All DJ Entries

Good morning everybody.

Dream #1

I sat in the dark, facing a bunch of boxes. I would tap the sides or tops of the boxes or gently squeeze the boxes, and they would produce chime-like notes. I may eventually have started to play a song on these boxes.

(I woke up to my headphones playing a tune from a music-box from the end of a song.)

Dream #2

I was in "my mom's house." It was dark. My mom and my nephews were in the living room with me. I sat on the floor, in front of the front door, facing the right arm of the couch.

My sister came up from the basement. She was really angry. She yelled back down the stairs some sarcastic comment that made it clear that some guy and his mom were downstairs, possibly with my brother-in-law. The guy was either running from the police or was a generally shady character that my sister didn't want around the kids.

We were all afraid to have to deal with these people and get them out of the house. My sister eventually went outside to her car. My brother-in-law may have been there as well. My sister was getting ready to leave the house. She also may have been calling the police. I wondered if there was some car I could take to get me back to my hotel for the night.

Dream #3

I sat at a cafe with my old friend H. The cafe was open, a little dim, with greyish daylight coming in through the windows. The floors were white tile, and the tables were a thin kind of wood. There may have been potted palm trees somewhere. The place was kind of empty.

I ate some kind of carrot bread while trying to explain something to H about how we'd been here or near here in the past. I said something like we'd been at the back end of this cafe, more pointed toward the Sunrise Market (?).

I could now see outside. The cafe was a part of a two-floor complex. Just a ways away, across a wide stretch of sidewalk, was a much larger shopping complex, apparently the market I had been mentioning. It was brown- and tan-painted concrete. It looked like a grocery store with another floor or shops on top of it. The sky above was a pale grey.

I was now in a dim grocery store, walking past a bunch of widely, randomly spaced displays (like some kind of farmer-style produce section) and toward a refrigerator full of drinks. H sat at a small table near the fridge.

I wanted to grab a drink, pay for it, and tip the person who gave me the drink. I knew I could tip the person by leaving the tip (a few quarters) in the slot from which Ib had grabbed the drink. But there was some creepy grocery store worker kid who looked like he was just waiting for me to leave the tip so he could steal it.

I asked H what I should do. She told me just to put the money in the slot, and that it would wash away to the person. I looked at the slot. There were little holes through which jets of water flowed. I saw that the coins would be pushed through the holes and to the person, who apparently worked behind the refrigerator.

I was now in a nice room, like a nice hotel. There were a lot of Mexican boys and girls. They all had suitcases. They tumbled about and had fun. Then they lined up by the door. I lined up behind a few of them. I understood that we were all heading toward some bus or flight.

Dream #4

I was sitting at a school-cafeteria-style table with an older woman who kind of reminded me of my grandma, except that she was blonde and a tiny bit overweight.

I was discussing a number of things with her. At one point I had an image in my head of a lot of stainless steel boxes, like heavy safes. Some of the boxes were for data memory. Other boxes were like small servers. Other boxes were just boxes for holding the other things in. I saw some kind of advertisement lettering somewhere on the image that said something like 275 MB or 275 MW.

The woman now explained to me that for my report (?) I should contact a man she knew in Vegas. He'd become an expert in probabilities. As the woman told me this I could see a hand holding clear green dice with white dots. The woman told me that the man was a slightly shady character, but that that had to be expected after the tough times he'd had to live through. And, besides, sometimes you had to get to know the shady characters if you wanted to get good, new information.

The woman then also told me to contact another person she knew, a scientist with a lot of knowledge about (something I forgot!). I had an image in my head of a man in a white robe, with a long, white beard and long, white hair.

Some other people had now also come and were getting in the way of the woman. I was saying goodbye to her. I was talking to her from over a tall, wooden railing. We may have shaken hands as she explained something else to me about my report.

Good morning, everybody. I slept 11 hours last night. I think I'm finally over my freaking cold. And ready for a new one to get me, I guess. Ugh...

Dream #1

I was in "my bedroom," which was a lot like my waking-life bedroom, except that it had, I think, green walls and really dusty floors. The light in the room was dim, as if some faint light were coming from some other room.

I saw a very skinny roach, about 5cm long, crawl across my floor. It looked all shrivelled up and dry, blackish-grey, not like a "healthy" (eww...) roach at all.

I began to aim for the roach, to kill it. But it darted away. I looked for it and found it again, in an extremely dusty spot between some boxes and a wall. But it got away again.

I had some toilet paper in my hand now. Apparently I was going to smash the roach with toilet paper. I found the roach again. This time it was climbing up a wall.

But I wasn't exactly sure that I was seeing it. I kept squinting and slowly walking closer and closer, to make sure that what I was seeing was actually the roach.

Dream #2

I was sitting in a desk near the front of a classroom. The classroom was lit with a dim, grey light. I sat near the right wall, facing the left wall. Most of the rest of the class was facing the front wall. The room was packed with students.

Everybody was quiet and listening to the teacher. The teacher was a tall, thin, white man, slightly balding, with grey-white hair, and squarish eyeglasses.

The teacher was giving some sort of lecture which may have been on film or some kind of performing art. But I wasn't paying attention. I had a big, fat book in front of me. I was huddled over it, elbows on my desktop, "taking notes" (I.e. scribbling) in the margins.

The teacher lifted the book off my desk and presented it to the rest of the class. I saw that the title of the book was "An Essay on Art and Love," and that it was by Karl Marx. The cover of the book was like a deep blue sky full of stars, with some kind of drawing in a circle in the center of the cover.

The teacher said, "Now, you see, (he said my name) is actually reading a book! Which shows he's paying attention in class! Everybody else needs to pay attention, too."

(I obviously, however, had not been paying attention in class. I don't even remember what the teacher was talking about.)

The teacher had now stopped his lecture and was apparently walking around, checking on how the students were doing. I went back to doing my own thing, a little embarrassed and upset that undue "good attention" to me had been paraded before the class.

The teacher now addressed a young, white man with fair skin and long, brown hair. The boy wore a black, wool cap and a baggy, black t-shirt with some kind of punky, black-and-white photo-print on it. The kid was slouched in his desk as the teacher addressed him.

The teacher said, "(The kid's name, which was the same as my name), I really hope you can learn, sooner or later, to stop making smart aleck comments in class whenever I say something you disagree with. It makes the whole class laugh at me and take your side."

I thought that was an odd argument for the teacher to make against the young man. I actually thought the kid was pretty funny, even though he was kind of distracting.

(Note: I seriously don't think Marx wrote anything about Art and Love. That would seriously cramp Marx' style.

I think this book is a mish-mash of my own thoughts. I've lately been reading the porn-philosophy book Juilette by the Marquis de Sade. A lot of people say the book is just porn and justification for doing all kinds of wacky things.

Reading the book, I kind of disagree, and I've lately thought to myself that the book could be read side-by-side with Karl Marx' Capital and Leo Tolstoy's The Kingdom of God Is within You. They all three address something about the bipolarity of society.

So my dream life decided, apparently, to take that mish-mash and run with it. And now Marx is a romantic artist somehow... Okay...)

Good morning, everybody. These dreams are all influenced by an anime/manga event I attended on Sunday.

