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I remember being in my room, and it was dark. If course, it was night outside and the only light was coming from my tv, and my dad was watching tv in the living room. Out of nowhere a snake starting slithering toward me, and I screamed. I think it was a corn snake from the size and color. I ran out the room where my dog and dad were. He was asking me what happened and I was jumping away from the snake at every which way but it kept getting under me, dancing around at my feet. I'm not usually scared of snakes, but this one particularly terrified me. I have no Idea why. I yelled at my dad to kill it, but instead, he dug a pencil- or was it a small knife- through my dog. He died, and the snake disapeared. I fell to my knees in shock, and then began crying, sobbing, yelling at my dad. And then I woke up. My dogs still alive

Type: Regular dream.
Lucidity: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Vividness: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes:
Holy crap. I recalled seven dreams between last night (8 hours) and a nap that I took this afternoon (4 hours). The majority of these dreams were very vivid, but sadly there were no lucids. I'll try to publish them all over the next few days.

It was just beginning to get dark; the sky was a pale mid-blue in color. My father and I were outside on a dark wooden dock, which was slightly rotted from age. This dock was attached to a decently-sized island filled with Mexican-style buildings. We could see indiscernible land all around us in the distance, between this island was in the middle of a lake. The water was dark, not quite black but bordering on it. Near and under the L-shaped dock, it was lighter because the water was shallower. The long part of the dock's "L" shape went onto the land, while the short part went along the side of it, and this part of the dock went out a good eight or nine feet away from the island, sinking down a little bit the further out it went.

There were only three or four people around, and they were a good ways away from the dock. My dad and I walked down the dock and arrived at the edge, looking down into the shallow part of the water, which was a nice turquoise color that gradated from the blacker parts. I could see some sand very faintly at the bottom. My dad decided to go swimming; this is one of the first instances where I can almost completely visualize what someone was wearing: he was wearing jeans with a slight blackness to them, as if he had walked through soot or something, and he was wearing a purple and orange thick-striped shirt with two white buttons on the collar, which was popped. A strange clothing choice, but meh... My subconscious is weird.

He pulled his shirt down a bit, and it seemed to lengthen as he did; it was now halfway down to his knees. A swimsuit of sorts, maybe?

Then, my dad kneeled down and put one leg over the dock at a time, then slowly got into the water. I watched him wade outwards from the dock, but then I saw a few dark - and ridiculously realistic, down to the lighting and textures - shapes floating on the water, heading for him. There were four of them; they were scattered around the water and not really following a line or anything. They were dark, dark green, and shaped exactly like pistachio shells - two curved half-ovals which were only attached on one side, and they had some short lighter green tentacles which reminded me of leeches, but they were slimmer and longer. Their bodies were on top of the tentacles, which fanned out in a circle underneath, and the tentacles probably had a span of only a foot from tip-to-tip.

I called out, "dad, get out of the water!" because I knew these creatures were dangerous. My dad turned around to see them floating towards him. One of them, the closest one, opened its mouth to reveal tiny, razor-sharp black teeth and a larger mussel for a tongue. It swam quickly over to him as he tried to pull himself onto the dock, and he got up, but not before it fastened its tentacles onto his arm and stuck there. The tentacles wrapped around it and wouldn't let go, and he had to try very hard to tear them off. "It's implanting poison into my arm!" my dad said, freaking out. If the tentacles were on his arm more than a few seconds, he would die because poison would seep into his arm.

Two of the tentacles were wrapped around from his left side, while the other two were wrapping from the opposite direction. They looked lighter and more translucent while on his arm, but when I pulled the four tentacles off his arm, with his help, they looked darker. I grabbed the creature by its body and threw it into the water. I saw no marks on his arm, but we were still both very scared.

The dream ended with my dad having a scared look on his face, which looked genuine even though I'd never seen him look like this in real life.

02.03.2012

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I was going to nap for a little while, but when I woke up to the alarm, I seemed to dozed off a little bit after I turned it off, and slipped into an accidental nap.

OH, and I changed the format of the dates labeled on each dream, I'm used to the typical M/D/Y format, and it was getting annoying seeing D/M/Y from the default setting of the dream journal template that's available on the older dream journal settings thread I believe.

(Just keeping this as a note so I won't think that I didn't have any dreams on February, since seeing 01.02.2012 would be Jan, if I go back to glance at my older entries and having it at 02.03.2012 might make me think it's from March if I kept conforming to the D/M/Y format instead of the M/D/Y format...just so those who read won't get confused.).

NOTE TO SELF: THIS DREAM WAS TYPED 2/3/12 LINK.



Dream 1:

The dream started out with me standing near a few sets of Buses belonging to the bus system at my University.



They had variation in shapes and function. One was a classic and old school version (apparently), and there was an old lady trying to get the light to turn on, and it seemed she was trying to radio in to the maintenance or whatever to say the lights weren't working.

I immediately ignored going inside of that bus because the old lady was having a hard time. I believe there was another bus in between, but I go up to the bus in front of it.

I go in, and I find this bus is really short inside compared to the others. I believe it had 8-10 seats or so inside, excluding the driver's seat. Here's how the format the bus was.

When you go up the steps to get in, there's going to be four seats or so on your left. And when you turn left to sit on the left side, in front of you is two to four more seats (that are on the opposite side of you), and if you're still sitting on the left side from where you entered, you'll see that there's two or more extra seats placed perpendicular of where you're sitting as the back seats.

(This picture pretty much explains what I said, with those two guys sitting on the side(but just replace them with females), and I was the one sitting on the left. And there were windows on the sides compared to this picture).

I couldn't remember if I was the first one to get on the bus, but I stumble upon mostly female DCs coming in. Of course, there weren't going to be many people, so I see a blonde come in, and the dream shifts to where there's probably 3 females on the bus, excluding the female driver.

I introduced myself to them, starting with the blonde who is front ot me. I put my hand out to her, and she tells me her name, it starts with an "S," but I couldn't remember it. I do remember that I had to ask her twice though.

Looking back on how she looked like, she was your classic MILF, I knew she had a lot of intelligence within her, and she was just so sexy to me. Her body build was so appealing to me, she was wearing the typical light blue jeans, and I believe she was wearing a blue sweater, almost like the one I wore today.

(Just putting this in because it matches to how the DC smiled at me when I greeted her, and she basically had the same upper region as the one in the pic too xD)

I think she had lip gloss on, because I do recall a shine to her lips, probably was trying to attract me. She told me that she majored in Biochemistry, and then I realized she looked like professor (a really hot one that's probably around her late 20s and or early to mid 30s).

I believe I greeted another lady, who was probably a younger blonde, I think she had really curly blonde hair, and probably had freckles as well, but I forgot the first letter of her name compared to the older one that was sitting to the right of her. And the younger one looked shy and timid.

Then I turn left, and I see a Black female DC, I greeted myself to her, and she said she was a Geneticists. She started to tell me more on how she regretted not having Biochemistry as her major since Genetics majors would have to do more work if they wanted to switch or something.

I agreed with her, but then something in my mind told me that something was wrong with that logic she was declaring to me. I explained to her that both Biochemistry and Genetics are about 95% related to each other, so the small percentage that makes them different wouldn't have made any huge changes in whatever she wanted to be.

And I felt myself talking while explaining this to her as well, in fact, I would've became lucid if I was wondering why I'm on a bus when I'm actually taking an accidental nap.

She agrees to my explanation and is like "Oh, really??!" in a surprised tone. Then she tells me she has to speak with one of her advisers to give her a piece of her mind or something.

In my mind, I thought that it would be already too late for her to complain about how whoever advised her to do Genetics instead of Biochemistry since she looked like she was the same age as the blonde MILF.

Then after a while, everything gets quiet, so I guess we're all just planning what to say next. Then I started to say how I wanted to major in Biochemistry because I felt I could also do small research on sleep cycles and dreaming, and all three of them looked at me and nodded their heads each time I explained a reason at the end.

I talked about how Dream research is a science that remains untouched because people are afraid that their beliefs will suddenly be just a method of faith they placed on to define their reality, and other basic things you would say to people who don't look like they focus on dreaming and attempting to become lucid.

They had that curious facade, and it was cute. (Even as I'm typing this, I'm still lured by the blonde MILF, she just had this aura that I could just hug her and smother my face all over her breasts while she gets her hands and holds my my head in excitement, just thinking about it gets me excited too...but let's move on).

