All DJ Entries

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was daytime. I was with my mom, out in the middle of the street in what looked like a suburban block of houses. The houses were about average sized, or maybe even smaller than average. But this was apparently one of the blocks (in Hollywood?) famous for the movie stars who resided here.

A male celebrity had just moved in here. There were a whole bunch of people, all gathered on the sidewalk around the man's house -- which was kind of small. The people were all taking pictures of the house. I think they expected the man to come out of the house soon.

But I knew that the houses on both sides of the man were empty. To the right of the man's house, there may actually have been two empty houses.

I knew that a lot of movie stars were out of employment, and that many had had to give up their houses. This neighborhood was becoming desolate. I even wondered why the people in front of the man's house had come here, if all they really had to photograph today was this one man's house.

I started thinking that if these houses were so small, and if the neighborhood was so empty, perhaps the house prices were a lot lower. I thought that maybe if I got a job here, even if it wasn't a good job, I could afford the rent on one of these houses.

I walked down toward one of the houses on the right of the man's house. I must have been trying to see if I could get into the house. I then walked up to one of the houses on the left. I think I actually tried the doorknob on that house.

But my mom -- I think -- got my attention. I think I was trying, in front of my mom, not to look like I was thinking of moving into one of these places. My mom called me across the street, to a house we had been here to visit in the first place.

I crossed the street and walked into the house. As I did, the sky may have been getting really grey. I walked into the house, possibly with my mom.

The house was now my mom's house. I had come into the house with one of my friends. I was in the living room, by myself. My friend and my mom may have been in the dining room or the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a dividing wall.

The living room was dim, unlit, only lit with the light coming from the dining room or kitchen. The living room may also have been really empty.

But there was an entertainment center on the wall to my right. And on that entertainment center there may have been a small pile of mail. I think I took two pieces of mail and hid them under my shirt.

I could hear my mom and my friend talking. At some point I went into the kitchen while my mom and my friend. I thought I'd join the conversation. But they'd left without my seeing them. They were now either in the living room, or standing up in a stairwell up to the second floor. The stairwell was near the entertainment center.

The dining area was kind of L-shaped. The "base" of the L had a dining table. The "side" of the L had a sofa and a kind of long coffee table. The L-shape surrounded the kitchen, which was walled off, I think, from my view.

As I sat on the couch, I could hear my mom and my friend talking. They were actually talking about what a lazy person I was. I sat, curled up on the couch, kind of feeling terrible about myself.

But, for some reason, I thought that my mom would be really impressed by this magic trick I had to show her. I pulled the two pieces of mail out from under my shirt. One envelope was white. The other was black. I thought my trick of the "magically appearing" mail would be pretty cool.

But then I realized, almost as if my friend were telling me this in my head, that my mom would be far from impressed if I pulled her stolen mail out from under my shirt. I was here -- we were both here -- to prove that we were good enough for something or other.

I sat the two pieces of mail on the coffee table, hoping that my mom wouldn't miss them on the entertainment center and would just think she'd sat them on the coffee table. I'd have sat them back on the entertainment center, except that my mom was somewhere near it right then.

Dream #2

It was night. I was standing out in front of a house in a suburban neighborhood. The front yards for these houses were huge, even though the houses themselves were of about average size or smaller.

My mom and I had just arrived, and were walking out of a pickup truck. The house we'd arrived at was set weird, like the front door was on the "right" side of the house, instead of on the "front" side, which would have faced the street. The porch light for the house was on, lighting up a really good portion of the yard with raspy, white, incandescent light.

My mom was getting me set up on the project of trimming a tree or shrub that was in "front" of the house (the side facing the street). She gave me some kind of instructions, and told me why it would be difficult for me to do this.

But before we got to work trimming the tree, my mom built -- almost instantaneously, and all by herself -- a plaster-like dome coming off of the "front-right" corner of the house. She encased us in it as she built it.

It was now built. My mom led me around a kind of dividing wall in the structure. We went through a doorway and were back in the yard. Somehow this dome separated us from the truck. My mom told me something like once I started my job, I couldn't go back, or once I started my job I couldn't go back until I'd finished the job.

I must have grabbed a pair of clippers and got to work clipping the tree. The tree was possibly a weeping cherry. It had drooping, kind of maroon-colored branches. Berries seemed to be growing off of it, more like hawthorn-berries than cherries. They were bright and red.



Hawthorn berries



Weeping cherry

But for some reason, I got distracted from this work and began to fly in the front yard. My flying was controlled by my arms, mostly by the movement of my hands. So if I lifted my hands (clenched in fists) up to my shoulders, I'd lift from the ground. If I stretched my arms way over my head, I'd fly really high. If I shifted my hands to the left or right, I'd move that way as well.

But at some point, I saw my great-grandmother (who IWL passed away a little over two years ago) sitting up really high in something like an oak tree that had no limbs until the high-up limbs in which my grandma sat.

I landed at the base of the tree and looked up to my grandma. My grandma said if I was ----- (something in reference to the cherry tree I'd been cutting), that my real concern should, then, be to trim the -----berry tree.

My grandma pointed across the street, to another tree in the front yard with the cherry tree. This tree was a lot like the tree my grandma sat in. It had bark like a pin-oak tree. But it was really tall, and it didn't have any limbs until way up high on the tree. But I knew that the branches of this tree also bore bright red, hawthorn-like berries.

I was now at the base of that tree. I may have started flying in the front yard again. But now I realized that my mom was no longer here. I may have remembered her saying that she was going to get some more tools, so she could help me trim the trees. But she hadn't come back. I decided to look for her.

I went into the house. It now turned out that I wasn't looking for my mom because she had gone missing after looking for tools. I was now looking for her because she had just come back from getting food for the family from some fast food joint, and she had forgotten to tell me and give me my food.

I saw the bags of fast food on a dining table on the right wall as I entered the house. I may also have seen some other person there, like a childhood version of my little sister. And I probably heard or saw a television blaring somewhere. Something about the atmosphere felt very frenetic.

Just to the left of the table was a door, which I knew was the door to my mother's room. I just thought I'd poke my head in there and ask if it was okay for me to get my food before I grabbed into the bags of food.

But when I opened the door, I saw some young Latino guy making out with some young woman. The guy seemed kind of upset. So I closed the door.

My mindset totally changed. It was like my mom wasn't even around anymore. I was now in this guy's house. This guy had gotten the food. I was working on this guy's trees. And he was in his room, making out with this woman. I felt ashamed for having intruded.

The man called to me from inside the room. I opened the door. The guy was still laying there, half-naked, on this woman, on a couch. He looked up toward me. He had a kind of chubby face and chubby arms. His hair was shaved pretty short. He wore black, Oakley-style sunglasses.

I asked the guy about the food. He told me, sure, just grab my stuff and some fries out of the bag, don't worry about it. After I closed the door and was grabbing my food, I heard the man say to his giggling girlfriend, "Geez. He sure works hard in asking for his food. But he doesn't work hard at any of the work I give him."

I felt bad about what the man had said. I think I felt so bad that I decided not to take any food after all.

I walked around in a room off from the living room. This room also basically looked just like a living room. But the ceilings were really high. There were family pictures dotting the walls, all the way up to the ceiling.

For some reason, I decided to start flying again. I think I had really good control over my flight now. I practiced going up and down and left and right a lot. But then I tried doing some flips. When I'd reach the ceiling, I'd flip or somersault really close to it.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in some large building, like a museum or a student union kind of area. I was on the second floor. To my left was a balcony-like railing that looked out over the first floor. To my right was possibly a dining area.

My old friend Y was standing, leaning against the railing. I hadn't seen her in some time. I was happy to see her. And I was acting (and feeling) like I hadn't expected to see her. But I'm pretty sure I had been expecting to see her, like we'd made plans to meet here.

I walked up to Y and stood beside her, maybe kind of leaning against the railing like she'd been doing. All this time, I felt my mother's presence behind me. I may have heard her voice, too, as if she had somehow planned this meeting between me and Y and was now directing it.

Y was watching a movie that was being projected against the wall opposite the railing. The wall was maybe three stories tall. The projection was hitting the third-floor section of the wall. So we had to kind of look up to see it.

I'm not sure how we saw the movie: the wall was red brick; but the movie showed up just fine, anyway. I think it was a movie that we both liked.

Y and I had had some sort of small conversation. Just the sound of Y's voice made me so happy. I put my right arm around Y, not out of romantic feelings, but just because I was happy to see her again.

But Y was really put-off. She grunted something cold and nasty, even implying that she had some kind of sickness that I'd get by touching her.

She'd done this to me in the past. I knew she was just trying to freeze me out or gross me out so I'd leave her alone. I took my hands off her and watched the movie. We may also have continued talking about something.

Eventually we were planning to "meet for dinner." We walked away from the railing and over to the section of the floor that had dining tables.

But now Y changed into my friend H. H and I sat down at the table to eat. The table was a regular, round dining table, about 125cm in diameter, possibly covered over with a white tablecloth. But it was also crammed, both the table and the chairs, with all kinds of things, like household and personal items.

H and I were trying to sit down so we could eat. All this time I felt my mom's presence behind me. I may also have felt the presence of my old friend R. R's presence seemed particularly bitter.

Eventually I got sat down on a seat. But I was only halfway sat in the seat -- the rest of the seat being cluttered with stuff. I guess that H couldn't find any other place to sit. So she tried to sit on my lap. But something about my lap was making it really awkward for her to sit.

H was wearing a grey mini-skirt and a black shirt. But the mini-skirt kept riding up, almost revealing H's panties, as H tried to sit on my lap.

But now it seemed like H was getting into what I thought of then as a "slutty" mindset. She was really getting turned on by the way her skirt was riding up on my lap. Now she started to do it on purpose. She may even have been pulling it up with her hands and then putting it back down.

I might have started getting turned on. And I may have tried to make a move for H. But at this point, she may have gotten up and walked away. I may have been a little bitter about this. But I think I told myself that when H got back, she and I would just forget about it and have a nice dinner.

Last night was okay in terms of recall, so for once I don't have to resort to posting my old dreams. None of these new ones are lucid. Without further ado let's delve into them:

Wind
There's a storm forecasted to come here soon IRL. So tonight I had a dream where I went outside and the winds were really blowing hard already. There was plenty of snow also, as opposed to real life where we haven't gotten much snow so far this winter. So the wind was blowing the snow in the air and the same shed, that almost burned up in the last night's "classic" suddenly blew snow with huge power within it. Yet I walked right into the blowing snow. My brother was around once again and he was like "whoa, dude" because of doing that.