Dream #1

I was at some kind of chicken fast-food restaurant, possibly in a mall. I'm not sure if I was an employee or a customer. I think the store colors may have been blue and white.

At some point I was in the back area of the restaurant. There were a lot of workers rushing around in a panic regarding the chickens.

Apparently live chickens were kept in another room. The chickens were then killed and cooked. But someone said that the arrangements for the chickens didn't make sense, that something was wrong about the whole thing. The thing wrong may have had to do with the chickens never seeming to go to the bathroom, or with their waste never having to be removed from the room where they were kept.

I went to the room where the chickens were kept by exiting a back door in the restaurant's food prep area and then crossing a small hallway that was like the back area for a mall and an alley. I'm not sure if I ever went into the room with the chickens.

I think I knew, however that the fact that the chickens were producing no waste meant one of two things. The first possibility was that the chickens were being manipulated in such a way that they didn't create waste, i.e. they were just being made into something like food machines, big globs of meat.

The second possibility was that chickens weren't being used at all. I imagined that babies were actually being kidnapped at random and being used in place of the chickens. The "chicken room" was just a front, a room with nothing in it at all.

Dream #2

A man got mad at me because I was doing something (I have no idea what) that hindered his ability to help preserve a whole bunch of new species of fish that he had found. I decided to stop doing whatever it was I had been doing. It may have had something to do with using up some kind of funds.

I was now out over a huge body of water. It was a bright, clear day. I was skimming over the water as if I were on water skis. Just to my right was some kind of track or some kind of dividing line. It was barely visible above the surface of the water.

The fish that the man had discovered and preserved now began jumping up out of the water as I passed them. They all had the same kind of look. They were almost cartoony. They had the look of a children's book drawing of a whale: the bulbous head, flat belly, and fan tail. Some of them looked plasticky; others looked scaly. Many of them had jewel-like dots on them. Some also had silvery bands floating around them or above them.

I seemed to be happy that I had done whatever I had done to allow these newly discovered fish to be preserved.

Dream #3

I climbed up through some dark area and found myself in the top area of some place like a temple or a church. The place reminds me of a belltower, exept much wider. It was daytime, with a clear, blue sky.

A young man (who I spoke with at an anime event in waking life) was playing with a computer. The man was a little overweight, with tan skin, short hair, and black-rimmed glasses. He wore a black t-shirt.

The young man was showing me some anime he was really excited about on his computer. He eventually told me that it was related to some other anime. He had to go somewhere, but he pointed out some magazines that were behind me. These magazines were also related to this other anime.

I turned around and was suddenly in "the young man's room," on a swivel chair. The room was dim. I was looking down at a small desk with a couple of magazines on it. The magazines seemed to be about making 3-D art on the computer.

The magazine covers showed a bunch of half-finished 3-D characters, mostly cute girls in frilly dresses. The faces, in particular, were often unfinished, so that the eyes just looked like peach, plastic globs.

One dress struck me as very realistic. It was light blue and satiny, with white frills as trim. It suddenly struck me that these anime art magazines were very similar to fetish porn magazines. But I decided I'd keep that opinion to myself, since I didn't want to offend the young man.

Dream #4

I was apparently Shinji Ikari from Neon Genesis Evangelion. I was living out "a scene from Neon Genesis" while also remembering/watching it.

The story was (in my "memory") that Shinji had been dissolved in some battle. He had been evaporated by a huge mass of white steam. But somehow scientists had managed to reconstruct his body. So he was now, in a sense, artificial.

Now I, as Shinji (not inside the giant robot Eva, just as Shinji, all on my own), was in the huge mass of white steam. I was waiting to be dissolved. But I wasn't dissolving. This was kind of disappointing to me, and I wondered if I had remembered the story correctly.

I was now climbing up a wall, out of the steam. I still kept thinking and hoping that I would be dissolved. I assumed that the steam would surprise me by jumping up, pulling me down, and dissolving me. But it never did. I just kept climbing up the wall.

The wall was like a wall leading up from some kind of industrial drainage area or some dam. The wall was green, as if it had a forest mural painted on it.

I'm not sure how I climbed up the wall. There seemed to be some metal, rebar-like, squarish portrusions to my left. I seemed to be using them somehow to climb. But they seemed to be too small to be totally practical.

It was getting harder and harder to scale the wall. I didn't know if I would make it. But I finally got to the top.

At the top was a grassy area, like a park. There was a huge "fire" (actually a huge pile of burning ash) on the grass. I knew that this fire was being used to melt down a large, golden statue of Buddha.

I watched the fire, however, and saw that the golden Buddha was not melting into the ashes. In fact, no Buddha was there. Instead, the Buddha's hand emerged from the ashes. I knew that the fire was actually creating the Buddha from gold that had already been melted. I may have wondered whether enough gold had been placed into the fire to create a Buddha sized in proportion with the hand, which itself was probably as tall as I.

I now found myself in a museum, watching the creation of the Buddha on a TV screen. The gold rising up from the fire took all kinds of shapes, but nothing resembling the Buddha. I somehow got the impression that very few people actually watched this video, because they were too afraid to actually watch something rise from the flames instead of being melted by them.

I backed away from the screen and looked around at the room I was in. My mom was somewhere nearby. The room was open, light, with white walls and adobe-red floors. It felt very free, though the room was small.

I was now in another room, looking at the video of the creation of the Buddha. But the screen was now behind a glass case set into the wall. The screen also seemed to be like a frozen image, a still photograph on pasteboard, even though it also still seemed to be a moving image on a TV screen.

The image of "the Buddha" was actually a huge, golden structure that looked something like a menorah made out of bricks. It looked almost Assyrian. At the top, where flames would normally be depicted, there were, in some spots, flames, but in other spots, just cubes of golden bricks.

An older Jewish couple walked into the room. The man was humming a Jewish folk tune. He bent down and pointed at some title card in a display near the melting Buddha display. (The display the man was in front of may now suddenly have been the melting Buddha display.)

The man may have said something to his wife about the similarities between Judaism and Buddhism.

Good morning, everybody. I slept about 12 hours last night, in hopes of getting over my cold. I recall three dreams from last night. They're all pretty fragmented, and I'm not even exactly sure what order they came in.

Dream #1

I stood out on some concrete balcony or ledge (like at the head of a concrete wheelchair ramp) a couple meters higher than the road. It was daytime, and I was in a big town, in some area that looked like SoHo in NYC. The streets were cobblestone. The place was empty.

I was looking across the street to a place that looked like a bank next door to a fast food restaurant. I was playing around on my phone. I was trying to look into my bank account to see how much money I had. I may have been out on some trip to a different city or country, and I may have been trying to figure out exactly how much more money I could spend on this trip.

But I couldn't remember the name of my bank. I went over the names of banks (probably not real names) in my head without locating the name of my bank.

At some point I may have figured out the name of the bank, only to discover, contrary to my previous insistence, that it was precisely the bank across the street from me.

I now noticed that there were a lot of cosplayers going into the fast food restaurant next door to the bank. I was curious about these cosplayers.

I was now in the fast food restaurant. The place was packed with cosplayers. Some of them may actually have been dressed up as clowns, like Ronald McDonald, rather than being in cosplay.

