All DJ Entries

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a scientific laboratory. The floor I was on looked like the lobby for a nature center or a church. There were tall glass walls showing a clear day outside. The floors were some kind of deep-red stone, polished heavily. One other window to my left and about 5 meters away from me looked down, apparently, to a basement area, which was dark.

My great grandmother was going down into the basement area to test out some kind of atomic science device. It was like some kind of atomic particle beam ray. It could be used either for scientific purposes or as a weapon.

My great grandmother now walked into another room to my left and went down the stairs. I may have stood on the threshhold of the first room and the room with the stairs. A man and a woman stood with me, though they both stood in the first room. The woman was talking about how once a proton beam was set in motion, it would go into an orbit around the earth, destroying whatever came into its path. This could possibly lead to the destruction of the whole earth.

The man now said, "Hmm... maybe we should get ----- (something like Swami Sarasvati) to talk about that kind of stuff." The man was basically implying that the physics of the machine were basically like the elements of Hindu religion.

The woman said, "Or we could get ----- (some famous Western physicist)."

To make a joke, I thought I'd recommend getting the Play-Doh man to talk. I envisioned holding a Play-Doh ball in my hand and smashing it. This was basically to suggest the destruction of the world, but as a joke, apparently.

I made the hand gesture and said, "Or maybe we should get --," but I was suddenly interrupted by my great grandmother calling me from downstairs. She sounded pretty insistent, so I ran toward the stairs. I called out to the man and woman, still making the hand gesture, "Maybe we should get the Play-Doh man!"

The woman got my joke and said, "Play-Doh man. Oh...!" as if she were going to start laughing.

I now lay on my stomach before a staircase down to the basement. The staircase looked like in a suburban house, and it was bordered by a thin, wooden railing, like for a child's crib.

My great grandmother's voice came from below. She said, "I need you to go get the money. I can't do the project without it." But she also discussed how she needed me to go get the money to protect it from getting into some other people's hands. My grandmother told me that the money was in a place outside of my usual activities. I took this to mean it was in some mansion in a rich neighborhood in Georgia.

I asked my great grandmother how I could possibly get into these mansions. She told me that I wouldn't have as much trouble as I thought I would, and that I should be pretty honest about my aims with anybody I encountered.

There was now a tall, bald, black man in the room with me. He stood over by what looked like a kitchen counter with a bunch of appliances, boxed and unboxed, on it. But the devices were actually weapons and parts to the device that my great grandma was testing out.

The man made some kind of threatening statement, in a smirking way, about how he was going to destroy the whole project. I tackled him and pinned him to the floor. We were down beside a bed. I was on my knees, on the man's ribs. I had him pinned, and he couldn't move. But he didn't seem worried at all. He was still smirking.

He made some move where he was now on his back. He had better control of his arms, and he tried to make some weird move against me. But I managed to counter that move and get control of him.

Suddenly I was "my old self (?)," an old, white haired, German man who had been a Nazi. I had apparently tortured this man in the past.

I lifted the man up and carried him over toward the head of the bed. The walls were grey concrete, like in a basement. At the head of the bed was a single wooden pole, kind of thin. I lifted the man's head up and said, "You couldn't leave things alone, could you? You had to bring the old me back. Well, now I'll treat you like the old me treated you!"

I was going to slam the man's head down on the thin pole so that I pierced his brain through one of his eyes. But I was a little disgusted at the thought of this, and I either didn't do it or didn't see myself doing it.

I was myself again. Some series of events had taken place, the project was completed, and my great grandma was up out of the basement again. A few people were around, like family, meeting after the project. But I still didn't have the money.

I went to look for my great grandma to tell her I didn't have the money. I found her in her bedroom, apparently changing clothes. The bedroom was dim grey.

I called out, "Grandma? I couldn't find the money. I don't know where it is." This actually wasn't true. I was actually kind of too shy to go to the Georgia mansions to look for it.

My great grandma yelled, "Well I told you where it was! Go to a place outside your usual activity. You know what that is. And tell people exactly what you're doing!"

I felt terrible. I was too shy and afraid to do this. I figured I might fail entirely at getting this money. What would happen?

I was now in some kind of bedroom that looked like an exotic bedroom in an Arabian mansion, like in the movies. A bed stood atop a few marble steps, curtained on either side by thin, pink-orange drapes.

Before the bed stood a kind of pretty boy dressed as a girl. He had long, blonde-brown hair and he wore a yellow-green and black striped shirt and a denim mini-skirt. He was apparently Harry Potter.

Harry explained how I could get past my fear and take care of my mission. It took a few minutes before I realized that Harry was wearing a diaper under his mini-skirt. I started to vanish from the room, but I remained fixated on the fact that this transvestite boy was wearing a diaper.

Harry, all by himself, began dancing in a kind of wild but sexy way all around the huge bedroom. I now saw a view from below the floor, looking straight up Harry's skirt, at his diaper. The diaper seemed to be blue, like blue jeans.

I seemed to be sinking lowe and lower. I ended up on some kind of portico area with a group of students and a couple of male teachers. The students and teachers were all Latino and black. The students were a mix of boys and girls.