I went back inside and I have no idea why I did that walking thing. Anyway, knowing that the storm had arrived I fully expected that the electricity will go out soon. In the last storm few days ago it was out for a night and the internet was out for full day. So I knew I had to hurry to write my 750 words on 750word.com, so I wouldn't again ruin my streak. I started writing but kept getting distracted.

Crazy Shit
Yeah, that's what I'd title this dream. I was "playing" a game that reminded Dungeon Keeper. Except that it wasn't a game, it was like real life and it was completely fucked up.

My opponent was this wizard guy. He kept creating kittens to fight for him. I know, fucked up. I guess they were meant to level up as they fought battles, I don't know. I took my kitchen knife and started slicing through the kittens. I know, that's brutal. Also doubled-up the fucked-upness.

In the end, I started striking the wizard with that lighting thing from Star Wars, I guess it's called Force Drain. But that was not enough. When I thrust my hips forward, laser beams shot out of my groin and exploded the wizards eyes. I swear I'm not making this up. I can come up with fucked up shit, but nothing near as fucked up as this.

So in the end I beat the wizard and won the battle.

The Cyclist
I was walking in some kind of a camping area. My mom was leading the way of some group. I was with them, but sort of walking on my own behind them. She went to some shack and told that some poor-ass cycling group vacated there.

Soon I was walking away from there alone. Some cyclist that apparently was late from the rest of his group cycled towards me. He was talking on the phone. As he passed me, the handle of the bike hit my shoulder and it hurt.

I got pissed of and told him to learn to drive that bicycle. The guy turned back to look at me and accidentally fell down a steep and deep ditch that was by the road.

I couldn't help but to rub it in the dude. I felt that his falling off there was karma, or something. I went by the ditch told him that he got what he deserved. As I was walking away from the ditch, the soft sand beneath me let off and I accidentally caused all the sand to slide on him. There was some mud as well with it. There was no way that looked like an accident and the guy was pissed. He got up covered in sand and mud and started chasing me.

I ran to my parents. God, what a pussy I am (it seems to shift a little bit in my dreams - sometimes I'm crazy brave, sometimes a total coward). I'm 23 for God's sake and I run to my parents when things go sour?

Anyway, at least that was a bit fun. That's all for last night. Gonna hit the hay soon.

My mother revealed to me that while I had been visiting her, she found my IUD in her house. Apparently, it had come dislodged and fallen out. She kept it for months, deliberately not telling me, so I'd give her grandchildren. I looked at myself and saw that indeed, I was pregnant. I yelled angrily at my mother, flabbergasted that she'd stoop so low. I asked her if she understood that I'd been drinking and doing drugs the past few months, unaware of her schemes, and that the baby would not be well. I screamed with despair, and the noise sounded like a baby's scream.

----

The setting is a sterile, white, minimal, hermetically-sealed floor of a skyscraper. Small boys and girls, all aged around 10-14 and all blonde, live here, each in their own small room. They're overseen by adult minders and have never been outside of the building. One girl is curious about the outside and manages to leave. She finds she can fly. The building the children live in, she sees, is surrounded by nothing but high-rises in an endless dystopian cityscape.

The girl returns and develops a love of dragons. She orders (or I send her?) dragon toys from the internet, which appear in her sterile room in Amazon boxes.

The girl meets a boy, and eventually both escape. They end up at an art gallery with experimental electronica playing and a circus-like atmosphere. How should the story end, I wonder? Should they live happily ever after? No, the story should end in tragedy, I think. They should meet someone - maybe a tattooed lady? It's been done in Stranger in a Strange land, I remember.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

My female friend H and I were in a mall at night. We were in one of the department stores. I think we wanted to head out of the mall.

We knew the exit we were at didn't lead to the section of the parking lot where our car was. But we didn't know what exit of the mall would lead us to our car.

But for some reason we were heading for the exit at the end of this department store, anyway. We walked out a double set of sliding glass doors.

As we passed between the two doors, a policeman, not a security guard, passed in front of us. He was a couple inches taller than I, kind of muscly, black, with lightish skin, and very short hair. He seemed to be trying to bully us or hustle us a little as he passed us.

The cop passed through the second set of doors, and we followed. After the cop got a couple meters away from the exit he turned around and did something like a sly, little look at us -- at me in particular, like he thought I was some sort of troublemaker.

I thought, Oh, god, I'm getting singled out all over again. The cop walked away. But I felt like I was going to get targeted for more harrassment.

I knew H and I had walked out the wrong exit of the mall. I knew the easiest thing to do would be to go back into the mall, straight through the mall, and to the correct exit.

But I felt like if the cop already had me singled out as a troublemaker, he'd probably either head back into the mall and harrass me or contact his cop friends and have them harrass me, if he saw me head back into the mall. So I figured the smartest thing to do would just be to walk all the way around the outside of the mall until H and I found our car.

Dream #2

I was sitting at a table in a food court area that kind of looked like the dining section at the student union of my old university. But this food court was either part of a mall or an airport -- or both.

There was one big area of seats, then a wide walkway, then another big area of seats. Both seating areas and the walkway were busy with people, all rushing all over the place.

I sat at a table full of people, mostly adults in their forties or fifties. But, off to my left, I saw somebody, maybe one of my old psychiatrists, sitting at another table.

I didn't want her to get up and hurry away before I got to talk to her. So I ran to her table. But when I got to the table, she was gone. But I felt like she was probably going to return. It was now like we were scheduled to meet. So I figured I'd sit here and wait for her -- so this time I wouldn't miss her.

But I realized I'd left my backpack (a huge, tall backpack!) at the previous table. So I got up and ran over to pick that up.

For some reason, I was now kind of wandering around in the seating area. I seemed to be upset with my most recent psychiatrist. I had feelings about her that were the same as IWL -- I felt like she neglected my deeper psychological issues all the time, always looking for a quick fix and easy way out -- to save herself the trouble of work.

For some reason, I felt like I finally needed to just complain to somebody about her. For a moment I may have complained to the psychiatrist I'd seen sitting at the table -- somehow. But that psychiatrist was now gone.

But now I saw my most recent psychiatrist's "boss," sitting in an armchair in a section of hallway after the seating area across the walkway from me. I went up to this woman and either sat in an armchair right next to hers, or knelt beside the woman's armchair.

The woman looked like Susan Seaforth, who played Julie Horton on Days of Our Lives, from around the time period of the late 1970s.



I either told the woman that I wanted to complain about my psychiatrist, or I just began complaining to her about my psychiatrist.

The woman listened to me for a moment. She then said that she understood what I was talking about. But she had to go take care of some business. When she got finished, she'd come back to me. I could tell her the rest of my story. And she could figure out what to do in response.

But I think this woman's "business" was to catch a flight. I'm pretty sure she even had luggage with her. It didn't register with me then -- but -- how long was I supposed to wait?

Dream #3

It was daytime. I was out on a wide, shallow, stone staircase with a lot of people. We all stood up near the top, near a whole wall of glass doors that looked in on a comparatively dark lobby. It was like we were all assembled out here for a photo.

I was playing some kind of important part in whatever proceedings we were all a part of. But there were these two really hot, young women right next to me. One of them, even though she was a really hot, young woman, may have been one of my friends' mothers.

The two hot girls began kissing each other. First they were just giving each other mild, quick, closed-mouth kisses. But then, either because I wasn't reacting much or because I actually was paying attention to them, they began to give each other slower kisses.

I was pretty aroused by this. The two girls kind of fed on my arousal and began giving each other open-mouthed kisses. They even kind of sunk down a bit, almost kneeling on the ground with each other. They may have been wearing wedding dresses, as if they were going to marry each other.

Now the young women opened their mouths slightly and began slowly sliding their tongues back and forth into each others' mouths. This was too much for me to handle.

The girls stood back up and were almost right in my face. So, even though I didn't want to start kissing my friend's mom, I just crept my face a bit closer. I began working my tongue in there a bit.

I was trying to get my tongue in there in the least intrusive way that I could. I was really turned on by the girls' lesbian kissing. I didn't want it to turn into straight kissing. I just wanted to get a little bit of the lesbian erotic energy on my own tongue.

I was in what seemed to be my childhood bedroom, but it was amazing: stone-carved fountains, a spacious garden, and several aquariums with pets. I walked to the aquariums and saw that my snakes and lizards were alive, but that my cat was sleeping on the mesh screen above their cages. This caused the mesh to seep downwards, crowding the lizards and snakes. I thought to myself how careless I had been in maintaining and feeding my reptiles, and how lucky I was that they were still alive.

My mother and I then got into some sort of argument during a social event. My mother, myself, my husband, and several neighbors were all seated and having a conversation, but the tension between my mother and I was obvious. I tried to diffuse the tension and create peace (if not for the sake of my mother and I than for the others present) but to no avail: my mom was thirsty for blood.

Good morning, everybody.

I don't think I've ever made an out and out joke (albeit corny) in a dream before this dream.

This dream is another instance of so-so dream control. I was watching the video below yesterday afternoon. I thought it might be fun to dream myself onto the International Space Station.

But I got afraid of messing up the machinery if I actually projected myself up there. So I told myself not to try, after all. Anyway, the dream I had is a result of that thought process.



Dream #1

It was a sunny day. I was flying over the roofs of some really nice, 19th century-style mansions. I was apparently searching for a book I'd lost. It may have been some sort of classic book. But I think it was actually a porn novel or porn magazine.

I think a bird had stolen this book. I may have seen evidence that the bird was on the roof of a house just in front of me. I may have seen something like a little nest on one of the peaks of the roof. I may have felt like the book was now a part of that nest.

But I was now floating in between two mansions. The mansions both had complex roofs, with a lot of different angles of sloping. My oldest nephew straddled the roof of one of the mansions. My mom sat on the roof of the other mansion.

I may have been here now in order to get some books for my nephew. My mom had a couple of books on her roof. I think I was going to bring those over for my nephew. But there was still one book missing.

But now a cartoon bird landed at the edge of the roof of my mom's mansion. The cartoon bird was black, so I thought it was a raven. But it actually looked like the Warner Bros chicken hawk character, Henery Hawk.



The "raven" had the missing book on top of its head, for some reason. The book was real, even though the raven was a cartoon.

I thought, Whoa! Now's my chance!

Still floating in between the two mansions, I turned to my nephew. I said, "Hey! Why is a raven like a writing desk?"

My nephew said, "What?"

I bobbed back around to the raven and said, "Why is a raven like a writing desk? Because it has a book on its top!"