Dream #2

I had come down to Mexico with my mom. I was now walking around town by myself. It was daytime, a warm day. I walked down a quiet, narrow street.

I probably went into one store, the floor for which was at the bottom of a few short steps. I may have walked around in the store for a few minutes.

I was now back in the house where my mom was. It was like a house that belonged to "one of our family members" in Mexico. I was in a completely empty bedroom. It may have been later in the night or early the next morning.

My mom came into the bedroom and sat down across from me on the floor. She insinuated that some people had mistaken me for a narc while I'd been walking around the city. Now I was kind of in trouble with these people.

My mom told me, "They say here that a narc is like a dog on a leash, except they say he has a coat-hanger attached, too."

This saying gave me a picture in my head like a chalkboard drawing of a sillhouette-man walking a sillhouette-dog on a leash. The dog also had a coat-hanger sticking up from its back.

I understood the "coat-hanger" to be a symbol for the nice clothes that narcs wore (???).

My mom and I were now downstairs in the living room, which was also empty. My mom told me we had to be very careful now, walking around town, as all these drug dealers would now be looking out for us.

I wondered why on earth people would think I was a narc. I knew that if I even slightly resembed a narc, I wouldn't be coming down to Mexico at this point in time.

But now I remembered that "the cousin of mine," whom my mom and I were down here to visit, actually was a narc. So even if the drug dealers figured out I wasn't a narc, I'd still be hunted down and under suspicion for visiting a known narc.

I now wondered why in the hell my mom had chosen to come down here at this point, when all this dangerous stuff was going on.

Dream #3

I stood behind a tall, thin, young man. The man had a pale complexion and red-brown hair in a squarish, tall haircut. He wore a grey jacket. We may have been in some kind of small, crowded room, having just finished some kind of meeting for young adults.

The young man spoke, and for some reason I said aloud that it was obvious the man was Scottish, given his accent and his manner of expression.

The man turned around. Rather than being annoyed with me, he seemed to assume my observation meant that I had something in common with him.. He asked me what I was.

I said, "All three," which the man took to mean Irish, English, and Scottish (???).

The man said, "Oh, right, right. I wonder why they don't say all four and include the Welsh?"

I responded (or tried to respond?) with the thought that perhaps they were separated by language (???), so that everybody thought of the Welsh as different from "the other three."

(Note, December 13th: I forgot to mention that in waking life I've been reading The Judge, by Rebecca West. Rebecca West is a writer who was active from the 1920s through the 1980s. She's really cool. One thing that really struck me about her is that she is Irish and English on her father's side and Scottish on her mother's side. I took this "Irish-English-Scottish" aspect of West and identified myself with it -- for some reason -- in the third dream.)

Good morning everybody. This dream definitely ended around 1 AM. I had gone to bed at about 9:30 PM.

Although the end of this dream is very interesting (by my standards -- my dreams are tame compared to the others on this site!), and although it seems pretty spontaneous, I feel it was actually influenced by waking life -- namely by the part in Emiko's dream from yesterday where the boy tells her his name is Thomas.

Dream #1

I was in an apartment. Some stuff here happened that I no longer remember.

A young, pretty, and somehow motherly woman then told me something about how the doors of the apartment were open. This meant something like I would now be able to get back into the apartment, whereas before, I think, once I'd gone out I couldn't come back. The woman asked me to go pick up some kind of food.

I left the apartment. It was night. The apartment was a two-story building with outdoor balconies connecting the second story apartments. The area around the apartment felt like it was under construction or like it had been neglected or destoyed.

I think I was now planning to ask my cousin for the food the young woman had requested. I crossed the street to where my cousin lived. The building was a "college dorm," but it actually looked like a military living space for in the desert. It was long, half-cylindrical, and painted green.

I was now inside. The space was like a small supply warehouse. The floors were concrete. The space was lit by lamps hanging from the ceiling. There were a lot of young men around. They were largely congregating toward the back of this structure, where there was a big TV.

This was the first day of something like college or an extended trip that these guys were taking during college. The guys had all just settled into their dorms.

Along the left and right walls were doorways leading to a bedroom. Each boy had a bedroom. Beside each doorway was a small kitchenette and a small washer-dryer combo. I had a hard time telling whether each boy had his own kitchenette, washer, and dryer, or whether two rooms each shared one set. I either couldn't tell or didn't wonder where the bathrooms were.

I knew that I also had a room here. But I figured I'd probably continue living in the apartment. The boys all seemed cool. But I had a feeling that if I lived around them too long, I'd attract their bad attention and make a bad situation for myself.

I wondered if I had food of my own in the kitchenette that belonged to me. But I didn't concern myself with checking. I knew I'd come here to find my cousin.

I found my cousin at the back of the structure, near the TV. He may have looked like a kid. We spoke for a little while. We were then met by a boy my cousin introduced me to as C, a boy from my cousin's neighborhood. C, who had been short, thin, and pale as a kid, was now tall, tan, and muscular. I was surprised to find myself attracted to him.

I heard some noise in waking life that began to wake me from my dream.

But I still lay in a dream state. I had a vision of three figures. They looked like "little girl in dress" figures cut out of felt and made to interlock. One figure was black; one, grey; and one, white.

I very sensibly heard the figures speaking. They spoke in male and female voices. They were talking about how they had been dream characters but how, now that the dream was ending, they were going back to some place where they spent the rest of their time.

They were speaking with each other in a joking, familiar tone about the stuff they had shown me during my dream. One of the female voices addressed another character as David. The name David affected me for a number of reasons, which I was very aware of, having to do with both family members and big world events that had happened when I was young.

I had the understanding that these characters were actually elements of my personality, and that at this moment they were all autonomous to interact with each other, apart from me. It was kind of like being able to look in from the outside on a schizophrenic episode, which kind of worried me.

I could now sense the characters sinking away somewhere, possibly into the base of my brain, or the very top of the back of my neck.

I now had a beautiful hypnagogic vision: a black background filled with twirling squares and circles, curtains full, of purple, scale-like shapes. This vision buzzed around for a while, then faded away into waking life altogether.

Good morning, everybody. I feel lousy today. I think I've caught another cold. Ugh!

I remember two dreams from last night. I feel like the first dream is only a fragment. Also, the second dream occurred between 5 AM, when I woke (and saw I still had some time to sleep) and 5:30 AM, when I got out of bed.

Dream #1

I had been walking around at night with my friend T. She had spoken with me about something like the two of us having sex.

We ended up at some place. We were in a bedroom. The bedroom was lit only with the glow of a TV. The room seemed to be split in two halves by a partition or wall. We were in the half with the bed. The floor of this half seemed to be set down lower than the floor of the other half.

I lay on my back on the bed. T straddled me from above. We may both have been naked. Then suddenly I was wearing baby diapers. I may have been an adult wearing baby diapers at first. But then I was actually a little baby, being changed by T.

Dream #2

I stood out in the parking lot of a mall during the daytime with an older man and possibly some younger men and women. The older man was probably tall, wearing nice clothes and dark-tinted eyeglasses. I may have been a child's height, coming up only to the man's waist, even though I seemed to think like myself at my present age.

