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Good morning, everybody.

Last night I surprised myself by having a minor bit of dream control. I didn't control my dream. But I kind of determined the subject.

Kaomea had posted a few cool songs in her dream journal a few days ago. So I wanted to share one song in particular, too. But I would only do it, I told myself last night, if I had a dream about the song or artist.

The first dream is the result. But I guess -- you can see that it's not very good control at all, though.

Here is the video. It's by the Malaysian rock singer Monoloque.



Dream #1

It was a grey-white, partly cloudy day. I was in a car with some other guy. The guy was driving us through some kind of downtown area of a city. We must have been on the outskirts of the downtown area. It felt pretty quiet and desolate.

There were a lot of warehouses and small factory buildings on either side of the streets. The warehouses either looked closed down or vacated. Their gates were all pulled down. On a lot of the buildings' walls and gates, there were also a lot of posters advertising, I suppose, either rock concerts or movies.

We had driven up a slope, then around a block, then back down another small slope. We were -- or at least I was -- looking down the streets for something. I don't know if we were lost.

The man was talking this whole time about how arrogant the singer Monoloque was. It occurred to me from this that we were looking for the location where we were supposed to pick up Monoloque. We were either going to take him somewhere else, or spend the day with him, like we were collaborating with him on some project.

But the man was really not looking forward to picking up Monoloque. He thought Monoloque was really arrogant.

As an example of this, the man said, "One time Monoloque told me, 'A man hasn't really done anything with his life until he's directed a film.' As if anybody who hasn't directed a film really isn't a man! Well -- this was only right after he'd directed his first film!"

I think I may have seen a tall-spired, stone church in the distance, down the block on the left side of the car. I looked at some of the posters on the wall again. I realized that they were all for Monoloque's film. They were done in a kind of psychedelic, 1960s style, with block printing, big, chunky letters, and a swirly circle of color in the center.

Dream #2

I was in a bedroom. I stood before a dresser. I think I had just pulled something out of it or put something into the top drawer. I was now closing the drawer.

I must have been getting ready to go somewhere, although it turned out that I wasn't going to the place I'd really wanted to go to. My mom was taking me wherever I was now going. And she'd told me she wasn't taking me to the other place.

I looked to my right, to the doorway. The living room, apparently, was right outside this bedroom. There was a couch against the wall opposite from the bedroom door. A young Muslim woman wearing a head covering sat quietly and patiently on the couch. On the wall behind the woman was some beautiful, possibly iridescent, piece of artwork.

I walked out of the bedroom. I was frustrated that my mom wasn't taking me where I wanted to go. But the Muslim girl was so gentle-acting that I tried to mask all my frustration, and just smile gently, as I walked past her.

I was now in some kind of warehouse. The warehouse was huge -- maybe as huge as an airplane hangar. Where I was standing, it seemed like there was a living room set all laid out, with a bunch of stage lights cluttered around it.

My mom stood off to my right, about thirty meters or so away. She seemed really impatient for me to get started with something. She was being really insistent and mean -- almost like my mom had her spirit combined with one of my old shithead co-workers. My mom also seemed a lot skinnier than she is IWL.

I was frightened into doing whatever it was I was supposed to be doing. I turned around. There was something like an entertainment center -- it looked more like a TV and a bunch of other junk all piled up randomly on a cheap desk.

But over that stuff there was a huge tangle of old TV-top antennas. I knew I was supposed to be doing something with these TV-top antennas. But I couldn't reach them from the front of the "entertainment center." I had to go around.

I walked around to the back of the "entertainment center." I walked into the thick of all these old antennas, as if I might have walked into the center of a tall, brambly shrub.

I must have tried to arrange some of the antennas or something. But suddenly some of the antennas started throwing off fountains of sparks! I thought the antennas must all be catching on fire. I was really afraid. But, like an idiot, I think I grabbed a paper cup full of water and actually threw it on the sparking antennas!

Things were really a mess. My mom, madder than ever, called me out to the front area again. The living room, I now saw, also had one setup on either side of it. These setups were like cheap offices: there were a desk, a computer, and a kind of flimsy desktop bookshelf. There may have been a man working at each station.

Things were a big mess. In some weird clutter of technology surrounding the office on my right side, another fire, or some other kind of malfunction, was raging. Whatever I'd done in the antenna-nest had probably started this mess, too.

The person working at that station looked like one of my old co-workers. He seemed to be just about as mad at me as my mom was. My mom may have been standing behind him and on his right side.

I turned around, backwards and clockwise, to face the office station that had been on my left side. The office worker here was just as panicked. He looked like the 1980s actor Andrew McCarthy. He had shoulder-length hair and wore a pale-blue, button-up shirt.