My nephew said, "Oh. I guess."

The raven now, for some reason, did something like faint. It slid down the right slope of the roof, taking the book down with it. I floated over to the peak of the roof and sat there, looking down at the bird.

I was a little sore that my nephew either didn't get my joke or thought it was corny. I was trying to blame him for the fact that he thought my joke was corny.

I could see the book laying at the bottom of the roof's slope, as if it were about to slip off the roof's edge. I guess the raven had already slipped off the roof's edge.

I thought about getting the book, before it slipped, too. But I really didn't want to do my nephew any favors, after he hadn't liked my joke. But I could see the other books, near my mom. And I figured I'd get those ones for him.

My nephew asked me to get the other book. He couldn't see it, and he didn't know whether it had fallen or not.

But I told my nephew I couldn't get the book. I said, "It's in too hard a place to reach. I'm an old man, now. I can't reach into all kinds of places like I used to."

I now really was an old man. I was a tall, white man, with a big belly. I was bald, with dirtyish grey hair on the sides of my head. I probably wore a nice button-up shirt and blue jeans.

I was walking with two extremely hot women, probably in their mid- to late-twenties. They were like models. But they were astronauts. They were dressed in these extremely sexy, silvery jumpsuits which, I guess, were their space suits.

We walked through an automatic, sliding-steel door on a vanilla-yellow wall. We walked into some area that looked like a cafeteria. But not far above my head were all kinds of staircases, as if there were a maze of balconies above this eating area. At the other end of this room was a huge window wall, revealing a gigantic swimming pool area.

I knew that one of these women was my daughter-in-law. The other woman was a partner on the flight that my daughter-in-law was about to take.

I was here to see my daughter-in-law off on her space flight. My daughter-in-law and her friend were dropping me off here to relax and wait in the preparation time before launch. I knew that this cafeteria was part of some fitness area, and that the girls were probably going to do a little exercise before their flight.

We walked toward some sort of booth table, talking and joking. My daughter-in-law, even though she was incredibly sexy, had a kind of low self-esteem. I tried to make her feel better about herself. So as we sat into the booth, I made some kind of sly comment implying how cute she was.

This made both of the girls giggle giddily. I had a bad feeling that both of the girls were now sexually attracted to me. I thought I should back off a bit. I didn't want my daughter-in-law to be attracted to me. But, I thought, it wouldn't be so bad if her friend decided she liked me.

The girls had to leave me now. They may already have been gone. But I at least heard my daughter-in-law telling me, in my head, "You know, they have the ----- (press conference?) going on right before the flight. Everybody's welcome to come to that thing. And we'll be there, too. You should come, so we can see you one last time."

For some reason I didn't think that was a good idea. I told the girls I'd probably just take a walk around before the launch, instead.

I was now myself again. I was sitting on the ground or on a concrete floor -- somewhere. A tall, heavy, white man with feathery, black and grey hair, stood by a blackboard at a wall. The wall looked like it was part of some warehouse or unfinished building. There were thin, metal beams running from the floor to some kind of half-ceiling.

The man was explaining something to me about Judaism. He was making calculations regarding verses in the Torah. He was trying to show that the appropriate method of studying was one passage of the Torah per week. He said that this was all a person could really handle, while keeping a balance on his spirituality.

I saw a number of -- what I would describe as traffic poles -- like the yellow-painted concrete poles with convex tops. But these poles were comprised of crystal cogs, all stacked up on top of each other.

The cogs were all different colors. But they were piled up so that cogs of the same color were near each other. One pole, for instance, started with orange at the bottom, worked its way up to a pinkish-red, then into a green, then blue.

I told the man, "It doesn't make sense to me that people should only study one passage a week. It seems to me like a person could actually study a passage a day and be fine."

The man was a little shocked that I'd said something like that. I felt like I had kind of insulted either his ideas of religion or his ideas of spiritual balance. I think I felt like I needed him for a teacher. So I had to find a way to apologize to him for having made a comment apparently against one of his major theories.

We were both standing outside now. The man was up on a sidewalk. I stood on something like asphalt -- maybe in a parking lot? The man was taller than me by his own height and the height of the curb. And we were separated by some kind of railing.

I decided that the best way to apologize to the man was by showing my knowledge of other religions and concluding with the idea that, compared to his religion, all the other religions I knew about were lacking.

I had a whole bunch of papers in my hands. It was like I was going to flip through some kind of PowerPoint presentation on the faults of all the other religions I knew about.

There were some slides regarding some religions on the top of my stack of papers. But I wanted to save those religions for later. I shuffled those to the back of the deck. Now the top slide was about some religion that was somehow based in the teachings of Edgar Cayce. I figured that would be a good place to start.

I gave the man some explanation about the tenets of this religion (I wish I could remember them now!). I was going to move on to how I thought they were silly, compared to the tenets of his religion.

But the man interrupted me -- as if he thought I were trying to convince him that this religion was really good. He took the same tack with me, now, that I was trying to take with him. He became really interested in what I had to say about this religion. He wanted to know more.

I felt a little defeated. I was trying to learn more about the man's religion. But now he wanted me to teach him about mine!

I stood up onto the curb. The man and I turned to my left and walked down the sidewalk, down a slight slope, to a complex of buildings like a university campus. There seemed to be a decent amount of people walking around down there.

I was explaining something to the man. But now I was in some kind of limbo space, floating around and discussing things in my head. I was now apparently talking to someone, kind of like the Apollo 11 Command Module Pilot Michael Collins.



Collins didn't believe in something about psychic phenomena. But I was trying to convince him that psychic phenomena did exist.

Collins and I were now driving in a car at night. I had gotten onto the topic of psychokinesis. I was trying to make some point about how it was already being used in outer space, and that it wasn't causing any harm.

To illustrate this, I had a chart in my mind. It was a white background, with an x-arrow and a y-arrow. Both arrows were really bold. The plane made by the coordinates was of either twelve or sixteen rectangles. The rectangles were stood vertically. The grid was four rectangles wide, and either three or four rectangles long.

In this grid, I drew something like a jagged line bouncing down through the rectangles. This was made to show the minimal damaging effect that psychokinetic powers had in space.

Somehow, Collins and I faded into some place like a residence area for astronauts who were about to head up into space. We were both inside a room with thin-panelled walls, like the fake wood-panel walls inside a double-wide trailer. The entire floor of the room was covered with mattresses, except the left side of the room, which had a set of bunk beds.

In the center of the room was some very space-stationy-looking computer area. A pole hung from the ceiling. Suspended from the pole were a big computer system and a seat at which someone sat while using the computers.

Collins was sitting at the computer station. I was laying on my back, on a mattress, looking up at the back of one of the screens of the system.

I was shocked to see that the logo of the computer's manufacturer was a circle with a stylized, interlocking P and K. I thought, PK! That's psychokinesis! Is this whole computer part of some psychokinesis project?

Apparently, though, I had been continuing my argument, because Collins, at some point, told me that I'd won him over. I don't know whether he actually believed in psychokinesis. But he at least seemed to believe that, if it existed, it wouldn't do any harm.

Somehow, I was now asleep, my back propped up against the back wall of the room. But now another astronaut opened the door of the room.

Even though my eyes were closed, and I was sleeping, I could see the woman. She was blonde, a little frumpy-looking, with frizzy-curly, long, blonde hair. She was maybe in her late forties. She wore a red sweater and red-plastic-rimmed eyeglasses.

The woman poked her head in through the doorway and asked Collins, "Do you know anything about debt for the companies ----- (can't remember, ----- (Provate?), and Fluxcil, that you might be able to help me with them?"

These were biotech companies. Collins said, "No. I don't know."

But the woman wasn't really asking Collins so Collins could help her. She was hinting to him that they should test me out, on my knowledge. But Collins didn't get the hint. So the woman had to make it a little stronger.

But the mention of the biotech names got me kind of interested (why? I don't know anything about biotech), and I was already waking up, lifting my dark, heavy eyelids, as the woman said, "Well... do you know anybody who might know about that debt? Like... another astronaut you work with?"

Collins might have said something like, "Oh. Yeah."

But I was already too interested in what the woman was talking about to wait. I stood up -- still incredibly groggy! -- and said, "Oh? Debt? I think I can get you some information." I knew I didn't know anything about biotech. But I was already making a plan in my head for how I'd do the research.

I walked over all the mattresses, toward the doorway. The woman may have said something to me, then asked me, "Do you think fifteen minutes will be enough time for you?"

I said, "Yeah. I can get you something in fifteen minutes."

I thought I'd have to use my own computer. But I wondered if my wireless would work all the way from up here on the space station. I thought that the satellite system would be all messed up.

Then I realized we weren't on the space station yet. It was still the night before we even launched up into space. I thought, of course my computer will work.

Collins had gotten up from the computer station. He was walking out of the room, to go down the hallway for some kind of meeting with the woman. I walked back toward the back of the room, to pull my computer out of my suitcase (???).

But I'd forgotten the names of the three companies. I turned around and caught the woman before she walked away. I said, "So the companies are... Probate... ?"

The woman said, "-----, ----- (Provate?), and Fluxcil. You know Fluxcil. They make -----."

I felt a little insulted by that. I didn't want the woman to think I was stupid. Of course I knew that Fluxcil made -----. But I was just having trouble keeping the companies' names in my head. My brain was still so groggy!

The woman left and I walked back toward the back of the room. My suitcase was huge -- maybe waist-high, and as wide as two of me. I knew my computer was in a pocket at the back end of the suitcase.

As I walked toward the suitcase I was already trying to figure out how to get my information. I knew that I'd start by pulling the most recent financial filings for each company.

I started wondering if fifteen minutes was enough time. These filings were for biotech companies. They might be huge.

But I thought that there were two other things I should do if I had enough time left in my fifteen minutes. One thing was to do a debt schedule. But I thought I would probably have to ask the woman if she wanted that before I actually did it.

I also thought that, to get the most recent debt issuances of the companies, I'd probably also have to go through the most recent press releases for each company.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was walking up the stairs in a fire escape stairwell in an office building. The walls were white and the light was either incandescent or a warm-feeling fluorescent. There may have been one or two people ahead of me, guiding me. One may have been a pretty, young woman.

I was told something about the office where I was being taken. It had something to do with the difference between this place and my old office. I felt like probably nobody would even know me here.

The door opened to the office floor. Colorful Christmas lights were glaring somewhere at the periphery of my vision. The two people guiding me either disappeared or walked really far away into the office.