The man was holding a huge, black, plastic gun that looked like it was from a cartoon. The barrel swelled out and in, like the sections of a wasp's body. The man asked me where I had gotten this gun. I was holding a similar, smaller gun.

I told the man I had gotten it at "The Anime Shop." I had gotten it for some girl who really liked anime. I saw the girl in my mind's eye. She was a Latina friend of mine.

I told the man I could show him where The Anime Shop was. I could see an "address" for the shop. It think it had the numbers 44 and 45 in it.

We walked into the mall. The corridor we were in was lit red. It seemed to have a jungle theme to it. There were stores in the middle of the corridor as well as along the walls. These stores looked like wooden huts in odd shapes. We had to wind our way around them.

I kept looking around for The Anime Shop. I had been pretty sure it was down this corridor. But we were now approaching the end of the corridor. Through glass doors I at first saw what looked like the interior of a really nice department store. But as we got much closer to the glass doors I saw that beyond them was actually another corridor, this one looking more like a normal mall's corridor. I may even have seen a TCBY (???).

I felt bad because I had led the older man all the way down the wrong corridor. I now realized that The Anime Shop was in a parallel but separate corridor. I knew we'd have to walk through the regular part of the mall to get there. But I didn't know if the older man would trust me any longer to guide him there.

Good morning, everybody. I recall three dreams from last night. The third dream definitely occurred between 5 AM and 7 AM.

Just as a side note, in waking life my opinions about South Africa and Chile are not like the portrayals in the second and third dreams. The "South Africa" and "Chile" of my dreams are more a reflection of myself.

The "keyhole" comment the father makes in the third dream is absolutely influenced by the "keyhole" comment the prospective stepfather makes in Laurel Nakadate's movie The Wolf Knife.

Also, I seem to portray myself as some kind of awesome ladies' man and businessman. It would be cool if I were. But, alas...

Dream #1

I may have seen this dream from the third person, and from a very low angle, possibly as low as the floor.

A man was standing on some lower level of floor, and possibly also separated by a barrier, from two other people. The man was probably young, though he may have acted old.

The man was bragging about how McDonald's in his country was better than McDonald's in America. The other two people asked him to explain why.

The man, agitated, shouted, "Well, for example, Big Macs! In my country, our secret sauce has an extra special ingredient!"

The other two asked what this ingredient was.

The man shouted, "Gall!" By which I understood that human gall was being used as an ingredient for the special sauce.

That sounded terribly unappetizing to me. I may have been half awake at this point, wondering why people would volunteer to have their gall-bladders drained so that the gall could be used in Big Macs.

Dream #2

I was sitting with a woman at the back of a darkened conference room. The conference room was full of rows of long tables. At the front of the room was a large pull-down projector screen.

Projected on the screen was a view of a man and a woman. The woman in the room with me sat to my right. The way the woman and man on the screen were positioned, the woman on the screen was across from me and the man on the screen was across from the woman.

The woman on the screen was maybe 17 or 18 years old, black, very pretty, with short, black hair. The man, possibly a little older than the woman, looked Latino or possibly Filipino. He wore a frumpy dress shirt.

The woman and man were representing the appliance company Maytag. They were holding a video conference to discuss the company's financial results.

The woman and the man spoke for a little while and then came to something like a conclusion. I'm pretty sure the discussion didn't have anything to do with Maytag's operations.

The woman then began bowing repeatedly and saying something in Japanese, something incongruent, like "onegashimasu."

I suddenly noticed that the woman was wearing a costume like a mix between Uhuru from Star Trek's dress and a pink, silk cat-girl outfit, even with pink, silk cat-girl ears on her head.

The man and the woman then began joking, as if they were having banter on some kind of TV talk show. I wondered what the heck kind of financial reporting this was.

The man now said something about how the South African broadcasting company was experiencing technical difficulties broadcasting from the present building. So the man and woman had to switch buildings.

I don't know if I'd realized before this point that the conference call was taking place in South Africa. I figured it made sense that there were technical difficulties, given the current infrastructure situation in South Africa (???).

The man and the woman now began clowning around on the screen even more. The screen's view then switched to a view of either a huge office or a huge apartment in a tall building. A pretty, young, Asian woman with really sexy eyes and brown hair sat before the camera, with a huge window behind her.

The Asian woman was eating a huge, sloppy hamburger. She got all fussy and pouty, as if she were offended that anybody might expect her to act professional. She whined, "Well, everybody is still coming over here to get the conference call started. So I'm gonna eat some food."

I was wondering what the hell was going on with this conference call. It was the least professional conference call I'd ever seen in my life.

I wondered how long it was going to take to get the conference call started back up. I wondered if I needed to change buildings as well. I felt like that would cause a terrible delay. But I then realized that my screen was fine. I didn't need to change buildings. It was just the connection in South Africa that was having troubles.

Dream #3

I was in Chile with a somewhat wealthy Chilean family. The family was a father and three daughters.

We had been out doing something when something happened to me whereby I received a lot of money. At the same time, the father received a call from a company saying that he owed the company a lot of money. We had to head back to the family's home, which was a pretty big apartment in a tall building.

I had been flirting with the oldest daughter while we had been out. But, also, something I had done had upset the middle daughter. She was now in the kitchen, pouting.

I walked from the hallway into the kitchen by pushing open a set of swinging doors (like might be in the doorway of a saloon in a Western movie). The kitchen was narrow. The daughter sat in a window well at the end of the kitchen.

I pulled my wallet out of my pocket. I told the girl, "You know I said that once I had money I'd help you with -----." I began fingering through some American bills, trying to figure out how much money I needed to give the girl. The girl warmed up to me. She didn't seem so upset anymore.

I sat in the window-well with the girl. I put my right arm around her. I then began fondling her between her legs with my left hand. I wondered if what I was doing was right. After all, I had just been flirting with the oldest daughter. Should I really be flirting with the middle daughter, too?

Then I realized that, somehow, the "agreement" among the family was that I should act as a "husband" for all three daughters. So it was okay for me to be messing around with all three girls.

Someone called the girl and me out to the living room.

I was now lying on my stomach in the living room, looking into another room through a doorway. I saw a young man lying on his back on a mattress. The young man was sick. He was possibly about to die. One of the reasons, I realized, that we had come back home was because the young man had suddenly taken ill while we had all been out.

(I should also say that somehow the mother's death, "a few years back," played into this part of the dream. But I can't remember how.)

The father was sitting at the table in the adjacent dining room. His business partner sat to his left. The father was on the phone, possibly with the company that was claiming the father's supposed debt.

I figured that there was something I should be doing to take care of this situation. I felt I could be resourceful enough to take care of something. I knew people (???). I should be able to get in touch with someone in the US who knew an expert in Chilean financial legal matters.

The father addressed me. He told me how much he loved this place. He had a black-and-white satellite-photograph map of the neighborhood laid out on the table. He pointed out a specific park that he and his family loved going to. The park was next to a plaza and a museum. It was a very prestigious neighborhood.

My view zoomed "upward" away from the park as the father explained mournfully how it was likely that the family was going to be forced out of this neighborhood by its sudden financial troubles.

