Dream: Take the Rainbow

I was in a school room—my second grade classroom, to be exact, but it was a high school class. We had a substitute teacher who was taking over for Mr. Pike (high school teacher), but it was a very small class. The sub, a short, kind of round black lady had handed out these magazines we were supposed to read.

In the magazine, there were pictures of a factory in China where people had been tied to their work stations with barbed wire, but a strange heat had swept through, blackening everything and killing everything, but leaving the general shapes intact. Kind of like Pompeii, except they weren’t encased, the bodies were just hardened and desiccated at the same time.

There was another picture of cattle that had been tied to bars before the heat swept over them, and one was pulling at the rope, the front of its body low to the ground, its legs straining.

Everyone in the class seemed to be quite affected by the pictures, so much so that we didn’t want to do the exercise associated with them. The substitute teacher said there was an activity we could do with the class guinea pig, to cast a protective spell around it. I searched the classroom to find the spell we were supposed to perform, but I couldn’t find it. The sub began to write “Sorry about the guinea pig…” on the chalkboard over its cage.

There was a door in the wall where the windows should have been (if the front of the classroom was North, the wall was West-facing), but it would not open. People in the room started to worry that the heat that had destroyed the place in China would destroy us as well, because we couldn’t get out of the room, and we were trapped even though we weren’t tied down.

The sub teacher kept writing things on chalkboards throughout the room, and she said we could make a portal in the wall and take a rainbow out of the room (though it seemed she meant out of the world) if the heat came after us. I didn’t know how she planned to open the portal, but I felt like she knew a lot more about what was going to happen than she was letting on.

Interpretation: Survival is a red chakra kind of issue, and were going to end up leaving the guinea pig (animal nature) behind if we left on a rainbow. We were also getting out of the classroom, which is often used to describe the Earth (I suppose it could be considered a classroom, but not from a seventh density perspective). The rainbow here seems to be a chakra reference as well, and by activating the chakras we could experience a higher plane.

If D.W.’s assertion that people of other races represent the subconscious is correct, then the substitute teacher/my subconscious was attempting to show me how to ascend, in a way.

I also think it was a bit of advice not to get caught up in my job (like the people in the factory, who suffered the same fate as the tied cattle), which is a real time suck that occupies a great deal of my attention. I have been practicing feeling happiness, even when I run over the back of my heel with a cart or cut up my hands on boxes, but I haven’t been putting as much attention toward meditating or stilling the conscious mind.

Dream: Of Wind and Deer

I was at my mom’s, but we were living in our old house (my aunt’s house). We were cleaning in the garage and there was a really strong wind that blew in and lifted me right off my feet. If I concentrated, the wind became stronger until I was lifted to the rafters. I called to my mom to look, and she kind of laughed, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Later we were looking out at the backyard, but I’m not sure from where, because it was higher than the house and I couldn’t see any windows. I saw a deer in the backyard, a fawn, back by the fence under the pine trees

. After a few moments, I saw the body of the deer’s mother on the other side of the fence, a bloody wound on her throat where she’d been shot.

I didn’t understand how someone could just kill something like a deer and then just leave it in the sun to bloat and rot. To kill for the sake of killing was a blatant cruelty to me, but knew that whoever had shot it wouldn’t think of him/herself as cruel, thinking instead that s/he was a good shot. The fawn walked around the yard, nibbling at this or that. I began to wonder how it had gotten on this side of the fence, but now it seems like one side was for those with physical bodies and the other for those without.

I wondered if the fawn would need someone to take care of it if it was going to make it.

Dream: Subliminal horror

Watching the view at my mom’s house and Joy, Barbara, Cheri and Rosanne Barr came on and Barbara Walters said she liked these days when it was just them. My mom said “Now what does that tell you?” Rosanne sat on Joy’s lap, and she said something. I expected them to cringe from her voice, and Barbara did, asking what happened to her voice, if she was sick or something.

Suddenly instead of Rosanne, it was Norm MacDonald. He said he was an Israeli freedom fighter, and then said he was responsible for this bus incident (it was in a joking manner). They showed a clip and the first time around, I could see in the school bus, and it looked like it was situated on a washed out road, and then a big wave hit it. It looked like there were kids in it when I was looking in the bus, but on the outside camera view it looked abandoned.

The next time around it looked like the bus blew up just before the wave hit, and there was a sudden flash on the screen of a subliminal sort of message. It made me feel flattened and horrified. I couldn’t move, as if great pressure was forced upon me while the subliminal picture was flashed on the screen.

I began to tell my mom to change the channel but they replayed the bus explosion, and my mom said “I can’t believe they’re showing that as a joke, that’s real.” (referring to the explosion itself) and then the subliminal picture flashed again, and again, and each time it showed, I became paralyzed and there was horrible pressure in my head and over my body. I turned away from the screen with my body when I could but I couldn’t look away from the screen. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t, and the message flickered too fast until it was all that was on the screen.

I woke myself up, heart pounding, because it was a really horrible feeling. The image was very staticky, like it wasn’t tuned in right, but it almost looked like an old photograph of Edgar Cayce. I knew it wasn’t the image that was causing my reaction, but some other sort of energy wave that was being broadcast simultaneously. When I woke up I thought that someone/thing was trying to condition me against Cayce. I felt very shaky and uneasy, like I’d just been in the presence of something I wanted nothing to do with.

Dream: When Kel Attacks

I was with my mom and we went to a store to get some snacks. At some point in it, I remembered I wasn’t going to be careless about what I put into my body anymore and looked around. We went to my cousins’ dad’s house, but my cousins were much younger. There were a lot of people standing in the driveway, mostly in their twenties , so much so that my mom had to park at a weird angle. My mom seemed pretty uncomfortable with all these people just standing around in the driveway.

A guy who seemed a lot like Kel (this is because we watched clips from Good Burger last night) leaned over to my mom’s window and asked if she wanted some Newport 100s in a box, and she said no, but he went inside to look for them anyway. The house he went into isn’t there in real life. It was a two story white house with stairs going up to the second floor, and there was a roof people could sit on halfway down the building. He came back out on the wooden steps, shaking his head in apology, and said they didn’t have any.

“I bet there are condoms though,” I said, kind of jokingly, and the guy said “Oh you know it!” and ran back in the house. He started coming back down the stairs with a bunch of unrolled, inflated condoms dangling from his hand. Someone asked about a water balloon fight, and the guy showed up again with fistfuls of condoms, but this time they were full of water, perilously stretched. I rolled up my window.

That chased off a lot of the people in the driveway, and then I saw my cousins. The house and the excess people weren’t around anymore. Kayla went to play by the shallow ditch, in which many things were swimming around, and I thought I heard her say something about the geese. I thought the geese would be swimming in the ditch, but instead someone put some skinks near the ditch, but when I looked in, I saw these long straight silvery fish.

Then my mom wanted to leave, and started going down the road, but I hadn’t hugged my cousins yet, so she pulled to the side of the road and I hugged Kayla. Then I ran back to the house (it wasn’t far) to find Rachel. She was much younger, with the long curling hair, but she was very thin, not just slender. She looked kind of withered. She didn’t seem that interested in hugging me, as she was doing something else, but I hugged her and picked her up while doing so.

Dream: A short strum of the lute

At a music shop with the ninja. There was a lute hanging against a board with all those little holes in it from which to hang hooks. It was leftmost. I picked it up and tried to strum a C chord, but it sounded out of tune. I strummed it while it hung on the wall too. It looked to be faded wood and a bit messed up.

Dream--FFX-2: The "Perfect Ending"

I was playing ffx-2 to get the perfect ending, but instead of completing episodes, a new scene opened up where I had to press X for like a million times, until the sound of me pressing it stopped. The scene was in a park, and guys (and lasses) in red started to appear, and they were fighting. Children were around, and Yuna started taking the red-clad folk down as if she was a martial arts master (there aren't really “beat em up” classes in FFx-2) Some of them got too close to the camera, and I knocked a dude out with my knee, still pressing x like crazy. I had to set the controller on my knee and tense the muscles in my arm to press it super-fast.

Then I wondered if they were going to make the ending connect to other FFs and thought it was a bad idea if they were going to do that. Suddenly, Tidus walked out of the fog and I heard Yuna gasp. She went to run up to him, followed by a little girl with dark hair wearing a red bandana and white pants and a band about her torso.

Tidus kept running from her, because he had to to protect her. Yuna followed him up onto this bus, and he closed a curtain in front of her, but Yuna pushed through it. The little girl stayed behind. There was a blue gem on a small table, and it looked like there was a room where Tidus slept. It looked like how you might expect a scavenger’s room to look. Odds and ends here and there, a pile of blankets to sleep upon.

Tidus tried to push her away, but Yuna couldn’t leave him. I could feel her confusion and deep hurt. “It’s me,” she said, repeatedly, and Tidus shook his head and said he couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stay. Yuna managed to catch him in her arms, and she tried to look into his eyes. He kept shifting, moving this way, then that way.

“You don’t belong here,” he said. “It’s not safe for you.”