I was by myself in a corner of the office. It felt kind of like an elevator bank. But it was open to the rest of the office. I wasn't even sure why I was supposed to be in this office in the first place.

A young man came up to greet me. I knew him! (I don't think I really know him IWL.) I was so relieved to know somebody.

But the man didn't quite want to acknowledge that he recognized me, as well. Some people didn't like me, and the man didn't want to be seen by them as liking me. So he just treated me politely, but indifferently, like he'd treat anybody who came into the office.

The man may have told me that my old boss would be here to meet with me momentarily. In the meantime, the man said, I could visit the museum on this floor. The man walked me to the wall behind me -- the wall with the doorway to the stairwell.

Off to the left of the doorway was something that looked like a display. It was about the size of an animal display diorama in a museum.

The "display" was of something like a space station. It looked fake, like one solid, plastic piece -- almost like a Star Wars toy! But some part of it, I knew, opened like a door. From there, you would walk into the museum. The museum would, I think, be about the size of a hallway, or the size of one exhibit room in a large museum.

Off to the left of this "museum" was a long hallway. On the right wall of the hallway, from the waist up, were windows letting in a lot of yellow-white sunlight. The floor of the hallway was blue.

I was now in "my apartment," which was rather large. The living area, which may have included the dining area, was three or four rooms long, with all the rooms opening into each other, only distinguished from another by the varying widths of their rectangles.

The place was empty of furntiture. But there was stuff everywhere on the floor. Nothing was cluttered, and maybe everything had some kind of order. But it mostly felt like I just had all the stuff I liked just laying around everywhere.

I'm not sure, but at this point, I think I looked like Lance Loud, from An American Family.



(In this photo, Lance is standing, to the far right. The mother, Pat, is seated, in the center.)

I had my phone to my ear, and maybe I was waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. I was looking down to the floor as I stepped over all the stuff I had laying around on the floor.

I think I walked over some vinyl records, in their sleeves, and over a really old cassette tape player, the cassettes for which were bigger than eight-track tape cassettes.

I probably started thinking about music. I thought of something that I really wanted to hear. I was going to play it. The music may now already have been playing. I still had the phone to my ear.

But suddenly I realized -- I'm almost all out of money! It's totally wrong for me to stay in this place with no money. I can't sit here listening to music. I need to get all my stuff reduced and organized, so I can get the hell out of here!

I may now have started putting together a plan for how to throw out a bunch of useless papers I didn't need, so I'd have less stuff to take with me once I left this place.

I was now in a house which was supposed to be the Loud family house. At this point I definitely looked like Lance Loud. The house had two stories. I was up on the second floor, in a bedroom which had been converted into an office.

I wasn't a member of the family. I was like a friend of some member of the family. But I had also been doing some kind of work for them. I had had tough times, and I needed to stay at their house. I think I had been staying at the house a couple of days, but now I was getting ready to leave.

Pat, the mom from An American Family, came into the room. I was reclined -- somehow -- either against an office chair and some small filing cabinets, or on a bed.

Pat sat down on something and told me that she knew I was planning on leaving the house. But she said she didn't think I actually had enough money yet to go out on my own. She said she was going to talk with the rest of the family about seeing whether I couldn't stay here a little while longer.

Pat stood up and left. I looked through the doorway. There was a short, balcony-like hallway, with the stairs on the end closer to me. Again, I'm pretty sure I saw the colorful glare of Christmas lights somewhere.

I was kind of relieved that Pat had asked me to stay. But I knew that I couldn't accept the offer, anyway. I didn't want any of the manlier men in the family to think I was just being a waste by sticking around here. I knew that if Pat made a good case for me, none of the men would say anything to my face. But I'd always have to deal with them showing me how they felt in other ways.

I figured that what I would do, then, if Pat got the okay for me to stay, was just act like I was going to stay here, after all. Then, when nobody was looking, probably when everybody was gone from the house or asleep at night, I'd just pack up all my stuff and sneak out, leaving a letter saying why I'd gone.

Dream #2

I was walking down the hallway of some movie theatre. I was in a huge line either for tickets or to get into the theatre itself. The wall to my left was just a plain, beige-colored wall, possibly with some kind of wallpaper that looked like thickly-threaded linen.

To my right was a wall that occasionally had narrow, tall windows, letting in the grey light of late afternoon. There were also occasional arcade games positioned along this wall. And somewhere there was a feeling of faint, flashing, multi-colored lights.

There were a couple of people, probably a man and a woman, directly ahead of me, talking about a movie. The woman was doing most of the talking, and she sounded kind of arrogant and pretentious.

Apparently the film the woman was talking about was a short film. The woman was speaking about the director of the film. The director may also have been a character in the film -- a comic kind of character who, even though he wasn't the main character, was supposed to "steal the show."

I may have had an image of this guy in my head. He may have been a white guy, kind of rich-looking, wearing a really garish, multi-colored tuxedo, and a hat that looked either like a wizard's hat or a dunce cap, which was also multi-colored.

I then looked off to my right, to a part of the right wall of the hallway that bent diagonally toward us, making the hallway narrower. On the sloping part of the wall was a poster for the movie the woman had just been talking about. The man was on the front, in his costume. He may have been waist-deep in popcorn.

I realized that the film wasn't a short film. It was feature-length. And it was the film we were all heading in to see (or buying tickets for?) right now.

I had been telling myself that I really didn't want to see the movie. I really didn't like the director. But now that I'd seen the poster, and now that I realized the movie was feature-length, I decided that I actually would like to see it.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in group meeting room with about twenty other people. The room was only partly lit, with a drab, greenish white, fluorescent light.

The room was divided into two parts. The back part was kind of empty, with maybe a long, folding table. The front part had a few couches and chairs. Most people were in or near the front part. The area was so full that people were standing up behind the back couch.

I had been standing way back in the back area, by myself. But now I walked forward to listen to what was going on. A young woman was leading the discussion. She sat on a couch on my right side.

To the woman's right, on the same couch, and on another couch, probably the back couch, sat two young men who looked a lot alike. They were both tall, thin, pale, and shaved-headed. They wore nice, casual khakis and dress shirts. I felt like I'd known both of the guys from high school.

I came to understand that this was a group discussing alien abductions. Aliens existed and were among us, in a very obvious way. And, somehow, the young woman was serving as something like a go-between, between the aliens and the people in this room.

Some of us in the room had been abducted. Others of us were, apparently, trying to be convinced to volunteer for abduction.

I was now sitting on a couch opposite the young woman. The man to the young woman's right was now speaking about his own abduction experience. I now realized that the young man's head had been shaved by the aliens, while they'd experimented on him.

The woman asked the man if the experience was really bad. The man said that most of the experience didn't really bother him at all.

The only part the man hated, he said, was when the aliens did a mental probe on him. He said that it felt really terrible to have all his memories drawn up. He could see them. But he wasn't controlling them. And he knew he was only watching them because someone else -- the aliens -- wanted to see them.

The man mentioned another part of the experiment he hated. As the man described it, it first sounded to me like the aliens had put the man through some kind of system where they'd caused his body to work as if it were under a lot of stress. But then the man said that the aliens had actually shut down the man's body entirely. He was dead, but still conscious.

This man's discussion was supposed to convince people that alien abductions weren't so bad. It didn't convince me. I got up and walked toward the back area. But I knew the second man was going to talk. I wanted to listen to him as well. I think I may still have been considering volunteering for an abduction.

Dream #2

I was in a group meeting room, like in the first dream. It was divided into two areas. The front area was full of people, and the back area only had a few people. I think most of the people were Indian. The room was warm with incandescent light.

On the right wall a movie was playing. All the couches in the front area were arranged to face the movie, like a makeshift movie theatre. I think everybody had plates of food.

There were plent of seats open on the couch. So I sat down on one. The couch felt really nice. It was a dull blue or pink, and it had a kind of soft, crushed velvet feel to it.

I looked up at the movie. Some really pretty Indian girl was either being taught or teaching someone how to make a kind of honeyed bread. It basically looked like a cornbread square, glazed in honey, with a walnut in the center, on top.

The girl was dressed in a traditional Indian outfit. There was a sense of sexuality, romance, and tradition all wrapped up in the food making.

I got the idea that this screening was a kind of preview for the film. The film wasn't finished yet, and we were all supposed to give our feedback on it, so that it could be tweaked for more audience enjoyment.

But I started to wonder if maybe this film wasn't a bit too stereotypical toward Indians, what with the food-making and tradition and so forth. I wondered if Indians would be offended by a film like this.

It didn't occur to me that the film was actually Hindi (it was -- it had English subtitles), and that pretty much everybody else in the room was Indian.

There was a father-like man standing near the couches. He had dark skin and a bit of a pot belly. He wore a button-up shirt of really nice, pale-blue material and nice, dark slacks. I thought I might go hang out with him, since I figured he'd have a better idea about all this stuff than I did.

Dream #3

It was daytime. I was walking through a forest, probably a pine forest. I was walking along a slope, not on any trail. The pine trees were all spaced well apart. The ground itself was black. It may have been black cinder soil, or (I think now) the forest could have been burnt down.

There must have been a road at the top of the slope, up to my right. Suddenly people came blasting down the slope! They were all laying, extended straight out, with their legs crossed and their arms crossed over their chests. And they were propelled so that they were rolling, tumbling, down the slope.

I followed these people down the slope. I reached a point where there was a cliff. I couldn't go any farther. The cliff must have been about fifty meters high. It ended with a flat valley of forest, of the same black-soiled, or charred look as the area up around me.

But one of the rolling, tumbling people, in his movement, had rolled right off the cliff.

I suddenly knew that this was all some game. People were thrown, almost at random, down the slope. There were all kinds of random land formations down the slope. Depending on fate, and the skill of the person, the person either would or wouldn't survive going down the slope. Survival, as well as something else, would determine who won this game.

But this person's path had been directly toward this cliff. There were a few places, going down the cliff, where the person managed to grab hold for a moment. But everything in the cliff was really soft. The cliff was like some shelf of really soft, brown coal.

Finally the person managed to grab onto a thick tree root that was growing out of the cliff wall. It might have been able to get him over to a thin ledge.

But it was obvious that the root was dead and rotten. The more the man pulled up on it, the more it was shifting its way out of the cliff. And, besides, even if the man got to the ledge, he'd be trapped there. There was no way down.

So the man just gave in to the fact that he'd lost. He either let go of the tree root or held onto the tree root until it finally snapped out of the cliff. The man fell maybe about twenty meters and died on impact.

