• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

    View RSS Feed

    Recent DJ Posts

    1. Organization and Device

      by , 09-16-2017 at 03:16 PM
      Morning of September 16, 2017. Saturday.

      Reading time: 3 min 34 sec. Readability score: 75.

      My dream atypically begins in liminal space of the type that is usually an end marker, which a parking lot represents. The main characters other than myself are Ray Romano from “Everybody Loves Raymond” though his wife is Jane Wyatt as from the much older television show “Father Knows Best.“ Ray, Jane, their fictional daughter (who seems like a young version of Zsuzsanna, though my dream self does not recognize her as such), and I are in a dark blue pickup truck. I am in the cab, but I later ride in the back with their daughter.

      An additional recurring dream state indicator (other than the parking lot) is the pickup truck itself (due to the play on “bed”). The first situation relates to an appointment made by her parents (I assume with no choice in the matter), because of a government agency coming to take their daughter to place her in a group home for specialized foster care. When other men arrive, parking at a distance from the truck, I take out a small cylindrical rod with a button on one end. I push it, and it transforms into a large pistol. I shoot at the car. After my third shot, it explodes dramatically and consumes four or five unoccupied cars near it.

      An unknown man on the opposite side of the truck looks on in a puzzled manner. He does not leave the area of his car. He stands behind its open driver’s side door. So as I do not get found with a gun on me, I press a button on the gun’s handle, and it changes back into the small rod.

      I ride in the back with their daughter. I tell Ray to drive down a particular road. Curiously, there are automatically operating French doors set up across part of it. (They are not a part of a building.) We go through these doors. I explain to their daughter about her need to grow up in a family environment with her real parents instead of by the government, which often results in cognitive dissonance through half-attained brainwashing. We talk for a long time, though I do not recall every detail. I agree with her that while some parents are not capable of viably raising children, that does not mean the government should have all children under their observation or utilize profiling based on race or cultural background.

      I am aware of owning an expansive organization and area of land in which people live as they want as long as there is no crime. We arrive there, and the family makes plans for their living arrangements.

      Before the three new people move into their new home, I talk about the confirmation of their state of health. The daughter says I am not a doctor. “Yes, I am,” I confidently reply.

      I press a button on my device, and it transforms into an unusual machine. Parts grow out as a result of nanite activity. It resembles an oversized embossing label maker. The girl kneels down, and I look at the top of the device as I hold it directly over her head. It has scanned her entire body for any health issues and reports (by the print that appears on the surface of the top) that there are no concerns. I have Jane kneel as well. The device does not display any potential problems. Ray seems to have a cholesterol issue, but I will address that later.

      An unfamiliar young black man is present. He seems to know me well. I ask him how his friends and family are. They are well. I go into a large room that has an ambiguous outdoors area on one side (a commonly recurring dream distortion that is impossible to resolve consciously). There are others in the room. One male is hunting for food. He shoots at a strange figure that runs behind trees and to the left. “Was that the Tasmanian Devil?” I ask cheerfully (though it looked more like a bizarre cartoon rabbit with human legs and wearing track shorts).

      I feel a change in my level of consciousness, so I go down a flight of steps to vivify my dream. (This is even though I am not lucid. However, long-term knowledge of reactive representation often carries over into the dream state).

      I am in a featureless field (a dream setting that represents an "empty” area of waking space). I decide to fly but not that far above the ground. I fly stomach down and use my arms to gain speed by pushing down against the ground to propel myself forward. I enjoy this more and more. I feel it will make me stronger in the arms while not tiring the rest of my body. I am aware of Leonard S (my pinhead friend from King Street). He is standing near a storefront that comes into view to my left. I am also aware of an older unknown male whom I feel may benefit from flying in the way I am as I consider he may need to strengthen his heart muscles in a less stressful way. (He seems about seventy years old.) I continue to fly this way. When I wake, my right hand is pushing down on the mattress though I am only partly on my stomach by way of my left side.

      Updated 07-23-2018 at 12:23 PM by 1390

    2. Landlord’s Pickup Truck in our Lounge Room

      by , 09-06-2017 at 10:27 AM
      Morning of September 6, 2017. Wednesday.