Yuna tried to kiss him, shake him, wake him in some way.

The scene shifted to the little girl sitting outside the curtain, and she could hear Yuna wailing in despair. There were five books on a shelf, and she pushed one and a model train set spread out on this wooden floor. It was actually pretty cool. I thought it looked like the town where you find the thief guy in FF6 (or 3 on snes). She pressed the second book and another thing spread out.

I wondered why the hell the ending of FFX-2 was focusing so much on the little girl, and realized if she pressed the fifth book, Zanarkand would fill the room and Yuna might be able to stay there with Tidus. Rather than have the little girl do it, I reset the game because I knew I hadn’t completed chapters yet. So the scenes sort of repeated themselves, but there was something on the bus with me going around with other people I knew… and Yuna was even more upset and insistent with Tidus, but he didn’t seem to be as avoidant.

He held her lower arms and looked into her face and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He stepped out of the curtain and into the world the little girl had made by pushing another book, which looked like a sort of medieval fairy forest of some kind, and up through a door in a tree. Then everything shifted. I could see in my mind separate from the scene I was watching that Tidus was going to fall down into a great misty cavern, apologizing to someone… “I’m sorry, T….” it was a strange name, but I thought I recognized the scene from another game.

Yuna, the little girl, and Tidus all fell into a pool, and suddenly the little girl couldn’t breathe underwater like everyone else in the FFX world. Tidus and Yuna became little kids, and they swam up and breathed into her lungs. The little girl figured out how to breathe, and they swam around playing for a little while before Tidus resumed his former form. Yuna didn’t want him to go, but he had to.

He became his usual form, and here the dream became exquisite CG. Flowing fabrics, wind ruffling hair, etc. He walked away into the mist they seemed to now be suspended in instead of water, and when he glanced back, his form shifted again. He became large, tall and muscular and his skin was dark brown, but still wearing weird Tidus clothes. He looked back, and his face was creased, his eyes black. He couldn’t smile anymore, as his mouth seemed to have become that of a demon of some sort. He shifted again into a more twisted being, and I understood somehow that he was a sort of daimon prince, part of a world that Yuna couldn’t understand. It wasn’t that he was evil, he was just beyond the physical world. He kept looking back to her, although he kept shifting, and finally he took on a form that had wings, wavering dark (kind of like the Batman symbol in the Dark Knight—and I thought cool, and this game was made before the movie!) and consumed the entire scene.

Yuna seemed to understand now why she couldn’t follow him.

And then the scene ended. A bunch of mini games began to show up, and as many percentage points as I’d unlocked were as many areas in the mini games I was able to play. There was a sort of go-kart racing game, some card games, various other things, and I hit circle until I could go back to the scene.

Tidus stepped from a door in the tree to the medieval forest. It looked more mangaish, like FFIX, and all these big eyed little creatures (with a far lower polygon count than before) seemed pleased to have him back. “Was it scary?” a little being asked, and Tidus shook his head. He too was in lower polygonal form, and his eyes seemed bigger as well.

“It was wonderful,” he said. He was taller than all of them, and his form began to shift. I thought to myself if he turned into Zidane from FFIX, I would be peeved. Instead, he just walked off with them, his form wavering.

Funny thing is, I didn’t even play FFX-2 yesteday.

Dream: Wade in the Water

I was wading in Lake Superior, out to a boat or plane. I was alone, and the light seemed strange and diffuse. The sand was quite a dark gold color, and I remember wading amongst other people and realizing many of them were standing in the water a long way out, and I realized I could wade that far out too. I was doing this to go home to Saginaw.

There was something with the plane—like it was stuck in the sand amidst the shallow waters, and had been abandoned. It seemed like someone was living in it, and in it was this guy who seemed to be about my age (maybe a little younger; I’m probably getting to a point where I think I’m younger than I actually am (haha)). It seemed like there was an abandoned boat out in the water too, and we were going to drift out to check out the boat. Somehow it seemed like I went from shoreline to shoreline until I got to my mom’s.

I made it to my aunt’s somehow, and my cousins were being silly in a good way. We were calling each other although we were in the same room. And then the stinging began. My hands were full of little raised bumps, worse on my right hand than my left. They stung and itched but if I scratched them they burned and oozed. On my left hand the bumps were tiny, like grains of sand, mostly around my knuckles and spreading down my fingers for a knuckle joint or so. On the right, the bumps were bigger and profuse, clustering together. They looked more like warts, although there were also the small ones about. I also got a few on my left torso.

I remembered having them before, also from trips where I had been in the water, and I felt surprised that I’d never figured it out before, as it seemed pretty obvious. I wondered if it was perhaps from the power plants in Marquette. I also had a few plants that were planted in sand, and they seemed to be getting out to a mediocre start. I wondered if the soil was right for them.

Things began to be explained to me, by someone who seemed to be male, although I can’t remember because it seemed like I was on the verge of waking and sleep. The bumps were described as electromagnetic wounds.

Interpretation:

-Water is a symbol of spirit. The shallow water represents the depth of my recent mindfulness.

-Stranded aircraft is symbolic of the spiritual journey, stalled but used as a shelter

-“Home” here is symbolic of returning to where I belong, and the silly phone calling while we’re in the same room is like using words when mere presence is enough.

-Electromagnetic wounds come from a misaligned energy field

Dream--Tests even when unconscious

I was taking a multiple choice test (on my laptop) with ridiculous questions and answers, such as: If one had a knife, shield and some other things, what kind of kit would it be part of? The answers were welder/maybe wielder, hobbyist, warrior, something else, and I clicked on the most ridiculous answer in the group, the one I don’t remember. I realized I was supposed to be taking the test seriously. At the bottom of the screen was a 10/15 that changed whenever I answered a question, but it seemed as though if I got any wrong, I could retake it until I got them all right.

In another part I was in a tall building, and even on the top floor there were buildings that were even higher. To the middle right of the window was a building with rooms that were walled in glass, clear so I could see right inside. In the penthouse was an older gentleman who came up to the window to look out over the city. Behind his building, there were two taller white buildings, and I said “look at those, they’re even taller!” I was glad to be in a place where I could see so much, and wondered how people ever got used to it.

Dream: Frank Black must have the best tent.

I watched more Millennium again. Obviously.) Frank Black, portrayed by Lance Henriksen, was looking at tents. There was a long row of tents, about a dozen, all set up in a line, and I think there was another line of tents facing the first. It seemed like there was a display placard set up to either side, facing each other, so to read the words on them, you’d have to be pretty much in the entrance of the tent. Rather than information about the tents, however, there were notes written by Frank, in what seemed to be a consecutive series of journal entries, and they were read by his voice in the background rather than by him in the present.

It seemed that he was going to go on a camping trip, and Frank really wanted to impress a woman with his tent. Yes, seriously. Some of the lines said things like “I must have the best tent,” and others described what attributes he wanted the perfect tent to be, such as: “the perfect tent is one you have to duck your head to get into but stand straight once inside.” It seemed to me that he had bought and set up all of these tents in his basement—he was just trying to select which was the best to bring on the trip. It was incredibly important to him to pick the right tent, and I kind of wondered in the dream if Frank had lost it.

The Letter of the Day is "R"

I was in a yoga sort of class, and Dr. Sautter (NMU’s yoga instructor) was reading from an old Yogic text and said that if one could shape one’s legs to form the letter “R,” their body would become relaxed and rejuvenated. I could see in my mind how to accomplish this, and rolled to my side and arranged my legs so that they indeed formed the letter “R.” I laid on my side facing the left, and brought the left leg up into the top enclosed place, and used my bottom leg to act as the bottom outward leg. Somehow the top was equal with my head, and I had the lower portion of one leg beneath me, folded. I was wearing boxer shorts and socks that were somehow black when they were used as part of the “R” formation and white when they weren’t. My legs were also white when not in formation, and black when they were, but it seemed like a black rectangle formed around them when in the R pose.

Dr. Sautter seemed impressed by the positioning of my legs (and yes, in reality, to do what was done in the dream is not possible without three or four legs) and looked at the top triangle my legs formed. “That’s a 120 degree (something) triangle, isn’t it?” she asked.

I felt bothered that I didn’t know what she meant, and remembered that all triangles had angles that added up to 180 degrees, so maybe she was just talking about one angle, but none seemed extreme enough to be 120 degrees on its own. I said I didn’t know, it had just taken whatever shape because of how tightly my leg was bent. She asked if my leg was bent tightly, and I looked at it (it seemed like I was somehow sitting up) and I didn’t feel like answering because the question wasn’t too useful. I wasn’t holding it tightly, if that’s what she was asking.

She said okay, you’re going to show everyone, then.

Then I was in a church so grand it seems like it should be called a cathedral, and it had two aisles for people to walk up rather than just one down the middle. The aisles were crowded with people all approaching the altar to drop to one knee, cross themselves, and return to their seats. “Cross yourself for your art,” a minister said, or something similar to that, perhaps as a dedication of the art or work we do in life?