There were already a bunch of people down on the ground by now -- some alive, some dead. The living had set themselves out in the valley, as if they were going to camp there for the night. Some of the living headed over to the man's body after they saw that he'd fallen to his death.

I walked back up the slope. I reached the top of the slope, where the road was. I saw cars passing along the road. I then understood that the people were tossed out, in their rolling positions, from the cars. This was what gave them such great speed (??? -- in a perpendicular direction?). I may even have seen another batch of people thrown out from the cars.

I think my mom, or at least somebody I knew, was up around here. I'm pretty sure, anyway, that somebody was calling my name or talking to me, probably from a slight distance, maybe even across the road from me.

I may have spoken a little bit with the person who had been speaking to me. But, even though I think the person was looking forward to me helping them with something, I told the person that I would be back in a moment.

I knew there was a really safe way to get down into the valley. I walked down the slope and kept going forward, in the direction of the road. The cliff merged into the slope farther along, and the slope became very mild.

I walked down along the mild slope to the valley. I figured that once I got down to where everybody was, I'd help bury the man I'd seen die, out of respect for him. But I also probably figured that I'd help bury all the dead. This game didn't make any sense.

Dream #4

I was sitting in some restaurant, probably a fast-food restaurant. It was daytime, and there was plenty of light coming in from the windows. There were a lot of people in the restaurant. The place felt packed, busy, and humid, like a coffee-warmed store on a winter's day.

I sat on the right side of a table for four. A police woman sat across the table from me. I don't think either of us had any food. The woman was white, kind of short, a bit overweight, with a round, pale face. She had frizzy, red-brown hair, drawn back in a braided pony tail. She had kind of thin eyes, pale blue-green. She looked like she may have been in her early twenties.

The woman was telling me something about how disappointed she was in me. I'd either done or said something that had really gone against her expectations of me.

Now she was pretty much through with me. I knew this was bad for me because, since she was a cop, now that she was through with me, she'd probably have the other cops start giving me a bad time.

The woman stood up to leave. I may have stood up to try to get her back. But I don't think I really knew what to say. So I probably gave up and sat back down just as soon as I'd stood.

Dream #5

In my head, I was talking with either my old friend R or his first or second wife. I'm pretty sure that the conversation eventually became between the first wife, N, and myself. As I had this conversation in my head, I was cleaning out a bathtub in a bathroom with kind of dim, warm, incandescent light.

I was telling N that I hated even talking to her and R. They seemed to love making me feel inferior to them. It was even like they operated as a team, taking turns saying nitpicky things or one-upping me, when the other person couldn't find the right thing to say.

I probably said that this was why I didn't want to go to some thing that N had invited me to. This probably ended the conversation.

As I was finishing the conversation, I noticed that my efforts to clean the bathtub were really failing. I'd sprayed cleaner all over the tub, and I was wiping the tub off with a sponge.

But I just seemed to be taking whatever grime there was in the tub and spreading it all over the entire tub. The spray bubbles themselves only seemed to be gathering up the grime and expanding it, so that now my tub's surfaces seemed to be coated in soapy grime.

I might possibly have realized that I'd need to wipe and re-wipe the surfaces before I got all this stuff off. The first spraying was to get everything wet. I'd have to spray again. Then the wet stuff would start coming off, leaving the surface clean.

Dream #6

A commercial from the late 1970s. A thin, prettyish, blonde woman was pushing a cart through a grocery store. A male narrator was talking about wise choices a mother should make while shopping.

The "wise choices," obviously, meant buying whatever product the narrator was advertising.

The view then switched to a view from the cart. The woman's face was framed in a circle in the center of the screen. The rest of the screen was black. This was supposed to be the view of the woman's baby, who was sitting in the cart.

The woman was making all kinds of kissy faces to the baby. The male narrator was now saying, in connection with making wise choices while shopping, that a baby will always imitate whatever a mother does. This implied that the baby was probably making kissy faces back to the mother.

Suddenly the mother let out a flat, kind of raspy burp. The mother was surprised, and a little apprehensive. She knew the baby would probably imitate her burp.

The view now shifted to a view more like the mother's view. The "baby" in the cart was actually a pretty, skinny girl, maybe seven years old. She was sitting in the basket of the cart, rather than the seat of it. But I felt like she was probably too old to sit in the cart, like a baby would.

Sure enough, the little girl, kind of looking up to her mother like a baby would, burped, in almost the same way as her mother did.

It was then nighttime. The mother was in her bedroom, which was pretty big. It was dark. But somehow the mother could be seen, maybe in a nightgown, masturbating.

The little girl, standing in the hallway in only underwear and a tank-top, was watching the mother through a crack in the door. With a baby-like mentality, the little girl thought she'd copy the mother, in front of the mother.

Good morning, everybody. Happy holidays!

Dream #1

I was reading a book (???). The book at least claimed to be historical. It was about a group of kids who had paranormal powers.

But the government was somehow involved with the kids. And right after the kids had any paranormal experiences, the government would come brainwash the kids. The kids would be programmed to believe that their experiences had only been dreams. Sometimes the memory of the experiences also had to be distorted, to seem more dream-like.

I now had an image in my head. Six or so glowing, yellow spheres were all gathered in a line in a small space, like peas in a pod. All the area surrounding the peapod was black.

(I think this last image probably comes from the Christmas Google doodle.)

Dream #2

I was at my family's house, unwrapping Christmas presents. I sat on the floor. My mom sat before me and to my right. My oldest nephew sat before me, about a meter and a half away from me. Everybody else was wandering all around the house.

All the wrapping on the presents was white. There was also white tissue-paper padding a lot of the Christmas present packages. Pretty soon, in the space between my nephew, my mom, and me, there was a whole bunch of white paper piled up.

I figured I should probably work on getting some of this stuff cleaned up before everything got so messy that we couldn't get a handle on it. So I stood up and looked for a trash bag to put all the paper in.

I asked my nephew if he had any more garbage bags left. He said something like, yes, he had a whole bunch left. He handed me one. For some reason, I may have walked away from my nephew and my mom, as if I were going to start cleaning up at some other end of the room.

But as I was walking away, I realized that my asking for garbage bags was the first thing I'd said to my nephew in the entire time I'd been home for the holidays! I felt terrible. I wondered how I could have been so thoughtless. I was trying to think of a way that I could show my nephew how much I loved him.

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 going somewhere, possibly on a long trip somewhere where I wouldn't be able to get anything new to read. So I either had to take one book with me or read one book really quickly before I left.

I was in a living room which was filled with natural light. I was looking at a shelf-like niche that ran across a white wall. The wall served as a bookshelf, and the bookshelf was mostly full.

I felt an urge to look to the left end of the bookshelf, almost as if a voice were calling me to do so. The voice may have been speaking about psychic phenomena. I think the voice was low and a bit gravelly, but gentle and intelligent sounding.

I saw a book that was much bigger than all the other books. All the other books were small and black, almost like binder-shaped date books. This book was tall, hardcover, with a red, cloth cover. There was gold lettering along the spine, giving the book's title, which probably had the work "Psychic" in it.

I opened the book. The man's voice was, I think, now talking about either the Book of Revelations or the end times. I thought that the book I opened must have been the Bible, and that I must have been reading a passage from the Book of Revelations.

But when I looked closer at the words, I realized I was actually reading the text from a Christian book called Renewing Your Mind, by a pastor named Marilyn Hickey. (IWL this was an important book for my family when I was a young boy.)

Dream #2

Possibly down in the canyon of a United States National Park. Probably in the parking lot for the visitor's center at the park.

I stood outside my mom's car. My mom was dropping me off here. I was going to be here for a long time. I was possibly going to work and live here.

I saw all this as if from outside my body and up in the air, at least three meters up in the air, and at varying lengths from my body -- between three meters away and fifty meters away, at the other end of the parking lot.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was out on a road at the bottom of a steep slope in a neighborhood probably near the neighborhood I lived in during high school.

I stood just outside my mom's car. My mom was about to drive away. But before she did, she was telling me where I could find the nearest Dunkin' Donuts. My mom said the Dunkin' Donuts was up the slope, then one and a half blocks past a park I knew was up the way. The park was mostly taken up by a big lake, around which I used to run in high school.

I was a little disappointed to hear that the Dunkin' Donuts was so far away. I thought I could never make it on time (not sure what I needed to be on time for -- maybe the breakfast menu -- which wouldn't really make sense, either). But, now that I'd decided to go to Dunkin' Donuts, I couldn't stop here.

My mom drove away. I apparently started walking. But now I was already up the slope, and through and past the lake park. I was still worried that I wouldn't make it on time.

I got to some restaurant, which was either Dunkin' Donuts or some restaurant a few stores down the block from Dunkin' Donuts. I sat at an outdoor table with a Latino family: a father, a mother, a couple little kids, and maybe a couple more adult guys.

My mom showed up among this group of people. She told me that I didn't have to worry about Dunkin' Donuts. She gave me a reason for this. But I don't remember it.

My mom pointed the store out to me. I looked up the road and saw the store. The Dunkin' Donuts road sign had a lot of brown on it. The sign was more like a big brown sign, checkered, almost, with little, white squares that had the orange and pink "DD" logo in them.

Dream #2

I stood out on a beach, looking out over the water. The beach itself was very beautiful, but not natural looking at all, as far as I know.

The water was nephrite green, but it seemed to gleam like glass. The horizon was like white gold, and the cloudy sky overhead was like smoky amber. And, it seemed, there was an extremely long bridge, made of black iron, stretching thinly across the water, all the way across my view of the horizon!

At first I was near some Latino family: probably a mother, a father, a daugher, and possibly a son. I was either watching government testing of some kind of nuclear devices, or else I was remembering the testing of these devices, which had taken place on this beach within the past few decades.

I saw one explosion, the light of which I don't remember at all, but which must have been like an exploding ball of light a hundred meters or so above the ocean.

I then walked down the beach to my left maybe twenty meters or so. I saw something fall from the sky into the water -- although, again -- I didn't really see the object. It was like the object was invisible. But I saw its effects on the water as it splashed in: like a row of pebbles and rocks, splashing into the water one by one, in quick succession.

Now the points of water which had been dotted by the splashes surged upward in small fountains. There may have been the small sound of an explosion. The fountains then subsided.

I knew that another nuclear device had been detonated deep under the water. I knew that this device would kill all the fish in the water. I was preparing for the next big wave from the ocean to wash a bunch of dead to the shore.

I may possibly have thought that the device may actually have been made in order to kill the fish. Killing the fish was a form of sabotage against the economy of the nation that fished here.