      I am with my wife Zsuzsanna as we are living in our present home as it is now. Our landlord, whom we have rarely ever seen in real life, somehow managed to have had his grayish blue pickup truck parked in our lounge room (yet there was no backstory to how this could have happened). It faces east, oriented left to right when looking towards our front door. My dream self does not consider the impossibility of this situation. I am somewhat annoyed. Apparently our landlord had parked it here to work on for a time, to fully repair it.

      In the bed of the pickup truck are a number of small parts. There is also a blue tarpaulin covering the bed. I make a sarcastic comment that our landlord will probably take months to fix up his pickup truck. (This is based on the real-life association of how he takes a year or more to fix up houses he owns.) I am not really looking forward to our landlord spending so much time in our lounge room working on his pickup truck over the coming months.

      Meanwhile, I had been looking at a dream-related website that I had posted on in real life (though not as often as my main sites). I look over the posts I had made one by one, though at times, it is more as if I am looking at entries in an actual dream journal of the style of when I was a teenager. Still, there is a heart symbol indicating how many people had liked a dream post. I clearly notice that the number 45 appears to the left of one red heart symbol. (This is in error, as the heart symbol on the website in real life is blue. However, the heart symbol on another site, tumblr, becomes red when clicking on it.) It surprises me that 45 people took the time to click to “like”, especially as the majority of people, as to be expected, seem to have no interest in my personal truths regarding over fifty years of dream study and personal validation. I also notice other numbers such as 23 (for older posts). The numbers seem to increase with later posts.

      The pickup truck in my dream was validated in very early childhood to have two primary meanings, though which is more of a synthesis of parallel symbolism. One, a pickup truck has a “bed”, and is thus a distorted dream state indicator. In this case, there is even a tarpaulin over the bed, which represents a blanket on a bed (and being in the dream state). More so, the pickup truck is in our lounge room, where I have sometimes fallen asleep in the same area (while watching television), though with my head westerly, not easterly as with the front of the pickup truck - though I suspect this relates to my general dislike of commercial television. Two, a vehicle as such (including cars, boats, and airplanes), in addition to being related to a distortion of a bed after entering sleep, is also directly analogous to the human body. The truck is parked, relating to the fact that I am in a certain level of consciousness, that is, not yet in the waking transition. The repair work associated with the personified preconscious (in this case, our landlord) relates to the preconscious as a biological necessity which assists in both waking as well as linking to other levels of the mind for cellular repair. There have been numerous dreams since childhood with this same basic symbolism, though rendered uniquely each time. There is no intelligent reason to pretend the truck is something else other than the parallel symbolism of my physical body, and my body as it is in bed, especially as it is indoors in our house (not on a street outside) and a direct factor of the preconscious. Despite me being typically annoyed by the preconscious and its imposition into the environments of my dreams, it is a biological necessity. It ultimately has nothing to do with waking life personas in this case.

      Additionally, consider the heart symbol. This relates to the physical body as well; the human heart. The number I notice is 45, which I assume is an age reference, especially as the numbers are seen to increment over time. It may relate to a particular instance when I was 45 in contrast to how my heart is now, though I have not looked fully into it yet.

      Of course, the last, but not least, obvious dream state indicator is the dream-related website. Still, this did not trigger full lucidity, mainly due to having used the site in real life. Computer technology as somehow rendered into paper and notebooks is a commonly recurring feature, likely a carryover from having kept dream journals from early childhood on, long before computer technology was viable for storing dream data.

    3. 16 Jan 2016: Tourettes Guy.

      by , 01-16-2016 at 10:52 PM
      There were other dreams, but this is the last one:

      I was in a yard, I don't think it was my own. There was a red pickup truck in the yard and the Tourettes Guy was outside, by the truck and kind of under it. At some point, either while I was walking towards a house or when I got to the house and was looking out the door, loud music started playing out of the truck and the Tourettes Guy was yelling things like "HOLY F%$!"
    4. Trying to find Manei (LD# 103)

      by , 08-15-2014 at 03:13 PM (Lucid Time!)
      So I'm in my bedroom (dreaming of course) but it looks a little bit different. All of the furniture along the back wall is gone and there is a giant computer screen on the wall. I'm not entirely sure if it was being projected by something on the ceiling or it was actually a huge flat-screen imbedded into the wall. The picture was really clear and it looked to have been simply a giant screen in the wall.
      Nevertheless, I was able to do things via voice command. I can remember having a browser open, I think it was FireFox. I was goggling things with voice commands. I can remember goggling this really long set of three prhases but I cannot recall what they were. I could feel myself becoming sleepy.
      I decided to google stuff about lucid dreaming, perhaps look at some youtube videos about LDing before I fell asleep. So I googled 'Lucid Dreaming' then lost it.
      I had a few seconds of imagery and found myself in a field.

