Recent DJ Posts

A woman has another woman tied to a tree, and is spreading caviar on her face to attract animals to eat her. She's interrupted by some panic among the people she's working with. People are transforming into creatures - from what they're shouting, I have the impression that it's mostly insects, but when I switch to first person, the only transformation I actually see is a bird emerging from a woman's shoulder and flying away. Mostly I just see panicked people running away.

I'm leaving too, with several others, at a calmer pace. I look down at my bare feet, and notice that the girl whose body I'm possessing has decorated her toenails in Satanic symbols - not just painting them, but actually growing them into horn-like shapes. I comment on this to one of the people I'm walking with, although I'm careful to phrase it as if I'm the real owner of this body, not something possessing her.

Still in that body, I'm at a club with a woman named Pepper. I'm wearing sunglasses - it's night, but I need them to protect myself from the electric lights. I'll take them off when we're outside. We're leaving, waiting by a coat check or something similar, when we're approached by two men, one of them hitting on Pepper, the other hanging back. At first I'm irritated, but then I remember that I'm using a female body at the moment, and I realize the other guy is playing wingman. I'm amused. Since Pepper seems interested enough, we all leave together.

We briefly stop by my IRL house, and when I look in a mirror, I see my IRL self, although my reflection isn't mirroring my actions. Pepper calls for me to hurry up, calling the name of the girl whose body I'm possessing for the first time - Julie. Outside, it's dawn, the clouds are starting to change colors, so I put my sunglasses back on. There's a large car parked outside - wingman's in the driver's seat, Pepper and the other guy are in the back. I get into the passenger seat.

We drive past several rundown-looking houses, and the guy in the back seat asks me if they're haunted, this being my neighborhood. I say sure, a house that looks like that has to have a few ghosts around. I'm not being serious, just humoring him. He goes on and on about the dead, and he's beginning to irritate me - he's attempting to show off his knowledge, but it's not particularly impressive. He says that he can speak to the dead more easily than others because he still has all his canine teeth - I have an image of one tooth behind another, like adult teeth behind baby teeth, though he's an adult. He says they make a point of telling you that they're dead. And he asks me something about dead and dreams - I didn't catch most of the question, too much background noise, but I assumed he was asking me if I'd ever been visited by the dead in my dreams. I say, sure - I may not know much about talking to dead people, but dreams I can do.

Wingman calls my attention away, asking for directions - left or right here? It's not even really a fork in the road, the road we're on just curves right and another road splits away, but I guess it might look confusing if you're not used to it; I tell him to bear right. The guy in the backseat offers me and Pepper beers from a cooler, and asks if we find him creepy, with all that talk about dead people. I say no, the talk about dead people's fine, it's the way you talk about getting me and Pepper to drink that's creepy. Pepper agrees, but she's laughing about it. I was only half joking. Even the wingman agrees - the guy's phrasing is odd, as if he's trying to get us incapacitated. We hit a bump in the road and he spills some of his own beer on the upholstery; I tell him he better clean that up, although I'm not at all sure who owns this car. I'm certain it's not him.

September 8, Sunday:

Dreams regarding Satanism which I was thinking of as I'd watched a documentary about David Berkowitz (The "Son of Sam") who said he was in a satanic cult.

September 9, Monday:

> Mother said she and father watched My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

> I saw things regarding the next Fallout video game and I heard the name of the game. For some reason an ice cream shop came to mind.

> I saw a video game store and I saw the sign above the door, And it was where a Bon-Ton store was.

I can edit more in to this post that I had.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in an office. The office was like a hallway of big, heavy desks, rather than a big floor full of cubicles. There was some kind of dull, greenish, fluorescent light. But daylight flowed in through windows, giving the atmosphere more of a gold-white feel.

I stood before some desk. I had probably been given some task by "my boss," who then walked away. There was a stack of papers on the desk. I picked it up and turned away from the desk, as if I were going to walk to my own workspace.

