign; a carryover awareness that I had gone to sleep and am not wearing clothes in bed. The bottles are likely symbolism relating to circadian rhythms due to the one being half full, additionally being linked to the “time in a bottle” association. It also relates to the “water getting lower over time” waking symbolism which I have experienced continuously for over fifty years.
Good morning, everybody. Dream #1 I was at my great grandmother's house. My great grandma (who IWL passed away about two years ago) was sitting in an armchair near her front door. My sister sat at a footstool near the chair. There were other family members in the house, as if we were having a gathering or party of some kind. My great grandma was showing us photos from a big photo album she had. The photo album had black covers, and the pages were letter-size, clear plastic page sleeves, probably with a black "backing" set into each sleeve. Each page had one photograph, which was as big as a letter-size piece of paper. The photos were from my great grandfather's time of service in the Air Force. Apparently he had fought in World War II. My great grandma and/or my sister told how my great grandpa would send these photos home in letters. The letters would be kind of cheerful, not hinting at any danger my great grandpa was experiencing. My great grandma had put all these photos into a book and then had then captioned each one in the same kind of cheerful, breezy tone that my great grandpa had used in his letters. My great grandma now laughed. She said that, looking back on these photo captions, she was shocked at how naive and silly they sounded, and how they trivialized the hard experiences my great grandpa had had in the war. We all laughed. My sister took the book. She may have had the intention either of putting the book away or of showing us the pictures, but not reading any of the captions. I asked my sister, a little forcibly, if I could see the book. I wanted to read some of the captions aloud. After my great grandma's story, the captions seemed like the most interesting thing of all. I sat down on a footstool on the other side of the room from my sister. I looked through the pages. Some photos had captions on their bottom edges, typed in. Others had captions written on the backs of the photos, scrawled out in big letters with some purplish pencil. Others had a combination of typing and handwriting. I now started actually looking at the photos. I was stunned when I saw a photo of a jet fighter, like an F-4 or an F-16. The fighter was on the ground, and it was largely hidden from view by big vehicles like trucks, so I only saw the nose, cockpit, and two rectangular air intake valves on either side of the nose. I looked at the back side of the photograph. It said F-15 and something like "Flurry or Fury" or "Fluffy or Fury." The word "Fury" was then repeated. This was all typed, centered, at the top of the page, as if by an official agency. There was a little bit more official text, followed by a lot of scrawled out writing from my great grandma. I stuttered to my family, "This -- this -- must be one of the first uses of jet fighters in actual combat situations!" My great grandma nodded in affirmation. I then flipped through some more pages. One group of photos showed some kind of switchboard area. Women were working the switchboards. There was one photo with a woman with dark hair, in a 1940s style, curly, down to about her shoulders. The woman wore a uniform, but I don't remember if she wore a hat. She may have been wearing small, round eyeglasses. I said, again in surprise, that this was one of the first groups of women to be used for something like strategic or technological operations. Dream #2 I was walking into a really busy clothing store, coming in behind a big group of people. There were racks full of clothes as soon as we came in the doors. The people in front of me kind of filtered out to different areas of the store. A little girl in a cheerful-patterned, red and white dress followed the people. I basically went to some set of clothes racks with panties on display. There were some other people there. Two were a couple, a young man and a young woman. They both looked kind of well-off. I was afraid they would think I was a pervert for being here. I also worried whether the parents of the little girl I'd seen would think I was a pervert. Dream #3 A song. A guitar played a nice sounding, strumming melody with a solid, but relaxed rhythm. I took this to be the foreground music. Then another stringed instrument (???) Would come in occasionally and add a little riff that sounded a bit like that "Brazil" song from the movie... um... Brazil, by Terry Gilliam.
Good morning, everybody. Dream #1 I was in a cafe that looked more like a small deli. The space was really tight, although the store seemed to extend pretty far back. There was one narrow area that tiered up a meter or so to a narrow platform. Then there were stairsteps down to a very narrow back area with a drinks display refrigerator. Beside the narrow platform there was some kind of buffet style sevice area, with a cash register at the end, near the front of the store. My friend R was in the cafe, sitting at some small table around a corner (?) at the back end of the platform area. I might have been surprised to meet him here, but I may also have been scheduled to meet him here. R may have been finished eating. He had at least gotten his food. I was kind of ashamed that I was so slow that I hadn't even picked up my food yet. I needed to get food. R said something like he'd wait for me to get my food and then leave. I was definitely thinking of a specific kind of food. I think desserts were the main thing served here. But I got an image in my head of a white cake box with a small turkey or whole cornish game hen in it. I looked at the drinks display case for a moment, then I went to the cashier. Space felt pretty weird. Sometimes I felt like I stood higher than the cashier. Other times I felt like I didn't feel like I could order, receive, or pay for my food. I felt like my ineptitude might have been annoying the cashier. But she was remaining polite and smiling the whole time. Dream #2 I was in a restaurant with my friend H. Another woman was following us. The woman was A, a girl who works at a cafe I go to all the time. The restaurant was apparently a fine restaurant. But it looked kind of like a big living room in an ordinary, suburban house, filled with dining tables. The windows were smallish and high up on the walls, giving the sense that this place was sunk down a little into the ground. Everything had a blue-grey light. The carpet may have been blue. The restaurant was full of people, mostly older people. H and I had been sitting at one table, but the girl A had followed us there. So now we'd been moved to another table. But A followed us there as well. Our table was a long table, maybe made for four or six people. A sat at a table for two which was connected with another table for two by a wooden, bench-style seat. That table was at right angles to ours, and A sat with her back to H and I. I may have seen all of this as if I were looking at it from outside my body. I may have been wearing a round-brimmed hat, like I wore in college. Upset that A was following us again, I decided to leave the restaurant. I managed to get H and I up and out of the restaurant at a time when A wasn't looking. We were gone, but my view remained in the restaurant. A waitress came up to serve A. The waitress was Asian and wore a black shirt and black oants. A asked the waitress who I was and where I was going. I probably now saw from A's point of view. She was walking along some portico area made of stone or concrete and brick. She kept passing all these clothing stores and other stores. Some of the stores were set into the brick wall. Others were on the opposite side, the open air side, of the portico, between the columns, apparently in thin air. Other stores were just signs standing up on polished metal poles. The stores were all also like apartments. The quality of the clothes in each store indicated the quality of the apartment. A (I still saw through her eyes) was looking through all these stores to find out which one indicated the apartment I lived in. As she did this, she had a thought-conversation with a woman who seemed to be an older, guiding figure in her life. I'd occasionally see the woman's face fading before A's view, like a ghostly double-exposure on a photo. A finally walked past one store which didn't look like a store at all. It actually looked like the sliding doors of an elevator, except made out of pale wood. The doors were also almost 3 meters tall. There were some words in gold or bronze lettering that gave the name of the store, some store for really good men's suits. This, A assumed, was where I lived, or that this was the clothing store that indicated what kind of apartment I live in. A was now convinced that I was some kind of billionaire. I don't think her plan was right away to follow me into this store, which now, at least, actually did lead to my apartment. I think she planned to come up with some way to blackmail me or trick me into being with her so she could have my money. But then A (I still seeing through her eyes) saw a man standing in the doorway of the store, as if the doors swung open instead of sliding open. The man was white, about average height, a little stocky, but muscly. He had close-shaved hair on his head and a little stubble on his face. He wore a brown or grey blazer, a green, button-up shirt, and blue jeans. The man may have been inviting A into the store. I think that A now figured that she would go into the store and try to find my apartment.
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