I now stood back a ways from the water. I stood near a Latino family again. The mother and father were both young and attractive. They were both kind of pale skinned.

The father was muscular, very manly. I was afraid that I'd do something with my own usual personality and offend the father's masculine sensibilities. So I just tried to remain calm and do nothing.

At some point I looked behind me. There was a basalt-like rock behind us. The rock was maybe two meters tall at most. It made a good back-rest. (It was soft and smooth, too, though craggy -- so maybe it had been polished by years of backs sitting against it!)

But I thought that it would really hurt, if a wave washed all the way up here, and someone swimming in that wave were thrown against the rock. I wondered if this was really a good beach for swimming in after all. I'd heard of beaches that were too rocky for swimming. Maybe this was one.

A big wave may actually have made its way all the way up to us, washing against us and throwing me a bit against the wall. From this point forward, the father may have had long, frizzy hair and a scraggly beard.

I walked up to the top of the basalt outcropping. I lay on my stomach and looked out on the ocean. Even though the rock wasn't much higher than the beach, I noticed that when I looked behind me, over my right shoulder, I could see a city. Apparently I was on some island. But the island had a big city on it. I had a surprisingly good view!

I was possibly telling the father about this, when suddenly I noticed that I was lifting up into the air! I felt like I was lifting up on top of nothing. But the "nothing" felt solid, as if I were still laying on the rock. I was afraid to look down, though, to see exactly what was lifting me into the air.

I was afraid, too, of lifting up this high into the air. But I didn't show my fear about this, because I didn't want the father to think I was a chicken.

I eventually came to the conclusion that I had actually sat on some kind of ride this beach had. It was an elevator, I told myself, that lifted you all the way to the top of a skyscraper that was either on or near the beach.

I looked foward, over the ocean, for a while. But I then looked behind me, to the city. I was surprised by how much this island city resembled the city of New York. The buildings all had that old, stone look to them. I even saw one building with the trademark "NEW YORKER" light sign above it.

I was now getting so high in the air that I was starting to get uncomfortable. But I told myself that this elevator stopped at the top of the building. And I knew the building was 34 storied tall. If I could just hang on until then, I told myself, I'd be fine. So I calmed down. I think that I did then feel the elevator start to descend.

But I was now in the basement of some building. It was like the basement of a small, but really nice museum or art gallery. The hallway was narrow and "L" shaped. The Latino mother and father sat in a little window niche in the side of the hallway.

There was a narrow, kind of winding, stairwell up to the first floor. I may have been playing around on that stairwell for a little while, like a little kid would, even though I still had my own consciousness, like I was still myself, as a (so-called) adult.

I then came back down to the mother and father. I asked them if I could ride the elevator ride again. The father said no, I couldn't. If I got to ride the ride twice, then all the other kids would want to do it, too.

I said I agreed. We were almost ready to leave. But if I got to ride the ride twice, and then everybody else wanted to, we'd be waiting here forever for everybody to finally finish taking their rides.

I sat on some little bench somewhere. Across the hallway and off to my left was a kind of wide niche in the wall, with a counter before it. This must have been some kind of ticket or coat-check area.

On my side of the hallway, just next to me and on my left, was a doorway to a small office. This office may also have had something to do with ticketing.

One young man sat behind the desk, while another young man stood in front of it. Both men were kind of slim and pretty. The young man standing struck me as being gay. He had short, platinum blonde hair which shone like a silver plate under the incandescent office light.

Both the boys were friends. They may even have lived in the same apartment building, or only a couple buildings away from each other. So they saw each other all the time. They talked as friends for a moment. But the standing boy was here to take care of some kind of business.

Professionally, the standing boy was higher than the sitting boy. And, now that the standing boy was taking care of business, he was really driving the point home that he was higher. As the sitting boy was taking care of something for the standing boy, the standing boy began tapping the top of the recpetion desk and humming in a very annoying way.

Dream #3

It was daytime, or maybe morning, just after sunrise. I was driving through a grassy desert. I pulled my car off to the side of the road. I was at this specific place for a specific reason.

I was some kind of paranormal investigator. I may actually have thought of myself as a Fortean investigator. And this, I thought, was my first real Fortean investigation.

I stood out of the car, trying to "write up a report" in my head regarding whatever I was about to see. I was trying to think of some catchy headline.

I had an image in my head, which I thought was really clever, of a dark-raspberry colored ring. I knew this would lead to some kind of clever phrase.

But I now saw that, just off the road, there was a square-shaped billboard, starting maybe only three meters or so above the ground, with a picture of just what I had been imagining. The picture looked like a thick ring being pushed up through some kind of raspberry-colored syrup.

This billboard seemed only to be the left side of the advertisement. The right section -- the text part -- had been cut off. There may have been just a tiny sliver of it remaining.

Suddenly I felt stupid for having tried to put together a headline for my report before I'd even started my investigation of the subject. I also felt that the headline itself was really silly and cliched.

I turned to go do my investigation, when I was overwhelmed by a strong, almost magnetic, sensation coming from the sky. It was hard for me even to look up from the ground. But I did it.

At first, my view was all red -- a burning, but dimly glowing, orange red. But as my view cleared I saw, on the horizon, at the end of a flat expanse of land, what looked like a phantom sun.

The sun was a huge, glowing, orange-red ball. Its body was maybe four-fifths of the way above the horizon. But it was also translucent. I could see through the sun, to the sky.

This struck me as odd. But the sky itself was also odd. It was apple green -- a beautiful shade of apple green, blending its way down to pale yellow at the horizon!

I tried to figure out what this phantom sun was. I figured it was a reflection of the real sun against this side of the sun's dome. To test if this was correct, I looked behind me. Sure enough, the "real" sun was rising over the horizon behind me -- though it seemed to be rising over some small mountain peaks.

For some reason this satisfied me, and I was ready to begin my investigation. I walked across the street and onto some kind of cinder road. The cinder road went a short way off from the main road, then divided into two roads. I took the right road.

I was now down in a cave. The cave also forked into two caves at some point, and I was down in the right leg of the cave. The cave wasn't dark -- it was like it was lighted by little lights that ran along the floor. But it was kind of narrow and short. And it may have felt like it was getting tighter and tighter.

Apparently I'd had a colleague I'd come out here with: a young, black woman, dark-skinned, pretty skinny, with long, braided hair. But she'd gotten lost somewhere in the cave. I thought she'd either vanished into another dimension or gotten abducted by aliens.

At some point I may have been crawling on my belly through an extremely tight point in the cave. I was crawling with some white men, who were like police officer who had come to rescue me. I may have seen my colleague, lying on her back, dead. We were trying to get my colleague out of the place she was stuck in.

I was now above ground again. This whole area was the subject of a police investigation. Two fat, black police women were sitting on folding chairs near the cave entrance (which was basically just a hole in the ground, maybe with a tiny lip of a mound over it).

I walked away from the cave and off to the right. I could see some white police men wandering around through some tall grass and tree-like shrubs, apparently investigating whatever had happened here. They may have been searching for a body.

I was trying to piece together what had happened. I knew, now, that my colleague and I had come here to investigate. But while we'd been down in the cave, my colleague had suddenly disappeared.

I couldn't remember anything else. But I knew my colleague, unless she'd been abducted, must still be down in the cave. I needed to go back down and find her. But, honestly, now that I was above ground again, I was kind of afraid of going back down into the cave.

Nevertheless, I knew that I should at least face my fear and go back down into the cave. But I was also kind of afraid of the fat, black police women. I knew that if I went down into the cave without their permission, they might start all kinds of trouble for me, maybe even get me arrested.

So I asked the women if I could go back down into the cave. I was, now, actually kind of hoping that they'd tell me no.

But one of the women stood up. She was now kind of short, and very skinny. She had long hair, in a natural style, but pulled back into a kind of ponytail. She looked older, maybe sixty years old. She had to walk with a big, wooden walking stick.

The other woman, who was still fat and young, said, "I wish you wouldn't go down there. The police'll probably finish their investigation soon. And if we have to wait for you to wrap up, we'll be here even longer.

"But if you really want to go, we can't stop you. But she's going to come with you."

I was, honestly, relieved that the old woman was coming with me. I was really afraid to go into the caves by myself. But I was still afraid to go. I was partly afraid for myself -- regardless of who I was with, I thought, I could still get abducted, like my partner had.

But I was also worried about the old woman, who kind of looked to me like an older version of my missing colleague. If the old woman went down into the caves, and it was seen that she looked like my colleague, would she get abducted, too?

Good morning, everybody.

Happy holidays! The icy Dream Views logo is really fun. And the Santa Claus flying through the moon is cool, too.

Dream #1

It was night. I was either getting into or out of a car with my sister and my brother-in-law. The car was probably my sister's. It was a kind of short car, and it was packed all around by some bigger SUVs.

My sister was drunk, but she was trying to act like she wasn't. She was trying to act nice for my sake.

We now all got out of the car. The parking lot the car was in was in some downtown-like area. There was a really big, ominous-looking, tan-brick building right at the edge of the lot.

We walked out to the road, which felt very old and run-down. This place was like one of those downtowns that shut down completely at night. We were all alone here. The streetlights seemed like in a horror movie -- the light was all grainy, almost sepia-colored.

My sister was now not able to control her drunken appearance at all. She even asked, "Hey, isn't there some place we could pick up some booze?"

I knew there was a store somewhere -- maybe even just across the street and around the corner. I could even see the store, still open, like a chain drug store, its greenish fluorescent lights shining out through a window-wall in a stately, stone building.

But I figured I'd do what I could to keep us from going to that store. I think my brother-in-law felt the same way.

Somehow we decided we needed to go to the bathroom. I knew where there was a free public bathroom. We walked off to our right, toward some park-like area, then along a nice, stone walkway.

The light was just becoming blue with early morning, and there were already tourists out here -- it mostly looked like mothers and daughters.

We went to some area that looked like a fast food restaurant. It had the same color scheme as Dunkin Donuts, but with a lot more brown. And it was shaped like a wide, low public restroom in a park.

I knew that this bathroom had either been sponsored by the restaurant or was the restaurant itself. I probably thought the restaurant was McDonald's or Burger King. I think the restaurant itself was closed, but that the bathroom was always open.

I think we first walked through the restaurant's seating area, which was huge, but completely empty of people. I think we then walked through a concrete-floored, cinder-block-walled hallway that felt like it was a bridge over a road, between two buildings.

The three of us were now in the bathroom, which was a wide, concrete-floored, cinder-block-walled bathroom, like a really nice public bathroom in a park. But it may have had a Dunkin Donuts color scheme.