But the hallway was now blocked all the way across by the desk of one of my old senior co-workers, RW. RW sat at his desk. In the usual mild manner he took with me, he asked me if I was happy with my new position. Apparently I was doing research on semiconductors.

I bashfully giggled and told RW it was okay. RW said, "Well, I certainly don't think I could do something like what you're doing. It would be too much for me, just picking up on semis like that. That's really hard."

I just giggled and smiled. I couldn't do anything else. RW, who does research on diagnostic equipment and PBMs, had a reputation for being extremely witty, incisive, and self-assured. He could cut anybody down. But he'd always been gentle with me. Even now, I didn't want to spoil my unique relationship with RW by getting over-confident.

But RW said, "Now, come on! You have to admit that what you're doing is pretty good!"

I didn't know what to say. I think I might have started to talk about how I thought RW's research was really cool. But before I could say that, I think RW started talking about how his reseach wasn't so difficult.

Dream #2

I was in an auditorium full of high schoolers or college kids. There was a group of high-level officials on the stage. The stage was really high up, compared to the seats. I was in the third or fourth row. But I often saw as if I were a video camera, closed right up on the group.

The group all stood in a kind of random fashion. There weren't any podiums. I'm pretty sure there weren't even any mics. There was no decoration on the stage, either. It was just a bare stage.

The people on stage were from all over the world. There was some kind of major announcement being made. It had to do with some decision of President Obama's.

But the main person, who was to make the bulk of the announcement, was alternately Obama and some tall, bald, white, slightly overweight man. But even when the man was Obama, he spoke of Obama in the third person.

The man first asked a woman to leave the room. The woman's name was something like Piti or Peetee. She looked (to my reflection now) Iranian. She had short hair in a kind of Jackie-O cut. She had pale, olive-colored skin, and a healthy, round figure. Her dress was pale blue-grey. But the fabric was really strange, like a mix between terry cloth and cashmere.

Piti left through a door to a stairwell, on the right (my right) of the stage. After she left, the man said that Piti had already determined that if Obama's decision was unfavorable to her, she would take some kind of action against him. Apparently Obama had already done something to Piti, basically barring her from making any appearances in the United States.

But Obama's decision was going to go against Piti's desires. The man explained to all of us that Piti basically had control over all of Southeast Asia. She could bar (I think the man called it "sanction" in the dream) Obama from Southeast Asia, just as he'd barred her from the United States.

It was pretty obvious (I don't know why) that it was a lot worse for Obama being "sanctioned" from Southeast Asia than it was for Piti to be barred from the United States. But it seemed pretty obvious, as well, that Obama wouldn't tolerate this sanction. So we were all basically told to prepare for a conflict.

The man had now, apparently, handed out paper presentations to all of us. The presentation was, I think, an argument for why we should aim for some kind of compromise, rather than heading into a conflict. But the presentations were all in Chinese.

A boy asked the man (who may now have been alone on the stage) if he could give an English translation of the presentation. I turned around so I could see the boy. The auditorium was huge! And it was packed -- full of high school or college students!

The boy sat at a folding chair along the right wall. He was an Asian boy with a squarish, shortish haircut, squarish glasses, and a dark blue winter jacket.

The man may have voiced a little disappointment that the boy needed translation. But there was a girl, also Asian, sitting with a female friend. This girl actually yelled back to the boy, "Why do you need a translation? Didn't you study your own language, like everybody else does?"

The boy said something like, "Well, yeah, I studied. But I just thought if we got a little translation here and there, it could help us get through the rest of the text faster on our own."

The girl sighed at the boy, like she couldn't believe what a lazy excuse-maker he was. I turned back forward and looked at my text as the girl said, "It basically says that China believes, if the whole world cooperated, we could reach the ends of the universe, with the energy we have right now."

I looked at the presentation in the hands of the girl to my left. There was a screenshot printed on the page. The shot was of some YouTube video, showing some view of the universe. The sky was mostly black, with just a few faint dots of stars.