The bus stops I believe and we get off. This is the part where the dream transitions I'm not to sure of what occurred first or last.

But from what I remembered first, I was inside a bathroom that was mixed, meaning that there was a section combined with male urinals, and you could walk a few steps to go to the female area.



Of course, I assumed the area with the toilets that were concealed was for females, since I saw the blonde teenager's head that I met inside the bus getting ready to do her business. I think there was another female DC outside the concealed toilet waiting for her.

Then I go to the urinal, and I took a really long time urinating, I'm surprised I didn't wake up feeling wet down there since I felt the sensation getting stronger and stronger as I urinate more. I wanted to be careful not to urinate too fast because I didn't want the liquid to splash back at me.

Then the dream transitions to where we're inside some classroom, and we're all going to leave. I only see the teenager blonde I met in the bus with me, and she was doing her own business.

I think I was searching the desk and drawers to make sure no one left anything. I think I found all sorts of things ranging from deserts, etc.

That's all I remember for that all. I'm still having an attract to the blonde MILF I saw though. Maybe she wanted my attention, and I gave her it, but I just wasn't lucid.

Dream 2: Mother Closing Garage Door

All I remember from this dream was that my father was having difficulty closing the garage door, and he called a DC that looked like my mother to close it for him.

I look at her try to close it, she detaches the right side of it, and slowly links it back to the grooves to slide it down, but by the time she did that, I ignored her and went somewhere.

Dream 3: Party Time Calendar

All I remember from this dream was being giving a calendar of estimated dates of when there was going to be a party that a specific group of older adults called the "Guyanese Club" I knew about in waking life.

As I'm reading this, apparently some DC is telling me how one DC didn't tell the other DC about this calendar, and it was pretty trivial and petty things that I didn't want to listen to.

I think I saw some numbers moving around the calendar, but that's all I remember.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was standing on a tall, grey rock. I must have been right at the edge of a residential area that bordered a mountain or forest area.

At first I was possibly looking up at the sky. The sun seemed to be so bright that I had to close my eyes. But at some point I heard my mom and another woman talking in my head. The two women were talking about a thunderstorm.

I looked at the sky. Some heavy, grey-black clouds loomed off to my right, taking up half the sky. I could tell they were thunderclouds. I was really afraid of getting struck by lightning.

I stood down on the ground now. I looked up at the sky again. I noticed that the left half of the sky was somewhat clear. It looked like the storm was getting pushed off to the right. I thought that if I walked more toward my left I could escape any impending lightning strikes.

I ran to my left -- really afraid of a thunderstorm. I ended up in the crevice of a mountain. The landscape all around me was of barren rock. The rock was gritty and dull, kind of like a tannish grey granite. The area sloped downward for a bit, then flattened out, but remained ridged, like a molar tooth.

There were a few other people in this area, mostly men. They seemed to be split up into pairs or threes, almost like fathers and sons. Each group seemed to be engaged in some task.

I eventually ended up at some contraption made out of old wood. The contraption was like a C-shaped frame. It came up about to my chest. There may have been a couple other guys around me.

I heard some people talking, either around me or in my head. The scene may have changed at some point. There had been some discussion of a guy. I asked what had happened to the guy. The person talking (in my head?) said some short phrase that led me to understand that the man had been convicted of murder and executed by hanging.

25.01.2012

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Well, I woke up a lot earlier than the time I set for my external alarm, which is why I probably remembered a lot of these dreams instead of waking up feeling like I was rushed or something.

Dream 1: Sitting with my father & Balancing on Pipes

I was sitting down with my father at night outside at some party I guess. Apparently, his phone can tell how far somewhere is to real land or something like that. So I look over to the phone changing its status from one word to "Real."

Then suddenly, I'm on top of several pipes connected to each other, and one DC tries to grab some red cloth. Then I have to grab the red cloth I believe, and suddenly I have to fight another DC with a pole stick or something like that.



I decided that instead of fighting while balancing on pipes, that I should just fall down, and get out of there through a door.

Dream 2: Following Blonde DC and her friend

I'm outside, most likely at my University because I'm walking on towards a place, most likely Kyle Field. I'm wearing a brown leather jacket and probably wore long jeans with a shirt (probably).

I see this DC who looks exactly like the girl named Samantha that I knew in real life. She was a blonde, but I think she dye her hair black again, or maybe she really did have black hair.

Anyway, this DC was blonde, and some other female DC was right next to her. I think she was looking to see where she could get a Zune HD. Her friend has a Zune HD, but she said that's not the type she's looking for.

I come a bit closer to show them my Zune HD 32 GB, and before I showed it, Samantha said something about looking for the 32 GB version (her friend probably had the lesser storage type; 16GB I guess).

I show it to her and said that I have it. She looks down at it and says that's the one she's looking for. She gets up and walks somewhere with her friend. I decided to follow both of them, and I put back my Zune HD inside the pocket of my jacket I believe.

I keep following them until we're in a different dream scenario. I think we're outside this large area where they are selling books not only for college students, but for other people as well. It was more open to a lot of people, and it was bright as day, maybe afternoon at 1PM or 2PM setting to it.

Samantha goes up to some old DC who is selling these random green and golden yellow books. She gets her credit/debit card out and asks if the guy could look it up with some source that I can't remember.

I just remember seeing a big stacked green binder that looks like it has a lot of information. And the girl who was following Samantha as well, I think she was trying to get something from what the old guy was saying.



He said something about her studying a lot, and that she probably wouldn't have time to read, in a joking manner. She asks if she has to buy a book, but the old man gives it to her for free and smiles.

She smiles at him, and then she turns to me and smiles I think, or does a small turn to my direction and looks at me. She looks awfully familiar to person in waking life I've met in my College. She had light brown hair, wore those gray jackets with no zipper (had to pull it over your head), and wore typical jeans (she had somewhat skinny to average legs).



Dream 3: Walking with a child to a store

Apparently I'm convincing this little child who looks like he's Indian to follow me somewhere. I go into a store with the kid, and then go back out after a while. But before I headed for the door. I see some Indian child on top of some ledge that's pretty high to be on for his own safety.

He was dark-skinned, and he was wearing a nose-strap-on that was lighter than his skin tone, Apricot-ish colored in fact. I couldn't see his eyes though. He looks at me from below and smiles and says "Pakistan."

I ignore it and focus back my attention to the kid that was following me. I turn around and see him and tell him to come follow me.

We get out through the door.


I wake up after those set of dreams, and typed them up pretty quickly, and then did a WBTB with the FIELD, but I didn't do very well on holding the mouse button with my finger until I let go.

Dream 4: Room full of DCs I knew in Waking Life and at least Three DV members mentioned.

This dream was so vivid and so much like reality, that I swore it was beyond a regular lucid dream where everything felt like reality, and much more. I still can't tell if I'm dreaming, but I know my emotions carried on inside of this dream. If I became lucid, it probably would've been one of those rare experiences that felt like an OBE/AP...or just a WILD that was REALLY close to that experience.

I was inside of a restaurant, it was probably afternoon time in this dream. It was fairly dark inside of this restaurant, but it did have lighting in it.

I remember a DC I was talking to or listening to, but I didn't recall their features. He/She said something that Sinoblak and possibly Alyzarin too (I know Sinoblak was mentioned) wanted he/she to tell me that my true self is revealed when I was with them or something along those lines.

I think the DC probably meant that when I'm alone socializing with them that is. (Maybe it's my subconscious response to me wondering if I'm really who I am when talking to others, not too sure on that reply it gave me...)

The DC also mentioned something about nina too. Too embarrassing to reveal here.
While this DC was telling me all this, I was drinking something in those restaurant cups. I almost wanted to spit out the drink that was in my mouth when this DC told me all of these things about DV members. I believe I tilted my head in questioning and raised my eyebrow or something like that listening to them as well.

Then I had this small image in my head of Nina posting on a thread about something, couldn't remember what exactly. It seemed to be a casual thread on something. But I saw her Avatar pic and everything for a few seconds.

The DC leaves, and I'm finding a seat to sit down on. An Indian or a dark-skinned female DC is at the front of the cash register, and I ask her for a menu. She gives it to me, and I as I'm reading it, the format was like going to Deviant Art's website.

I had some confusion with finding the choices to eat, but I did know that I had a menu in front of me before I went up to get another one.