I followed them up and saw that instead of having an altar with a high back like the altar I am used to seeing (I went to a beautiful German immigrant built church as a child, and we had a huge figure of the resurrected, enrobed Christ standing above it, his pierced hands outspread), theirs was just a table with a cloth over it, but if you approached the altar and looked up, you saw a cross fitted up in a space behind a wall that blocked your view from the congregation in the pews. The cross glowed as it was lit from behind. I thought it was a bit tacky and ridiculous, and I didn’t cross myself in the proper fashion, purposefully using my thumb to touch my right shoulder to make the symbol meaningless upon me. Perhaps if the symbol used was one of life, like a rock rolled from the opened and empty tomb, or a fisher’s net, important not because it represents the fisher of men but because it interconnects every knot with another knot in the web of the world, rather than one of suffering and death, I wouldn’t have so. Really, the whole “Jesus died for your sins,” argument never made sense to me, and I’ve pretty much always rejected it. Besides, it doesn’t seem like a useful thing to focus on. I thought the whole point of his death was so he could arise from it, showing his followers that we are eternal and there was no need to spend one’s life fearing the end of it. But I digress.

After the church scene, I was in a building where I knew I was about to show the “form your legs into the letter ‘R’” trick to the country. I was changing my shirt, but I put on the wrong shirt, putting on a chemise rather than putting on a T-shirt. It was my old Tool T-shirt, with a spirograph sort of design with the Alex Grey eyes someplace on the lines. I figured it was better to wear, and more interesting to look at, since I was going to turn my face to the floor while in the R position, not caring to be recognized on television, but wanting someone to think “whoa, that design is nifty. Who did that?” a sort of free advertising for Alex Grey. I ended up putting the shirt on over the chemise, which was hot and uncomfortable because I was still wearing a bra under the chemise, and I thought it’s all right if they wait for me, and took of my shirts to get it right, so I was wearing just a bra and the Tool shirt.

This seemed to be taking place in the bedroom in my grandparents’ old trailer. Someone was living there, as there was a messed up bed. It seemed to be one of the women I remembered passing in the living room on my way into the room. Outside of the room during my shirt changing, I was overhearing a young man and woman talking in the hallway. I don’t remember what they were talking about but I kept waiting for them to comment about how long I was taking. It seemed like I was interlaced into three situations at that time: 1. changing my shirt, 2. Talking to people about how if I was supposed to sing in front of a million people, I’d rather choke and not sing at all rather than perform as I was expected, and 3., watching a television commercial for a western miniseries called “Mother,” where some violence had been wrought around a small town out in the West, where it seemed to be dim and cold often. One of the images in the trailer was a little girl, face smeared with dirt, seeming to be dead in a screaming woman’s arms. There were also a few other children running about in the commercial, but the commercial repeated two or three times while the scene where I was changing my shirt was playing. Such interlacing is pretty common in my dreams, although I don’t always write them in that way, and I wonder how many other people have the same experience.

I finally went out into the living room, which seemed to be the long living/dining room from Niki’s childhood home rather than the living room from my grandparents’ trailer. I recognized the first couple instrumental bars of the Sting song “the shape of my heart” repeating in the background, which I thought was relevant only because I would be demonstrating the shape of the letter R. Two women were sitting on the floor, trying to stretch and limber up. They didn’t seem to be particularly flexible, and I worried they would not be able to imitate the pose.

It seemed like one of them seemed pretty tight in the hips, and she couldn’t meet her feet in front of her without leaning back. “If you can’t do that, do this,” the other woman said to her, and showed her a spine twist.

“You really suck at this,” the unflexible woman said to the other.

I set my bookbag down, moving it out of the way, wondering where the cameras were hidden, because I knew they had to be there because we were going to broadcast live to the nation. I was glad I wasn’t late, and looked around waiting for Dr. Sautter to arrive.

To carry a frozen Garfield

At first I was watching other people’s computer screens from my own computer, but then it became apparent that I was watching from inside people’s heads who were looking at their computer screens, because I began to see hands come up to faces, or the scene would shift away from the computer. I could somehow do this online, and I watched Niki watch a show on her screen that at first I wasn’t sure about, then I saw the actor who played Alan Quartermaine on General Hospital. Then I realized I was getting internet at my apartment, and that was pretty cool. MSN messenger was up and I noticed Niki’s name was displayed in symbols that at first I couldn’t understand, then I realized they were shaped like the letters of Niki’s name. The screen was pretty foggy/staticky until I moved into people’s heads, then the screens cleared up quite a bit.

I could also see a former high school teacher’s screen, which wasn’t too interesting. Then I was somehow at a public area, like an outside cafe, and I saw a dude I used to know and somewhat wished to avoid, so I ducked behind my laptop screen until he passed. It didn’t quite look exactly right, but it seemed like it was the right person.

Then, somehow (and this might have been another dream), I was inside a gated community carrying Cuddles and Isis (former cat companions, both black) and I was walking with someone who seemed to be carrying Toby (the newest of the Moma’s brood). Someone else was carrying a large whitish cat who seemed to have orange tips to each strand of its fur. It was rather strange looking, and it was a –really- furry cat.

We were there to pick up a frozen Garfield and bring it to people outside of the community. It felt cold, so I changed the way I was carrying the cats, to better share my body heat with them, and they weren’t reacting like they usually would to the way they were being carried. I set the cats down to pick up the Garfield, which seemed to be a real cat who had been frozen, because I picked it up by the leg and it felt like a real leg, with the bones within its skin, and I hoped it wouldn’t break, but it seemed to be a toy as well, like the ones my cousin Kayla had when she was little, but it was frozen, as if it had been moistened and put in a freezer. I think it was my mom who was carrying Toby at this point, and she picked up Cuddles too, so I only had to carry Isis and this frozen Garfield.

On the way out, there were motion detectors that turned on lights, but it didn’t last long. The gates opened when we stood before them, which I thought wasn’t a useful security precaution at all if they just worked for everyone, and waiting outside the road was a person to whom the Garfield was to be delivered. I saw Toby running along the road and saw a minivan coming, so I called for him so he would come quickly, but the van slowed and turned into a driveway across the street without using its blinker.

Interpretation (11:11 am): So the frozen Garfield probably seems really weird, but I think it’s a reference to the fact that Isis’ body is still frozen in my mother’s freezer. I don’t know what the cats themselves represent, but they are all cats I really love and had an instant connection with. I’m definitely a cat person, and it seems right around when we’ve lost cats, another has come very quickly to us. The longest my mom has been without a cat since I’ve been born was maybe a month or so, and that was when I was three or four and we found our cat Big Eyes on the highway. I thought it was really weird that I couldn’t cry for him, but I didn’t cry for any animal’s death, even teeny kittens, until Isis died in February, and my mom and I both cried more for her than we did for her mother. There are times when I still cry about Isis, like now (I even cried about her death when she was a kitten ten years ago because I had become so attached to her so quickly), but I only cried twice for my grandmother. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her, I just didn’t feel her loss the way I do Izzy’s. Isis and Cuddles have been the cats that have visited me after their passing. Honestly, I still get teary sometimes thinking about Steve Irwin’s death, and I couldn’t tell you why. Maybe because he was a sorely needed champion of the planet, and had two young children and a wife who was deeply in love with him. Maybe because he was a truly lovely person who lived his dream although it would take him to an inevitable early end.

Grief is a strange feeling, and I’m not sure why I grieve for who I do, and don’t grieve for those I don’t. For some people it seems okay that they’ve left their bodies, like my grandfather, who didn’t really seem to care to be alive anymore after my grandmother’s passing. It seemed like a joyful occasion to me because he was finally free (and I was actually quite envious of him at the time). It was then that I realized people grieve for themselves. If I see a dead person in my dreams, I don’t hesitate to notify them that they’re dead, but when a cat shows up in my dreams, I’m just glad to see them.

Ain't Afraid to Dye

Last night I had a dream there were some girls hanging out in my apartment and there was some hair color fest seeming to be occurring in my living room. The colors of dye came in little packets with a sort of silicone spout in the tip. I didn’t seem to be partaking, but I was trying to clean up after it to make sure dye didn’t get all over the floor or carpet. A Dir en grey song, “Ain’t Afraid to Die” (oh wait, I just got the pun—Ain’t afraid to DYE. Ha.) was playing on the television and there were karaoke subtitles with the bouncing ball over the syllables, but I was the only one who knew the song and notes to sing. Also, the song started to lapse into Japanified English words, like “ringu ovu saturun.”

I started having a conversation in my head with an Australian person who seemed to want to hide that he was Australian, preferring to speak as British as possible, but he was making it difficult for me to take him seriously.

There was something about a purple bit of dye and there was a girl who had a kerchief that had “purple crew” painted on it in gold letters, but she was missing. We weren’t sure where she went, but it didn’t seem like a big deal.

Millennium: A Lost Episode

I think Millennium got into my brainzors.