      Thus began another one of these lucid dreams.
      From what I can recall the feild was fairly wide, perhaps a quater mile by a quarter mile. Surrounding it is a thick forest. There are dirt roads meeting at a four-way intersection in the middle. In one quarter, there was a small drive and what looked like the foundation of a house. There were also a couple of out-of-place trees here.
      It was very hot here. There were two suns beating down here. One of them was huge. If I were to hold my hand up and from the base of my wrist to the tip of my middle finger was about the height of the larger sun. The smaller one was perhaps twice the size of the sun IWL. The twin suns gave a dingy yellow aura to the sweltering air.
      I then saw a Frisbee and a Bicycle ride past me. I then 'remembered' a famous artwork done by a master lucid dreamer who had seen a Frisbee and a Bicycle racing. I also 'remembered' that recreating one of this lucid dreamers' classic lucid dreams was a task of the month on DV (Can I get wings for this?) .
      I begin to chase after them. The bike is small, for a child. It may have had training wheels still on it. It is black and green with the word 'Huffy' in white letters on the side. And it was moving under its own power. The Frisbee was red and had some text in it that I couldn't read because it was spinning. The Frisbee hovered along at an impossibly low speed to keep pace with the bike.
      As the two objects entered the four way intersection at the center of the field, they began flying. (Well the Frisbee was already flying but you know what I mean.) The bike began flying as well. I chased after them, started flying, and tried to grab on. But when I did, I felt some kind of magical field around the two break and they both fell into the tall grass below.

      Lucidity goes full throttle. I then turn to see a white pickup truck pull into the drive where the house foundation is. I want to see if Manei is in there. I fly down and land by the drivers side window. No. It's just my aunt. She is wearing these really narrow sunglasses that look something like the commander data visor from Star Trek.
      Undaunted, I still want to find Manei.
      "Have you seen Manei?"
      “Yeah… she looked like a...sort of a…fleshy thing.”
      "Yeah, no crap, She's a human! Also, those sunglasses you are wearing look a little dorky... Just a little."
      "I know." She sounds sort of sad, as if I were supposed to like the sunglasses. but I get the inkling that she is joking.
      "Well where did you see her?"
      "I found her in a Boygen."
      "What's a Boygen?"
      "They are pods that fall from orbit with people in them."
      She gestures to a corner of the field. I can see an egg-shaped pod barely big enough to fit a person. The inside has filled with dirt and there is grass growing out of it.
      I get a vision of my aunt helping her get out of the pod in another location. Coming out of these pods is like coming out of an egg.
      I then begin walking along one of the roads, then running. I am determined to find my guide. I think my aunt started driving the pickup truck to follow me. I begin staking across the ground as we head into the woods and find ourselves in some apartment complex.
      The dream started to blur as we were making our way down the road and I found myself inside a beautiful asian-styled building. I stabilized the dream to prevent anymore unwanted transitions between locations by rubbing my hands together. As I did, I thought about how my hands were just part of the dream.
      I began yelling for Manei, saying her name over and over. I could tell she was close, but she wasn't responding.
      "I'm right here!" I recognize my dad's voice.
      "I'm sorry but you're not who I am looking for!"
      "Too bad, I'm coming!"
    5. 1st Shared Dreaming Experiment - Thebeastofold's Dream

      by , 12-31-2011 at 08:35 PM (International Oneironaut Shared Dreaming Journal)
      Thebeastofold's Dream

      Ive been fighting sa nasty cold lately so ive been sleeping under the influence of nyquil..so only dream fragments this time unfortunately...

      Fragment 1:

      I was trying to re-position my big tv but it seemed to be made of rubber and kept flopping and folding in half etc...

      Fragment 2:

      i was wandering around the backroom of a grocery i used to work for many yars ago...i found a door behind pallets of goods that to my knowledge wasnt there before..so i walked through it and i was in a strange gym type place, full of cubicles and each cubicle was a different sport or workout station...one was "tennis" and there were 3 or 4 people standing there dressed in tennis clothes holding rackets and talking to each other...