This guy was on the phone with someone. But he was also dealing with some major computer issue he was having. I knew that all this was probably my fault, too.

Finally the guy started slamming his mouse against the desk, as if he were trying to aim it against something. It was like whatever the problem was with his computer, it had turned real and left the computer. The guy was trying to smash it and kill it, or poke it back into the computer, or something. He really seemed to be raging.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out on a stage, just a little bit to the right (my right) of the stage. Back and to my left, the playwright George Bernard Shaw lay in a hospital bed. He was really sick, but he was giving a lecture. I was here either to introduce him or kind of interview him. His voice was really faint and weak.

Now I was leaving the theatre through some backstage area and a backstage door. I was walking through some kind of brick-walled alley. It was daytime.

Suddenly I realized or heard that Shaw was about to die. He knew he was going to die. He had announced that his next lecture would be his last. But that lecture would be today. In fact, it was starting right now! And I had left the theatre!

I had to see Shaw's last lecture. He was my favorite playwright. And I had the feeling Shaw would die immediately or soon after he got off stage. So I had to be there.

I ran back in the door, through the backstage area, and through a small door that led directly onto the stage. The show had just started. A woman had introduced Shaw. Shaw now sat in a nice chair on a green rug. A nice table with a lamp may have stood near the chair. Shaw had just started giving a little speech.

I at first wanted to sit near Shaw on the stage. But since I came in late I didn't feel I deserved to. So I sat off to the right of the stage. In the shadows were some bleachers, which were pretty well filled with people. I sat on the floor on the bleachers, where I thought I would be in view of Shaw, so he'd at least know I'd attended.

The woman asked Shaw some question about religion. Shaw responded a little ramblingly. He then said, "And, yes, I've been in a coven. I've headed a coven."

A little, black boy in a black hooded sweatshirt with thin, widely-spaced, white stripes and sitting in a wooden chair a couple meters to the right of and behind the woman raised his hand.

Shaw pointed to the boy, as if to take his question. He said, "Yes, you. And what's your name, little boy?"

The boy stood up. His face couldn't be seen. He may have been turned around, or he may have had his hoodie on backwards, with the hood pulled up over his face. He said, "Some people call me Lazarus. But you can think of me as Nicodemus."

The boy may have started knocking himself on the top of his head with his right fist.

Dream #2

I was in some room like a school cafeteria. The floors and walls were all white, and there may have been a set of white folding chairs all arranged in a grid, like for a meeting.

But whatever had been going on here was finished, and everybody was leaving. Apparently we'd had a meeting regarding the production of some movie. It wasn't certain the movie was going to be made. But people were feeling a lot more confident that it would.

The leaders of the effort all stood up front, near some long folding tables. There were a few long, plastic coolers. The leaders were kind of clowning around with each other while they packed up their supplies for the day. The leaders all looked South Asian. One of the leaders looked like the Malaysian singer MonoLoQue.

The leaders may actually have been making up some wacky, funny song based on the song they thought would be the theme song for the movie. I tried to join in, but I don't think I was very funny. The leaders were patient with me. But I got the feeling they thought I was being too much of a groupie. So I decided to leave.

I walked down a stairwell in the center of the floor. But as I got halfway down I realized I'd forgotten something upstairs. I ran back up to get it. But I didn't really know what I was doing upstairs and I didn't want the leaders to see me again. So I went back down the stairwell.

About halfway down the stairwell, I realized I had to go back to my apartment before I went anywhere. But my apartment was right near the stairwell. In fact, just in front of the stairwell, right where I stood, was a window to my room. (Off to my left may have been some area like a department store.)

So I swung myself up and bashed through a wooden panel blocking the window to my bedroom. Right before I'd done this I'd seen a tallish, kind of overweight, white man in a red t-shirt and blue jeans walking along some balcony between flights of steps behind me, as if I were now in some kind of apartment building's stairwell.

I broke through my window and rolled onto my bed, then onto the floor. The window seemed to have been open. But I noticed that I'd broken the board, a white-painted board about 33cm high and 1 meter wide, in half.

As I landed on the floor, I heard a woman in the living room go get the door. Oh, I thought to myself, that woman must be my new roommate.

The woman opened the door to the man I'd seen in the stairwell. (I don't know how I knew this, since I didn't see it.) As soon as the woman let the man into the apartment, she yelled, "No! I'm not doing it! I told you I didn't want to be a part of it anymore and I didn't want to see you anymore!"

I thought I should go out into the living room and defend my new roommate. But I was afraid. So I just sat and listened.