My brother, who, I now saw, had been sitting across from the father, pushed a piece of notebook paper across the table to the father. The paper had a transcription of the "contract" which was the main point of dispute between the father and the company.

My brother had made the transcription in green pen. The writing was all some kind of hieroglyphic or symbol language, full of radish-shaped, circular letters with circles inside of them. I might have told myself something silly, like this was the native Mayan (???) language of Chile.

The father began critiquing my brother's transcription. He used a pen to insert a crucial "keyhole" (as he called it) glyph into the transcription.

I sat down to the father's right as he tearfully began explaining everything the contract meant. The father was thin, but it seemed like he was just beginning to gain weight, as if he'd be overweight in a few years. He had coppery skin and a tight, curly hairstyle. He wore a brown, tweed suit, a white dress shirt, and a tie.

The man's business partner wore a very similar suit. But the partner was pale white, very thin, tall, and gangly. He wore square, silver-rimmed glasses. He had shaggy, red-brown hair and a half-stubbly beard.

The father translated the "Mayan" document for me. He was eventually able to explain to me that there was some kind of claim being made by the company for cash which should really have been considered a "non-cash" obligation (???).

It was becoming increasingly clear to me, as the father tearfully explained the text, that the terms of the contract actually didn't specify a monetary obligation at all, but a kind of conditional agreement that would only have a monetary value based on certain successes, which the father did not have.

Finally, when I saw the situation for what it was, I began talking, right over the father's weeping explanations. I kept asking the father who his legal counsel was. It took a while for the father to stop crying and just listen to me.

My plan was to see what kind of legal counsel the father had. But I already knew that if the father didn't have sufficient legal counsel, I would almost certainly be able to find some in the United States.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was at "my office," which was nothing like an offce. I stood on the top of a gigantic (30m tall?) Kitchen counter, looking down over a gathering of flowers that were almost as tall as the kitchen counter. The blossoms were about 5m across and looked like a mix between lotuses and zinnias. They were a cream-white color with yellowy centers.

From down on the floor, from which the flowers grew, I could hear my company's CEO and someone else talking. They had been planning a party. (There may have been an earlier part to this dream in which I had been helping with the party planning.) They now may have made some reference to me, as if I were not present.

I thought I would get their attention. I thought I could hop from flower to flower to get closer to them. But I figured that wasn't a great idea. The flowers were probably weak. They might not support my weight.

At some point, it may have seemed like the flowers were floating in a body of water, as if this gigantic kitchen had been flooded up to the level of the countertop.

Something had been settled regarding my role in the party, and I was now walking along the counter-top, trying to get to wherever I needed to get to take care of my task. The kitchen floor seemed to get closer and closer, and things took on more and more of a regular proportion.

At some point my CEO walked past me, coming from the opposite direction. He may have been walking on the countertop, but I think he actually was down on the kitchen floor, which was now only 3m or so below the counter-top. I said hi to him. He said hi and addressed me by my name. I was pleasantly surprised that he knew my name.

I walked past some tall cardboard boxes that were on the counter-top. At the end of the counter-top was something that looked like a way-oversized wheelchair-ramp leading down to an oversized lobby that looked like the lobby to a small office building in a suburban office park.

I somehow found myself on another ledge, like an oversized counter-top, looking down (about 5m) to an oversized area that had been set up "to look like" a 1950s-style diner (even though I don't think now that the place actually looked like a 1950s-style diner).

The place had clean wood floors, white walls, and a few round tables. Over the huge front door was a huge "1950s-style" sign which looked like a mix between a clock and a spoon. The name of the restaurant was given, with a (not very convincing) "1950s-style" slogan underneath it.

I'd had to turn around to see the sign. I turned back around and was now in a smallish theatre, which was still, somehow, the "1950s diner." I stood (on the floor!) at the top and back of the theatre.

The theatre was full of young people, mostly boys. The theatre's seats were all set up at a couple of different angles. The seating was very steep, like stadium seating. The chairs were red. Down at the bottom was a small stage.

I understood that an anime festival was about to take place here. Some presenter (possibly a shortish, youngish-looking Asian woman in a grey t-shirt, pale blue jeans, and glasses) was about to begin speaking.

I found a couple of my friends: a man I don't recognize and my female friend T. They were sitting at the back of the theatre, on red-leather and chrome stools like counter-stools in a 1950s diner.

I went over to my friends. I lay down across a couple of the stools, stomach-down. I wondered if these seats were very good. After all, this place was packed. Once the presentation started, would we have a bunch of people constantly crowding in front of us?

My stool-tops now seemed to come directly out of the floor now, instead of being atop chrome poles. T, wearing a long skirt, lifted up her skirt to straddle me and sit on my back.

I kind of got mad that T had lifted up her skirt. I knew that she'd lift it up enough so that anybody looking would easily see the crotch of her panties. There had already been some creeps looking in our direction. Now that T had basically flashed everybody, these guys would probably really want to cause trouble for me.

At some point I may have had to tell T to get off me. The way the stool-tops were set and the way T sat on me were putting a lot of pressure on my spine. I figured I'd just roll down onto the floor and let T sit on me that way.

After this, T and I were standing by some doorway, just outside the theatre, looking into the dark theatre through a half-opened door. We stood in a white walled hallway.

We were talking to a couple of older, rich-looking, white people, probably a man and a woman. The man and woman were famous and possibly had had something to do with the anime and manga industry. We may have been making plans to collaborate on something.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a long line, probably all of young men, in a cafeteria or gymnasium that had been set up like a cafeteria. The cafeteria was crowded and busy. Everything had a bluish tinge to it. The line kind of snaked around in a square. It was moving slowly but steadily.

As I was working my way through the line, around one corner, I could see a group of girls sitting at the end of a long table. The girls looked like the girls from Girls Generation. They were also famous singers. I could see them only a little bit through the spaces between the people in front of me.

The girls started singing a little song/chant involving my name. It seemed like they were half-teasing me and half-flirting with me through the song. I knew that the girls were my friends. In fact, I had been sitting with them before I'd gotten in line.

I was now moving forward to where the girls could see me plainly. The line was still moving. I thought that as I passed the girls I would wave or do something like that to acknowledge them quickly without stopping and blocking up the line.

But when I was in full view of the girls, one of them told me to stop right where I was and stand still so she could take pictures of me. I stopped. But I was afraid of the guys behind me. They were tall and they seemed really mean. And it seemed like the instant I'd stopped walking, the guys had started to get impatient with me.

I was trying to think up a couple quick poses to give for the camera. But I could only think up feminine poses. I also felt shaky, because I was afraid of the guys behind me, who were getting very impatient. But I was trying to act unconcerned, innocently oblivious to the guys' anger. This somehow seemed feminine to me as well.

(Good morning, everybody. This is a really long entry. Sorry.

I remember three dreams from last night. The first two dreams happened sometime between midnight and 5 AM. The third dream was between about 5:30 AM and 7 AM.

I became lucid in the third dream, and sustained my lucidity for quite a while. But I think it was mainly because I “conserved my energy” and didn’t really try anything out of my normal range of dream-activity.)