I somehow figured that since I'd failed at my task, there would be no Christmas for these children. The children, without mentioning me (I wasn't present), kind of sadly complained about this fact.

I felt terrible about this, but I thought there had to be some kind of magical way that Christmas could appear for these children. After all, Christmas is a magical holiday. Suddenly, slightly glowing objects began to fill the air. They were all supposed to be things like Christmas objects. But they were actually things like fast food items.

One of the boys, seeing these items, said, "Hey guys! Don't worry! We've got Christmas right here! Just eat one of these Christmas hamburgers out of the air!" The boy himself ate a Christmas hamgurger. One of his male friends did so as well.

The two boys were suddenly acting like they were drunk or stoned. The students were all walking to some educational site. One boy grabbed on to the arm of one of his teachers, a big, Latino man with long hair in a ponytail, as if the boy were the teacher's girlfriend. Another boy was at the back of the line, bouncing around and acting crazy.

Finally, as the group continued walking toward the educational site, the first boy woke frfom his stupor. He ran back to the second boy and warned him not to eat the hamburgers.

The school group was now of little, Japanese boys and girls. There were two male, Japanese teachers. I was now present with the group.

We were walking into a forest full of yellow-leafed trees. A couple of girls, as we walked into the forest, called out, "Kirei!"

I noticed that the scenery was getting all fuzzy, like a digitized video view getting more and more pixellated. I thought I'd comment on this to the teachers. But I didn't know whether, if I did this, I'd be breaking the Japanese customs of respectfulness.

We walked along a really muddy path. At some point, I had to push aside the stalks of a tall, tree-like shrub. One of the branches touched my face. It was all muddy. I just decided to let the stalks go and not worry about whether I was clearing a way for the students behind me. But just as I decided to do that, it turned out that we were past that area.

The teachers were now turning us around, but we were walking back on a path parallel to the path we had walked out on. This second path was flooded with water, which reflected the blue of the sky. I thought this would be kind of inconvenient. A horse was also standing in the water.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in an office with my boss and the head of our department, J. J made a comment about the conditions of our company. He then said, "Well, your boss will tell you more about that." J then walked out of the office, through a doorway that may possibly have been to a stairwell.

Only my boss and I were now left on the office floor. The space was kind of narrow. There was some kind of long counter or reception desk running along the area where my boss and I stood.

My boss stood a few feet away from me. He looked a little different than IWL. His hair was cut short, and he was wearing really nice eyeglasses with no frames on the bottom of the lenses and nice, thin, black frames across the top. He was also wearing a pale, lemon-yellow shirt that looked very clean and pressed.

My boss said, "Well, I guess I should tell you it's going to happen to me next. But don't say I told you."

I understood this to mean that my boss was going to leave the company. But he'd said it so quietly and mumbled, and he'd told me not to talk about it. So I acted like it wasn't a big deal, like I almost hadn't heard him in the first place. I actually may also have hoped he'd say whatever he'd said again, since he'd mumbled and been so quiet that I wasn't quite sure I heard him correctly.

My boss was annoyed by my reaction, as if he thought what he'd said hadn't sunk into my skull at all. So, as I walked closer to him, he took out a plastic pen, kind of fatter than normal, and poked me at the top right side of my chest, and said, "Au revoir."

It was now clear that my boss was leaving the company. My boss had given me a parting gift. It was a huge book by Marguerite Duras. I don't remember the title. It was a fat paperback. It had a yellow cover, possibly with some kind of painting inside a circle on the center on the front.

My boss and I stood at the far end of the counter now. Just beyond us was an unlit area that looked like a living room, or even like two decent-sized living rooms separated from each other by some kind of partitions. The rooms were visible only by the fluorescent light of the office area and the deep blue morning or evening light coming in through the wall-sized windows.

The counter looked now more like an alcohol bar made out of office materials. My boss wandered around to the other side of the bar. As he did I told him, "Well, I'm really thankful to you. You took a chance on me when nobody else would..."

But my boss waved me off, as if to say, "Don't start with all that modesty stuff again." He came back around the bar and handed me another book. It was also by Marguerite Duras. It was much thinner than the first book. It had the same kind of yellow color. This book was titled Abe Diem----- or Abe Dies----- (can't remember the rest of the word). I figued the title was German.

Dream #2

I was walking on some concrete path with two other people. One was probably my sister. The other was a kind of fat man maybe my age or younger, maybe in his mid 20s.

It was a bright, sunny day. The path we walked on was like a sidewalk, and it was in a suburban neighborhood. But it was actually crossing some area between two grassy fields on either side of which were blocks of houses. The area we were walking through at first was narrow, as if there were some kind of construction trailer to our right.

At least my sister and I were carrying something. We both carried the objects slung over our shoulders. My sister carried one bag of something and a huge, black-metal frame almost like a bed frame. The frame had a bunch of figures molded into the empty space. The figures looked like toys, like army figures, or little toy-wrestling figures. The thing looked extremely awkward and heavy to carry. I may actually have felt this from my sister's point of view.

I was carrying a plastic bag with a huge pack of Huggies diapers in it. It wasn't very heavy at all.