At first, I was walking with the ninja to a food pantry, where we could just take a bag and fill it with whatever we wished from the pantry for free, as long as we wrote down what we were taking. There was this blueberry bread that seemed like it would be good, so I got it, and the ninja and I walked home. It seemed to be where the library parking lot would be, and we had to go uphill rather steeply to get to our apartment. I remembered what used to be there but figured the food pantry wouldn’t last that long. It looked like a dimly lit wooden room, like an old general store of some kind.

Then it seemed like I was no longer with the ninja (maybe another dream?) but working to catch someone with Frank Black and Lara Means (Millennium characters). I figured I could have tossed one of my shirts in his laundry with a wire attached to pick up his conversations because we had the same uniform at work, but now he was working at the Casa Calabria in Marquette. I seemed to care for the killer quite a bit, but I still wanted him caught and stopped, as I was aware I was a likely next target since he seemed to like me. I sat at a table with Christina and Soozin while Frank and Lara pretended to be normal customers having dinner together. I seemed to have a wire on, and the killer, who was this tallish sort of young looking blond dude, touched my shoulder as he passed, as a sort of constant confirmation of his affection.

There was also a conversation with Lara—in the bathroom of the restaurant, where an angel appeared and she was surprised that I could sense it too, although I couldn’t see it the way she could.

I knew the killer had worked out a sexual ritual, and he cared about the girl he’d killed, who it seemed I found in her dorm room. He’d wait until he was going to orgasm and then he would kill her so that his mind could ride into the other side with her. I knew that this didn’t work last time because Leslie, the dead girl, was still in the room when I found her, filling the room with light, as she had been an angelic soul in a human body. He’d learned from this mistake and thought that he must get his sacrifice to orgasm as well so that she would be carried to a higher state of bliss at death, rather than knowing that she had just been killed and hang around the area.

I had volunteered to help catch him, and had set up my dorm room with cameras so that the Millennium people could keep an eye on everything and intervene at the right moment to catch the killer. However, I was also an angelic soul, which the killer seemed to be able to sense, but I could transmit a feeling of bliss with a touch and a bit of concentration. When the killer dude brought out the knife, I simply touched his heart and shared the joy and awareness of divinity I felt with him, and he let me take the knife away, just sitting there stunned in the enormity of this bliss. The Millennium people came in and took him, and then the scene shifted to a conversation with Frank in the room overlooking the interrogation room, behind the mirror. Frank wondered what I’d done, so I shared a bit of the feeling with him, but not too much to debilitate him in the way the killer still was.

I probably could have written it as an episode of Millennium, because it kind of played that way, or could have if my memories of finding the girl hadn’t come later in the dream.

Lizards in Michigan?

I was at my mom’s house and my aunt lived to the north of her rather than to the south. The houses were different, like they were before their current neighbor moved in, and there wasn’t a fence separating the back yards. The neighbor on the other side of my aunt in real life, Larry (who has lived there since before I was born, and is probably in his 70s or so), drove his van (he’s had a van parked in his back yard for a good 20-30 years) through the back yards rather than walking. He leaned against a fence that separated the back yard from the ditch on the ditch side, and we were sitting around on the grass when I saw this really cool lizard climbing the fence. I waited until there was a break in the conversation and pointed it out, thinking it was really cool to have a lizard in the area.

Larry, with a laugh of delight, grabbed the lizard by the tail, and as I jumped forward at him to stop him (thinking that the lizard would lose its tail), he held the lizard/salamander (I thought of it as a salamander, but it had scales) in his hand and flicked it repeatedly very hard. It squealed, and somewhere in my thoughts I knew that they usually don’t make such noises. I was immediately very angry and calculated the proportionate pain he had dealt to the salamander, figuring that my punches would not be enough. I kicked Larry numerous times, much to the dismay and horror of my mom and aunt. The salamander got away, and seemed to be shouting at Larry as it did.

He started to demand what the hell was wrong with me, and I asked the same to him. What right did he have to deliberately injure a small helpless being? (yes, I see the hypocrisy in my asking) We started to argue and he muttered something about how without looking out for the self, my family had no sort of inheritance. I asked what about the inheritance of respect and love for other beings, and he used my kicking him (it hadn’t been hard enough to really hurt him, or so it seemed later) as an example of how I hadn’t learned anything. I was very frustrated and upset, wondering how this heartless being could take delight in the harming of other beings. He had gotten up while we argued, and I struck him hard in the sternum. Larry stopped cold and fell forward on the ground. I knew I’d hit him around the heart, and stunned him.

He still got up, though, and my mom and I went to her house, where two Asian guys were telling her she had to get her stuff out now. I think she was being evicted (that she owned her house wasn’t something that occurred to me in the dream). I was incredulous and asked them again what they’d said, and my mom said it was all right, and inevitable. My mom’s house is quite cluttered and full of things, and we were going to move everything, or as much as we could, to my aunt’s garage. I didn’t understand why they were saying this, but I was trying to understand.

Interpretation:

-Now, it seems like the house was a metaphor for my mind, and if it is true that people of another race represent the subconscious, then my subconscious mind was telling me to clear my mind from clutter and distraction, which I haven’t been doing for a few days, even before the ninja came back.

-The salamander is a fire elemental, and fire is a symbol of the will, which correlates with the solar plexus chakra, or the mind of the third density. The cruelty and self-orientation is a demonstration of self-oriented mind, and to bring the mind to the next level, the heart chakra, would make it difficult to see hurting others as enjoyable, because there is a recognition of unity, compassion and empathy.

Kaboom

A combination of an episode of Millenium, the Dark Knight and Final Fantasy X…. My goodness. It’s epic, and I know I’m not going to get it all.

Frank Black, a woman and I were trying to find a killer that was roaming about on the Black Rocks in Marquette. Little trinkets that were supposed to be clues were strewn about. There was an Orb of Invincibility? No. that’s not right, but there was a small orb that I had that had a mirror on one tiny part of it and it seemed like I was keeping it in my mouth.

There were three keys, a pyramid (clay incense holder that I made) and other things. I realized that these items were just set up to be distractions for us to look for while he set off a bomb.

I am drunk lady from Ukraine!

In this dream, Christina and I were going to a small get together with a couple other chicks were we were all dressed up, wearing wigs and stupid-bright clothing, usually black with some other eye catching color like turquoise, bright pink, red, or violet. We arrived at the place, which looked to be like a rather sedate bar where older people went to self-medicate and ease the pain of a fruitless and difficult life, and one of the ladies we were meeting up with was there, but from behind we didn’t recognize her. We complimented her on her get-up, and I somehow got on a kick of talking like the black haired lady from the new Indiana Jones (a super Ukrainian accent). I was wearing shoes with heels a bit too high to comfortably wear, and I stepped sideways in them and said to the bystanders, “don’t mind, just drunk lady from Ukraine.” This was hilarious.

I and the unnamed girl went to sit at the bar while Christina went in search for the fourth member of our soiree, and I decided I had better write down my dream. Yes, while I was having it. From nowhere, my notebook and a pencil appeared, and I looked at a digital clock or watch and it said 8:66 or something like that, and I looked at it for awhile, knowing it was meant to be a synchronicity, and waited for it to correct itself and say 9:06, which would be the standard interpretation of that time. I started writing down things about being “drunk lady from Ukraine!”

The other girl asked what I was doing, and I said I was writing down my dream because writing them down helped me to remember and interpret them. She seemed to zone out, and I felt my voice trail off, looking around. I realized I could get away with not drinking at all, ever again, and felt rather relieved. I then saw someone with battered and fried pieces of something in a wine glass, and thought that I never had to eat anything fried again either, and was again relieved.

Christina came back with a photo album of pictures from the bar, and they seemed to be pretty well taken. She opened to a page where the first picture was an older guy, kind of balding, looking at the camera unsmiling with a bottle of amber liquid before him. He had a kindly face but didn’t seem as though he quite cared to be photographed.

Next was a picture of the bartender, who was this older Scottish woman I’ve seen in movies before, with white curly hair. She seems like a female Billy Connelly to me. She had posed for the picture, leaning toward the camera in a half “I’ll kick your ass if you mess with my bar” half seductive pose, and I put my finger on the picture and said “Do you know what she’s thinking? She’s thinking ‘I am drunk lady from Ukraine!’” This was also hilarious. Overall I had a faint sense of being uncomfortable in the bar, as if we were intruding and the other girls seemed to look at the people in the bar as quaint locals and part of the atmosphere rather than seeing them as actual people.

Dream--Ignoring meetings with Reza

I was in this group meeting of some sort, and there was a dude there who seemed to be an old love of mine. He reminded me of Reza from Dreamfall, and the situation was somewhat similar, that he was close with the main character but they were no longer romantically involved, though there was still great affection. He was pretty happy to see me, and I was glad to see him, and I sat with him, and he loosely seemed to have his arm around me, keeping me close. It was comfortable. There was a girl around who seemed intent on taking me out. Or something. I think she was the same one who was trying to get me to pack up the belongings of someone who seemed to have to go. She was putting stuff in my canvas bags for someone else to take, and I was a bit bothered by this, but eventually gave up, thinking I could just get another for dollar or so.