I decided what I want, and I went up to this lady that looked Hispanic. She was talking to another DC, and they turned their attention to me. I said while stuttering a little bit (that facade of mine where I just suddenly lose my brain for a few seconds) and said that I wanted Nachos with cheese and meat.

And I mentioned that I didn't know the the other choices I could pick, so she helped me out by asking if I wanted small, medium, or large.

Of course, I pick large, and then when I turn my face the other way and turn back, the DCs are completely different. The lady that was helping me by asking me what size I wanted turned into my English AP teacher I had in a High School.

(In waking life, her hair was light blonde (almost close to white)).

She was asking me if I was involved in something in college I believe, I said "No," and she started to laugh with the DC next to her. (but it wasn't a laughing-at-you laugh, it was those laughs older women would express as a "Ooooh you!" laugh.

I think it's even safe to declare that there was a long thin piece of hair elevating on the side of her face. It was just those moments where you see that nearly invisible strand of hair at first glance, but don't say anything about it unless you really knew them.

Then I find myself near the entrance of the store, and the whole scene changes to where there's white tiles on the floor, and the whole area gets a little brighter than before. I see all these DCs that look exactly like the people I met in waking life.

First everything is first-person perspective. I see this DC that looks like a person I drew in waking life, I turn around to greet him, and he says "Thank you." (probably saying thanks to the drawing I did for him and his friend, or maybe for something else).

Then his other friend comes as he moves to another area in the large room. He's looking at the wall, and I try to get his attention by putting my hand out to him to shake, and said that it was nice to meet him.

He was a bit surprised, and said he was nice to meet me too, but he didn't know who I was. Then I told him that I drew him, and he starts to realize who I am and greets me back.

(Apparently I wanted to shake hands with the DCs around me for some odd reason)

Then I turn back and see another DC, he was dark-skinned, and I wanted to shake his hand too, but he was holding something. So I turn back to look at the direction of the small group of DCs in front of me standing and probably talking to each other.

Then I realize the same DC I wanted to shake hands with put the item he was holding (probably a jacket) down, and shook my hand.

After that, I go up a little more to the area where the DCs were. I look up at the TV hanging on some mechanical medium to hold it in place. It said something about "Hey Freshie" and other things that I couldn't recall. I assumed that it was just me being a Freshmen in college, hence the word "Freshie."

Then when I focus my attention to the DCs within the room. I see a female DC to the left of me that looks like the girl that was on the Tennis team I was part of in a high school I don't want to mention because she might find this dream journal.

Let's just call her "K" (I'll probably remember the full name when I go back to glance over this entry later on).

"K" is standing there, and from my peripheral vision, I could tell she was wearing a white shirt and wearing a pink short shorts (those types of shorts athletic girls wear).



Then the last thing I recall was smiling after I was standing around with the DCs.

Then I woke up.

Honestly, the female DC that looked like "K," if I woke up, I would definitely would've fucked her right at that moment. Oh my god, my libido OOOOH if ONLY I WAS LUCID MAN!!! IF ONLY!!!!

Her wearing the pink short shorts and just a white shirt, (and in waking life, her ass was big, but she was had strong thighs, not thunder-thighs). And that's one of the physical features that I liked about her.

That's all I remember, I was a bit bothered for not remembering the whole message on the T.V.

I don't know what the purpose was in showing all of these familiar DCs, but I'm glad I was able to recall a decent portion of what happened.

Good morning, everybody.

The second dream is another silly instance of dream control. I told myself to dream of myself out in a wide, open space, all by myself. I told myself that if I found myself there, I'd become lucid.

Well, I found myself in a wide, open space alright. But I was in a painting. And I was looking at the painting of myself. So... my dream subject was kind of controlled again. But not exactly in the way I'd expected. Lucid fail!

Dream #1

I was in some place like a hospital or a retirement home. But it may also have been a school. I feel like I may have been on the first floor at some point, heading in to some class I was taking. The class may have been for high schoolers, even though I was my current age. But I think I was still doing horribly in the class.

I went down into the basement. I was in a hallway area. The hallway was low, wide, and kind of featureless. There were doorways that went to rooms, each room like a whole department of this hospital. But when the doors were closed, the hallway felt empty and small.

Off to my right was a little alcove with a few doorways. One may have been open, revealing a larger room. But the alcove was filled with shelf-carts for books and stationary bookshelves. The shelves were all filled with books. I knew this was a used book sale.

There were a few people rushing around, getting the shelves all prepared for the sale. The people were mostly men and women in their fifties or sixties. But there were also some younger people, mostly women, probably in their late teens or early twenties. They were all volunteers.

I was interested in seeing what books were on sale. I was mostly interested in science fiction books. So I looked for that area. I think an older woman pushed out a cart full of sci-fi books right as I thought that.

But right as I went to look at the books, a tall, kind of fat, older, white man saw that I was heading there, and he jumped in front of me. He bent over so that he was blocking all the shelves.

Instead of getting mad, I just figured I'd go look at some other books. I walked over to a tall bookshelf, which may have been for paranormal studies.

Dream #2

I was looking at a painting. The painting wasn't realistic: it was a bit blocky and thick, with the sense of three-dimensional perspective a bit flattened, and the color scheme kind of simplified for intensity.

The painting had a red cliff, like one wall of a canyon, taking up the left side. Then there was a bit of grass, then a path. There may have been a boy, his back to the viewer, walking down the path. To the right of the boy, the landscape extended flatly, maybe with a river.

I told myself that I'd definitely become lucid if I was in a landscape like that in a dream. I probably told myself to remember this painting, and to try and make myself go there when I went to sleep tonight.

Dream #3

I was walking around outside somewhere during the day. But I was also talking on the phone with my dad. My dad was telling me about floods occurring in St. Louis, Missouri, which was apparently where my dad lived.

As my dad spoke, I had very strong visions, which were like still photographs, except that I was in them. I stood out in what I guess were aqueducts: they looked like the concrete-walled channels used to catch and drain waters from heavy rains and flash floods.

But the aqueducts I stood in were like highways. I often even stood in the shade of highway overpasses. All around the aqueducts were hills of lawns and trees, so that the aqueducts all felt so quiet and secluded. But I knew they'd be raging with waters pretty soon. It was a bright, sunny, warm day -- hard to believe that it could flood anytime soon.

I may have seen a couple copper-skinned children: a boy and a girl. I thought that they weren't safe out here in the aqueduct. I needed to grab them and get them out of here. But it may also have occurred to me that these children were actually phantoms.

I came back to my senses and found myself walking along some stone-floored promenade in a big park. I was walking up a slope and looking out over an iron railing to my left. Down from the railing was a slope of brambly, leafless trees.

There were some women walking behind me at one point. They said that the flood in St. Louis was going to be 72 inches, once the rain really got going. I couldn't believe it! I didn't want to believe it. I told myself that the weather was too nice here for a flood to happen, even somewhere as far from here as St. Louis.

My dad said, "They're still saying that we're going to have 72 inches of precipitation. It's going to start out looking mild, with only ----- inches. But then it's going to go up really fast and hit 72 inches."

I said, "72 inches! Sheez! That's crazy!"

May dad said, "Well, that's not so bad. We've seen floods like this in St. Louis before. But what's really strange about this one is that it's happening at Christmas -- in December. We aren't even supposed to have rain in December!"

Now I realized that the women I'd heard speaking before were right. As unbelievable (and for some reason inconvenient) as it had sounded to me, it really was going to flood in St. Louis.

As I approached the top of the slope, I could see that, as the promenade plateaued, it also widened out a lot. Over to the right was an overlook, giving a good view over the town we were in (probably somewhere in New England).

But as I got to the wider area, there were a whole lot more people walking around. There were tons of people heading down the slope I'd just come up from. I could tell -- somehow -- that these people were preparing for the flood, even though we were nowhere near it.

One woman, short, skinnyish, and white, maybe in her sixties, with blonde-grey hair and eyeglasses, was walking among the crowd, heading down the slope. The woman was trying to spread some kind of wisdom. She wore a Hindu-esque robe, though I think she thought of herself as a Buddhist.

The woman was saying, "Global warming. Global warming. The flood in December is from global warming." I knew the woman was trying to get somebody interested in her idea so that she could preach to them about being an environmentalist. She may even have had pamphlets about it.