I felt kind of guilty for carrying something so light and easy while my sister carried such a big, heavy frame. At some point either I or the other man suggested that we stop a moment, ostensibly to give my sister a break. The man stopped. I slowed down, unsure as to what our plan was. My sister kept going. She said she didn't need a break. And before long, she was altogether gone.

We were finally now just past the trailer or series of trailers that had made the place seem so narrow. We were in a grassy field, like a litte park. The guy had stopped right past the far end of the trailers. I'm pretty sure he hadn't been holding anything before. But now he set down a white, cloth bag and a black frame like the one my sister had.

I set down my bag with the huge pack of Huggies diapers. I was also carrying a small, black bag which had something square in it. I set the black bag on top of the Huggies bag, hoping that I could conceal the fact from the man that I was carrying all these diapers around with me.

The man now explained the black frame to me. He said you painted one side of the figures and then pressed them against a canvas. In this way you created some kind of big painting of all these figures.

There was also another frame, which may have been of copper or bronze. Not everybody had this second frame. But it produced a second layer on the paintings, which gave the figures "moveable arms." The arms really weren't moveable on the painting. But I guess what was meant was that the torso, legs, and head of the figures were one color, while the arms were another color.

In my mind's eye I saw a brownish-copper color canvas or paper dotted with gnarly, little paint-figures. The legs, torsos, and heads of the figures were black, while the arms were either white or a very pale, bright shade of purple.

Dream #3

I was in a movie theatre with a few other people. The movie theatre was huge, but there were only a few of us, all scattered through the first three or four rows of the theatre. Two people I was aware of were an older man with big, clear glasses and pale, blue eyes, and a young, pretty, blonde woman.

We were all here as part of some audition. Or we may actually already have been performing. But as part of this audition or performance we had to watch whatever movie was playing.

I may have been second row. Something felt very weird just to my left, as if the seats were gone, or as if something or someone was crowding me almost to the point of pushing against me.

The old man was in the row behind me. He tapped my left shoulder. He said to me, "See over there, in the front row? That boy? Even though he's a star, he wanted to be part of this thing, too. Heh, heh! He called his agent up directly and asked to be given a space down here today!"

I looked to the boy the man had pointed out. He seemed to look like Frankie Muniz from Malcolm in the Middle. But he wore a round-brimmed hat and big, thick eyeglasses. He sat in the front row, in one of the far left seats. He had seemed a little standoffish to me, though I'm not sure when he had seemed this way. But now he seemed shy, kind of fragile, and in need of a friend.

I was now sitting at a table, apparently in some kind of restaurant. The table was for four. To my right was a window wall which revealed the pink-peach light of early sunrise or late sunset, possibly over a body of water, like a huge lake.

The "star" sat caddy-corner from me at the table, eating something like cereal or oatmeal. I may have been eating or only drinking a cup of coffee. I suddenly recognized the "star." It was a man named Aki, a guy who DJ'd at a relief concert that had been held at the Japan Society.

I was excited to see him again, as I'd lost contact with him. But I remembered how shy and fragile he'd seemed as the "star" kid in the theatre. So I didn't speak too enthusiastically to him, or even let on that I knew who he was.

I asked him something about his life. He responded in a kind of quiet tone, like he was a little depressed. I thought I wouldn't press any more conversation, although it looked like he was probably getting ready to say a few more things on his own.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was a bright, clear day. Charles Bronson lay on his back on a stone step or bench that felt like it was either the top bleacher section of some really tall stadium or some high point on a building.

Charles Bronson was naked except for a diaper, which he was currently wetting. A young, pretty blonde woman sat at Bronson's feet, waiting to change Bronson. From the look in her eyes she liked the fact that Bronson wore diapers and wet them.

Dream #2

A woman was on stage right before or at the beginning of an event like the Oscars. She gave a short speech and then said that the announcer for the show would be out to present in one moment.

The stage and the theatre seemed really large while the woman had been speaking. I had seen everything from a far back, high up row. But now, as the woman left the stage through a door to the left, my view followed her. The woman walked out into a fluorescent lit hallway. I turned back to look in at the theatre. The place looked really small.

My view was back inside the theatre, as if hovering just above the people in the first rows. A kind of old man walked in through the door through which the woman had left. The man may have made some comment about seeing the people in the back row. So he put a telescope to his eye. But he put the wrong end of the telescope to his eye.

I could already tell that the guy was going to make some kind of gag about how it seemed like the people in the back row were really far away or how it was like everybody in the audience looked really small or something like that. I kind of didn't want to hear such a groaner.

But the guy seemed to be delaying this joke. All this time he had stayed halfway in and halfway out of the door. Now he shuffled sideways all the way into the theatre and up onto the stage. I assumed he would make his telescope joke once he was up on the stage.

Dream #3

I was laying on a couch, on my back. There was a window somewhere beyond my feet, letting in some grey naturaly light. Just beside the couch's arm on which my head was resting there may have been a bookshelf. I think I had my hands under my head.

A little girl with long, brown hair stood beside the couch. She wasn't wearing any clothes. She may have eventually crawled up on the couch to sit beside me. She told me, "I wish I had boobs."