My sister was still drunk -- kind of wandering around randomly. But I myself was now really distracted. Eventually I decided I needed to use the bathroom. I went to a stall, so I could take a crap.

But I was having trouble closing the stall's door. It wouldn't stay closed. I was also trying to close it by twisting the little doorknob using a huge, wadded up piece of toilet paper. It was like I was afraid to touch anything in the restroom. So I was protecting my hands with toilet paper. But it was really hard to do anything with the amount of toilet paper I had in my hands.

Then, at some point, I felt some kind of erotic feeling. It related to the feeling of taking a crap. I thought I was going to do something really bad and gross in the stall. And it turned me on sexually. But I didn't want to get caught doing it.

Then a mother and daughter came into the restroom. I was kind of annoyed. I knew that if a couple of tourists were coming in, then that meant that a whole bunch of people would soon be coming into the bathroom. Everybody would know I was here, and they'd all start harrassing me. So I might as well leave now.

I might have walked back out of the stall, passed the mother and daughter, found my brother-in-law and sister, and walked back out into the long corridor.

Dream #2

It was a nice, sunny day. I was probably in the backyard of the house where my family lived while I was in high school. But the backyard was now three or four times as big as it was IWL, and it was filled with flowers. It was an incredibly huge, English-style garden! Where our garage had been, there was some big, shady kind of pagoda-like structure made of greyish, dark wood.

There were some little kids running around and playing in the garden. I thought of these kids as something like my friends or siblings. They were all angelically beautiful, like the golden-haired children of storybooks. I feel like they were all involved in some task. But I can't remember what it was.

My attention was caught by the huge, stalk-like plants near me. I couldn't put a name to them. They seem, now, to have looked like hollyhocks or foxgloves. But they weren't those flowers, either -- I'm pretty sure. They had a kind of fuzzy look. And some of them had bud-like centers: tight, green bulbs, inside a collar of thin, peach petals.

I was suddenly laying on my back. Our old dog, a cocker spaniel, was standing over me, vigorously licking, or "kissing," my lips. She was actually licking off a bunch of honey that I had on my lips.

Some voice in the distance (or in my head?), probably a child's voice, asked me either if my dog liked honey, or if my dog liked to kiss me.

Whatever the question was, I answered, "No, she's just getting the honey off my lips. She's really excited to go traveling. She loves to go places in the car. In fact, when she ----- (can't remember) -----, we'll probably get a nice car for her. Then she'll be happy to go!"

I now had an image in my head of a white, horse-drawn carriage, like a nineteenth century carriage. But the carriage was very short, proportioned, it seemed, to fit small children or dogs. And there was no top to the cabin of the carriage. It was flat and open, kind of looking like an ornate, white Radio Flyer wagon.

A man in a suit and top-hat sat in a small front area and drove the carriage. He may also have been holding a white, lace parasol.

I could see that there was a main seating area: a small square. But there was also a smaller, back rectangle, which, I now guess, could normally be used for luggage.

But I guess my dog was now dead, because she was stiff and motionless, and we had laid her in the back area, as if it were some kind of coffin for her, or a space that would have fit a coffin for her.

But I'm pretty sure the carriage wasn't taking my dog to a funeral, but to a wedding. And I may have been a part of the wedding. This was probably whatever I'd been referring to when I'd spoken to the voice. But I'm pretty sure this image didn't have anything to do with what I'd actually said.

Dream #3

I was in some kind of huge place, something like an old, French palace, mixed with a museum, mixed with an old, run-down, slummy apartment. The place was filled with all kinds of clutter -- boxes, junk, all over the place.

There were no lights on, and it was night. The only light coming into the place was extremely dim, orange light from the streetlamps outside.

There were a few other men in the structure with me. They were all in one room. The place was huge, but we were all sitting in just one room, which had a bunk bed and a computer desk in it, but which was so filled with junk that we could hardly fit ourselves into the room.

The men may have been Latino, and they may have spoken very little English. They seemed to be in their late thirties or early forties. They were short, a little overweight, and a little tough-seeming.

The men were being nice or indifferent to me. But I had a feeling that, as time wore on, they'd probably start annoying or harrassing me.

My mom now came into the room. I was happy just to have someone familiar to me in this environment. It kind of diluted the bad emotional sense I was beginning to get from these guys.

My mom looked a bit different. She was skinnier, and she had shorter hair. She sent me off to some other room. She told me that we were both getting up early tomorrow morning to take care of some task. She stressed the importance of getting up on time.

I was excited about the event. And even though it was already late, and that I wouldn't get very much sleep at all if I wanted to get up on time, I was really happy and determined to get up on time.

I lay down in bed and closed my eyes. Almost immediately, I re-opened them. I realized that I had woken up an hour late!

I ran out into the hallway to find my mom. It couldn't be true, could it? Had I overslept for the thing I was so excited for?

My mom was at the other end of the hallway. She said, "Yep, you overslept. But I wasn't going to wake you up."

I could tell my mom was disappointed in me. I felt horrible. But my mom now said something like, "Hurry up. If you just get your shit together and get out the door right now, we can still probably make it on time."

I was back in the room with the Latino men. Some of them were sleeping on the bunk bed. One was still up, sitting at the computer desk. The light was still dark. It was still very early morning, before sunrise.

I crouched before the bunkbed and began arranging something on the cuff of my right shirt sleeve for some reason. It was like I was peeling back my cuff and then twisting it back and forth. It felt like I was trying to put some kind of steel band around my wrist.

But I realized that I was just wasting my time doing this. My mom was probably out in the car, waiting for me. If I didn't hurry up, my mom would either leave me, or else she'd wait for me and we'd both be too late to make it to our task.

I stood up to get my shit together and go downstairs. But I was so unfocused. I really couldn't remember what the hell I needed to do. I didn't really know what I needed in order to get the hell out of here. And the Latino men didn't help. It was just like they were waiting for an excuse to distract me.

I now found myself in a car, an old, clunky station wagon, like the one I drove IWL when I lived out in the desert for a couple of years, working for the Park Service. The car was inside -- in one of the rooms of the house. I sat in the driver's seat. One of the Latino men stood just outside the door, looking in.

The car only had AM radio (IDL and IWL ). I had a plastic tub -- like the plastic tubs you get for various purposes during hospital stays -- filled with little, plastic knobs, each about 2cm in diameter. I had to put all of these plastic knobs onto various parts of the radio's face. Only after that would my shit be together enough so that I could leave.

But I couldn't fit all of these knobs onto the radio face! I think I managed to find ways to fit some of them onto the volume and tuning knobs. I also popped some of them onto the set-station buttons. And I may have tried to stick some onto the actual station indicator plate. But I was running out of space. And I had a ton of knobs left!

I was now by myself in a large hallway, probably inside an apartment. It was night, and the hallway was pretty dark.

I stood near the front door. The door was made of old, worn-out wood. I could feel something like a gentle wind whispering past the door. I knew it was some kind of presence. I partly thought it was a ghost. But I also thought it was some person -- or, a person coming, not a person who was actually there yet.

I knew that I was still a bit early. But as long as I kept aware of the situation, I'd see the person. Then I could meet the person just outside the apartment. I may actually have just thought of this person as only a breeze of wind.

I was now looking out through my door through a small, square window that was maybe 30cm directly above the doorknob. Looking out, I saw the dark sapphire sky of morning. I could see that out there was something like a brambly yard, which may have been something like a big, nice garden.

I was telling myself something very soothing, like the person who was coming to me was a very nice person, and that I had nothing to worry about or be afraid of.

I watched one or two people crossing my field of view. They were walking along some path, I think, that crossed between the garden and some much wider field. They were a man and a woman. A man may also later have crossed by himself.

I told myself, "See? See how nice they are? When they come for you, they'll treat you nicely. You have nothing to fear."

I was now outside. It was a bright, sunny morning. I was drifting up a very, very slight slope, on a long, wide lawn that led up to a sidewalk and an asphalt road.

I saw a man and a woman walking along the road, heading from the right to the left side of my field of view. The man and woman both looked like they were in their late thirties. But they wore clothes and had hairstyles like from the late 1970s. The man's hairstyle was particularly chunky and bowl-shaped.

The man and the woman seemed to be in a kind of peevish argument with each other. It scared me a little bit. I felt like if I got into their field of influence, they'd probably start getting all peevish and annoying with me.

But they were walking pretty quickly. And they were already away from me by the time I got up to the sidewalk.

Now that I was on the sidewalk, I noticed a few handfuls of people, all adults, walking toward a building. I realized that I was near a university campus.

The campus neighborhood reminds me now of my occasional visits to the Princeton campus. But the university building, which I saw off to my left, looked more like an elementary school mixed with a modern, suburban church building.

All the people walking toward the building seemed to be in their thirties and forties. There were men and women. Sometimes people were in groups, talking with each other. Other times they were walking alone.

Some of the people wore suits or formal attire. Others were wearing caps and gowns, like they were attending a graduation ceremony.

I also noticed that a lot of the women had very masculine faces. Some of the women were definitely women, just with very hard, squarish faces. But some of the people dressed as women may have been men.

As I got to the actual building, I realized that it was more like an elementary school. The adults I'd seen funnelling toward this area were actually teachers. They were all now dispersing toward different parts of the building: to their classrooms, I assumed.

I was in a square, concrete-floored courtyard of the building. There were a lot of kids running all about, rushing, I supposed, to get to their classes.

There were some adult women posted here and there, apparently to make sure that nobody was getting out of hand. I figured I'd ask one of these women either where I was, or where I was supposed to be. I didn't really know the answer to either of those questions.

I saw a woman posted just under the covering of the building, at the back, right corner of the courtyard. I figured I'd approach her and ask her what I was here for.

As I walked toward that woman, a girl wearing a pale pink sweater ran through the courtyard with a clear, plastic bottle of water.

One of the other women admonished the girl for some reason or another. The girl thought she was being really grown-up and helpful for doing something. But she was also using her task to avoid having to do some thing that all the girls her age needed to do. She knew this. So when the teacher admonished her, she listened.

But as I was about to reach the woman, some kind of alarm went off. The alarm was the prayer bell. Wherever you were, whatever you were doing, when the prayer bell went off, you had to stop, crouch down on your knees, bow your head to the ground, and start praying to god.

The ritual seems to me now to be Islam-influenced. But the prayer was more like a Christian prayer mixed with something like the United States Pledge of Allegiance.