Some younger women nearby may have been agreeing with the older woman. I kind of agreed as well. But I didn't feel like I needed to listen to environmentalist preaching. Hell, I thought. I hardly use any electricity, anyway. All I do is read books.

There was a book sale going on just off to my right as I hit the flat area of the promenade. I got really interested. The books were used, and they all looked really old. I thought I might make some good finds.

But some tall, white man with a bit of a pot belly saw I was interested in the book sale. He tried to get in my way, so that he could get to whatever books I was interested in first. The man looked pretty well-off. He wore a plaid, button-up shirt, tucked into some nice jeans.

I may have tried to avoid the man altogether. But he may have seen that. So he just walked right in front of me, standing broad-chested, his hands on his hips, as if he were trying to block me from getting near any of the books at all.

I must have done something, because I got past the man, anyway. But I was pissed that the man would try to stop me like that! I started cussing the man out, not loud, but in a regular voice, so he could hear me, but I wouldn't be making a scene.

The man reacted by coming to the bookshelf I was at and bending right over in front of all the books, basically edging me out of the way. He started saying stuff about how he didn't know why I was so upset about what he'd done. But if I was so upset, he'd do it some more. And then, he said, we'd see how upset I got.

I told the man to fuck off, and I walked away from him. He seemed to want to start a fight, because now he was calling kind of loudly after me, "Why'd you have to say that? What'd I do to you?"

But I just decided to walk away from the man and ignore him. I walked around to the other side of the bookshelves and found myself in an area full of shelves and bins packed with vinyl records and comic books. This area almost felt like it was indoors.

I looked around here for a while. I may have found some kind of comic book that I was interested in. It may have seemed a little bit like porn. But I may have decided I really didn't have enough money to waste on something like this, after all.

I was walking out of this section and back out to the promenade. But the exit was a bit narrower now. And another older man was walking up toward the aisle I was trying to get out of.

This guy was kind of fat. He saw me and seemed to want to block my way. He stood and looked at the left shelf of items, blocking up almost the whole aisle. There was also a life-size carboard cut-out of either Superman or Iron Man, which blocked most of the right side of the aisle.

I had to squeeze through the fat man and the cut-out. I'm pretty sure I didn't even touch the man. But he may have turned back to look at me, as if I'd threatened him somehow.

I gave the man a complaisant, friendly smile. But the man just looked at me like he hated my guts. I walked away. I wanted to confront the guy. But I knew that that would only make things worse.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a dark restaurant. The restaurant had a lot of small, black, two-person tables in the main area. I sat at a table there. Off to my left there were some bigger booth tables. Multicolored neon lights seemed to reflect off many of the dark surfaces in the bar.

The two-person seating area was pretty full. A business man sat next to me, at the table to my right. He may have been Asian American, maybe in his late thirties or early forties. He wore square glasses and a kind of plain suit. He had a gentle, easygoing, but mature-sounding voice.

The man asked me why I had left my previous job. I began to list off a whole bunch of complaints about my former boss. The complaints just got worse and worse, and I just got more and more agitated as I listed them. I think the main complaint was that my boss wanted me out of the office, and that he just neglected me and tortured me until I left.

I now noticed that my boss was sitting up in one of the booths off to my left. Red, white, and green light was playing off his face, like a rotating neon sign (or a barber shop pole) was shining on him.

My boss was sliding a grey iPad back into a case. It was almost like the iPad was the thickness of a VCR cassette and that the iPad case was like a VCR cassette sleeve.

I could tell that my boss had heard everything I'd said about him. I was a little ashamed of myself for having spoken bad about him. But I was also glad that he'd heard it. I hoped that it would sink in somehow, and that he'd feel bad.

But I also felt bad for complaining. The business man may have been thinking about hiring me. Now that I'd complained so much, maybe he just thought I wouldn't be a good employee.

My boss was now standing just beside me, on my left. He said, "Hey, I need to talk to you for a second."

I stood up with him and walked toward the center of the restaurant. There was a wide pillar there, around which was a chest-high counter that had a bunch of computer screens (maybe cash registers?) on it. My boss stopped there and spoke to me.

He said "You know, I've been getting the feeling lately that you think I didn't treat you right while you were working for me. And that's just not true. I have a feeling you've been telling people stuff like that. And I really don't want you to."

The way he was saying all this made it sound like he had just come to these conclusions all by himself -- like he hadn't heard me speaking at all just now, and the idea had just popped into his head. I knew he was just trying to impress me by making himself sound insightful enough to guess my moves. But I'd seen him listening to my conversation.

I told my boss, "I saw you sitting there, listening to everything I said! I knew you were there, and that's why I said it! I'm not sorry I said it! You treated me like garbage while I was there!"

(EDIT: I forgot to say that there was also some point where I was even making fun of my boss' voice, doing some kind of high-pitched, flat squealing, with a sheep-like, bleating rhythm. I may have been standing or crouching over my boss while he was laying on the ground. I may even have had his left (?) arm pinned to the ground.)

I was now standing out near the dugout of a baseball field in a park. I was with my boss momentarily, still yelling at him. But my boss eventually changed into my old friend R.

We were actually standing with a group of people, maybe twelve or fifteen of us, all straggled out along a fence that went along from third base to home plate. R and I were standing just beyond third base. At this point, the fence was separated from the diamond by about twenty meters of lawn, and it went up a small slope.

I knew that I had been yelling at R just like I had been yelling at my old boss. But suddenly I felt like R was in control of something in my life. I didn't like R very much, but I felt like I should apologize to him and be nice to him, so that he would stop controlling whatever it was he was controlling in my life, and make things okay for me again.

There had been a little bit of a game going on on the ball field, a game between two semi-competitive teams, maybe teams of little kids. But now the kids were all just milling around the field, clearing off the field.

There was some sort of ceremony that was now being held on home plate. A kind of tall, kind of fat, bald man in a grey suit, white shirt, and reddish tie was presenting somebody to give a speech. The person was another old friend of mine, E.

I only heard one particular phrase from E's speech. I can't remember what it was. But it struck me as attempting to be "folksy," something that would be understood by and sympathized with by all the "common people" around him.

I was kind of sickened by this. When I'd first met E, he was a kind of intellectual guy. He struck me as being a genuinely good person. But the older he got, the more he enjoyed cheating and taunting people. But he still tried to carry off the act of being a good guy. By now, it was all just a horrible charade to anybody who knew him. And his speech was an awful example of it.

Nevertheless, when E finished his speech, I went after him, to go talk to him. I figured that since he'd done something important like give a speech, and be introduced by a man in a suit, that he might be an important guy now. He might be able to help me out in my own difficulties.

E walked over toward the fence, toward a section closer to home plate. I hurried down toward him. I may have reached him and started talking to him, in a really shameful kiss-up kind of way.

Dream #2

I was in some place like a house or a mansion. I was in what looked like a big living room. But I may have been sitting on the left edge of a bed. The room was all made of dark wood. There were no lights on. But a lot of natural light was coming through a doorway, probably a wide doorway into a bathroom.

The bed didn't have any blankets on it, just a white sheet around the mattress and a white sheet over that. The bed may actually have been a hide-a-bed, the kind that pulls out from under the cushions of a couch.

Just off to my right, a guy stood talking. It was as if he were in a commercial, or in some kind of "special features" style mini-documentary for a movie. He, and everything around him, had a gauzy haze, like I was already watching the documentary, and the view from the camera lens, which was in some kind of soft focus.

The guy was some famous director. He looked like he was from the late 1970s or early 1980s. He was kind of skinny, with hair down just below his shoulders. He wore roundish, black-rimmed glasses and some kind of nerdy-looking suit.

The director had a kind of high, but full voice, so everything he said sounded a little pompous, and a little more like singing than talking.

The director was talking about his future plans. But he didn't really seem to have any. He may have mentioned that he'd done a lot of work already, and that he now planned to just spend time with his family, to re-charge a little.

The director said that the thing that ruined a lot of creative people nowadays was letting themselves get too overrun by taking on too many tasks. Their work was cheapened, and the artists would get burnt out. The director said that he was going to try not to let this happen to him.

I stood up and walked toward the bathroom, still hearing the director, as if he were speaking directly into my head. The director may have started talking about the French filmmaker Francois Truffaut's career as an example of burning out. I may have seen some black and white photos of Truffaut, intercut with solid views of lavender color.