      Fragment 3:

      I was walking down an odd hall and i noticed the guy infront of me had a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, so i got right up behind him and grabbed themout of his pocket, then i took a quick right turn and was in another hallway...

      Fragment 4:

      i was standing in a large dirt parking lot somewhere, and i was watching a huge RV followed by a pickup truck driving up an extremely steep dirt road that zig-zagged up the side of ana lmost sheer cliff in the distance...

      Fragment 5:

      I was wandering around in a huge mansion type place, and everywhere i went there seemed to be preparations for a big party, or something other activity...and i kept running into a guy with a smoking pipe in his mouth...every time i ran into him he would start telling me about something that had nothing whatsoever to do with the house or whatever was going on.....dont rememebr what he said exactly... woke up...
    6. japanese doll; alex' friend dies; haunted bathroom; cemetery drive; chicken mouth; old co-worker

      by , 11-23-2011 at 04:19 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was walking through the hallways of a school, possibly walking faster than usual. I headed into one classroom, off to my right. The classroom was big and bright, partly with morning light and partly with fluorescent ceiling lights.

      The front half of the classroom seemed empty of desks. But right at the front were three microphones, spaced about two meters apart from each other.

      One or two girls, maybe around twelve years old, may have been standing at the microphones. The girls may have been dressed very primly.

      The girls were going to give some kind of presentation for this class, which was a Japanese class. The presentation would be some kind of recital, maybe even a mini-concert.

      One of the girls may have asked me about my presentation. I realized I had to give one, too, even though I probably wasn't prepared.

      I was now "upstairs," in some room with my sister. The room had furnishings in it like might be found in a bedroom or living room. My sister may even have thought of this room as her bedroom.

      My sister was getting ready to go "downstairs" to school. She was going to bring a baby doll to Japanese class, as a kind of show and tell project.

      My sister had the baby doll sat up on the floor. The doll's legs were stretched out in front of it. My sister put a diaper on the baby doll. But the diaper was huge on the doll -- so huge that only the doll's head poked out.

      I didn't want to make my sister feel bad. I wanted her to feel like she'd done a good job of putting a diaper on the doll. But I may have made some joke about how the doll looked.

      I may then have told my sister that she should use a smaller diaper on the baby doll. But I couldn't think of what kind of diaper would be appropriate.

      Dream #2

      An episode of the 1980s TV show Family Ties. Alex Keaton was in the kitchen. He'd just heard that one of his best friends had died, right after leaving Alex' house. Alex was upset. He made some kind of sarcastic comment in a shaky voice.

      Alex was about to leave the house, either to go to the hospital or to go to the funeral. But his family stopped him. Alex' mom Diane told Alex that the family would leave the house together. Diane told Alex he wasn't to blame for his friends death. So he should just relax and go with his family.

      Everybody in the family left the house. They were all -- including Alex -- wearing hooded sweatshirts or hooded parkas. The hoodies were all in pale or pastel colors.

      The family was now in front of a door to what looked like another suburban house. I knew this wasn't the hospital or the friend's funeral. I was wondering if Alex' family wasn't purposely trying to keep him from going to his friend's funeral.

      Diane again, while waiting for the door to be answered, reminded Alex that it wasn't his fault his friend had died. So, she told him, he should just relax and take his time in getting to the funeral.

      The family all now walked in through what looked like a mix between a fancy restaurant and a living room, lit by natural light coming in through a big window at the back of the room. They all sat down -- probably at a couple different tables.

      The family was waiting for some kind of social engagement, possibly having to do with someone who would give the family money. I knew this had nothing to do with Alex going to see his dead friend at the hospital or funeral.

      Dream #3

      I walked into a school bathroom. The walls were a brown-painted concrete, and the walls were of glossy, pale-tan, wide bricks. The light was a greenish fluorescent. I had to walk through a tiny passage to get to the main area of the bathroom.

      I felt like I was all alone. But then I heard somebody's voice. It sounded like the person was annoyed that I was in the bathroom, so they were trying sigh and breathe out loudly to make me feel bad for being around.

