Recent DJ Posts

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was with a big group of people. We were in an area that looked like the large reading room of the New York Public Library. But it was also something like a high school gymnasium. The group I was with was probably a church group, though it may have been part of a church-school.

I was up on a balcony level, crouched down or sitting down near the floor. There were a few other people up here with me, including a teacher, who sat behind me.

We looked down on the main area, where a lot of other people were. That area may have been floored with brownish gym mats. There may have been an occasional school desk. There were a decent amount of students down there. Everything felt kind of cluttered.

We had all been given a lesson by somebody who was probably speaking into a microphone from some pulpit at the other end of the room from those of us on the balcony. It was some lesson about Christian history.

We now had to do an in-class exercise based on the lesson. The exercise was some kind of role-playing game. I think we all had to imagine ourselves as some saint, who had been the subject of the lesson. We then had to imagine ourselves into the environment of the saint.

A classmate of mine, a boy maybe eleven or twelve years old, wanted me to come with him on the role-playing game. I was probably going to go along with him.

But my teacher, a pretty, blonde woman, yanked me back from the boy. She told me the boy was distracting me. The teacher told me I was going to come with her.

I looked behind the teacher to the area I knew we were going to: some kind of stage-like area on the left wall of the room, where there were other kids sat out on the floor with papers, studying or doing their lesson exercise.

I was now in some kind of hallway-like space with my teacher. The hallway was like an old, narrow, seldom-visited corridor in a natural history museum.

We sat on the floor -- actually, I think my teacher was laying on her stomach. My teacher had a book, some kind of history of poetry. She may have read some of it to me. She may then have asked me either to read some to her, or to give her a reaction to what she'd read. She handed me the book.

I could see that the text was about the seventeenth century British poet Abraham Cowley. But the pages looked like they were from some kind of illustrated Bible for kids. There was a drawing, almost coloring-book-style, of biblical mountains running across the top half of one set of pages.

I told my teacher a little bit of my own thoughts about Abraham Cowley. I liked him, and I thought it was unfair that he'd fallen into obscurity.

I then read the bottom lines of the left-hand page of the book. It mentioned how somebody in the eighteenth century had "single-handedly" rescued Cowley from oblivion. It took me a long time to read this. But I finally got the idea that the person referenced was Samuel Johnson.

My teacher was now slightly around the corner from me, and up on a very small platform, elevated about 20cm above the floor. I lay on my stomach and stared at a beautiful, Gothic-style, wood wall as I gave my teacher some of my own thoughts on Cowley.

It was hard for me to speak -- my brain was really groggy. But I said, "Well, you know, now that Cowley's rescued from oblivion, everybody thinks he's just great. But I don't think he's free from faults. I love his Mistress poem cycle. But his Odes are kind of flat, in my opinion."

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was at "my office," sitting at a cubicle. The office was kind of empty of people. Down a short hallway was a reception area. One of my co-workers, D, was talking with a female co-worker, M, about some new procedure everybody had to go through at work to keep their jobs. You had to talk with some higher-up person about your qualifications, but you had to do so through stories that proved you'd done all kinds of special things and that you were really passionate about your work.

As D explained this to M, he walked into the area where I was. He was still talking with M, though she wasn't around. He wanted to use me as an example of how this new interview would take place. He asked me a question. I began to answer. D walked over to a desk where a woman was sitting. A black boy in a yellow sweater and white button-up shirt came in and sat by the woman.

I was droning on about my school and work history, wondering if this was any different from just giving my resume. But suddenly I was talking with M. We were talking about business in general, making jokes, and so forth. We were now in my room. She lay down on her back on my bed. I lay next to her on my stomach.

As we continued talking matter-of-factly, M grabbed my right hand and lay it between her legs. She then may have moved it to rest on her belly, just above her crotch. I nowbrealized she was naked. I moved my hands down to feel her more. But as soon as I did, I stopped. I couldn't do this. M really isn't my type, I thought. Plus, she's married.

I sat up. M stayed laying down. There were two white guys in my room. My room was dim, too, as if only a small light shone from a low corner of the room. One of the guys sat on the bed between me and M. He wore a blue top like the SNSD girls wear for the Oh! video and a long, white denim skirt. He flung his head back and reclined seductively, as if I were going to have sex with him.

I stood up and walked over to my table. I looked at my right arm and saw that I had some small, hard, white substance jutting out of it. It was like a piece of pummice was growing out of my arm. I flexed my muscle to push it out. Then I pulled it the rest of the way out. It wasn't very big, maybe 1cm long.

Dream #2

I had a really long hair on my face, below my lower lip. I tried to pull it out, but I think it kept slipping out of my hands.

Dream #3

A black and white photo. A woman supplicating before another woman dressed as a nun. The nun's headdress cast enough shadow around her so that it took me a while to realize that the nun had no head, only a stub of a neck.

I knew that people came and prayed to this headless woman as if she were a saint, capable of performing miracles. She seemed to be alive. But for some reason I wondered whether this woman were actually dead.

I thought it might be possible that this was all some game put on by drug dealers in Mexico. They could, I thought, have beheaded the woman and then sat her up to look alive in this square to trick gullible religious people.

Dream #4

I was on some balcony or mezzanine in a big building. It was daytime, and the building was filled with a bright, gentle, natural light. But the mezzanine may have been in disarray, with broken pieces of the building lying all about.

There may have been one dead one woman lying on the ground. Another woman was screaming in fear. A man dressed in a brown uniform like a UPS uniform attacked the woman. He picked her up and was carrying her toward a doorway. The woman fought as the man carried her through the doorway. She may even have clung to the doorjamb.

I knew that if the man got the woman into the room alone, he'd kill her. Even worse, he'd terrorize her while he killed her. I was afraid, and I felt pretty weak, but I knew I had to do whatever I could to stop the man.

I ran up to the man, still wrestling the woman past the doorjamb. I managed, after a kind of pathetic struggle, to separate the woman from the man. For some reason the man ran away through a sliding glass door at the other end of the room.

The room was completely empty. I lay the woman down on the floor. She had been stricken in some way by the man and was near death. I knew I was near death, too. I figured I'd just lay beside the woman to die, too.

But I knew that if the man came backb when the woman and I were too weak to fight, he'd terrorize us until we died, which would be a horrible way to die. So before I lay down I closed and locked the front door. I then pulled the curtains over the sliding glass door and locked the sliding glass door.

I was heading over to lay down beside the woman to die. I was having a conversation in my head with some woman about the meaning of life and death. I started floating up into the air. I then began descending into a weird structure like a futuristic, silvery car with dark black windows. The structure also looked like the huge server in the anime Summer Wars.

I was now in some room that looked like a bar or restaurant that had gone out of business mixed with a living room. A decent amount of natural light came in through the windows. The place was full of boxes. I was here with a female friend. A tallish, gentle-looking, bald white man in a black shirt and pants stood behind the bar.

I sat at the bar, between a couple messy stacks of boxes. The man handed me two plates or rice. The rice had green vegetables in it and was covered in some yellowy-brown sauce, possibly curry.