I told her, "Be glad for the time being that you don't have boobs. Probably once you have them you'll think they're a real pain in the neck."

The little girl was now gone. There were a lot of people in the room now. I knew an older woman was coming to talk to me. I may even have heard her call for me. So I sat up and looked back.

The couch was apparently in some place like a cafe or a grocery store like Whole Foods. The room I was in was somewhat like a living room. But beyond this room there were food counters and display shelves running down a kind of narrow hall that I think opened into a bigger room.

There was a pretty full crowd of people, maybe men and women in their late twenties, looking around and shopping. From them I saw the woman, kind of short, skinny, with short, grey and black hair coming through the crowd. She asked, "What did you tell that little girl?"

I didn't think that anything I'd told the little girl was wrong. But I saw how it could be construed as wrong. I lay on my right side, shouting out something to the woman. I thoujght I had been telling the woman what I'd been saying to the girl. But at some point I realized I wasn't telling the truth at all. In fact, I was telling some kind of nonsense story that would look like I was trying to cover up what I'd said.

So now I really focused on what I was saying. I told the old woman (wherever she was), "I told the girl that she should be happy for the time that she doesn't have boobs. Because once she gets boobs it'll be a real pain in the neck. Because guys'll be chasing her all over the place."

Good morning, everybody. The first two dreams had a kind of half-dream feel to them. I don't think I was all the way asleep.

Dream #1

I was in bed, lying on my stomach. I saw my phone, even though I may not have held it in my hands. I continued reading the book I had gone to bed reading, Psi Spies, by Jim Marrs. The section of the book was about Ingo Swann. A lot of the stuff sounded familiar, like stuff I'd previously read about Swann. But the language was really weird at points, almost absurd.

Dream #2

I was reading from my phone again. I was somewhat aware of the dream-like quality of my experience. I kind of found it funny that I was reading a book that was less than a foot away from my head by whatever kind of complicated psychic means I was using. I thought I my check the text I was reading now against the text of the book when I "woke up," although I knew it probably wouldn't match. Some of the language was just too absurd.

Dream #3

Possibly a black and white film view from a train window of a landscape and some kind of factory building. A narrator spoke about how Frederick Wiseman was the predecessor of A.A. Milne. The narrator said that even though Wiseman was a pioneer, he still didn't have the courage to say everything he wanted to say. A.A. Milne took Wiseman's statements and carried them forward with their full meaning.

I may have caught the absurdity of this in my dream. Milne wrote his children's books a while before Wiseman started making his controversial documentaries. Nevertheless, I was kind of sad to hear the narrator's words, as if they were true after all, and I had missed the basic fact.

Dream #4

I "came into work" (I may only have had a vision of doing so). My computer screen was on, and open to a database that holds our reports. The screen was open to a report I had written yesterday.

Somehow I came to understand that my boss had -- again! -- completely ignored the report I'd written and made a completely different report all his own.

Dream #5

I was in a grocery store, before something like the conveyor belt checkout stand. But this checkout stand was all the way in a back corner of the store, like in the packaged beef and lunchmeat area.

I was with my mom, one or two young, black men, and a young, black woman. The cashier was an old lady. The cashier kept pulling stuff out from her side of the checkout stand and throwing it onto the conveyor belt. All of us then had to bag it up.

At some point the woman was throwing unpackaged diapers onto the conveyor belt. I had a huge, opened, empty diaper package. I sat on the ground with the bag between my legs and loaded all the diapers into the bag. The filled bag may have come up to about mid-thigh on me.

At another point the old lady herself had filled a paper bag so full with canned goods that it fell over and spilled all over the conveyor belt. The woman looked terribly annoyed. I felt ashamed. Had we really bought all this stuff? Wasn't it too much?

The old lady said, "Look, I don't have any more paper bags. We can only do plastic now." I understood this to mean that the old lady was finally getting tired of dealing with all the food we had apparently bought.

I thought we should all make things as easy on her as possible by packing everything up as quickly as possible. The two black men seemed a little reluctant to speed up, possibly because they didn't believe they could really put all the food away -- as if there weren't enough bags, or as if all the bags would break.

I told the young men, as if this would solve all their problems, "Look, it's easy. When you get diapers, put them into one of these big diaper bags. Open in all the way up, and it'll hold a lot. Trust me: I just did it."

The young men acted like that made sense. The young woman looked at me with pity, as if she knew that the young men thought I was kind of crazy.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a bedroom. The bedroom was really messy, and it had two beds, both of which were strewn over with tons of blankets.

I was looking at a pad of paper which hinged at the top, like a gum-bound sketch pad. All the pages were filled in, but mostly with words and images like photographs, as if this were some kind of newspaper or underground magazine. The images were in black and white. A lot of the images were supposed to be pronographic, and I think they were meant to turn me on personally, as if to prove I was perverted.

One kind of badly printed, overexposed photo showed a girl lying stomach down on her bed. Her head was buried under blankets, but the rest of her body was visible. She wore a dark tank top, a mini-skirt, and a diaper. I thought the girl was an adult at first. But then I came to think she might be a little girl. I tried to look closer to see the photo.