Dream #1

I was coming back to “my apartment.” I was walking through a building that itself was as big as a small neighborhood. I walked through one area, a huge room with tall ceilings and wood walls.

As I walked through the area, I went past a young man and woman who were possibly standing outside the door to the woman’s apartment. The door may have been pale blue.

The woman was very pretty, with copper-colored skin and long, straight, black hair. The man was handsome, white, tall, with blonde hair about down to his shoulders. He wore a grey, wool cap and some winter clothes.

The man was telling the woman that he would make sure her move went smoothly. She was apparently moving to another place, and she was nervous about it. I gathered, from the man’s speech to the woman, that the man would make sure she didn’t experience the same harassment she’d experienced at her present apartment.

But as I was walking past the couple (I didn’t actually get very close to them, and I had to exit via another door into another room in order to get to “my building”), the man and woman expressed some kind of concern that I was going to get them in trouble. It was as if, as well as the woman experiencing harassment from some group of people, the man and the woman had themselves been accused of causing trouble in their neighborhood. They thought I was the kind of person who would get them in trouble again.

I walked softly and quickly through the door, trying my best to give an impression to the man and woman that I was nice, that I wouldn’t harass the woman, and that I wouldn’t get the man and woman in trouble – in other words, that I would just mind my own business.

I walked into the next area, which was like a mix between some completely forgotten room or corridor in an enormous mansion and a back alley. A light shone from high above, and at the heights of the room, it was dark as night, though it was light enough near the floor. The walls were wood, and the floor had a pale, blue-grey carpeting. But there was junk everywhere, like tattered cardboard boxes, wadded up pieces of wrapping plastic, and other garbage. There seemed to be turns and staircases here and there, leading up to other “apartment buildings.”

I walked toward my building, which didn’t even have a front door, just a staircase leading up to a winding ramp into darkness. My landlord, an older, black man or woman, stood at the top of or on one of the curves in the ramp. He/she apparently knew I was coming home, so he/she was waiting to welcome me back. I may have been away for a few days, doing something like visiting my family.

I didn’t realize, but the young man had followed me all the way here. My “building,” it turned out, was the building that the young woman would be staying in. I thought that for sure the man would now be panicked. He and the woman had been so afraid to begin with that I would get them in trouble. And now it looked like I had “reverse followed” him all the way to the woman’s new residence.

I tried to act natural and cool, to make the man understand I wasn’t going to do anything mean to him or the woman. I spoke a little bit with the landlord, in a kind of easy, happy tone. I then said I was going to head on in to my room and get a little rest.

As I headed toward my room, through a door along a dim balcony facing at an odd angle to the ramps and the long alley-corridor, I heard the landlord now speaking with the young man. I thought, Why not prove that I’m a good guy, and let the young man see inside my room? Once he sees how lived-in my place is, he’ll know I’ve been here a few years, I’m a decent guy, and that I won’t do anything rude or mean to the woman or him?

So I called attention to the landlord and the young man. I had them come over to my room. I opened the door to my room. The room was humongous and dim. But I could tell, just by glancing inside, that the room was a complete mess – a disaster! Plus, the place just let out a horrendous smell, like tons and tons of socks that hadn’t been washed for months!

I quickly closed the door and told the landlord and young man nevermind, that I must have forgotten what I wanted to tell them. They walked away, kind of disappeared.

I suddenly felt suspicious of the young man. I felt that, now that he’d seen even just a little into my room, and he’d seen where I live, that he’d try to break into my room. I closed my door. I walked slowly away, as if I was trying to put on some kind of show that I didn’t really live in this apartment.

I suddenly recognized that, just beyond my door, the wall to my room only went up to about the middle of my chest. You could see inside the room just by standing out on the balcony. I looked inside, hoping that nothing of value would be easily spotted, prompting the young man to break into my house and steal things.

All I could see, though, anywhere, was a bunch of clutter and garbage. I felt like there was no way I could have left my place this way when I’d left. Had I been that neglectful of things? Or had I been gone so long that my place just kind of dissolved into these shambles of itself?

I walked around the corner of the balcony, now facing some dim corner of the alley-corridor directly, but still having a good view into my room.

Down below, in my room, I saw a huge, pale-blue, L-shaped couch. It was completely torn up. The stuffing of the couch was bloating out of the cushions, and a black, metal frame jutted out the edges.

Suddenly, my mother burst out from the inside of the couch. She scrambled out of the couch cushions. She then rabidly twitched and scratched against the couch, tearing it even more to pieces. She looked terrible, like she’d become some kind of wild animal.

I was terrified by this. But I quickly became indignant. Who had allowed my mother into my apartment? I ran down the balcony to find someone to complain to.

I ended up on some dark hilltop, under a small tree. It was pitch black night, but I could see, as if a car from somewhere were shining its lights on the scene. There were a few people wandering around, possibly Hispanic.

I found my father, who was almost cartoonishly wide. He was also dressed somewhat like a clown, in red clothes with pink and orange polka-dots. He may even have worn a clown-nose.

I yelled at my dad, “Why did you let my mom into my apartment?”

My dad gave me some kind of excuse that sounded half-hearted but official, so that I couldn’t really argue against it.

Dream #2

I was in a subway station, waiting for the train to come. I was in a far-off, unfamiliar neighborhood, and I had been doing some kind of activity that made me tired and ready to go back somewhere familiar.

The subway station was more like the lobby for a building like a hospital. I sat at a table in an area that looked like a makeshift café. The serving counter may have been in a small room, off to my right. Behind me, there may have been the main lobby area, large and bright, with a lot of sunlight flowing through the window-walls.

To my left was a wide doorway, through which I could see one subway platform. Through a kind of dim, plasticky window at the opposite end of the room and in front of me, I could see another subway platform.

I pulled out a book, crossed my legs, slumped in my chair, and started reading. A couple of teenage boys sat down a couple of tables away from me. They were making jokes with each other, pretty relaxed. They seemed cool. But for some reason, I didn’t want them to notice me. I thought they might start trouble.

Suddenly I could see, from some kind of reflection, that the train on the platform to my left was coming. It seemed to be coming without warning and very quickly. In a rush, the boys and I stood up from our tables and ran to the platform.

But I didn’t want the boys to know I got on this train. I felt that if they knew this about me they could hurt me somehow. So I tried to act like I wasn’t getting onto this train.

But when I got out to the platform (which was huge, wide, with tall ceilings, nothing like in NYC), the train wasn’t there. I heard the rushing of a train to my left. I looked and saw, down the platform, and up at the top of a tall staircase, a different train arriving at another platform. Was it just that train I’d heard? But I could have sworn I’d seen the train arrive on this platform, as well as heard it.

I looked down into the well for the train and tracks for my platform – and was terribly shocked! Instead of tracks, the floor was completely empty, trackless, and painted a bright yellow. There were no tracks! No train could ever have arrived here! But I was sure this was where the train was supposed to be – where I had actually seen it arrive!

I felt terribly foggy all of the sudden, as if I had fallen into a different world.

I heard the train on the second platform, off to my right, arriving. I thought I’d take that train. But I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere close to where I wanted to go. I knew I’d just have to take this train, at this platform, whenever it came, no matter how long it took.