      Out of nowhere some faucet on the wall to my right sprayed me with a bunch of water. It only hit the outside of my right leg. And it was only on for a second. But the force of the water was so strong that my pant leg was soaked.

      I was a little afraid. I didn't know how the water could have turned on and off, all by itself. For some reason, I assumed that only a poltergeist could have done something like that. (???) So I now thought the bathroom was haunted.

      I walked back into the main area of the bathroom. There were toilet stalls on the back wall, to my right, and either urinals or sinks on front wall, to my left.

      I heard the man's voice sighing, like the person was annoyed that I was here. Suddenly one of the bathroom stall doors slammed violently shut. I had been looking toward the urinals or sink. When I looked at the bathroom stall doors, they all looked equally shut.

      The slam of the stall door, though, had been so violent that I was sure the person wasn't just annoyed, but was really angry that I was around. I was pretty sure I was going to get attacked. I thought the person had hid in one of the stalls so that when I went to a stall, I would get surprise-attacked.

      I looked under the doors of the stalls from a distance. But I didn't see any feet. I thought the person may be hiding from view by standing on the toilet seat. But I suddenly felt like there really wasn't anybody here after all.

      I thought I would use the bathroom. But I felt like if I went to the urinal, I would get surprise-attacked while my back was turned. So I just decided to leave the bathroom.

      I walked into a school hallway. I was walking really fast. My pants leg was still wet from the faucet spraying on me. I didn't want to be seen like this. I wanted to get to wherever I was supposed to be, so I could just sit down and hide my leg.

      A black man, who I guessed was a teacher, came walking down the hallway. He was a bit taller than me, skinny, with long dredds covered in a hat and wearing a white t-shirt. As I walked past him in the hallway he seemed to try to indimidate me in some way or another.

      I got toward the end of the hallway. There were a couple of fat, black women, who I also thought of as teachers, gabbing with each other in the hallway. They saw me and seemed to peer at me, as if they were thinking of some way to bother me.

      A really pretty black woman, also a teacher, I thought, in a purple tank-top and tight blue jeans, walked down the hall. She got directly in my way, so I moved all the way to the right, out of her way.

      But she got back in my way. I walked really fast, figuring I'd just have to bump into her if she didn't move. But she got out of the way just in time so that we only brushed against each other.

      I was kind of turned on by how smooth, and slightly muscular, the woman's arm was. But the woman only seemed to be annoyed that I didn't try to get even further out of her way. I had been right up against the wall as it was!

      Dream #4

      I was in a National Park with my family. We were at the visitor's center, which was a complex of one-story buildings and a long, narrow-parking lot surrounded by a Southwestern kind of forest of pine trees. It may have been late afternoon -- the sky was dim and silvery grey-blue.

      My mom's old boyfriend, N, oversaw this park. He was, apparently, going to be busy doing some stuff with my mom and the rest of my family, like showing them around the park. So either he or my mom asked me to take care of something for him.

      My job was to take an urn with the ashes of somebody who had just died to a cemetery in the park. The person who had just died may have been a friend of N. But it may have been N himself. (???)

      So I took either the park-owned pickup truck or N's personal pickup truck and drove it down some wide path in the park to get to the cemetery.

      The pickup truck was really big. But the path was wide enough to accommodate two of these trucks, like a two-lane road. I kept to the right side of the road, as if I were driving on a regular road in the US.

      The path was asphalt, but it also had a coppery, gravel- or cinder-strewn look to it. On either side of the path were dense stands of tall, leafy shrubs.

      A white mother, tall, blonde, and pretty, though with a kind of worn-looking face, was walking back down the path, back toward the visitor's center.

      The mother's little girl, maybe two or three years old, had come toddling up ahead of her. The little girl wore a black dress that didn't go much farther down than her waist, and exposed a big diaper. The girl's blonde hair was done up in a top-knot, or a ponytail on the very crown of her head.

      I had to brake fast to avoid hitting the little girl. But I stopped in time. The little girl ran off to the left side of the road. The mother called to the little girl and seemed grateful that I politely stopped and didn't make a big deal about the little girl running all over the road.

      I drove on a bit more without encountering anybody else. I was proud of myself (???) for not having hit the little girl. But suddenly a gnawing suspicion came into my mind. What if I'd actually hit tons of little girls with the pickup truck so far -- but the truck had been so big, and the girls so little, that I hadn't even noticed?