To my right, on the other bed, a little girl lay stomach down, wearing a diaper, like in the photo. An old man either knelt by or sat on the bed. He was well dressed and had somewhat nicely arranged, grey hair. But he looked really scary, and his plae blue eyes seemed to be bugging out of his head. He kept poking the girl's bottom with his index finger.

My mother, or a woman my mother's age, may also have been in the room.

I looked back to the sketch pad, to try and find the photo. But I couldn't find it. I kept flipping through the pages. But I might only have seen a bunch of words. I heard some voice talking about the passage of time and how sad it is that we can't go back to what we used to be.

Dream #2

I was in a movie theatre, sitting on the left end of a right aisle, a few rows back from the front. I was all alone in the row. My brother and a couple other people his age sat in the row in front of me. The lights were on in the theatre. It was like one movie had just finished and we were now waiting for another to start.

A tiny, little girl with kind of long, messy-curly, blonde hair and wearing a long-sleeved, red shirt and a diaper asked if the seats to my right were free. I said yes. She may have asked something else, because my brother was standing up and giving all kinds of advice to the little girl.

The little girl sat in the seat right next to me. She grabbed my arm and cuddled against it. She said, "I'm so happy we get to sit with you. My mommy will be here in a second."

I felt like my brother was jealous that the little girl had completely ignored him while he was giving his advice, and that the girl was so excited to sit by me. I hoped it wouldn't cause him to have any emotional difficulties or outbursts. But my brother must have sat down with his friends.

Eventually the girl got kind of bored sitting by me. She hopped off the seat and tapped on the back of my brother's seat, as if she wanted to talk to him. Now I felt a little jealous.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a different family's house. I had been there for at least one day. I made some kind of agreement with the parents. After this I either left the house or fell asleep and made an out-of-body flight out of the house.

I either drove or floated around the family's neighborhood. I thought about the deal we had made, and some kind of arrangements I would have to make. The sun eventually came up, and, as it was pretty bright, I floated back toward the family's house.

The neighborhood looked nice, like some kind of upper class neighborhood in California, with white houses and palm trees, set, apparently, among rolling hills. I basically floated right into the house, right through a front wall, on the ground floor.

The set up was a living room, then something like a half-room/half-hallway, then a big kitchen, then another room like a second living room in the back of the floor, and a few other rooms off to the left of that. Everything was lit with a kind of dim, blue-grey light, as if the bright early morning light were coming in through heavy, blue-grey curtains.

I floated through the living room. I eventually touched down and began walking. When I walked into the kitchen, I saw the mom of the family. She was the only person up. She sat at the kitchen table, preparing something, possibly something for a baby.

The kitchen table, along with the rest of the kitchen, seemed to be cluttered with household items, but not dirty.

I was wearing a thin, powder-blue babydoll-skirt with tiny, puffy sleeves. I wasn't wearing any underwear, and I seemed to be at a pre-pubescent stage of sexual development. I don't actually know whether I was myself or some pretty-looking boy.

Apparently I had made some kind of deal, either with only with the mom or with the mom and the dad, that I would dress up and act like a baby girl for them.

Something had happened to the daughter. It was like the daughter was a product, like a doll that had broken. They needed to make up for this by using me as a baby-substitute. I can't remember the details, but it reminds me of TV shows when a puppy dies and the parents try to buy a new puppy to trick the kids into thinking the puppy is still alive.

I didn't need to act like a little girl yet, because everybody was still asleep. Plus, there was apparently some specific event that I was acting for, and it wasn't until later in the morning. So I was about to go put on some regular boy underwear.

But as I walked into one of the rooms off to the left of the kitchen, I decided that I wanted to wear diapers and crawl around and act like a baby around the mom. So I crept shyly back into the kitchen and stood right next to the mom. I asked if it would be alright if I put on some diapers right now. She seemed indifferent and said that would be fine.

I walked through a left door in the kitchen. I was going to go around through the left room and then back to the back living room, instead of straight into the back living room through the back doorway in the kitchen. The diapers were in a cluttered pile of household items in the back living room, possibly near a fireplace.

At this point in time I may also have been sucking on a pacifier. I may also have looked a lot more like a little girl than a man or a little boy. It was now also like the baby girl I was "replacing" was still around and perfectly fine.

I thought, The little girl still has to use the diapers. The mom is indulging me by letting me wear more than I need for the time that the family needs me. It's really just wasting diapers. It's doing a disservice to the little girl, because she needs the diapers and I don't. And isn't it gross that I want to wear diapers before the event? If I'm so eager to jump into diapers right now, doesn't that prove I really like wearing diapers?

(Side note: Sorry for the hentai character of my dreams sometimes. I'm not trying to gross anybody out.

As for the not-so-hentai parts of my dreams, I think the family and California neighborhood themes come from my trip to the Paley Center, or the Museum of Television and Radio, yesterday.

This is a museum where you can watch all kinds of old TV shows, commercials, etc. It's kind of like a mix between YouTube and a library. They also have a movie theatre where they run a specific set of TV programs all day long.

So yesterday the movie theatre was showing the program An American Family, which was made in 1971 and is kind of recognized as the first "reality show." The family in that show lived in California.

