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July 19th, 2010

It's 2:05 AM, and I have gone to bed to sleep.

Its 3:29 AM and I have awoken, my dream not being lucid or controlled, but mostly remembered.

I don't know how I've gotten here, it's somewhere with my friends who I will call Jorge, B, Ricardo and my brother ehalv.

At first we all rush into a white van, which belongs to the "Crips". We discover somehow that crip means "blue". We are all pretty shocked by this for some reason. We hop into the van in a rush. Why we entered the van with no precaution in it being owned by a gang, I don't know. A lingering sense that we we're running away exists. I get in last, already stuffing myself into the car. The first person I see is Ricardo in the front passenger seat. Wether he was there all along or not I don't know. He's asking me if the mosh pit was awesome, and then tells me it was. I shake my head yes. Someone appears to get in the car but we have already begun driving. We're in a hurry. I look behind me, only one kid sits on the left, alone. I notice the kid beside me attempt to hop back to fill the remaining seat and free room in this row. At this time, something out the front window catches my eye and I notice the driver has been distracted. He has veered off course, to his left a little, missing a right hand turn, over a curb and next to a playground. At this point I say "Hell no--AW HELLLL NO! He's on the playground! He missed the turn were on the grass!" and I say a little more, but I can't remember. Everyone laughs at the idea of me saying that in this situation, where I also began in turn giggling. We leave the car at this time, still laughing, someone repeats what I've said. In front of the car to the right is the playground, and several feet ahead of it there are dips, hills petruding in the grass going downward. Almost like giant stairs of grass. The driver says it's okay and that this is where we're supposed to be. I say aloud "It's all good unless the boys come!", or something along the lines. Not seconds later does gunfire erupt behind us. I sense bullets flying past me, as if they were raindrops falling sideways. We hurry to get into the van.

I've woken up.
A flash of a letter written to me on paper or a social networking site says "you used to scare me years ago but ever since i got a ...(taste*) i've wanted another ..." This is all I remember. It is from, who I will call, Rose.

Regret fills my head, as does guilt, for not remembering the rest of the letter, or other important information and other parts of dreams I may have fell into. Although I feel regret, I think it is falsely diagnosed to an event that has never occured before, and in being so, couldn't have affected my social, or in any case, daily life.

The dreams were not vivid. They were more of ideas that grew spontaneously, wildly and with ease, but never seemed to acheive full visual scope. At least, if I'm remembering correctly.

It is 4:06 AM and I return to bed to sleep. In my hand I hold an object. No larger than a chess piece, but considerably heavier.

It is 6:59 AM, I dreamt a little. I find it funny I remember less even though I was asleep for longer.
I hear commotion outside of my bed room. I end up in my breezeway facing outside at the door, I kneel down, I hear people yelling and talking. My friend Justin rides his bike into my backyard, he looks at me and says "I think I got a five", discreetly. He means five dollars. Suddenly they begin talking very loudly and my parents lights turn on, I tell them to keep it down. They panic and Justin hands me a gun. "We found a gun, a real gun, here" he says. I grab it and it feels heavy. Very heavy. I begin to panic as they leave, or dissapear but both are relative. I set it down beside some plants outside and walk back into the breezeway. Through the door in front of me, I see a group gathered. I exit the door back outside, this time into my front yard, and see my oldest brother surrounded by people asking him questions. He seems to have it under moderate control. I ask what it's all about. He says the dog got loose again. Standard procedure. I head inside, my dad is talking to someone about pizza, or food. I end up going downstairs to pee because someone is in the bathroom. A christian man follows me. He needs to pee and pees on the opposite side of the room. I end up not peeing at all and head back upstairs, with a handfull of bacon in my hands.

I'm awoken and the object I had held in my hand before falling asleep is laid side by side next to my phone on my bed. Seemed placed carefully, but I cannot remember doing so.

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

I was chasing a group of people who were threatening to blow up our city. They were far from our sight, way down the path I and a friend were traveling along, but we weren't stopping until they were caught. The location was hilly, with green grass and a pale blue sky, dotted with clouds. We were running along a gray path with brownish accents. This went on for miles, we both knew.

We ran for a few minutes and then, just over the horizon, the group of people we were chasing appeared. My friend, a girl my age who had ginger hair tied up in a ponytail, a few inches taller than me, pulled out a strange-looking gun and began to shoot. We saw three of the people drop dead, but there were still two more. She finished them off easily, too.

I heard one person shout out before dying, however, and I knew the battle wasn't over. After all, they told us, "this isn't over, we still have our secret weapon." Before we could realize what was happening, a huge shadow loomed over us and we looked up to see a massive ship hovering a few yards above us. It had two red doors on the bottom that were tracking us with red light, following us as we walked back and forth trying to shake them off, and we both knew this wasn't good. We were going to die.

"Run!" I told my friend who began to bolt down the field, the opposite direction, away from the people who she'd just killed. I followed her. As we ran, I remembered that I had an explosive device in my pocket. Not one that could kill me, though, but the enemy. I pulled it out and it looked like a regular shiny black ball. I stopped, the ship catching up with me in a matter of seconds, and my friend continued to run for a few moments until she realized I was stopped. She turned around and yelled, "what are you doing?!"

"I'm destroying this ship!" I told her. I took the bomb and looked up, the red lights still tracking me, and realized (somehow) that I had to throw it into the center of the ship where the three blue ovals were. I built up power, as in a video game, for a few moments and then threw it directly where I wanted it to go. It stuck to the ship like a magnet, and I heard beeping. Suddenly, though, one of the red lights opened up. They were doors and lights, I realized.

Two small, cylindrical bombs began to drop out of the ship, one beside the other. The top half of each bomb was navy blue, and the bottom was white. A strip of silver separated the two colors. They exploded on contact and I died.

I was now watching myself from third person, above the ground, similar to the distance the ship was from the ground. As the smoke and fire cleared, I saw ashes on the ground where I used to be standing. I felt myself being pulled up towards the sky, so I had to stop looking down, and I began to accelerate faster and faster. My vision became a pale navy and there were tiny streaks of white light going past me swiftly.

The dream ended.

Morning of May 31, 1975. Saturday.



I am wandering around in an isolated dump (in the sense of being a partial landfill) in the afternoon, that is also somewhat like a junkyard on a couple more external areas. There are steep hills on at least two sides, perhaps three. I get the impression that someone has been building, over a longer time period, a life-sized “robot” or working model of a triceratops from various types of scraps and miscellaneous rubbish, but I am not sure if it will ever be completed. It appears that at least two had already been started, but remain unfinished due to there being a lack of properly shaped junk, thus the projects were abandoned. There is a feeling of desolation, of remoteness. I am not sure if anyone else is around. There may be someone living in an old shack nearby but I never find out much else.