I now stood in the bathroom, looking down into the bathtub. I was thinking of taking a shower. But there was a little reddish dirt or grime ringing the side of the tub and dusting up the floor of it.

I was kind of grossed out by this. I wondered how a bathtub could be so poorly taken care of in such a rich house as this. I may have thought I'd clean the tub. But I also may have thought that I just wouldn't take a shower.

Dream #3

I was in a house with my sister. I was in the living room, and my sister was in the kitchen. Both rooms were small, so even though we were in two rooms, it felt like we were hanging out together. The living room had no lights on, but light came into it through the kitchen.

I had been sitting on the couch, probably watching a movie on a TV that stood on an entertainment center just off to my left. But now I stood up and walked into the kitchen. My sister was sitting at the kitchen table, doing something -- maybe writing, or coloring in a coloring book, or doing something on her phone.

At some point my sister may have turned into a blonde girl I knew in high school, though she may have been college-aged.

I told my sister that I was going to take a shower. She said okay. But she then mumbled something about the university I'd attended. I didn't understand what my sister had said. So I asked her to say it again. Again my sister just quickly mumbled something about the university I'd attended.

It was like my sister was giving me news about the university. But it was more like she was sharing her reactions to the news with me. She already expected me to know what the news was. And if I didn't know the news, she would just figure I was pretty stupid.

This was even more the case -- at least in my mind -- because my sister had been told the news by a man that she was attracted to.

This man was maybe ten years older than I. He was big and strong and probably involved in business in some way or another. If this man could outdo me with his knowledge, through my sister, my sister -- I thought -- would feel like she didn't need to respect me, or even treat me nicely, anymore.

So after I'd determined that my sister had really mentioned something about news regarding the university I'd attended, I just said something really non-committal, like, "Yeah, it's pretty crazy, right? I can't believe it," and then walked to the shower.

I walked down the dim hallway and into the dark bathroom. I didn't turn any lights on. I closed the door. I must have stripped out of my clothes, too. I now figured I would look at my phone, try to get whatever news I could about my old university, and, while I was showering, think up some responses to give my sister.

When I turned on the news, though, I found a web page that said that the house of famous actress Barbara Steele had caught fire. Apparently Barbara Steele (an actress famous for her roles in Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 and David Cronenberg's Shivers) nowadays lived in my old university town.

The news article showed a picture of Steele's house. But the photo was from the roof of the house. The roof, actually, took up almost all the photo. And the main focus of the photo seemed to be a small array of solar panels that now seemed to be sinking down through the roof.

There may also have been snow on the roof, and there were a few men on the roof, apparently in the middle of putting out the fire. The house seemed like it was just a regular, suburban house in a regular, suburban neighborhood, not a big mansion one would expect a movie star to live in.

The news article said that Barbara Steele had been in the fire, and that she'd been rushed to the hospital. It seemed to imply that she'd died. But I couldn't really determine whether that was true.

I figured this must have been the article my sister had been talking about. My sister would know how much I loved Barbara Steele. So she probably would have wanted to discuss with me any news she'd heard about her. I started thinking of responses to give my sister about the article.

But now I could hear (and maybe even see, in my mind's eye) my sister and the older man talking with each other. My sister was telling the older man that I seeemed to be going through some sort of difficulty. My sister even seemed to imply that I'd lost or was lacking something, as if the older man might help me get a replacement.

I was a little upset that my sister had told the man all of this, especially since my sister and the older man already seemed to be planning with each other how they could make me feel less intelligent than they were.

But I was also relieved. I knew I was missing something. And maybe the man could help me find it. I figured that once I got out of the shower I'd approach the man very humbly and ask him to help me.

But now I saw a strange image. It was a cartoon, or a comic book. A little girl had knocked on a door (her own front door?). A man, maybe the girl's dad, had answered the door. The man let his wife know that the girl was at the door.

But something about what the man said made me realize that the man and girl were going to have sex. They had probably already had sex in the past. It was like the man and the little girl were in love with each other.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a living room with a couple people I knew. One of them may have been my mother. I sat on the couch, which was positioned, it seems, in the middle of the living room, so that I was looking, to my left, into a hallway.

Somebody just next to me, on my left. This person may have been my mother. Another woman walked up to us and sat on a wooden chair that was just beside the couch. The woman was really tall and skinny, with pale skin and dark red hair. I was really attracted to her.

The woman started talking to the other person on the couch about how she'd met some guy she really liked. The guy was really sensitive and caring, and he always knew the right thing to do for the woman, or the right thing to give the woman.

This whole time, the woman may have been looking at me. The woman may have thought, in the past, that I liked her. She may have liked me as well. But I had been so ambiguous with her that she had finally given up on me. But it seeemed like even now, talking about this guy, she thought there was hope for her and me.

But the woman was still talking about the guy. She said the guy had brought her a cake the other day. The woman said the cake was a special kind of cake, something like a wedding cake. But it had blue frosting instead of white. The only white was the trim. I saw the cake in my mind's eye. It was actually pretty beautiful.

As the woman spoke about this cake, her eyes lit up, and I could tell that she really did think the man was romantic.

Dream #2

I walked into a movie theatre. The theatre was kind of small and a little bit worn-out looking. But it had stadium seating and big, cushiony chairs.

The movie was just about to start. But everybody was just filing in. Everybody here was really old and a little bit eccentric or crazy. Everybody also seemed to know each other. They were all talking with each other easily, asking about their lives.

I went to a seat a couple rows back from the front, toward the right wall of the theatre. As I was getting ready to sit down, a very pretty, professional-looking woman sat in the row behind me. Some of the people seemed to know her, though not so well, and they greeted her.

The woman seemed to be attracted to me. I was attracted to her. But I was too shy to try to flirt with her. But we may have spoken a bit, maybe about the film's director, about whom the woman didn't know very much.

The movie, or the previews, may now have been beginning. I was getting ready to sit down in the chair. But I suddenly realized that the seats in front of me had such tall backs that once I sat in my own chair, the back of the seat in front of me would be blocking half my view of the screen!

I realized this was because the ramping upward of the stadium seating didn't begin until one or two rows behind where I was right now. So I figured I'd move back a couple of rows. But I didn't want to move back behind the woman. This might make her feel like I was trying to avoid her. I definitely wasn't.

The woman, who may now have been sitting with her husband: a man about fifty or sixty years old -- and who herself may now have been about fifty or sixty years old -- asked me if my seat was alright.

I didn't want to look like I was picky about my seats. So I said my seat was alright. To get a full view of the screen I just sat on the arm of the seat, instead of sitting in the actual seat. The arm of the seat had had its cushioning torn off, and it was just a ridged, black rectangle of metal, about the size of a brick.

The movie began. It may have been from the 1970s. The opening scene may have been very colorful, with titles in lavender lettering flashing on the screen. There was also a narrator who spoke either in French (while English subtitles ran across the bottom of the screen) or in English with a French accent.

Dream #3

It was the time of the U.S. Civil War. A man from the Southern states had decided that the cause of the South was unjust. He decided he was going to stand against the South's decision to enter into war.

The man was white, tall, pale-skinned, bald on most of his head, but with unruly, long, red-brown hair along the sides and back of his head, and a long, kind of thin, red-brown beard. He wore a military uniform, it seemed to me, of a very dark blue color (which would be funny, if he was in the South *and* against the war).

The man's community decided to turn against him. I could hear a group of older men, probably about the man's age and older, conspiring against the man.

As I heard the men speak, my view became a bird's eye view of a modern-day warehouse, or a really big garage for semi-trucks. It was a sunny day. The big garage was beige-walled and brown-roofed, and seemed to be made all out of sheet metal.

The conspiring men were saying something like, "There's two kinds of people in the South: the yas'sahs, and the no'sahs." (Which meant "yes sirs," and "no sirs.") "The yas'sahs are on our side. The no'sahs are against us. And this man is a no'sah. If he isn't a no'sah, he's a friend of the no'sahs. And it's time we taught him a lesson."

The doors of the big garage opened, and three vehicles drove out of it. These vehicles seemed to have the rectangular shape of semi-trucks, but the size of garbage trucks. But they were all a dull, silvery grey, featureless, and smooth-looking, as if they were all built in one piece, except along the edges, which seemed to be barred with chrome tubing.