Even though the family was pretty dysfunctional, I kept wondering what it would be like to be a part of the family, in a positive way. I mean, they seemed pretty dysfunctional, but pretty glamorous, too.

Anyway, then I watched some TV programs on my own. One of the programs I watched was a Nova special about UFOs. It was made in the 1990s, and one part of it involved an interview with a family in Miami whose children were apparently visited by aliens on a nightly basis. There were a little boy and an infant girl.

But what reallly struck me about this family was how white their house was. The wall were blank, white, so bright. The carpet was white, the couch was white, everything was white! It was so unreal -- I thought I'd only see a setting like that in a movie or a dream. I think the family's house in my dream was a reaction against the purity of that house.)

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a house like my great-grandmother's house. Other family members were there. We were all getting ready for a wedding, which was probably going to take place in the living room.

I walked out from the kitchen into the living room. Right where my great-grandmother's chair would have been, there was a bed. Two or three people were in the bed. These were the people who were going to get married.

The people had a weird look, like they were frozen or made out of wax. They had strained, sinewy looks on their faces, like old paintings of people in sorrow and pain. They looked like they were near death. One of them seemed to be wearing ancient robes and a head-covering, like women in Renaissance paintings. The robes, and possibly even the person, seemed to be colored a pale pink.

I think that the scene of the bed made so little sense to me that I actually looked away from it. I couldn't understand how a marriage could be so morbid.

Other family members were seated in different parts in the room, each group spaced well apart from the other. The family members remarked that there was one person missing from the bed -- the woman who was actually to be the bride.

The family members all remarked that the woman was so sensitive about having her picture taken in these situations that she'd avoided this scene altogether. Everybody kind of felt bad for setting up this situation, even though it seemed to be the usual part of a wedding. But everybody kind of looked up to this girl, so they hated doing anything that made her uncomfortable.

I saw the girl in my head. She looked kind of young, maybe in her late teens or early twenties. She was skinny, kind of pale, and blonde, with her hair in a pony tail. She wore tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt which she had tucked into her pants, but which was also a little baggy around her tiny waist.

Dream #2

I was in a small bedroom, like a bedroom for a little kid, with my boss. We both sat on the floor, cross-legged. I sat before a bunk bed. My boss sat near the door.

I had a big, white, cotton bag of laundy in front of me. Inside the bag was a bunch of laundry and two packs of diapers. One pack was pink, and one pack was blue.

I was going through the bag, shuffling through all the clothing, which may actually have been dirty. I may have been trying to pull some stuff together for some kind of business trip that I was going to take with my boss.

My boss started telling me about his old job, which actually had something to do with the packs of diapers in the laundry bag. He had done something like design the diapers or been among the first sales team to promote them, or something.

Apparently the diapers were made for newborns or very young babies. There was some other sort of stuff related to the diapers -- clear, plastic items like tubing and masks (?).

I pretended to be pulling different items of clothing out of the bag. But I was actually more focused on pulling the diapers and the plastic items out of the bag. I wanted to wear the diapers from the pink pack. I think I assumed that the plastic gear helped you fit into the diapers (?).

I hoped my boss didn't catch on that I was going to try and wear these newborn girls' diapers. But eventually my boss stopped talking about his old job. He got impatient that I was taking so long finding clothes for the business trip. He said, "I'll be waiting outside, whenever you finally have everything all ready to go."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a small hallway that was dimly lit. I stood by a little group of shelves for newspapers. I saw and grabbed a copy of The Onion. But somebody acted in a mean way that made me nervous as I was grabbing the paper.

I got nervous, pulled the paper out quickly, and hurried away. But a few steps away, I realized I had gotten only a few of the first sheets of the paper, not the whole thing. So I went back to grab the rest of the paper.

I was now in a gas station. One of my friends was with me, I'm not sure who. Behind the counter of the gas station was a youngish woman, a little overweight, with copper-tan skin and long, black hair that was pulled back and a little frizzy. She was really cheerful and nice.

I was sitting in a big, pink recliner before the counter. I seemed to be sitting inside of it as though I were really small, maybe a child. But I also seem to have been myself, at my normal height, as well.

Apparently I was wearing diapers and I had wet my diapers. I hadn't told the woman, but she knew that I needed to change my diapers. She told me that there was a restroom in some place across the street (a cafe or a fast food restaurant?). She told me I could change my diapers there.

I didn't have diapers, and somehow the woman knew that, too. She pulled down, from a top shelf over the cash register area, a partly empty pack of diapers. There were two adult-sized, pink diapers inside. The woman told me I could change into one of these diapers and hold onto the other one.

Somehow I came to understand that the woman thought of me as either her kid or as a person who needed someone to take care of him like a mother would. She had known this for a little while, so she had prepared for it. I thought it was wonderfully nice of her to think of me.

I was now outside, on a wide street on a sunny day. The space on either side of the road seemed wide and empty, maybe with dirt lots or grassy lots, although there also were buildings somewhere in the distance. All around on the road there was a feeling of heavy machinery and dusty construction material.