So I went back into the café area to go back to reading my book.

Dream #3

I was in my great-grandmother’s house. I had apparently been there for a long time. The place looked nothing like it had looked while my great-grandmother was alive: it was dim, grey-blue, and strewn garbage, household items, and even streams of toilet paper.

I walked around in the kitchen and dining room, possibly picking up and eating and drinking pieces of food and drink that had been left out for a long time on dirty plates and in dirty, grimy cups. There may also have been dirty, rusty knives, or something like that, somewhere.

I walked back into the living room. I felt like I had isolated myself in my great-grandmother’s house for so long. It had been days. Here I’d been, back home all this time, and I hadn’t visited my mother once!

I thought I’d give her a call and let her know I was at my great-grandma’s house, and that she could come visit me or maybe even pick me up so we could go somewhere to visit with each other. But I hesitated – I now felt so guilty having neglected my mother for all these days, that I knew just calling her would cause me a lot of heart-breaking pain.

I was suddenly in “my bedroom” at “my house.” The room was clean, a little barren. Nice sunlight flowed in through the window. It was cheerful enough. But it felt somehow lonely – not just lonely, but sterile, padded.

Something about this feeling made me realize I was dreaming. I realized I was now lucid. I told myself to keep calm and just go exploring this place as if it were a real environment.

(Oddly enough, when I became lucid, I may have “transformed” into a tallish, white, young man with tanned skin, blue eyes, and short-shaved, blonde hair. I have no idea why.)

I walked out of the bedroom and into “my living room.” I was in a suburban house. The house looked small and nice. But it was completely empty. It had thick, brown carpet.

I walked very slowly, to keep my emotions calm. I was heading for the front door. This was a kind of challenge for me, and I knew (even in my dream-state), that I had to keep calm in order to do this. I knew, I remembered (the truth, not a false memory – I mean, insofar as etc., etc.) that when I’d become lucid indoors in the past, my lucidity would end as soon as I walked outside, as if I hadn’t believed my imagination could “create” an outdoor space.

I got to the door. It had a strange bolt-lock on it, which I thought was kind of over-doing things. I worked the lock out and pulled open the door.

It was a bright, sunshiny day in a suburban neighborhood. I told myself to remain calm, remember this was all a dream, and just explore the place like it was a real environment.

My front yard was a tangle of flowery vegetation and rough, dark shrubs. There was a driveway off to my right, with a big, brown, 1970s-style car.

A blonde man, very tan, with a long tangle of hair and beard, was messing around near “my car.” He looked crazy, and I was afraid of him. But I was also pissed that he was messing around my car. So I yelled at him, “Hey! Hey! What are you doing?”

The crazy man hunched up (he never really stood) and turned toward me. He shouted and growled and barked all kinds of weird things at me and started rambling toward me violently. For some reason, he was holding a Panini and a paper plate in his hands, as if he had been eating a Panini when he’d seen my car and decided to vandalize it or rip it off.

It seemed as if the crazy man were going to try to invade my home. So I yelled at him, “Don’t you come near!”

The neighbor from the house to my left, an Asian man, in his late 30s or early 40s, wearing glasses, a pink-red polo shirt, and khaki shorts, walked out of his house and into my yard. He’d heard the commotion and was coming to help me.

I yelled again at the crazy man to back off and not to come anywhere near my home. But I also tried to make it seem to my neighbor like I had the situation under control. I felt like this crazy man was somehow important to whatever I was supposed to learn from this lucid dream. So I had to keep him at a distance without scaring him away entirely. I also wanted to make sure my neighbor didn’t scare away the crazy man.

Off to my right, in my garden, I saw a strange plant that looked like a Cleome topped with a cabbage. The cabbage was pink and white, like Cleome flowers.

Somehow, either my yelling my neighbor’s yelling had finally scared away the crazy man. He ran off. I, and possibly my neighbor, ran after him.

He ran down toward a chain link fence that ran along the crest of a kind of tall, kind of steep, cliff-like hill. I was calling to the crazy man to stop. I wasn’t trying to do him harm. But my neighbor was running faster than me, and he was chasing the crazy man quite violently.

The crazy man found a bent-up part of chain-link fence and crawled under it. I followed. I saw the crazy man run down the steep, brown hill-face, jumping into a shallow, muddy river or creek at the bottom.

My neighbor was still ahead of me, intent on capturing the crazy man. But once the crazy man was in the water, he did something to himself so that my neighbor could no longer see him. He had changed his wild, blonde hair into a weird, pink, green, and white, spiky flower style, looking like a hairdo-mix of a Cleome and a lotus. He ducked down low in the creek so that only his head was above water.

But I could still see that it was the crazy man. I wondered why my neighbor couldn’t. Nothing was different about the crazy man’s face: it was just his hair that looked like a lotus floating on the water.

I could see that the crazy man was drifting toward a group of copper-skinned, black haired children who were playing and splashing about near the creek’s banks. I thought that it might be a good idea to get the crazy man away from the children. He had gone over to them to blend in with them until we left. But I had a feeling that if he suddenly went crazy again, he could hurt the kids.

But now the crazy man and my neighbor were gone. I stood in some rocky area, looking down to the kids playing in the creek. At some point I looked over to my right and saw that there was a subway station, just jutting in a platform out of the hill, as if it were half-finished, forgotten. But it also looked new, clean, modern, even futuristic. And it was functional.

I saw some kids, maybe pre-teen or teenage, playing around near the platform, waiting for the train. I was up near the top of the hill now (which, instead of being muddy or earthy, was now rocky). I was at a pretty level view with the platform and with the kids. I hoped they wouldn’t notice me, because I didn’t want them to start trouble with me.

My emotions got so unstable that I felt my lucidity fading away.

But instead of the dream continuing, not lucid, everything blacked out. I told myself, you’re losing your lucidity. You’re waking up altogether. Go back to being in the dream, and being lucid.

So now I was back in the dream, lucid. I lay, stomach down, over some ledge of rock, looking down to some of the kids playing in the creek. They may have been a boy and a girl. They noticed me and started handing me toys to play with with them. One of the toys was a plastic horse.

I played around with the horse a little bit, then handed it back to the kids, who went back into the water.

I walked into the subway station. Inside, it seemed like it had become night. The station was lit gently with a kind of street-quality, greenish, fluorescent flood-lamp. The walls were a brownish stone, and the floors were some kind of granite-like grey. There was a downward staircase in the center of the lobby-area, and there were a few different corridors leading off from the main lobby-area.

I walked down one of the corridors off to my right. I heard a bunch of teenage kids who sounded like they were joking and having a good time. I decided that I should probably talk with the kids instead of being nervous and shy around them. This was a dream, and I was here to explore whatever I ran into.

So I saw the kids. They were a group of white boys and girls, dressed in kind of loose baggy sweaters and wool caps. They were making a bunch of jokes which struck me as intelligent and funny. I thought I’d talk to them. But they really didn’t pay any attention to me. So, rather than trying to hard to get their attention and getting hostile attention, I walked down another corridor.

But now I heard somebody calling for me. I wound around through the corridors, back to the area where the kids had been. It had definitely sounded like one of the boys, calling me back to be part of the group.