These trucks were made for causing trouble for people who were on the side of the no'sahs. They would go to the locations where the individual no'sah either lived or worked, and do something malicious to him, his living space, his work space, or his vehicle.

Each person had something different done to him. I can't remember what the first bad thing done was. But it involved the vehicle removing a part of its body, like it was just an outer shell, and causing that thing to transform into some means of destruction.

After that, either one or all three of the trucks went to a parking lot that held a few trailer-less semi-trucks. One of the vehicles now took off its "shell" and transformed it. It transformed into something that looked like a second front for one of the semi-trucks.

The shell was a pale silver-grey, and it didn't fit onto the semi-truck very well. It kind of sat diagonally. But this was intentional. The shell was supposed to block the truck driver's view so he would get into a wreck.

The truck driver now appeared. I don't know whether he was aware of the shell. But he drove the truck anyway. He backed his truck out of the parking space. Immediately he noticed troubles with his field of view, and also possibly with the actual ability of the truck to drive.

But the truck driver, clunking and chugging forward, barely seeing anything, decided he'd do the best he could. He drove out onto a street that was so packed with cars it was almost at a standstill. Tall buildings crowded over both sides of the street.

The truck driver was in a tight space, and he could barely see. But he knew these streets well, and he decided he'd just drive by instinct. If he trusted his instincts, based on his memory of the streets, he could get through anything.

And he was doing well. He turned right around of corner and disappeared out of my field of view.

I caught a glimpse of a sign over a shop on the corner of the street. The sign was made out of some kind of turquoise-painted, ridged steel. There were big, white letters on the sign. It gave the name of some bank, I think, Mc-----. I recognized the bank and the sign as being key landmarks for anybody familiar with this town.

I now knew that I was watching a movie. I thought to myself that the film makers had done a good job of giving an idea of what city this truck driver was in. They didn't put too much detail into it: just enough to give people a sense of the place, by using broad, general landmarks.

The movie scene changed, showing the effect of the attacking trucks on another person. The scene showed a female news reporter, speaking to the camera, giving a special report from one of the city's streets.

The view was from the news camera's point of view. But the camera view was really low, like the cameraman was in the street and crouched down really far. The news woman kept walking, sidestepping, along the sidewalk, while addressing the camera.

I knew that the trucks had attacked another man by making him crazy. He was a kind of tall, skinny white guy with frizzy brown hair and a kind of balding forehead. But he had now gone crazy, and he was running through a park (Central Park?) naked, possibly giving his money away.

The news woman was reporting on the man. But, like everybody else, she didn't know anything about why this man had gone crazy. She was just reporting that this man was dangerous. Apparently there was a risk that this man would attack people and take their money.

And now the news woman was interviewing a woman who had been attacked by the man. The woman had apparently agreed to the interview. But now she was just walking as she was talking. She was walking faster than the news woman, like she just wanted to get away from her.

The woman was white, with blonde-brown hair, fair skin, and blue-green eyes. She wore a grey sweater, and she had a green sweater wrapped around her shoulders. She also wore tight blue jeans.

The news woman asked the woman how the crazy man's attack had affected her. The woman replied that the man had taken everything she'd had on her. The news woman asked what this meant for the woman. The woman could only reply, "I'm done. I'm done."

The woman had now gotten far enough away from the news woman that the news woman stopped following her. The news woman had, apparently, stopped walking.

But the camera was no longer focused on her. Instead, it was focused on the window of a Sony store. The window was black, except for a big flat-screen TV that was showing colorful imagery.

The news woman explained that what the woman meant by, "I'm done, I'm done," was that she was completely broke. She had no money left, and she had been unemployed for a long time. She couldn't survive in the city anymore. She'd probably have to go back home.

Dream #4

An older man and his middle-aged son were sitting, apparently, in an airplane. But this airplane was more like a private airplane than a commercial one. The two men sat on a bench-like seat against the wall of the plane. Their backs were to a long but short window.

The son, who was a tiny bit overweight and had a white beard and white hair, was playing with an iPad. The father, who was very skinny, clean shaven, and had his white hair in a short, square haircut, had a bunch of newspapers on his lap.

The father addressed a camera (my view). The father said, "You know, I like the iPad. And it gives me... about... ten percent of my news for the day. But for the rest of my news, I still trust the newspaper more. Why, look at this!"

The father opened up the newspaper and began flipping through it, illustrating how easy it was for him to find the news he was looking for in all the right places. But as he was doing this, the newspaper got more and more jumbled up.

In the meantime, the son, who kept trying to get the father's attention, was scrolling really quickly through all the news, apparently on the New York Times app for the iPad.

The father was now trying to illustrate how easy it was to find something like stuff to buy from a store, or movie times, or stuff to buy out of classified ads. But he was getting really frustrated, because he couldn't actually find anything.

In the meantime, the son had found exactly what the father had been looking for on a website like a mix between the New York Times and Amazon.com. He was scrolling down to the exact thing the father wanted, and clicking on it to buy it.

As the father was getting really frustrated with the newspaper, the son called out something like, "About to buy it, right now!"

The father stopped talking and looked at the iPad. The camera view closed in on the iPad. The son seemed to be looking at a list of books. He tapped on what he wanted.

But the son wanted three of this item. So he had to click on a special word, in a three- or four-line-long list of words. As he did this, he said, "Now, let's see here. What's that process called again? Ah... filchering."

The son clicked on "filchering" and bought three items of the product his father wanted. The father was amazed! That was so fast! The father said, "Why, with that machine, you can buy things so much faster than you can buy things with a newspaper!"

The son, as the father spoke, was just smiling at the father with a weird, open-mouthed, fat-tongued expression, like a panting dog would give its master, not for being good, but for doing something really annoying.

Good morning, everybody.

For anybody interested in time and dreams, I'm pretty sure that the first dream took place in less than one minute. I woke up to a police siren, fell asleep, had the dream, and woke up to another siren.

Dream #1

I was walking through a museum, along a second floor balcony overlooking a first floor kind of atrium area. It was probably night, and it seemed like more than half the lights in the museum were turned off. I may have been looking down to the first floor, to a few glass-cased displays along one of the walls.

I was now listening to some man, who was supposed to be the father, Bill Loud, from the 1971 reality show An American Family. But the man sounded a bit younger and a bit meaner than Bill Loud. He was complaining to someone about how one of his sons, probably Lance, was too into museums.

The man complained that now the son wanted the man to go to the museums with him. But the man said, "God, what makes him think I'm interested in going off to see a bunch of tropical colored, electrical fish?"

I now sat at a dining table at the back end of the balcony area. This part of the balcony extended, it seemed, into the main part of the second floor. There may have been a number of tables here. The table I sat at was long, able to seat eight or ten people. But the only other person at the table was Lance Loud, who sat directly across from me.

We sat mostly in darkness. The only light seemed to be coming from a kitchen area, behind me and maybe twenty or thirty meters away.

I had looked down to the first floor at some point. It was now like a movie theatre, including a ground level and a balcony. And it was packed. I knew now that the creators of An American Family had come out with a new documentary, possibly further documenting the life of the Loud family.

I thought of the creators of America as Frederick Wiseman, the great documentary filmmaker. But apparently Wiseman was actually twins. There were two Wisemans.

Lance was here for the premiere of the new Wiseman documentary. But it was kind of against his will. He kind of resented the Wisemans. He felt like the An American Family reality show had ruined his family. The Wiseman twins knew that Lance felt that way. And they resented Lance as well.

Lance was busy complaining to me about the Wiseman twins when they walked past us, heading toward a stairway down to the movie theatre.

The Wiseman twins looked nothing like Frederick Wiseman. They looked more like short versions of the psychic researcher Russ Targ. They had puffy, curly, grey hair, though most of their forehead was bald. They were square-faced, though their faces were a bit wrinkly. One of the twins wore a white sweater. The other one wore a black leather jacket.

As the twins passed us, one of them made a kind of rude remark to Lance in a deep, gravelly, but loose and relaxed kind of voice. The twins knew Lance didn't want to be here, and the twins didn't want Lance to be here.

But one of the twins saw that I was sitting with Lance. He had walked to the top of the staircase. But now he turned around and came back to Lance. In a relaxed, but courteous tone he told Lance, "We're having a ----- after the show. You're more than welcome to come."

The twin walked away. Lance said, really loud, so the twin could hear him, but in such a way as to sound like he was talking only to me, "Oh, like I'd actually want to go to something like that!"