The man had apparently been trying to get the woman to be in a movie for a production house he'd just started up. But already the production house was having trouble with censors. The man said, "And this is a movie that, just because you got a few people saying certain cuss words, people wanna make it rated X!"

But the woman had left the man just because he had kept putting her in porn movies. She was yelling at him that she could tell he was getting started going down the same old path, and that she didn't want to be a part of it again. She seemed either to be walking the man to the door or heading out with him.

I sat on my bed and looked at the broken board in my hands. It sounded quiet. Maybe the man was gone, I thought, and I could go introduce myself to the woman. But I was wondering what kind of first impression I'd make with her, suddenly having appeared in my bedroom, and having broken the board on my window. The woman might think I was crazy!

Dream #3

I was sitting in a car with a woman who looked exactly like my mom but was something more like an interviewer or psychiatrist. I sat on the passenger side, and the woman sat on the driver's side. It was daytime. We were parked at the far end of a long driveway in front of a house.

I told the woman, "About the time that my cousin and I were trying to figure out what to do for college --"

The woman interrupted me. "What do you mean? I thought that before, you'd said that your cousin didn't start college until a couple years after you did. How could he be going to college at the same time as you? It doesn't make sense!"

I said, "That's not what I mean. What I said just now was --"

Suddenly something happened, and I knew I had to leave the car and get going somewhere else. My car door had been open all this time. I stood up and walked off to my right. I walked along a stretch of dirt on the shoulder of a road.

As I approached a fence, an adult woman came walking toward, then past me with a bunch of little girls. It was like a school group. Most of the girls were five years old or younger. They were all wearing diapers: some only diapers, some diapers with dresses over them. I was sexually attracted to these little girls.

But there was one little girl, an Asian girl who seemed to be maybe seven or eight years old. She had jaw-length, black hair and was wearing a white dress with thin fabric. It appeared that this girl was also wearing a diaper, though I couldn't tell for sure. I was extremely attracted to this girl.

I passed the fence, and one more adult woman walked along past me, following one last little girl wearing only a diaper. But for some reason, I found myself so sexually attracted to the little Asian girl that I felt like I had to follow her, at least to find out if she really was wearing diapers.

I turned around and headed for the little girls, none of whom I could see now. I knew if I caught up with them and started trying to get close to the little Asian girl I'd certainly be singled out as a pervert. So I was trying to think up excuses for heading back and being near the girls.

I thought that the little girls must have been going to the car to see the woman. Now I was in the car with the woman. She started up the car as I started talking to her. We pulled out of the driveway and drove away.

I told the woman, "You see, my cousin and I were in the same year of school. And we were best friends. So when we got into our Junior year, we both started thinking together about what colleges we'd go to."

The woman had turned right around a corner and was now driving through an alley going past the backyards of houses.

I continued. "But my cousin ended up getting sidetracked. So he didn't go to school right away. He had a terrible childhood! I'd go over there all the time to see him."

The woman now turned right and pulled into the driveway in the backyard of some house like my great grandma's old house.

I continued, "My cousin would be grounded for, like, six months at a time! And he'd just have to sit in his bedroom in the basement for the whole time. Sometimes he'd even have to write thousands of sentences."

I had to leave again. I opened the car door. There were some little girls walking around in diapers in the driveway. I was kind of attracted to them.

As I stood up and turned right, to walk away past the back of the car, I saw that my sister was leaning against the car, almost right in the doorway! She said, "Hey," in a kind of guyish voice.

I hoped my sister hadn't seen me ogling the little girls. But I looked at my sister. She was skinny, in shape, and she wore a blue-sleeved, white t-shirt that really showed off her boobs. I suddenly realized my sister was really attractive!

Dream #4

I walked into a museum with my mom. The lobby was dim and narrow. The ticket counter was some kind of polished, black stone.

We walked up to the ticket person. I was a member at the museum, and the ticket person knew me. But he might not have seen me. My mom handed the man my membership card and said something like, "He's a member."

The man said, "Great," and was about to print a ticket for my mom.

But my mom said, "I'd like three people, and also two children, please."

The man seemed a bit taken aback by my mom asking for so many tickets. I was taken aback, too! I thought I was coming to the museum with just my mom. Who were all these other people coming with us?

I said something to the man. He finally noticed me. He said, "Oh! But you're a member *here*. Why are you trying to get in with this card? This is a MoMA card."

I saw the card in the man's hand and realized he was right. Hoping to avoid him getting suspicious of me -- like he might have thought I was trying to hide the fact that I'd let my membership expire -- I flipped quickly through my wallet, trying to find the right membership card.