Eventually the other girl became somewhat violent toward me, and she had this metal pen—it was one I had from my grandmother after her death, and I showed her how to take it apart, even though she was intent on getting the ink nib to come out so she could stab me with it. I’m not sure if I struck her or anything, but she hit me in the head with the pen several times, but there was no pain. It seemed like she was jealous of my closeness with the Reza-ish character.

All this was taking place in a huge building, white, well lit and full of skylights, kind of like how one would expect a mall to look—though I’ve never been in a mall like it, with a large ground floor and a ring of walkways on the second floor. I’ve had a few dreams of being in malls like that, come to think of it, and that’s how the mall was set up in Silent Hill 2 (the dreams were before I played the game, btw). After a fiasco of some sort involving the violent girl, I went to a meeting where the Reza-ish character would be, and as usual, he was tucked back in a corner on a desktop PC of some sort, and I sat in a chair next to him, the chairs being drawn directly beside one another so that we appeared to be huddling together.

When I woke up, I thought he was the ninja, except that I remembered some kind of thought process going on in my head apart from the dream but about the dream, and in the dream I’d thought he was kind of like Reza.

Waking induced Lucid Dreams: Say it with me, "Hells yeah."

SO, after the awesomeness of having the book about OBE’s pretty much pushed at me, I read about half of it last night—but the first half was all about experiences that people had. After waking up and logging my sleeping dreams, I laid back down and relaxed, hoping to initiate an OBE of my own. While I’m not sure about that, I did somehow manage to hang on to my consciousness as my body dropped back and back and back into sleep.

I asked for the vibrational state to happen—where one’s body begins to hum, on the edge of waking and sleep, and heard whispering. I heard a particular voice, and it sounded a bit distorted, as if it was coming to me through something with a particular shape that gave it a echo-ey resonance. Male, female, I’m not sure. It said, “Is she ready?” and then said other things that I think were instructions to me, but might have been directed at others.

While I don’t think I had an out of body experience, I did have lucid dreams induced from a waking state, and that is pretty freakin awesome. I did use a few things from the book from people’s experiences with OBE’s, namely, asking for clarity, and keeping calm when I would close my eyes in the dream and have to figure out how to open my eyes again without doing it physically, because that would wake me up.

A strange thing about the lucid dreams was how real everything felt. I walked around my mom’s house, knowing that my eyes were closed, but I could see everything clearly, but a bit differently, like the patterns on the floor were shimmering and shifting, but I physically felt myself walking, touching walls.

In another, the one I remember the best, there was a boy, maybe 12-14, sitting on top of a church. When I called to him, he took off, so I climbed the building and often had to edge myself sideways, marveling at the feel of the red stone and brick that the church was made of and how balanced I was with only an inch or two of anything to hang onto. I got to the rooftop, which was a really neat roof, covered with stones and grasses, more like it was a hilltop than a church roof.

There was nothing to hang onto, so I lifted one of the flat stones up to hold onto what was beneath it. I reached my hand down into a crevice and my hand touched a stick broken from a tree and it felt absolutely real. I looked at the stick for a moment, turning it over in my hand, amazed at how real it felt. I figured I was ready to try to fly, because I’d been doubting if I could get myself to do it, and my feet left the edge they were upon and my body ended up flipping in the air because I hadn’t let go with my hands. There was an acolyte’s… thingy there. The one I used as an acolyte was a long rod, and one side has an empty brass bell on it for snuffing candles, and the other side has a long tube through which a wick is run so that the wick can be lit to light candles that are high up. This wasn’t the whole rod though, it was just the end of it, and this one was silver, tarnished black.

I found an area to get inside the highest part of the building, and the kid was hiding there, in this haphazard wooden room, unfinished and warm. He looked different, and I saw a side by side photo comparison of him with blonde hair and him with light brown hair. He was much older with the darker hair than I initially thought, and seemed to think we were playing hide and seek of some sort. He grinned and climbed out of the place. I followed him but I’m not sure if I caught up to him again.

A few times my cell phone, with its dying battery, beeped, and I would jump back into awareness of my physical body. I also lost conscious awareness a couple times, so things aren’t as clear in my memory as they were earlier, so I am forgetting some things. I probably spent a good two hours in a lucid dreaming state. I remember everything in my vision spinning, and I was trying to look around while I was spinning to see what was around, but I don’t recall.

One issue about the lucid dreaming is that while I’m aware that I am dreaming, I don’t have the awareness that I can readily shape the world around me and go anywhere I want. Instead I seem to find myself in a situation and I play through it rather than go create or explore my own little wonderland. In any event, this is freaking AWESOME. I can’t remember what book I read that had it, but Waking Induced Lucid Dreams—or WILDs were things I never thought I’d be able to experience. I can imagine myself spending days just lying around lucid dreaming.

But OBEs are definitely the goal of the moment. It may take a few months, but I’ll get it eventually.

Dreams--Goddard and cereal, Now with insects!

Night before last: Woke up remembering energy of some type being channeled in a sort of infinity loop. It was being explained to me that when it hit the bottom it would bounce back up, so there were two flows of energy, a doubling back (an echo of waking up the other day to someone saying "The flux capacitor has to double back on itself to stabilize."). This took place in a pale blue room, and someone was explaining to me that Goddard had figured this out. I woke up thinking "Goddard? The rocket inventor?" and then thought how the hell do I remember that anyway?

Last night's dream: I was eating granola-ish cereal out of the box, and was mulling over an almond or something with my teeth while reading the ingredients to make certain there weren't any objectionable ingredients in the cereal. "mm hmm, bran flakes, corn syrup, insects, raisins--Insects?" I spit out my chewage, looking at it very closely, trying to make sure I didn't inadvertently chomp some grasshopper leg or something. I was trying to imagine what insects they'd use, then checked the other flavor of cereal in the grocery bag to see if it had insects too, but it had whey anyway. Boo.

Periodic Table of People

The periodic table of elements contained people, and it wasn’t like “har har, Molly Bdenum, I get it” but it was sort of like a set up of windows or screens through which people could be seen with various attributes listed.

Also something with a little girl with a teddy bear in a building, but the teddy bear is alive somehow

“Such is the life of a child of God in the kingdom of Earth…”

About a month ago, I had a dream that I was watching my old roommate Pamma try to make her way somewhere by plane. It would have been a short enough trip, but for some reason, she kept getting rerouted and ended up flying all over the country. I saw a map with a travelling red line, Indiana Jones style, bouncing from Austin, Texas to Washington D.C, to New York and so on. And quite clearly, I saw that this would happen on July 27^th. Which is today.

Today, I had another dream about watching someone I know travel. This time it was Cait, wandering the streets of a small town in France. With only a backpack, she walked winding streets, sat in outdoor cafés, reading a book, then leaving it at the table for someone else to find. There was no room to carry a book, no room for excess baggage. There was a sort of narrator, and I’m not sure if it was me or a male voice, narrating this in an overly dramatic tone, with sort of melancholy description. She was a traveler walking in a land without knowing the custom, etiquette or language, unable to connect and communicate fully. “Such is the life of a child of God in the kingdom of Earth,” the narrator said, and the camera moved overhead, lifting, until we saw the top of Cait’s head moving through a busy street, and then lost her amongst the people, losing the street in the labyrinthine paths of the town, until the camera turned suddenly upwards, breaking through the blue of the atmosphere and out into the stars.

That was one dream. Another was one in which I was absent, but there was something to do with a metal ball that if it was held in some way, a strange blade would jump out of it, into the hand that held it, kind of Phantasm-esque.

Siblings on a bus

The night before last, I woke with just one thing from a dream going through my mind: “The flux capacitor has to double back on itself to stabilize.” Later in the day, the ninja asked, seemingly out of the blue, what a flux capacitor does, and then last night I woke up and he was talking in his sleep. He said “Two/More brains equal more energy.”

But anyway, my dream. I was with someone and then there were about five kids at a bus stop, and the bus stopped and we all got on. I somehow made it seem like they were my kids so that I would be able to get onto the bus, and there were some bus scenes that I don’t recall. In one of them, one of the kids said “How do people know we’re siblings? Do we even look anything alike?” to which everyone on the bus said “Yes,” and nodded in unison. I studied the siblings’ features, though I don’t remember any of their whole faces. Their noses were rather delicate and small, and slightly turned up. I think they had dark blonde hair for the most part, and I know there was at least one boy and one toddler but I don’t recall the genders of the other children.

Mom and I take a trip to the nursery

I was with my mom at a nursery, and we had gone to the cashier but there was a bit of a line. I looked down and saw that I had gotten a clump of unripened raspberries caught in the laces of my shoe. On second look, I saw that one of the berries seemed to be ripe, so I plucked it off and offered it to my mom. There were more that were ripe if I tipped the bunch back, and I ended up shooing a few bugs away as I did so.

There was a teeny spider on my hand, and I shook my hand a bit and it ended up jumping or getting flung to this standing display or wall or something. I said something like thanks little guy, you looked a bit shiny? I meant that he looked like his bite would pack a little wallop. He was little, golden and the abdomen looked a bit transparent, like he was full of liquid. He didn’t look like a spider I’ve regularly seen.