I bowed, too, because I at least knew what all this meant. I was near a stairwell. A girl wearing a Muslim-style head-covering bowed near me.

As I looked at the floor, I noticed it was tiled in meter-square tiles looking like flecked granite. But this tile was all chipped away in a corner, so that almost a quarter of the tile was chipped into an oily blackness.

During the prayer-pledge, the girl in the pale pink shirt ran out of the doorway of a classroom near me. She had the water bottle again, and she was about to rush off somewhere. But the woman I was trying to approach told the girl to kneel down and pray, like everybody else.

The girl said something like, "Oh, yeah. Right." She didn't kneel down, though. She just sat, in some kind of athletic pose, with her back to the wall, and waited for the prayer to finish.

Something about the girl's face made me think she might have Down's Syndrome. But the girl was really smart and active. I liked her a lot.

When I got up from the prayer-pledge, I approached the adult woman. I had a feeling now that I was here for some kind of volunteer project with New York Cares. So I asked the woman if she knew where we volunteers were meeting. The woman pointed to the stairwell behind me and said that New York Cares was meeting up on the second floor.

But before I could go upstairs, a little girl grabbed my hand and told me to help her with her spelling. She dragged me over to something that looked like folding gym mats stood up on one side and w-folded, to look like a gym-mat version of Chinese screens.

Before the Chinese screen was a long, school-like table that was only 25cm or so above the ground. Both the little girl and I had to kneel to sit at the table. The table had a long sheet of paper across it. The paper was filled with items like multiple choice questions.

For each number, there may possibly have been questions, probably ridiculously inane questions, like, "How do you spell -----?" as if a kid wouldn't know how to spell a word he was looking right at. But there were no answers in the multiple choice spaces. It was just A, B, C, D, with no answers beside the letters!

I think what the little girl actually had to do was choose the correct letter, A, B, C, or D, and then correctly spell the word in the space beside that letter. I think the little girl may actually have explained this to me herself.

The little girl was probably learning impaired. But she seemed really smart, as well. She seemed to be doing well enough spelling for herself. And maybe she just wanted me around for the heck of it while she was doing her work.

But every once in a while I'd have to help her with spelling. At some point, I even chose, and circled?, the letter "C" on one of her questions. I also remember something about one of us writing in cursive.

Then the little girl's brother came up. He was also, apparently, learning impaired, though not as much as his sister. He may have been a bit younger than the girl. He was climbing all over both me and the little girl, though he mostly seemed to be climbing all over me. He really wanted my attention, and he wanted to prove, I think, that he was smarter than his sister.

At some point I stood up, as if my lessons for the little girl and boy were over. I told them they'd both done a good job.

But the boy wanted to see my cell phone for some reason. I was pretty sure that that was not a good idea, because I think I'd been looking on some sort of fetish website before I'd come here. The boy didn't need to be seeing any of that kind of stuff.

I then saw my phones screen, as if it were flickering on, like a TV would, with a bit of vertical hold striping a black screen, as the TV is getting started up and getting a hold of itself. The striping was yellow -- so it seemed to me that this was "effect" for a production, not real vertical hold striping.

There was then, probably, some kind of video, maybe starring Hyde from the j-pop band L'Arc en Ciel. But I can't remember anything about it.

Good morning, everybody.

Ugh! I let my dumb weekend chores spiral out of control. So I'm not making this entry until now!

Just as a note, the second dream was the closest thing to a nightmare that I've had in a long time. It wasn't very different from many of my other dreams. But, for some reason, it upset me a lot. I could hear myself screaming in the dream. I may actually have woken up screaming.

Dream #1

I was heading into the lobby of either an apartment building or a hotel. I had just moved out of my old place and into this new place. The lobby was really wide, but with a low ceiling and a kind of old, worn-out look. There was a little front-desk-type area at the back, right corner of the lobby.

I headed toward a small room on the left wall, near the front of the lobby. It was the mail room. There were a lot of aluminum mailboxes along the wall on my right side. But a lot of the mailboxes were busted open. Someone had broken into the mailboxes.

I was arfraid for my own mail. My mailbox may have been open. I had some mail in my box. But it did seem like something was missing.

I looked at my mail as I walked out of the room. One piece of mail was for some other apartment. The other piece may have been a door tag from FedEx, like what they leave on a door when they come to deliver a package, but the person isn't hme.

I thought I would either give the piece of wrongly delivered mail directly to the person it belonged to, or else give it to the person at the front desk. But I was kind of afraid to let anybody know that the mailboxes had been broken into. I didn't want the people who'd broken into them to cme after me.

For some reason I was getting ready to leave the apartment. A FedEx man was coming in at the same time. But instead of asking him about my package, I told him that someone had broken into the mailboxes.

Dream #2

A documentary about the effects of some sort of nuclear accident, probably in Russia, though I'm pretty sure it wasn't Chernobyl. The documentary was following the lives of people in a small town near the accident.

The people had all been exposed to radiation. But they hadn't been moved away from the area where they'd been exposed. Most of the people seemed to be women.

There was one woman in a bedroom that kind of looked like a hostpital room. The woman was by herself, with her baby, in the room. But the room had multiple beds (or low cots), some of which could be separated from each other by dark blue curtains.

The woman was walking back and forth with her baby cradled to her chest by means of some kind of blanket. The woman wore a dark green t-shirt and may have been pushed up above the navel of the woman's taut belly.

A narrator may have said something about how the woman was really ill from the effects of the radiation. Now the woman was laying in one of the low cots, holidng her baby close to her. The baby may then have changed into a three- or four-year-old girl. The girl may have been tending to the mother.

The view now closed up on the woman's right arm, which was loosely hanging off the edge of the bed. A nurse administered some kind of injection into the woman's arm.

But either the woman was so sick that her body couldn't take any more medicine, or else the injection had been administered wrongly, and now the woman's body was rejecting it. The woman's vein swelled into a square about 3 cm per side. Then the woman's heart stopped beating.

I couldn't believe the woman had just died! I was now in the room. I don't know where the daughter was. I don't know where the nurse was. I thought I was myself, by myself.

I was panicking. I didn't know what to do about the dead woman. I still didn't want to believe she was dead. I thought if I found somebody, they might be able to save her.

So I used my cell phone and called somebody who I thought could help. I was now out in what I thought was the lobby for a small, narrow apartment complex.

I got a hold of the person, probably a man. Suddenly I had to admit to myself that the woman was dead, and that that was what I was going to have to explain to the person. As I started talking to the person, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I was a woman, maybe in her mid- to late-twenties. I was either white or Latina. My skin was pale. I had kind of sharp, almost squarish features. I wore some kind of pale, powdery foundation, and my eyebrows seemed to be pencilled in. I also had my hair in tight braids, which seemed almost like dredds, except with a bunch of tiny tangles coming off of them.

I then walked toward either a blank wall or a white wall with a plain, white door on it. As I did this, I told the man I was speaking to that I had been the one to administer the shot to the dead woman.

When I suddenly realized or admitted that I had been the one that had killed the woman, I broke down. I was crying. But my voice was more of a terrified moan, which eventually became a low-pitched, loud scream.

Dream #3

I was in "my bedroom," which almost had the shape of my bedroom, but which was almost empty. There were some boxes along the back wall, near the left corner. But I noticed they had been pushed from the wall.

I was afraid that somebody had been in my room. BUt I was more worried about putting the boxes back into alignment.

When I looked closer, I noticed that what had probably pushed them out of the way was some really heavy box that had managed to slump over toward the wall in such a way that it wedged in between the other boxes and the wall, pushing the other boxes aside as it slid along the wall, down toward the floor.

I picked up the heavy box. It was apparently a Christmas package I'd received. I figured I'd just need to open the package now and put the contents wherever they belonged in the house, so that the box would stop interfering with the order of my other boxes.

I opened the package. A wine bottle was inside. I pulled it out. The green bottle was encased in a white, plastic square, and it had a white, plastic, pull-off top.

I must have done something with the bottle. But now I was standing near the front wall of my room. The lights had been on before. But now they were off. The only light in the room was coming from my hallway or bathroom.

I was looking at my room, proud of how clean and spacious it looked, now that I'd organized things so well. But I now noticed that I had a cluttered pile laying a meter or so away from my back and right walll. The pile was mostly clothes, though there may also have been a blanket or beanbag chair.

I sighed, annoyed that I'd have to clean this stuff up before I could truly think I had a clean room. I lifted up a maroon, button-up shirt made out of some flannel-like material. I folded it. I folded another piece of clothing. I eventually worried that someone, somehow, might discover that I also had female clothing in this pile.

Dream #4

One of the very first episodes of the TV show Full House. Almost everybody in the cast was different.

The house itself also looked a lot different, like a mix between the house in Growing Pains and the house in Family Ties. There was a staircase on the left side of the room, near the front door. At the foot of the staircase was a big piano.

The dad and Uncle Jesse had kind of secretly worked to buy a doll for the middle daughter of the family. (Uncle Jesse may have been John Stamos, but the dad wasn't Bob Saget.) The two men wanted to make up for something really aggravating that had happened to the girl, and had probably been their fault.

So the two men left the doll sitting on top of the piano. The room was now empty, though I had an image in my mind's eye of the older daughter, who was the same person as in the regular show, except that she had really straight hair and wore eyeglasses.

The middle daughter now walked into the house. She was different from the daughter in the regular cast. She saw the baby doll laying on the piano top. Surprised, she rushed to the doll and picked it up. She walked up the stairs with it.

The doll wore no clothes, probably had a white, cloth body, and plastic limbs, and was either bald or had plastic "hair" molded onto her head.

Somehow this plain old cloth and plastic doll managed to pee. She just let out a huge gush of water, getting the daughter's front all wet.

The daughter's appearance had changed. She now looked like a "rebel girl" or "skater girl" kind of TV show character. She cried out, "Oh, god! You peed all over me!"

The daughter needed to clean herself off. But now the whole scene started over again. But everything that had already happened was still remembered by the characters.

The doll was placed, by an unseen erson, on the piano top. For a moment, the camera view closed in really tight on the doll, who seemed to be surrounded by a tiny square of little, wooden bars, almost like a mini, doll-sized railing that had been built onto the piano top.

The daughter ran in and picked it up, this time without any surprise or excitement. The daughter may also still have needed to clean the pee off herself.

But now the daughter, walking up the stairs, started saying things to the doll like, "Oh, yeah! I really like you! You're really sexy!"

I wondered why this girl would find a doll so sexy, and I wanted to see more, to see howthis relationship would develop between the girl and the baby doll that she found sexy.