A group of young people, some or all of whom may have been my friends, were laying out a line of what looked like gigantic surge-protector power strips. The power strips were maybe 1.5m long and .6m wide. At either end, they seemed to have poles sticking out of them, like the poles for rope-belt line makers.

The young people would lay the surge protectors down and then plug huge, black cords into them. A few people had to carry and set down each surge-protector. Both that work and the plugging work seemed difficult.

I was trying to find a place in the work where I could be helpful. But the people were all working so quickly and efficiently together already. I couldn't get in. Eventually I was worried that I would look lazy.

I may have made some kind of weak assertion to everybody else that I should have a place in the work. But one of the people (the only person I can remember now was a man with olive-colored skin, shaggy, black hair, and a shaggy goatee) said something about how I was too much of a sissy to help. One person may have told another person, "Tell that guy to go back to the diapers that girl gave him and have fun with those."

So I walked over to what seems, now, like a flatbed trailer for a semi truck. The bed seemed to have been made out of heavy planks of wood. Oddly enough, the pack of diapers the woman had given me was sitting on the bed. There was also some kind of pile of pages or some kind of book. The story in the pages/book may have been something similar to Alice in Wonderland.

I was now "almost-present" in some kind of place with an old friend of mine, M. M was trying to show me, in his usual intelligent-jester way, some article that he found really funny in The Onion.

I had a series of views based on that article. Sometimes it was like I was looking at the paper. Other times it was like the images on the paper, while still paper-images, were also my whole view, as big as the world. At other times, it was like I was in the images, like they were the three-dimensional, real world, while still looking like newspaper images.

The article was taking some fictional discovery made by fictional scientists, which was obviously a cave which had been used by prehistoric peoples for women to give birth in. But the article was trying to make it sound like a mystical place. The humor of the article, apparently, was how the scientists were trying to give this place a really mystical meaning, when it was "just" a birth cave.

At one point I saw a cross-section image of the birth cave. The cave had three rooms, one set behind the other.

The very back room was labelled with some "really mystical" title by the scientists. In actual fact, it was "just" some kind of room where a spirit was being prepared to enter into the body in the mother's womb. The middle room was the room where the actual birth took place. This room was again, given some "comically mystical" name. The front room had some weird label like "meat and other stuff." I took this to mean that all the supplies that one gets by living in the outside world started to be given to the newborn child here.

The article seems to have been full of references to an astral state. Apparently the scientists had discovered human ribs in the middle or front room. So the scientists made some weird comment about how the "astral ribs" of a cave dweller had been damaged and left behind.

The front room had been fashioned, apparently, into a spacious, domed room, with a wide doorway to the outside. The domed ceiling was the natural stone of the cave, though it also seemed to be fashioned into shapes that looked like tiles.

Near the front of the room, some of the "tiles" were missing from the ceiling. The scientists made some "comically mystical" statement about the shaped that the dark space now left by the missing tiles made in the ceiling. But the "comically mystical" statement "only" amounted to what the image actually looked like -- a woman lying on her back, giving birth, while another woman knelt before the first woman, receiving the child.

At this point I may have been trying to figure out what exactly was funny about this article. As far as I could tell, I thought, from my reading about prehistoric life, birth caves were very mystical places, and the birth process was very mystical. The fact that the image of birth in a birth cave had naturally occurred also seemed mystical to me. I couldn't see why a mystical treatment of the whole thing would be so funny.

Dream #2

I had apparently done some kind of complex work project for my boss. It was something I had done on my own initiative.

My boss now began criticizing my work. He told me that the work I had done was too complex. He said that this wasn't the kind of things clients liked to see from us. He said that our job was to do something more simplistic, very basic, and using very basic data.

My boss told me that we couldn't do anything that expressly directed our clients' ideas, because our clients' job was to have ideas. My boss said, "We need let the clients have a chance to do some value creation on their own. So if we just put a bunch of basic data together and something in it inspires our clients to have an idea, we've done a good job."

I took this to be my boss' nice way of breaking it to me that I was spending too much time doing the stuff I actually liked and not enough time doing the pain in the neck work of finding basic data, doing basic number work.

I knew my boss was too nice to tell me that I had been kind of on the wrong track for a while, and that I needed to get back on the right track of looking for hard number-data. So he'd made some cover-up story that really didn't even match what his real thoughts about our work was.

I now felt kind of stupid and lazy for not having done enough number work.

Good morning, everybody. Both of these dreams are kind of perverted. Sorry.

Dream #1

I was in "my bedroom." The bedroom was big and comfortably dim. I stood on my knees on a big bed with brown blankets on it. I was wearing either only a diaper or a diaper and a white tank-top with thin straps. I peed and peed in the diaper. At one point I felt like the diaper was really full of pee.

(The feeling of this dream was so real that I had to make sure when I woke that I hadn't actually wet the bed. Pretty weird.)

Dream #2

I typed in some key words on Google Images that I thought would pull up lots of images of girls kissing. Instead, I got lots of images of girls lying on their backs with their legs wide open. The girls wore no pants or underwear, but they all had shirts. One girl in particular wore a business-type top involving a white button-up shirt, a grey sweater, and a black vest.