I think I might have set the raspberry on my mom’s shoulder to get it to her and still have time to shake off the spider. Later in the dream, I was in the produce section of Wal-Mart or Meijer, and I was wearing a red shirt and black pants as if I worked at Meijer. I kept catching glimpses of myself in the mirror and I thought that I was becoming like my mother, and I tried to figure out how I felt about that.

It’s something I’ve always railed against, in that it used to seem to me like my mom didn’t “do much” with her life, in that she’s lived in Saginaw/Zilwaukee her whole life, and while she did take a few college level courses, she didn’t continue with it. And now she’s been working at Meijer, unloading trucks for the last ten years. But it’s enough to do what she’s been doing. It’s enough to have plants and gardens and chickens and ducks and cats and parakeets and guinea pigs, and she doesn’t want to have to work more just so she can have more money. She’d like to win the lottery, but her time is more important to her than money.

And really, I’ve realized that I’m the same way. Working for money has always been something that I just don’t click with. Anytime I’ve worked, I’ve ended up rather enjoying my job (except working at the grill in the mornings) because it gave me time to think and laugh and practice something. True, if I wasn’t being paid I wouldn’t have volunteered for those things, but money wasn’t the only thing I got out of them.

I think the raspberries are kind of like how my mom lives. She has all these things she wishes to do, but she has to wait to do them all, saving up and waiting until her time is ripe. And it’s kind of like me too, except I’m not saving up to do the things I’d like to do. I’m just waiting in a way because it always feels like something big is coming. It doesn’t mean I’m not doing things in the meantime, though.

Dream: Rainbow in the Dark Redux

The ninja and I were alongside a building set upon a hill. It was night, and rather cloudy, and the faint glow of the moon was visible from behind the clouds (in the south). A rainbow split through the clouds and arced across the entire sky, south to north, I believe. There was no dip towards the earth in either case, and I could walk under it and see that it was three-dimensional, like a twisted ribbon rippling in the air. I kept commenting to the ninja about how wonderful it was, and he slipped and nearly fell on the hill’s wet grass. It was drizzling slightly.

I mentioned again how awesome and beautiful it was, and he seemed to be rather frustrated with being there, cold and wet, and people (two girls) appeared in a north facing window of the building (to the south of us) and I made a startled sound that was quite loud.

Dream 3:

I must have been walking around before I looked at myself in the mirror, and I remember talking to my mom right before it, but I was wearing a bright blue wig that looked like it would glow under black lights. It was long, but had two short little pigtails on top. I was also wearing dark bloody red lipstick that was worn off in places, and fake eyelashes. I looked at the lipstick up close and realized that my skin looked very old somehow more textured and not quite as smooth as it usually is. I thought about how I would draw the wig and lipstick for a dream journal, but I wasn’t sure if that’s how it was when I awoke or if I became faintly aware that I was dreaming. I was also wearing this kind of shimmery burgundy vest, with nothing underneath it. I started to unbutton it and pulled off the wig, and my hair was much longer, about midway down my upper arm, and thought about Cloud’s sister and her hair, because it seemed somewhat similar.

In the mirror if I tilted my head a certain way, I could see through the back of my head, reflected on the mirror. I could lift my tongue back into Khechari mudra, and there was a space where I could see this split where the nasal passages met the throat, and when I sniffed, I could feel something cold and metal rising in it. At first I thought I had stuck a pen in the passage, then pulled this metal can from the passage. It looked more like a horseshoe sort of opening.

Dream: Bike in the washing machine

The ninja and I were in my room at my mom’s house. There was a washing machine in the room, and I knew I had put my bicycle in it before to clean it, but I couldn’t figure out how it was supposed to work. I thought I’d have to take the front wheel off or something, and looked at it for a long time trying to figure it out, but when I tried to put it in, it went easily.

I started putting clothes in it as well, realizing only belatedly that the grease from the chain would get all over everything, and pulled out the clothes. Then I wondered why I was doing laundry right now when we were going so soon to the ninja’s mom’s house. I figured the bike was plenty clean by now and took it out of the washing machine. Then the ninja told me Christina had called, so I went to her house. She looked surprised to see me, and said she had called at 9:36. I said she couldn’t have because it was 9:38 now.

She also seemed to have a different apartment. Stuck onto this wall outside the place was a picture of the two of us, each sitting on a chair and looking somewhere other than the camera. My hair was a lot longer in the picture. She had two bathrooms as well, and I was confused about why she’d have two.

Dream: Wooden Labyrinth

I think earlier in the dream I was on a stage, dressed up as a character for this show that I think was being put on for the president. Then it seemed like there was a lock up about to occur, where everyone was going to be captured and/or arrested, so I fled. It seemed like there was some kind of resistance movement that I seemed to be a part of, but I had no memory of planning anything.

I ran through this hallway that was quite dark, and saw a flash from a photograph being taken and thought “now they’ll be able to recognize me.”

The escape route I found looked as though a wooden labyrinthine walkway was built over the water. One was a zip line sort of thing, but instead of rolling on ball bearings, a rope was being pulled, so various explosions were triggered, guns were fired, the walkway below would collapse into the water. The second zipline looked as though it had been used already, and I had to pull the rope all the way loose to the beginning in order to use it. Nets were stretched out over the water, so falling into it was basically an assurance of drowning. It didn’t seem like a feasible escape route for all of the people waiting for me to return.

The last section of this maze that I encountered was a freshly constructed room with trip wires and various cameras set to detect movement. I saw a round of crossbow bolts that were fired using air compression and I used a sheet of plywood to catch the bolts triggered by movement on the cameras. It was taking too long to move in and out of the shot to trigger the bolts so I looked over, saw a digital camera in a case, and closed the lid on the case. The entire “clip” of crossbow bolts were then fired, and I caught them in the plywood.

I didn’t really want to continue past that room because I’d nearly gotten nailed by the automatic weapon trap, and I didn’t have any weapons of my own. I went to pull a couple crossbow bolts from the wood, but they ended up being more like darts than anything. I wondered why they would try to stop someone with darts instead of crossbow bolts, but I kept three of them in my hand in case they’d be useful.

(11:11 am) After I returned from scouting the labyrinth I saw myself on television, a video clip of myself earlier on stage, and realized it was unlikely that I would ever be recognized from the video footage because I had been well padded, had latex apparatuses on my face, a wig, a moustache and a large flannel shirt. I looked like a rounder version of Al from Home Improvement.

In the newspaper, there was a picture I remembered that had been taken when I had first escaped from the theatre area, and I’d hoped I was unrecognizable then, but instead of a picture of me there was a picture of a young black guy who was kind of smiling at the camera, and I could see a part of my own shoulder, but I wasn’t recognizable as the white girl that I am. I wondered if there were other pictures, and that one was released to stir up unrest and mislead the public.

There was something about being on a bus crammed with people as well, perhaps as an escape vehicle? It seems like the crowded aisle was the part that stuck out the most in my mind.

There was also a section where I was walking through the mall or some place with a line of food vendors, and someone I have had many classes with was selling coffee or something, calling out to passerby to try some.

Dream: The bear in the garage

I was in a garage with several doghouses and a bear on a big heavy chain. It was a big brown bear, taller than me by at least a foot, and I was trying to figure out if it was tame enough to be around the dogs. The ninja’s mom’s and sister’s dogs were there, as was the dog I had when I was growing up, Tila, but I couldn’t see her. The bear slobbered my hand, not really biting it but leaving these yellow granules and slobbery bark on it (and now I remember my dream yesterday, one in which profuse yellow mucus poured from my nose and mouth), and while I felt the brush of his teeth, he didn’t seem interested in biting me.

The bear slept on the ground with his paw on Rory, the poodle, and it walked on all four legs, urinating as it walked, and I thought, “is that how they really do that?” I was going to ask it to give me a kiss, to show my aunt (this was in her garage) and my cousins that the bear was pretty tame, although I knew with a swipe of a playful paw I could have broken bones. I didn’t like that it was chained up in the garage.

Dream: CG sword clash a la FFVII

This time the dream was at my aunt’s old house, and it had CG elements, namely, Cloud Strife and Sephiroth from Final Fantasy VII. Cloud in the dream looked awesome (like in Advent Children, a FFVII sequel movie). The detail and texture was beautiful, the way the fabric moved, and his hair moved and it was very well done. Sephiroth, on the other hand, was kind of polygonal (but not as simple as he was in the game), and I knew his face would have been awe-inspiringly beautiful if he had been rendered in the same way Cloud had been.

Anyway, they fought in the driveway and in the road, and Sephiroth threw down his sword, sticking it in the sand in the side of the road. He said something to Cloud but he seemed very sad, and I touched his polygonal sleeve, but he pulled away, and turned away. I was going to remind him about his sword but I knew I wanted to hold it and the person I was with wanted to take it. Cloud seemed to walk away in the other direction, and I picked up Sephiroth’s sword. When Sephiroth held it, it was long and very sharp, but when I held it, it was only about a foot and a half, and didn’t seem sharp at all.