But when I got back to the area – something like a lobby, with a long, wooden counter at the front of the room, and a tall, nice painting on the cinder-block wall to my left – there were no kids, only two women. The women were both naked. They walked toward me, side by side.

The woman on the right was very tall, maybe a foot taller than I (or “I” in the dream). She was naked, but she wore a dark-blue plume of feathers as a headdress and a spray of dark blue feathers around her waist and back. She looked like a burlesque performer.

The woman on the left was still taller than I, maybe by an inch or two. She was pale, with long, curly, light-red hair. The women were both offering themselves to me for sex. I chose the shorter woman.

The woman stood right in front of me, almost to the point of pressing up to me. I asked her a question, and she replied. Satisfied, I began kissing her body.

We had sex in two or three different positions. But in one position I realized I was just doing a terrible job, and that I must just be making a weird situation for the woman, even though she did at least appear to be having fun. Regardless, I got so ashamed of what I perceived as being my stupid clumsiness that I woke up.

Good morning, everybody. I had no dream recall over the weekend. But I recall three dreams from last nignt.

Dream #1

I had been looking through a series of photos, possibly with my mother and an unidentified male. The photos were either of people who had some kind of congenital deformation or who had been tortured and mutilated. A lot of the victims in the photos had bloody eyes.

My mother asked me if I wanted to see the last photo, which was apparently the worst. I tried to see it, but it was now like I had to walk through a series of white bedsheets just to get to the photo.

I had an image in my head of a young, white man with lightly tanned skin and long, curly, blonde hair. I told myself, He's gotten so deformed, he's even growing fingers out of his head.

I was afraid to see the photo. But I may finally have seen it. The man had bloody eyes, just like the people in all the other photos.

Dream #2

I was in a dark room that was like a bedroom but was also like some kind of big, back room that might be used for storage in a shop or theatre. I was floating around, possibly disembodied, possibly only a couple feet off the ground.

I was imagining or remembering a conversation I'd had with an Asian man who had just auditioned for a rock band I was starting up. Apparently there were a lot of similar auditions going on. I had asked the man if he had made any plans to be in any of the other bands, as if to say that being in my band would be his second or third choice. By this, I seemed to imply that he would really only be my second or third choice.

The man had replied that this band was the only band he was interested in joining. I was disappointed. But I also felt bad for making the man feel like he was only my second or third choice. I probablly decided, while floating around, disembodied, in this dim room, that I would have this man in my band. I may have felt at this time that the man was in a dark bedroom off to the side of this room.

I may have floated up a wheelchair ramp toward the front of this dim room. I may have seen the exit to this room. The door was open, revealing a hallway that looked like a hotel hallway.

I floated back down toward the back of the room. I started singing a rock song that I was making up on the spur of the moment for the man. The song was about how hard it was to be in a rock band, but how, if he wanted to be in my band, he could.

As I sang this song, I floated around a small pile of junk on the floor, then back up to the front of the room.

Dream #3

A young man was living in some gigantic apartment building. He had gotten mixed up with some young men who were starting up trouble in the building.

The young man had a friend who was keeping away from the troublemakers. The troublemakers had decided to hurt the friend.

The young man was torn by this. He wanted to be part of the troublemakers' gang. But he didn't want to hurt his friend. He'd thought the gang had actually stood for something. Now he was starting to wonder.

The young man went into his aunt's apartment, which was little more than a bed-sized room. The aunt, who looked like Aunt Bea from Andy Griffith, sat, maybe on the edge of her bed, using a sewing machine. Her "sewing" project was a series of colored strings that ran, like a spider web, up to the ceiling, then back down to a white sheet hung on the front wall, beside and over the bed.

The young man had to walk on the bed to get from the door, on the left side of the room, over to the side of the room. As the young man walked over, his aunt gave him a big speech. It was about where the young man would have to live if he went to prison, and particularly to death row. The aunt would have to follow this man wherever he'd go. Apparently this might even involve going to "the Gulf Coast of Mars."

The aunt said she didn't want to have to move to some new apartment building on Mars or anywhere else, so the young man better just shape up.

The young man finally understood that the troublemakers were just criminals, and that they didn't actually stand for anything. He decided to quit the gang and try to save his friend. He walked back over the bed and out of his aunt's apartment.

I was worried for the young man, his friend, and his aunt. I thought for sure the friend would be killed. But I also could imagine a scene where the aunt's sewing project was destroyed --vandalized -- by the gang because the aunt had taken a stand against the gang.

This dream I had was long but because I did not write it down when I awoke I have forgotten most of it. The part that I do remember took place somewhere in between the middle and the end.


A lean, young man with frizzy brown hair and I are in a small hotel room. The door is to my right, the bed in front of me and a narrow window to my left. There is a wooden nightstand with a small white lamp on one side of the bed but other than that the room is empty. The translucent sheer curtains of the window are pulled back and tied in a knot to keep them open. The carpet is a garish lime green and the bed's duvet is a dark green with pale yellow sheets underneath. Everything appears clean and orderly.

The young man is not someone I recognize from waking life and for some reason we are standing near the window having an argument. I cannot remember what the argument was about but I turn my back on him out of frustration. Before I can go anywhere the guy pulls a gun out of his pants, grabs me in a headlock with his right arm and holds the gun the my left temple. He screams and spits in my ear (but I cannot remember about what) and I am too startled to move. He stops yelling for a moment and his grasp slackens just enough that I can squirm out of the headlock. The young man does not make any attempt to stop me from doing so and lowers his weapon. He silently stares out of the window and I stare at him for a while.

I make a move to leave but the young man turns around and points the gun at me again, saying that I "can never leave". I was not afraid that he was going to shoot me, rather that he was going to hurt himself in some way. I sat down on the end of the bed and asked him to give me the gun, which he had again lowered to his side. He shakes his head, refuses to hand it over, leans against the window frame, crosses his arms and stares at the carpet. For a while the young man does not talk to me or even look at me and I sit on the edge of the bed, feeling frustrated and bored.

The young man suddenly begins pacing back and forth in front of the window, waving the gun around wildly and yelling at the top of his lungs about whatever is upsetting him. Since he does not address me or look at me as he rages I think for a moment that he has forgotten about my presence. I contemplate making a break for the door but the desire to take the guy's gun is stronger than wanting to leave for some reason. I edge myself to the end of the bed, closest to the window, and watch the young man's movements carefully.

I stand up slowly and ask him if there is anything I can do for him. He does not answer but he stops yelling and waving the gun but continues to pace back and forth. His eyes are opened wide and he sweating. When I see my chance I grab his left wrist (of which hand is holding the gun) with my left hand and pin it against the wall with all my bodyweight. The young man could have easily punched me or grabbed me in a headlock with his free hand, but he does not. Instead he uses his right hand to grab the wrist of my left hand (that has his left hand pinned) and tries to pull himself free of my grasp.

Wrapping my right hand around the barrel of the gun I succeed in wiggling it from his grasp when I dig the nails of my left hand as hard as I can into his wrist. The guy backs off to the far corner of the room, crosses his arms protectively across his chest and sulks. I toss the gun on the bed and leave the hotel room. The young man does not try to come after me.