      I now came on a group of black people, mostly fat women. They were spread all over the road, talking and laughing with each other. I kept to the right side of the road. But now they all veered over into the way of my truck!

      I pulled as far over as I could -- there was now a shoulder of grass to the side of the road, and I was trying not to hit that. But the women seemed to be trying to "spook" me into driving into it, by getting in my way.

      I decided to just stop the truck altogether until the women passed. As I did, I twisted the truck (or else the truck slid as it braked) so that it took up half the road.

      The women saw that I wasn't going anywhere. So they'd either have to walk onto the grassy shoulder or move over to the left side of the road. They all moved out of the way of the truck. I started driving again. But as the women passed me, they all gave me the evil eye.

      I drove on a bit more. I was now kind of worried that those women would sic some men on me to "pay me back" for having made them move.

      I just wanted to get to the cemetery and take care of my job. But I realized that I didn't really know where the cemetery was. I hoped it was close. But I didn't know if it was going to be far down the path, deep into the forest.

      And, I thought, once I got to the cemetery -- if I were even able to spot it -- what would I do there? Would someone be waiting to take the urn from me? What was I supposed to do with the urn?

      I thought I might even have to "bury the body" myself. I imagined myself having to dig a six-foot-deep grave. But then I imagined that there was already a hole dug in the ground for me, and that all I'd have to do was fill it after I'd put the "body" inside.

      I came up to a fenced-off area to my right. I could tell this was the cemetery. I stopped the truck on the side of the road.

      I looked at the cemetery through the pickup truck's window. The area was a well-groomed lawn about the size of a football field. Through the middle of it ran a concrete path, about the size of an average sidewalk. In the center of the cemetery was a huge, concrete column. The lawn was dotted with flat, plaque-like grave-markers, most with colorful bouquets placed on them

      I opened the car door, as if I were getting out to go into the cemetery.

      Dream #5

      I was somewhere -- possibly in bed! -- eating a chicken drumstick. I was eating it in some weird way, like taking swiping bites off of it, so that I'd bite down at the tip of the meaty part and then tear down all the way to the bony tip.

      But in one bite I'd rubbed the greasy joint of the bony tip against the left corner of my mouth. I was disgusted. I could feel that the corner of my mouth and a good section around it were now all gross and greasy.

      I got really panicky and decided I needed to go wash my face off right away. I couldn't seem to get enough motion into my body, though, to do this, and I just got more and more panicked.

      Suddenly I "woke up." I sat up in bed in the dark. I knew the whole "chicken leg" scene had just been a dream. But I still felt really gross, and I still wanted to go wash my face.

      But all I could manage to do was thrash around in bed, going from a sitting position to one where I was half-crawling and half-laying, facing the bed.

      I somehow managed to look at my alarm clock. I saw that it was only 2:37 AM. I told myself I should really be getting back to sleep.

      Dream #6

      A view of my old co-worker, DC, possibly as he stood over me while I sat at a desk.
    7. 2011-03-26.2f | nonlucid

      by , 03-31-2011 at 02:42 AM (Short Stories with Tragic Endings)
      This dream is 3rd person camera view

      Edward Norton is being chased by cops for comitting murder or something. He is driving
      a red pickup truck. The cops finally pull him over and check his car. They find a gun. His
      grandmother comes out of a nearby house and claims he is innocent. A guy is after him for
      The dream ends.
    8. The Gypsy Ship

      by , 06-03-2008 at 05:00 AM (Visions in the Dark)
      Most of the general items and fashions in this dream appear to be from the mid to late 1800s, though most of the transportation machines that appear look like they came from the 1930s-40s.

      I am a Gypsy and travelling but do not know my destination. I appear to be in my late teens and have nothing with me except for the ragged brown dress and light blue handknit sweater I am wearing. My meager worldy possessions are in a faded green corderoy bag. I am alone and very pregnant. I do not know where the father is as he is never mentioned in the dream. I feel mistrustful of most of the people that appear in this dream, as well as unfairly judged by them because of my youth and pregnancy.

      At the beginning of this dream I am sitting in a glass bus terminal on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere. It is night time and raining hard. The only nearby lighting is old fashioned oil burning street lamp which really does not supply a lot of light. Beyond the immaediate area around the lamp and a little bit inside the terminal everything is utterly, pitch black. I can see faint yellow and red lights flickering in the distance, but I have no idea what they are. I am waiting for a bus that will take me to a nearby port. There lies a ship that I know I am supposed to board but I do not know how because I have neither money nor a ticket.