“Oh it’s a (Q-something? Probably meant Karach (karach is a kind of a sword created out of chaos matter in a game called Planescape: Torment that reflects the mindstate of the one holding it))” my associate said, looking disappointed. “Sephiroth channels down the sword and creates it in the way that he uses it.” He picked up a pencil by the side of the road and wrapped it in tissues. “This should trick him into thinking I have it,” he said, and put it in his pocket.

I watched Sephiroth still walking down the road toward the sunset (he was headed west, and Cloud was going east), and wished I could help him somehow.

Dream: The ball again, without Duncan.

There was a dress up party, again, that my cousin Kayla and her “sister” Sarah were going to, but this time I was going along, just because I wanted to be with them, but at the same time, I really, really, did not want to go at all. I was frustrated and upset with everyone around me, particularly my mom, who seemed like she was trying to be helpful but being totally irrational at the same time. Another addition to the frustration was that everyone else knew what was going on but I did not, so I was on edge from trying to figure everything out and no one would just tell me, and I didn’t have the sense in the dream to just let it go.

At first, we were in the kitchen, but it was more like my Great Aunt Deedee’s kitchen instead of my aunt Cath’s, even though it was my aunt Cath’s house (my aunt Deedee died about ten years ago, and the only part of her house I remember is her kitchen, which I didn’t spend much time in). We were discussing the party/event, and I tried to be excited about it even though I really didn’t want to go. I was trying to push myself to be a bit more open to it.

This woman wearing a lavish gown, with her hair finely curled in shining mahogany curls came and handed me this clear plastic bag with what looked like cheaply made kid costumes, one for a Zorro type character and one for a lady. They had specific names. I was really happy there was a dude’s costume because it would be a helluva lot easier and more fun for me to wear pants and a cape than try to get all dolled up. I opened the bag and pulled out the gown first because it was on top, and I was immediately disheartened. Not only did it look flimsy and super cheap, it looked like the only thing it would fit was a doll. “I bet this would fit my arm,” I said, and pulled the bodice of the gown up my forearm. That’s about how big it was.

Luckily for the purposes of having a costume, I had a lavish sort of gown of dark colors, mostly violet, deep blue and perhaps green, which I was not at all looking forward to wearing because dresses are: 1. not comfortable, 2. Not becoming to my football player’s frame, and 3. I’d have to make my face and hair fancy to go along with the fancy shmancy dress, which would only serve to make me feel and look even more ridiculous. I’d look like a drag queen. I was being pressed to leave, and I felt like I needed more time. I said that I just needed ten more minutes and everyone seemed to be looking at me and treating me like I was crazy.

Then my mom and I were driving, and I was frustrated. We were driving and it was dark in the way that it is dark when there’s a big storm but it’s daytime, the sky charcoal black but light still comes through somehow from somewhere. I said the only reason I was going was because Kayla was going and since she didn’t seem to be going there now, I didn’t want to go either. My mom was like “Kayla’s already there!” and sounded particularly angry with me, and I said “oh, okay.”

So, we got to the place where the event was occurring, and I was hoping I would not be expected to drink because then people might see me as a downer, and I didn’t want to have to go through the bother of explaining why I don’t feel like drinking anymore. Kayla and Sarah vanished somewhere and I went into this women’s room to change. It was full of girls in various stages of dressing up, and some of the costumes were very intricate. This was another reason I dreaded this—I could not blend in with them, and knew I couldn’t. I went into a stall and closed the door, then realized it was conjoined with another stall, and suddenly realized there were no real stalls at all, just a labyrinthine maze of walls, toilets, mirrors, girls and crinoline. As I beheld this green-tiled sight, I turned around, opened the door, and left the room.

There was a food preparation area, and that was where I found my mom and my aunt. I figured I could just help them cook and not bother with the party that I had no interest in being a part of any longer. My aunt was making an oreo pie. She removed a crust from its cardboard pan and transferred it to a metal one, and had a bowl full of ingredients. She seemed to be mixing dough, but when she cleared a place off on the cupboard it looked like there was blood on the cutting board, like someone had just cut up raw flesh on it, and I pointed it out to her, but she just pulled a bowl over the blood and moved down a bit.

She poured a measure of oil into the bowl, and the oil threatened to overflow, and I tried to warn her, but she said “I know exactly what I’m doing,” and the oil overflowed into the container of Oreo cookies—the whole container welled with oil. My mom took the cardboard pan and arranged these things that at first glance looked like onion rings, but turned out to be raspberry cookies. She went to throw them away, but I asked what she was doing, and she said she thought these were just being tossed, and I said something about why would she assume instead of just ask someone, and took a few of the cookies out, trying one to see if they were awful. I said they were fine, and my aunt said, “Why don’t you shut your mouth?”

It didn’t hurt my feelings because I knew I was acting out of frustration, and I gave up trying to be helpful or a part of the event at all. Then I awoke.

Dream: The young and the old

I am not sure where to start because I went to sleep after I woke up from having this dream, so the details are a bit sketchy…

There were two groups of people, one of which seemed to be a little more immature and fun than the older more somber people. The younger ones were the kids of the older folk, and again, this took place at my aunt’s house (as an aside, I lived there for the first eight years of my life, but I don’t think that’s why so many of my dreams are there. I spend more time at my aunt’s house than at my mom’s much of the time when I visit).

I met the younger people first, and they had their hideaway where my cousin Rachel’s room was. It was a very busy sort of room, and I had the feeling that it was a two story room, if people climbed down this ladder, they’d get to the storage place. Imagine the younger folks as “Lost Boys” from a cyber punk future. They had a set up of electronics on the south wall that had monitors sensitive to touch, and the audio ran on a different sort of feed. Like you could run a television with a touch screen and run a radio signal through the television too. Then you could selectively mute whatever frequencies you wished to properly tune in to whatever it was that you were trying to tune into. The radio popped up as a square in the t.v., and I accidentally assigned it a frequency that locked in. It was 91.5 or 94.5—or maybe 97.5. I muted the station because I didn’t want to mess up whatever they had going on (it seemed new, as none of the radio frequencies had been established in memory).

I know there was something about a word in four or five letters that might have been displayed on the television. Okko or Okka or Oh.. something (not Osaka). It doesn’t seem that important but when I woke from the dream I repeated it to myself so I could remember.

I went outside and saw the group of older folk, and this older balding guy was sitting on the corner of the back porch, criticizing the younger folk for being messy, telling me I should hang out with them instead rather than the young folk, but I didn’t like his patronizing attitude. He seemed to be the father of one girl in particular, this heavier set blonde chick named Ursula (I think—it’s just the feeling I had). I told him that I had grown up in a chaotic atmosphere, and so the atmosphere of the younger ones didn’t startle me or put me off. Let them be how they are, I thought, and when they want to grow out of their situation, they will. (I think a lot of communication in this dream after leaving the younger group’s area was telepathic or at the very least, wordless.

Then it seemed like there were these two guys who were going to try to actively bring me somewhere else. I think they were going to bring me to the more somber group, but both of the lads who attempted recruitment were young—not as young as the teen-early twenties of the younger group, but about mid-twenties or early thirties.

I went between the houses to talk with my mom on the other side of the fence and the first dude tried to grab me there. The way the houses are, is that there’s about a 12 foot space between the two houses, and then there’s a length of fence aligned with the front of the houses, and then one running between the yards, so the fence is like a T. Somehow I defeated the dude (I think he was in black) and looked at my mom like “okay, everything’s all right.”

My mom made a face like a warning, and then I felt the swish of a broom against my legs. The other guy had poked a broom through the fence (and I thought in the dream that it was odd, considering the bristles and all, but he had a definite disadvantage with his weapon). It didn’t bend my knees or knock me down; I just grabbed the broom and jerked it through to my side of the fence, ducking down to see through the links. I think the fence was covered in vines, honeysuckle and morning glory or some such.

I could see his eye through the fence, and it was light, either grey or blue, and he wore round glasses. He stood, and I am reasonably sure it was a variation of the dude Killian from my last dream. He wore his hair down, and it was long and that gold, dark blond color, but he looked a bit sturdier (wider and taller) than in the previous dream. I recognized him, but not from any prior dreams, and it was as though my perceptions were split.

One set of perceptions had me jabbing him gently in the face with the broom handle. I preferred to knock him in the glasses because they protected his face, although I also hit him in the chin, forehead and cheeks. I wasn’t really trying to damage him, just convince him that it was better to go away. He didn’t seem to mind this. The other set of perceptions went to him and touched his face where I had struck him. On this layer of perceptions, he was smiling at me. This set recognized him and didn’t wish for him to be harmed in any way. I am not sure if these happened simultaneously or if the second happened following the first. Within the second set of perceptions, I held his face in my hands and had the distinct feeling of floating upward (as if I had a brief flash of the two of us lifting up from the ground, higher than the fence) when I woke up.

In which the ninja and I dream similarly.

So my roommate, "the ninja," as I call him, wakes up, showers and all that, and I go into the living room from the room I usually go to when he sleeps and I'm awake. When he finished with whatever, he came in the room and sat down, and said that he'd had a really strange dream.