For some reason I was now running to the bathroom. I was somehow involved with some meeting with President Obama. But it also had to do with some branch of Satanism. The branch was named something like Gen Schele. But "Gen" may have been "Glen." And "Schele" may have been "Shell" or "Schnell."

Obama had possibly already explained something to me about the government, this cult, and some decision being made in international affairs. I really disapproved of it. I thought it would end with a lot of people dying. But I thought it would be weak to voice my disapproval. And I acted like it was perfectly natural.

But now I needed to go to the bathroom so bad! I was running toward a restroom. I was wearing khaki shorts for some reason (great way to meet the President, right?). And now I couldn't hold my pee anymore. The inner thighs of my shorts were all soaked.

I didn't think it was so bad. If I got to the bathroom and to a urinal, I could pee the rest of the way in there. Then my shorts would likely dry quickly.

I was in a bathroom now, peeing in a urinal. But my pee was coming out so much, so forcibly, that I was still spraying all over my shorts, making them even more and more soaked. Plus, I just wasn't stopping! I had peed so much that the urinal was completely full. A huge puddle was already forming on the floor.

At some point Obama saw me. He asked me, with a bit of disappointment and disdain, what was bothering me so much. I didn't want to tell him what was bothering me. I didn't want him to think I was weak. But I'm pretty sure he knew what was bothering me.

I just wanted, really badly, to finish peeing, so I could go into one of the stalls, crouch into a fetal position, and just lie there until my shorts finally dried.

(When I woke up, I seriously expected to find that I'd wet the bed, my dream was so vivid. But, thankfully, I did not. Also -- just as a side note, the "Gen Schele" might be a mix-up of the name of the artist Egon Schiele, and also of the name Rothschild. I've been reading about the Rothschilds lately.)

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I stood before a group of people including Alice Liddell and Xie Kitchin. Alice and Xie stood on either side of something like a tree, although the tree was probably indoors. Something like an old scroll-sign may have been posted to the tree, and there may have been a staircase leading up to the tree. A few other people were around Alice and Xie, possibly including Lewis Carroll.

Either I or Lewis Carroll had brought gifts for Alice and Xie. The gifts were in thin, plastic bags, like the kind you might get at a bookstore. Caroll had given the gift to Xie with some amount of ceremony, but had neglected the same kind of presentation with Alice.

Caroll may have given Alice her present first, then given Xie her present. But he now rushed back over to Alice. He may have thought it was too late for making a presentation. So he may not have done much of anything at all. Both girls' gift-bags were lying at their feet.

Now Alice was walking around by herself in a space that was like a small path in a forest, except inside something like a mall. In fact, the "forest path" area was occasionally so narrow that it was like Alice was simply walking on the edge of some planter, right in the middle of a shopping mall's corridor.

As all this went on, Lewis Carroll went on to tell a story about how Alice had gotten a bug stuck in her nose. But somehow the bug was good, and Alice knew this. The bug may have been light green and maybe 10-15cm long. Alice knew that if she blew the bug out of her nose that something good would happen, so that Alice would have a good rest of the day.

But somehow, the story went, Alice thought that the second part of the day was always grumpy. So Alice was curious how the second part of the day could actually be happy.

So, Carroll narrated, Carroll told Alice that the first part of the day knew that the second part of the day was always grumpy. So the first part of the day would hide and avoid the second part of the day. But then the first part of the day would sneak up and surprise the first part of the day, somehow influencing the second part of the day to be good.

Dream #2

I was probably in something like a train (or a pickup truck?) with my sister and another woman, who was probably my sister's friend. It was a sunny day, and the sky was clear and deep blue. We rode along something that looked like a big lake. But it may actually have been an area hit by a really bad flood. The water actually looked peaceful, and it reflected the blue of the sky.