      After a while of sitting a bus does come along and it appears that it came from the 1950s or early 60s. There are several unsavory looking men taking up most of the seats at the front of the bus so I head to the empty seats at the back. They all stop talking and leer at me as I walk by which makes me feel nervous and fearful. The bus is well lit and clean and I stare out the window as it travels, though I can still see nothing through the darkness outside. I am uncomfortably aware of the men at the front talking quietly amongst themselves then shooting leering glances in my direction and laughing coarsely.

      The bus arrives at the port and all of the passengers disembark. It then turns around and drives back the way it came, eventually disappearing into the darkness. The lighting of the port is dim but much better than at the bus stop. The only ship in the port is docked beside the only building, which is multistoried, made of concrete and painted white. I am not sure exactly where to go so I cautiously follow the group of men who also disembarked from the bus, but they do not head towards the ship like I hope and instead go to a pickup truck parked on the far side of port and drive off.

      There is a large group of people outside a set of glass doors and they appear to also be Gypsies seeking passage on the ship. A man with a goatee and dressed in a black navy uniform stands between the people and the door and is telling everyone that they cannot board the ship. Many of the Gypsies hand the man wads of cash or jewelry and he quickly waves them inside. It is not long before most of the people are inside and the few who were rejected linger around the port. The rain no longer pours and slows down to a gentle trickle. An elderly Gypsy couple arrive late and convince the man at the door to let me in along with them. He accepts only when they produce an acceptable bribe.

      Once on the ship we join with the rest of the Gypsies and are told that there is no rooms available and the only space available is on the floor in secluded halls and storage rooms or out on the deck. Everyone scrambles to find space inside and the few unlucky ones who have to go out onto the deck try to find spots out of the wind and rain. Because we are the last ones to board, the elderly couple and I try to make ourselves comfortable undernearth a lifeboat, but it is hard to crawl under for them because of their age, and for me becuase of my bulging belly.

      I do not know how much time passes, but the ship is far out at sea and though it is still dark, the ambient lighting of the scene allows me to see practically everything. The rain has stopped but the temperature drops drastically, almost to the point where I can see my breath. I am laying on the open deck looking up at the sky. It is overcast with thick, dark grey and maroon coloured clouds. I stand up and look over the rail. The water is choppy and dark, and I can see icebergs in the distance all around the ship. An old man who looks like the captain of the Titanic (as portrayed by Bernard Hill in James Cameron's film) dressed in a white and blue navy uniform comes out and asks me if I would like to sleep inside. When I say yes he takes me to a room with eight cots in it. The small beds look like hospital gurneys and have lime green burlap blankets on them. The room is devoid of people but seven of the beds look like they have been slept in and have bags and coats thrown around nearby I recognize the possessions as Gypsy in origin. There is one bed left and it is in the far corner of the room against the wall. I lay down upon it, using my corderoy bag as a pillow, and fall asleep almost immediately.

      I have a dream within a dream.

      I am sitting on a bench outside of the white building back at the port when an old fashioned pickup truck drives up and stops in front of me. The leering men on the bus are in the truck and they try to convince me to get in with them. I say no and try to ignore them, but two jump out of the back of the truck and grab me by the arms and try to force me into the vehicle. I kick and scream and out of nowhere a police officer with short black hair and dressed in a modern uniform appears and tells the men to let me go. He then warns them to leave and not come back. The leering men get back into their truck and mumble angrily as they drive off. The police officer encourages me to keep going on my journey before disappearing as mysteriously as he appeared.

      I wake up to a room filled with people. The other Gypsies have returned and most of them are not happy to see me as they paid heavily in bribes to get into that room and I was given a bed for free. Some of them also vocalize their disapproval of the shame of me being a single unwed mother, especially one travelling alone, but they speak to each other and not address me directly. I ignore their jeers and go out to visit the kind elderly couple on the deck, but they are nowhere to be found. It is still dark and icebergs still surround the ship but there are more of them and they are much closer. The ship seems to be heading for a large featureless landscape in the distance that looks like either a beach with cliffs or a glacier.