The ----- was something like a viewing of behind the scenes clips from the documentary. This was supposed to be of great interest to a lot of the people who had been involved with the film.

Dream #2

There was a man in maybe his forties who was the father of a girl in her early twenties. The father had had the chance on a couple occasions to be around the girl's circle of friends.

The father felt like it was possible that one of the men in this group would want to marry the girl. The father didn't quite feel comfortable about this. The men seemed either like total screw-ups or like people who would kind of treat the girl in a mean way.

But the father decided that he needed to get to know the guys better before he jumped to such conclusions about them.

The father was now standing out on a driveway in the late afternoon. The father was white, with tan, tough skin and a square haircut of grey and white hair. He wore a white polo shirt. He was in shape, if not actually even muscular.

The father thought it was a stroke of luck -- one of the girl's friends, the one, it seemed, the girl was most interested, was standing in the driveway as well. The father could get to know the guy.

The guy was now standing before the garage. The garage door was open. An incandescednt light lit the garage. There was no car in the garage. But at the very front of the garage was a small shelf, on which sat a few doll-like girls' toys.

The guy was standing there, staring at the doll-toys and giggling to himself. I was kind of concerned for the boy. I felt like the father might think the guy was some kind of pervert for being so interested in girls' toys. But the father didn't feel that way. The father just thought the guy was artistic, interested in these toys for an artistic reason.

The father walked up to the guy to talk to him. The guy was a bit shorter than the father. He was pale white, about half bald, with short, disarranged hair on the rest of his head. He was a little chubby, and his flabby cheeks were dotted with stubble. He wore chunky, square eyeglasses and a too-big, blue-green t-shirt.

The guy, sensing the father behind him, turned around, while still giggling at the girls' toys. He found himself face to face with the father.

But the guy didn't feel he needed to acknowledge the father at all. He kept giggling about the toys, then turned off and to his right, walking toward and then into the front door of the house.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a dressing room with a woman. The dressing room was maybe three meters long and two meters wide. It had thick, pale carpet and dim, incandescent lighting. I stood before a mirror that folded in three.

The woman, who was something like a shop worker, stood to my right. She was really attractive. She was a tiny bit taller than I. She may have been Asian. She had long, black hair and a curvy body.

She wore a cream colored blouse that showed off a lot of her skin -- the blouse was probably split really low down the chest. She also wore a very tight, maroon colored miniskirt with horizontal folds in it. The woman had an ornate tattoo running down her chest. She may also have had tattooed arms.

The woman told me I looked good in whatever it was I was trying on. For some reason, I felt like this meant she was attracted to me. I was attracted to her. I couldn't resist her. I turned to her and embraced her around the waist with my right arm.

The woman didn't seem to try to break away from me, even though I think we both knew this was probably not something we should be doing. I was feeling the electric charge of sexual arousal. I bent my head to the woman's face and began kissing her softly.

Dream #2

It was night. I had just come out of some building and found myself in a little courtyard area. The courtyard area was completely open to the sky, but it was set below street level. Everything in this courtyard was made out of reddish stone, maybe sandstone.

I walked up a wide, shallow staircase that went up to street level. As I did, some scary guy may have approached me for money. As I got to street level I thought I'd have to be careful. It was so dark out here. People like the scary guy could follow me without my easily noticing them.

I walked up into and across the street. I was obviously in the business section of a big city.The city was really clean. The streets were lined with trees.

I wondered, though, how everything in the city could actually be this dark. It was like there were no, or barely any, lights on at all. The sky was a deep, dark blue, but it seemed to provide some illumination. And there may have been orange street lamps shining from somewhere. But everything else was dark.

I then realized or remembered that there had been a power outage in the city. I was now in a living room with a young man and woman. The living room was lit, as normal, and the TV was on.

The young woman was, somehow, preparing the young man to be interviewed by some news reporter regarding his experience of the power outage. The man would know when he was supposed to do the interview by some signal from the TV. He would then travel somewhere to be interviewed.

Dream #3

My view of this dream was weird. It was often as if I were watching a TV show on an old TV screen. But the TV screen was all fuzzy and seemed to be tipped over at an angle.

The show playing seemed to be taking place in the early 1970s. A wife may have been trying to get a divorce from her husband. But the wife also wanted to be able to do something for her son, like send him away somewhere, maybe out to the southwestern or western United States.

The husband was sitting on the couch. He looked like a young business man, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. He wore a business suit with a white shirt and a green tie with thin, widely-spaced, yellow stripes. He had a short, but almost bowl-shaped haircut.

The wife had said that son wanted to do something particular, but I can't remember what. The husband made some kind of mocking comment about what the son wanted to do, but said that the wife could go ahead and run off with the son out west to go do whatever it was the son wanted to do.

As the husband was making his remark, the scene changed to some place like a building out in the old west, like a storefront in a small town in a John Wayne movie. The view was really close-in on the storefront. A few people stood in front of the building. They may all have been wearing Hollywood-style old west clothes.

It was now a few years later. The son was now twelve, or possibly thirteen, years old. The wife was having the son prepare for the father's arrival. The son and wife hadn't seen the father in all these years. I was looking forward to the husband seeing how well the son had developed in these few years.

The son was out somewhere, playing with a few of his friends on some tree near a wooden fence. The son wore a backwards baseball cap, a kind of baggy t-shirt, and a backpack. He was fair-skinned, with red cheeks.

The son thought he would show his father a trick he could do on the tree. He thought this trick would show the father how well the son really was doing in his life.

The son climbed up the tree using small tree limbs. These limbs were barren and not very long. But they were maybe five centimeters in diameter, and they were coming out of the left side of the tree all over the place, thickly, from the base of the tree, all the way up the trunk.

The boy then climbed down the opposite side of the tree. It may have been more like sliding down the tree. Growing out of this side of the tree were something like roots, or very, very skinny and short branches. The boy seemed to believe that he could get a foothold in these little tangles. But he couldn't.

By this time, the son and wife were wondering where the father was. He should have arrived by this time. Then, suddenly, the mother had news on the father. He was in trouble. He may have been in a nearby hospital. He may have been near death. The son and wife would have to go to see him right away.

The scene changed to a vehicle like an SUV-type vehicle driving down a snow-covered road at night. I could really only see the front passenger side tire of the vehicle, and a tiny bit of the surrounding body. There were also flashing yellow and red lights reflecting around the car in the deep snow.

I knew that the father had been in some kind of really bad car accident. He may have been near the point of death. He may actually still have been out on the road.

I was now in a bedroom, possibly with one or two kids. I myself may have been a kid, maybe ten or eleven years old. We were watching something on a computer.

I then found an old commercial for Chips Ahoy! cookies. The commercial seemed to have been made in the late 1960s or early 1970s. The commercial showed various kids' faces in front of some backdrop that was lit by a bunch of brightly colored spotlights. The kids all talked about how much they liked Chips Ahoy! cookies.

Later, a frame was put around this view. It was a crude, greyish box, almost like something out of a very rudimentary computer graphics design. At the bottom of each frame was the kid's name.

I noticed that one of the kids was named Wernher von Braun. I thought, Hey, isn't that guy a Nazi? The kid was kind of chubby. He had pale, green eyes and a square buzz-cut. He wore a striped t-shirt.

I felt like I might risk some trouble for myself if I acknowledged too strongly (even mentally) that I knew this Wernher von Braun kid was a Nazi. He even seemed to be looking at me strange from the computer screen.

Suddenly the kid changed again. But it was the same kid. Only this time, the name at the bottom of the frame was Marilyn Monroe. The kid's face suddenly bulged out at the cheek, then bulged out at the head. The eyes seemed smashed down. The ears became enormous.

I got the idea that someone was trying to make some kind of joke about how Marilyn Monroe would have gotten big and fat had she lived to be old, anyway.

The kid's face went back to normal, and another name appeared at the bottom of the frame. The kid's face started to become all distorted again. This time the eyes may have bulged out.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was watching some kind of documentary or TV show about a man who had some kind of really bad disease. But I was also, somehow, in the scene, helping the man. The man's disease may have been terminal.

The man was really overweight. He had dark olive colored skin. He wore a running cap and a white, long-sleeved shirt. The man and I may have hugged or something like that. The man seemed to be really grateful that I had been helping him.