I told my sister that perhaps the flood hadn't been so bad after all. In fact, I didn't think the "power plant" had been damaged, like my sister had apparently thought. My sister may now have felt that I had been right.

But, even as we were talking, we came up to the power plant. It was at the other end of this "flood lake" from us, although now we were directly across from it. At first, it may have looked okay. But then, we saw, it was completely smashed and still half under the floodwaters. It looked like it had actually been only a substation. Now it was a bunch of smashed steel frames, wires, coils, and fencing. I told my sister it looked like she had been right after all.

Dream #3

I was in a small room, which may have been part of a library or museum. The room actually felt like a room in an old castle. The walls were like stucco. The walls each had wide, arched entryways on them. The room was kind of dim, with natural light seeming to come in from some indiscernable place.

There was a crowd of teenagers packed in the room, watching L'Arc en Ciel perform on a stage. I was alternately in the crowd and on the stage, singing, as if, from time to time, I became Hyde.

Then I was in the crowd, outside the room, in a kind of narrow hallway, which was just as packed with people. Somebody made an announcement that a line was now forming for the special L'Arc en Ciel concert, which would be held later on. The line was first come first serve, and only a few people would get into the concert.

I saw the line forming in the crowd in which I stood, like a current in the ocean. I thought that I should try to get in the line. After all, I thought of myself as a pretty big L'Arc en Ciel fan. But I was already sick of the crowd, and I didn't want to have to deal with the jerks in line on top of that. So I figured I'd forget it.

I was now walking through a big area, like a covered porch in an old monastery, although I may still have been inside. The crowd was still pretty thick here, although I finally had some personal space.

I was then standing before a woman who sat at a bench. The woman was maybe in her mid to late fifties. She had obviously been thin all her life, though she now seemed to be gaining weight, and she looked a little dumpy. She had pale, brown hair and fair skin. Her face was kind of square, lined with wrinkles. She had pale eyes. But the whites of her eyes looked misted over with purple, almost as if bruised.

The woman was either fully or mostly blind. She carried a walking cane. She may have been trying to explain to me how I needed to keep my emotional grounding regarding some kind of problem in my life.

I was really concerned by the purple coloring on the woman's eyes. I asked the woman how she'd become blind. The woman may have started telling me her story.

Dream #4

I was in the driveway of "my boss' house." It was a nice, sunny day. There were a lot of cars in the driveway, and there may have been a lot of people and activity on the driveway and in the garage, which was open.

Someone explained that my boss had been arrested for murder. The police were in the house, getting my boss. My boss' wife and daughter now came out of the house, hugging each other and crying. The daughter was blonde, wore a pink dress, and was maybe six or seven years old. She barely came up to her mother's waist. Apparently the little girl had been a victim of my boss' craziness.

Now the police were bringing out my boss. Someone mentioned that my boss thought I was stalking him. Part of the paranoia that had led him to murder was the thought that I was stalking him and somehow mind-controlling him, so that he'd become a killer. So I thought that, as my boss was brought out, I'd hide a little, so he wouldn't think I was there, "still" stalking him.

But the police brought my boss out too soon for me to hide. My boss was very pale, like my boss is IWL. But he looked a lot more manly. His face was kind of rugged and square, instead of being round and flabby. He also had stubble on his face. His hair was short, kind of wiry, maybe pale brown or red. My boss wore a pale, denim shirt. He looked really worn out by whatever he'd been through.

As the police were putting my boss in the car, my boss got a view of me. But I couldn't tell what he thought of seeing me. I and someone else got in another car and pulled away. I thought if my boss saw me leaving, he wouldn't think I'd been stalking him.

I was now somewhere, possibly in front of my boss' house again. I heard that my boss had actually murdered his daughter. The murder had actually been part of some ritual, maybe satanic.