He was sitting in a theatre with this blonde lady who was sad that he was with me instead of her. I was on the stage, moving props around. He said she was wearing heavy makeup with turquoise eyeshadow, and I thought maybe she was an actress in the play.

I told him about the girl in my dream (the spiral of rooms dream), and he started to describe her more carefully, her face and small nose. I asked if she was sort of thin and shorter than me, and he said she was thin, and went on to describe her hair, blonde with curls, just like in my dream.

Obviously, this is kind of disturbing because it fits perfectly with the reasoning that such a person would just climb into my bed knowing that it was mine. And yet, in the dream she reminded me of a dog, big time, from her eyes to the careful way she climbed into the bed, the way a dog does when it is doing something it knows it will get in trouble for but does it anyway. The ninja had a dream after the one about the blonde lady in which the dog he was close with came and asked where she could sleep, and he pointed to the place between his and my sleeping spaces. Perhaps the lady in our dreams is her!

Also, I looked up "Mark Killian" on Google (I picked Mark because I suddenly remembered a dream I'd had about someone I had a dream I was with) and there was an entry on imdb. Here's another kicker: He has the exact same birthdate as my ex, August 24, 1978. I found a picture, but I am not sure it's the same guy with the birthdate since there were camera person entries and one acting one. The actor didn't look like the dude in my dream, but people who would look like that guy would be pretty rare in today's world.

Anyway... weird, yet freaking awesome! :D

My earliest dream...

Me: Four or five years old. I have a cousin who is three years younger than me and had to spend a great deal of her toddlerhood in a lower body cast due to a malformation of her hips.

The dream: I am hiding behind a table that is set up in my living room, but I am above myself, looking down on the scene. It is one of the few dreams I have had in black and white (weird!) and there is a man there who has turned my cousin into a pair of mittens, the sort that are connected to one another with a string. He unravels her.

The end.

Dream: The Spiral of Rooms and personal boundaries

042308 Dream:

I was in a conglomerate of apartments, my old apartments, my aunt’s house, and someone else’s house that I’d been to before. The living room had a sectional sofa that bordered three walls, with a doorway in the middle of the center wall, and a black and white young cat played there. The door lead to a huge open room that connected with the hallway that opened up in the way my aunt’s kitchen connected to the hallway in her house (I’ll draw a diagram of the place, but I am pretty sure the rooms followed the Golden Spiral). There was an alternate way to get to this hallway, and that was to go through room after room on the outer edge of this spiral.

My cousin Rachel’s room was my room, even though there were two beds in it. I was still living with the ninja but he wasn’t there (I wished in the dream that he had been).

The dream started out with me in the couch room, looking at the couches. They were packed full of people. One of the times I went through the room, I counted at least seven people (including myself). They were couples, hormone driven twenty-somethings, and at first they were cuddling up, watching a movie or something, under blankets and I had the sense it was quieter than it had been before. I noticed the cat playing in the rectangle of dim light from the sofa room (it was brighter than it sounds). I decided I was going to go to bed, so I took the long path through rooms I think I’ve seen before in dreams (it always feels like that) and got to the hallway where my room was. I realized I could have taken the shortcut through the large room with the playing cat. I watched it jumping around playing with something I couldn’t see, and the flickering light from the television set (I never saw the T.V., actually, and come to think of it, there were no windows anywhere).

I opened the door, and saw a dark hump in my bed. Someone was sleeping in my bed. I left the room, quiet, and closed the door, and thought of what to do. I figured I could go slump into one of the living room chairs, but when I got back to the sofa room (again taking the long route), the couples had progressed into alternately sleeping and orally pleasing one another. One of the dudes noticed that I’d come into the room, and he pulled the blanket over his chick’s nakedness, but I again left quickly.

I went into my room, and now I was kind of annoyed that I’d been displaced, and it hardened my resolve. The person sleeping there was under the covers and was turned away, so I touched the person’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. It wasn’t enough. I shook a little harder, and asked “who are you, and why are you in my room, in my bed?” He rolled over, and looked at me with a big smile, then got up. “I’m Killian,” he said. He had glasses, and long, long curling gold hair, that deep vibrant blondish hue. I had the sense that he was wearing a long black peacoat and that he should be wearing a hat to go with it (thinking about it now) but he could have very well been wearing something else. I have the feeling that he was waiting for me (now, looking back), and he looked at me like he knew me, and was saying things I can’t remember anymore, but they seemed like jumbled schizo ramblings, which means I really should listen and try to remember.

I’ve never had such a string of meeting people in my dreams, remembering their faces, and have them say so much to me that I dismiss within the dream but want to know when I wake up. Anyway, he said everything on his way out of the room, and I went to close the door but couldn’t. Not that I physically tried to, but everything in me told me to go find Killian. So I left the room, closing the door behind me, and ran through the middle room where the cat played, running on the balls of my feet. I dashed through the sofa room, straight through to the outer spiral of rooms, running through them, hoping to catch him before he left. I couldn’t find him.

So I started to go back to my room, but I started closing and locking doors as I went. I started thinking that there were apartments within this circle-spiral of rooms, and that I was going to close mine off so more sleepy people didn’t come wandering into my room. One door was white with bronze colored fixtures, and the outer edges of the door stuck out further than the interior, which was slightly recessed. I thought that it might not be terribly sturdy.

When I finally got back to my room, a blonde girl was there, and she was standing in the room, quiet. She looked at me with mournful eyes (like a puppy) and lifted the covers to get into my bed.

“Hey,” I said. “This is my room, and that’s my bed. I know you’re sleepy, but I was just about to go to bed…” Seeming to ignore me, she climbed in, pulling the covers around herself. I looked at the other bed, which I could sleep on, but now I was frustrated by the constant lack of consideration I felt I was being shown, first people in my house, people doing each other on my couch, dude sleeping in my room, now this chick who didn’t have the decency to leave when I tell her that this is my room, my bed?

“Hey,” I said, and shook her shoulder. If she fell asleep, I wasn’t sure I could be mean enough to wake her again. She rolled away from my hand, and now I was pissed. I went to the foot of the bed and grabbed the wooden board. “This is my bed!” I said, and picked up the foot of the bed, then slammed it against the floor. I went on a shouting spree, saying this is my bed, my house, people had no consideration, she was being rude to me for no reason when I was letting everyone stay in my house, I just wanted to go to sleep, please, etc.

After what seemed like a few minutes of cathartic bed slamming (and it felt really good to shout and let it all out), the girl got up, still silent with the forlorn expression, and looked at the other bed. I apologized to her and said I wasn’t usually like that, but it was my bed, and I was very tired and frustrated, and I was willing to listen to her when I could actually stay awake to do so. I was going to offer her the other bed after so rudely removing her from mine, but she started out the door. I didn’t follow her, I just looked for a way to lock the door. I was sure there was a hook and eye thing on the door, but they looked like two eyes. I pulled on one and the chain seemed to pull out from where I don’t know. It was a strange chain set up (this is the second dream with a chain that didn’t work how it was supposed to) with safety pins and necklace chains, quite unreliable, and it ended up being really long. I figured I could MacGyver something that would hold, and I finally got it situated where it would be strongest and where I might be able to actually get some undisturbed sleep.

My interpretation of this is not only do I feel separate from the people in the living room, but I’ve been blocking out messages as if they were intrusions in dreams, from the hooded cult guy to this Killian. I even had a second chance within this same dream, but I was too lost in my preoccupation with feeling intruded upon and trying to stick up for myself and set boundaries to let anything else in, seeing how silent the girl was. I knew that the house was set in a sort of golden spiral within the dream somehow too, which, if I’d been thinking clearly instead of out of the programming in my subconscious, I might have taken notice.

I think a lot of this dream is, in fact, my thinking that I really do need to set boundaries with people. In the past I’ve been really open and sharing with people as far as with my apartment and finances have been, and in two cases, I ended up not only wiping out my bank account and getting abandoned with a 600 dollar a month lease, and in another case, about 400 dollars worth of video games and movies of my and the ninja’s stuff was stolen by the person I was letting stay there! I had a bad feeling about several things leading to this, one of which was getting the apartment because it was 600 dollars a month, and the other being the dude himself, who gave me a horrible feeling in my stomach, but I really, really needed a roommate, and a ton of people had looked at the place and no one called back.

I’ve been working on this balance between just being open, really open, and generous and actually preventing myself some “harm” because of this, trying to bring a tempering of wisdom to that unconditional love.

Another part of this dream is showing me that the subjects my conscious mind has been preoccupied with hasn’t yet stuck with my subconscious programming, and my subconscious mind is letting me know that by going overboard with the boundaries thing, I’m shutting out stuff I don’t need to be shutting out. I could have slept in that other bed in my room and shared my personal space with strangers that were just looking for a place to sleep. They weren’t rude or anything, just kind and reserved people.

Hmm I shouted two days in a row in my dreams. Wonder what that’s all about (the throat chakra sure was pulsing in my meditation last night, though).