Good morning, everybody. These dreams probably all occurred in the early morning, maybe after 2:30 or 3 AM.

The first two dreams had a weird visual quality, as if I were reading them or half-reading them. I think this comes from the fact that last night I read Oe Kenzaburo's story "Teach Us to Outgrow Our Madness, in which one of the characters is a boy who can't see very well.

The emotional difficulty the boy's father has with this and other things is so vivid that I think my unconscious tried to put me in that boy's position in one way or another.

Dream #1

I was half-reading and half-watching a story about a man and a woman at a hotel. The man was in danger, and the woman was trying to protect him. The man and the woman were both spies. The man had probably gotten caught in the act.

The woman had brought the man to the hotel for hiding. She may now have been explaining to the man that he was a spy. This may have come as a surprise to the man, who didn't actually want to be a spy.

The woman may then have made some sort of flirtatious gestures or comments to the man. The man may have understood that the woman wanted to have sex with the man while they were at the hotel. But the man didn't want to have sex. The woman may have, reluctantly, gotten the point, after which she turned to talking about some "serious" topic with the man.

Dream #2

I was reading an email from one of the bosses of my department, M. M's email was written in regular black text, except words and phrases that he wanted to emphasize, which were in bold and colored brown.

The first part of the email had to do with the fact that our larger company was getting to celebrate some royal wedding from a number of decades ago. An old, royal couple would be visiting the offices.

I could see the couple in my head, as if looking at a photograph from the late 1800s. They woman was dressed in a Victorian dress. The man was dressed in a military suit and medals.

M wrote that we had to treat the royal couple very nice because they were major investors in our company.

M's email then went on to say that M was going to be let go from the company in just a little while. He was going to stay on to make sure a couple of big events were taken care of. He wasn't bitter he was getting fired. He understood.

I now saw a tall, thin, old, white man in a lonely office hallway. The man stood before a copier that was set into a niche in the wall. The copier had a strange-looking top. It looked like some kind of animal trap, covered over in a metal shell and painted the same color of grey-beige as the copier.

I knew that, to make copies, you had to drop the papers onto the top of the strange device. The papers would then fall into the copier, as they would fall into a garbage can.

Dream #3

I had been in a room full of people, mostly women, doing some kind of small workshop or conference. The room had emptied out largely, with just a few people around. Now, even though I stood in the room still, it was like a number of months had passed since the conference.

I was looking for somebody to celebrate "the holiday" with. The holiday was like Christmas, but it wasn't Christmas. I asked a short woman if she would like to celebrate the holiday with me. She probably said she couldn't. But then she remembered that another girl, an Israeli girl, was looking for someone to spend the holiday with.

The Israeli girl called me on the phone. I could see the girl in my mind's eye. She was short, with olive skin, and long, black hair. I was really happy I was going to get to go out with her.

The Israeli girl told me something like there was no way she was going to be able to get back home "to West Tel Aviv" (I'm not sure if people make such an explicit distinction as "West Tel Aviv" in waking life). I thought of Tel Aviv and told the Israeli girl how much I wanted to go there. One of my favorite psychologists, Erich Neumann, spent the final years of his life there.

I told the girl something like she must hear people say stuff like that all the time. I told her it must get annoying to hear people talk about her home like it was so perfect, when it wasn't actually very easy at all to live there.

I (false) remembered a conversation I'd had with a woman from another country. The woman had told me about how naïve she thought some foreigners were. They'd say how much culture they thought her country had. But they didn't understand that it was really a scary place to live.

I was now in a big room, sitting on a couch so that my legs were propped up on the back and my back lay on the seat cushion. A pretty, blonde college girl stood before the couch. The girl was tall, thin, slim, and tan, with blue eyes. She wore a pink sweater and dark blue jeans.

The girl was giving a speech about different media-propaganda campaigns made by certain regions of the world to make other regions of the world look bad. She was giving a lot of really interesting examples. It sounded like dangerous information to have. But it also sounded like she was referencing Hollywood in almost every example.

I tried to pay closer attention to the girl's speech. But there were a bunch of girls getting up and leaving, walking between me and the girl and making such noise, talking with each other, that I couldn't get what the girl was saying. Her last example had something to do with New York carrying out a smear campaign against Chicago.

Other than the girl and I, there was only one woman now in the room. She was like a professor and like the girl's mother. She was working at a big desk off in the corner of the room.

The girl now flopped down on a couch near mine. We were something like good friends. But I was now really sexually aroused by her. So I rolled off the couch and crawled over to her couch.

For some reason, I asked the girl, "So now what are you going to do with you life?"

The girl's belly was a little exposed from under the sweater. I had intended to roll up and see if I could get away with snuggling with the girl on the couch. But, seeing the girl's belly and waistline, I just decided to stick my hand into the girl's jeans.

So I lifted up the girl'ls waistline and began feeling her. I was surprised to discover that the girl was wearing a baby's diaper. This didn't worry me too much. I moved my hand farther down toward the girl's crotch.

Suddenly the girl demanded, "What are you doing?"

I thought, Oh no! She doesn't want me touching her. I was so embarrassed that I woke up.