My mom and I were now pulling up to my boss' house in a car. It was dark outside. It was either very late night or very early morning. We were here to pick up my sister. My sister had been in the house when my boss had committed the murders (my boss had possibly also murdered his wife). My sister was now "acting" as if she was house-sitting while my boss was in prison. This was so my boss wouldn't think my sister either knew about or felt uncomfortable about the murders that had been committed while she'd been in the house.

The home was still a separate home. But it was set up in a strange way. To get to the front door, I had to walk up a tall staircase, up to a balcony, like in an apartment complex or a hotel with outdoor balconies connecting the residences.

I knocked on the door, which was a grid of wood-framed, glass panes, showing in to the entrance corridor. The floors of the hallway were tile. There was something that seemed to be orange about the walls, though the walls seemed to be some kind of beige marble. The hallway ended in a wall and went off to the left and the right, i.e., in a "T" shape.

My sister first came from the right side. She saw me standing outside. She seemed to rush off, to get all her stuff together to meet me. She now came from the left side. She wore a giant, very lifelike, replica of a white horse's head on her body, so that the only part of her showing from under the horse's head was her legs, below the knees.

Somehow my sister explained to me (she was still walking to the door, and I was still outside) that she wore the horse's head as part of the satanic ritual. But she also wore it so my boss wouldn't think my sister had been able to see the murders my boss had committed. But I also knew that my sister wore the horse head over her body as a defense against the trauma she'd experienced from the murders.

Somehow, it was like my sister was my boss' daughter, and that my sister had been the main victim of some torturous satanic ritual which then culminated in the murder of someone, though probably not my sister.

Someone may have explained to me how my boss had finally been arrested. But as they told me this story, it was like I was watching the arrest. It was like my view was only 33cm or so away from my boss. Sometimes I may actually have seen from my boss' point of view.

My boss apparently lived in a smallish, kind of squalid, apartment. It was daytime. The front door of the apartment was open. The police were standing just inside, in the living room. They were going through the procedures of arresting my boss. But my boss suddenly made a break for it.

My boss may have been a young, tallish, slim, but muscular man wearing a sweater and jeans, with black hair and a light beard. My boss ran down a staircase. He ran past the apartments, into a desert field of dry grass and pale gravel. He then ran down into a shallow box canyon. He began spray painting a lot of words onto the walls of the box canyon in red spray paint.

I was curious about what my boss had written. It seemed like it was some kind of message, like for a doomsday cult. But I felt like there might be an element of philosophical truth, or at least a kind of dark coolness, to it. But I was also interested in how the police had caught up to my boss and captured him.

But the vision had ended here. Now I was in a weird building, like a convention center or shopping mall full of stuff that made it feel like a bunch of hotel lobbies or living rooms. I had been watching some TV. I'd probably been watching the scene of which I'd thought I'd been a part.

Someone standing near me may have explained to me that the police had caught my boss. But I knew they'd caught him. What I was interested in was how they'd caught him, and what he'd written on the walls of the box canyon.

I knew that my mother had gotten the newspaper. She'd actually just gone out to get the paper. She'd likely be coming back home with the paper by now. So I'd just go up to my mom's apartment (or room?) to get an account from my mom on what details had been in the paper.

I walked up to the mezzanine balcony of the strange building. I went down a side hallway and into a room like a hotel room, which was my mom's apartment. My mom had just arrived, and she was reclining on her bed with a selection of magazines and newspapers laid before her.

My mom may have been a kind of tall, kind of beautiful, glamorous woman, maybe just now beginning to gain weight. She may have worn a dark, silk slip and some kind of silk, floral-printed robe. She may have been wearing black mascara and a "Mrs. Robinson" hairstyle.

I sat on the bed with my mom and thumbed through some of the magazines and papers. I saw that some of the articles about my boss had pictures of Anders Breivik. (I didn't know Breivik's name in the dream.)

I asked my mom about it. She said, "When he tried to escape from the police, he tried to be like that Norway guy." (She might actually have said "Sweden guy.") "So he used a pickup truck as a getaway vehicle."