There was another scene that I'm pretty sure I wasn't in. It was more like watching a TV show. The man was standing outside, embracing a girl with his right arm. The girl was probably the man's daughter. The man and daughter were surrounded by news reporters.

The man mentioned something about his appearance. It looked awkward somehow. This was, the man explained, because he was going through sex-change therapy. The chemicals he was taking were giving him a more "feminine" appearance.

I wondered why the hell this guy was taking chemical sex-change therapy at this time. He was apparently dying from a disease. Plus, he had to take all kinds of chemicals in hopes of getting rid of this disease. Now he was taking chemicals for a sex change? It seemed like too much for his body.

Dream #2

I was in a living room with my brother. We were probably watching TV. I was laying on the floor. My brother sat on the couch.

My brother told me, "Sit up and give me the device."

As if I had no will of my own, I sat up, as if to get my brother the device he'd mentioned. My brother seemed to gloat about this. He knew he had the power to control people's minds and actions.

I told myself my brother wasn't really controlling me, and that I would get him the device, just to show that I liked my brother and I wanted to help him.

The device was up on the top of the entertainment center in which the TV sat. It may have been just to the right of a VCR or a DVD player.

The device was some sort of rocket shaped like a stick. But its propulsion mechanism wasn't an explosive. It was like a clear lens that used some kind of electronic process.

My brother had attached a camcorder to the rocket. He was going to film what the rocket did. The rocket and the camera together looked like a bottle rocket.

The rocket was made only for destructive purposes. I knew that my brother's first use of this rocket was going to be to crash it into the face of some woman on a TV news program.

In my mind's eye I saw the rocket crash into the newswoman's face. The rocket may have lodged itself pretty deeply into the newswoman's head. It had to be pulled out. When the rocket was pulled out, I may have seen a view of the newswoman's mutilated face.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was standing in a corridor that looked like it had a wheelchair ramp built into it. The wall I faced was a window wall, extending all the way down the corridor. There may have been a hairpin turn along the wall to get to a tiny, glass-walled space before the exit door.

I probably stood right at the door, inside the building. Outside stood a family. They were all telling me goodbye. The family was white, kind of well-off-looking. There were an older dad, probably a mom, and a bunch of other people.

There were two little girls in the family, and I may have been attracted to the littler one. She may have been five or six years old.

I took some chance to hug the little girl. I had a feeling that if I hugged her, we could both share our feelings of attraction for one another in some secret way. I was sure she was attracted to me, too. But I didn't want to get in trouble for showing my feelings.

Later on I may have been in some cafe. I may have been sitting at a table with a white boy. The table we sat at was against a wall. I sat on one end of the table so that the wall was to my right. The boy sat at the adjacent end, so that he faced the wall.

He was probably gay. He was tall, kind of pretty. He had his hair shaved really close on the sides and then kind of flowing on top. He wore a grey jacket, and he may have had the collar of the jacket turned up.

The boy was kind of stuck-up, it seemed to me. I was pretty sure he hated me. I didn't want to bother him. But I was also kind of angry that he acted so stuck-up. I felt threatened, and I wanted to prove somehow that I wasn't threatened.

I was now back with the family at the door. The older sister was now talking to me. The older sister was maybe ten or eleven years old. She had blonde-brown hair and tan skin. She wore a white skirt and a turquoise tank-top.

The older sister told me that the little sister had gotten sick or something, so she couldn't hug anybody. So the older sister would have to hug me instead.

I knew that the older sister was attracted to me. I knew that she thought if she could just get a chance to hug me, she'd make me attracted to her instead of to her little sister.

I hugged the girl. She wasn't skinny, but her body, around her waist, felt strong. I did feel like I was attracted to her. But I didn't want her family to know. I didn't want to get in trouble.

I walked out the door with the family. I either held hands with the older sister or managed to do something with her like lift her up onto my shoulders, so she was riding on my shoulders.

Everybody in the family seemed pretty happy. For some reason, I asked the girl something either like, "If you knew this was the last day of your life, what would you do?" or, "If this were the last day of your life, could you truly say you've died happy?"

I was now back in the cafe with the tall, white boy. I had apparently asked him some question as well. He was writing something in a notebook. His handwriting was mostly capital letters, very blocky, in something like black, felt-tip pen. But he was also answering me. I had a feeling that he was finally coming around to liking me.

Then another boy sat across the table from me. He had olive skin and black hair, with his bangs kind of spiked down a bit over his forehead. He wore a brownish sweatshirt. He also seemed to be gay.

The first boy had at some point gone to open the door of the cafe so that some cool air could flow in. But the second boy sat next to the thermostat. He turned up the heat.

The first boy asked the second boy if he'd turned up the heat. The second boy said he had. It wasn't clear whether he'd done it because the open door was making him cold or because he wanted to keep the heat at a level that was sure to annoy the first boy.

The first boy stood up to go close the cafe door, assuming that if he did that, the second boy would turn down the thermostat. But as he stood up, the first boy said to the second boy, "You know, I'm really beginning to despise you."

I'm in England in a busy downtown disctrict. I have no idea how I got there but I know that I must get to the airport so I can get home. I wander the street for a long time but I cannot find my way out of the downtown area and seem to be going in circles. A red double decker bus comes along and I get on it, thinking it will take me to the airport, but instead it goes toa huge shopping mall and drops everyone off.

I go into the shopping mall and wander around a bit. I pass a two storey McDonald's resturant that is closed and dark. There is a museum in the center of the mall that is showing ancient chinese art. Some of the art are sculptures of giant leaves done in jade and a green crystal stone, though some of the leaves are missing peices like parts of them have corroded or rusted off like it was made of metal.

When I leave the museum I am in the basement floor of the mall and for some reason I am in my pajamas. I am feeling hungry and head for the food court, which is on the far side of the basement floor of the mall. Many of the fast food resturants are places I have never heard of serving food I have either never seen before or do not like. There is a Burger King and a Diary Queen, but they are closed for some reason.

I order a hot drink from one of the resturants (coffee I think?) and as I am waiting for it to be prepared I see my dad and my eldest brother appear in line for the same resturant. I am happy to see them and hope that they will take me home. At first they don't respond to me, then later say that they are not here for me and we get into an argument about something.

I cannot remember how this dream ends, but I woke up feeling so upset that I was nauseated.

I finally had a dream not involving college. Hooray!

I dreamed that members of my dad's church had put him "on trial" for some reason, and were holding the "trial" at the church where I grew up. I sat next to my dad, who was seated in front of the congregation, to show my support.

My uncle who died last year made a surprise appearance in the front pew, and he started yelling at the pastor who was leading the "trial", and calling him out on a lot of crap. This led to a bit of an uproar, and Dad and I just sat uncomfortably. Eventually the chaos died down. Dad was found guilty of...something, and led away to holy jail or whatever. I have no idea. I tried to voice my anger, but my voice wasn't working.

What was really interesting about this dream was that I would wake up in real life, drift back to sleep, and be back in the same dream. One minute I'm awake, and the next minute I'm talking with my dead uncle. It was really interesting. I think I can use this to help induce lucidity.

I dreamed that my two brothers, my father, myself (at a younger age then I am now) and a few other men I do not recognize were by the sea side somewhere warm. There were no roads but narrow chanels for small boats and canoes to navigate.

My dad tells me and one of my brothers that he and the other men are going a head in another boat and leave me and R in the first boat. R makes me sit in the back ignores my complains that the back of the boat is sinking. I was arguing with him to let me sit up front but he ignored me and soon i'm up to my waist in water. My father and my other brother came along in another boat and got into ours. All the older and heavier men were sitting at the front of the boat, yet is was only sinking and below water at the back where I was sitting.

After complaining and whining I finally convinced my father to let me switch places with them and they all went into the back and I went into the font. The back of the boat suddenly became boyant and the front of the boat sank and I could not lift it above the waterline to help steer. I remember feeling angry and frustrated and sick of it all, like I expected this to happen all the time and I was tired of it.

Eventually I found a small boat of my own and got out of my father's and brother's boat and tried to make my way through the maze of channels on my own. My both didn't sink this time, but I had no control and would often get pushed backwards by incoming waves or the tide. Even though I couldn't really go anywhere, I was happier in my own boat for some reason. I remember at the end of the dream missing my mom and wondering where she was, and being upset that I could not get to her because I had no control over my own little boat.