This dream started with me doing what I like best: running. Specifically, running easy down a long hill on a little road, in some little town of upstate New York.

What a nice dream, right? Not for long...

I run past a house. In the driveway, a car is idling. Not parked, idling. Nobody is in the car. As I run past, it pops into gear and starts to roll onto the road. In a heroic act to save some stranger's property, I grab it by the bumper, but can't hold it very well, as it is still running. It and I fight our way down the hill while I try to figure out how to get in and shut the confounded thing off without it running away. In the end, it ends up wrecked in a mudpile at the bottom of the hill, and I am as beaten up as the car is.

An officer of the law arrives. This is the man you don't want on your case. He immediately assumes I've stolen the car, taken it out for a joyride or whatever, and wrecked it. I try to explain, but to my incredulity he interrupts me and proceeds to continually abuse me all the way back home (I'm not sure how I get there).

Back at home, the officer is still there, telling me how he'll send me up for grand theft auto, and how I'll be repaid for my evil with a permanent criminal record for the rest of my life, and I'll never pay of the remunerations. Not only will he not listen to me, he forces me to listen to his wisecracks and dumb jokes at my expense. Finally, I can only take so much--I am in emotional distress and ready to burst. Utterly out of control, I slam this officer against the wall, notice how short he is, and scream a long ranting protest of innocence at him. Rather than gunning me down or something, he smiles wryly and tells me to just wait until I get the tickets (wait a minute, they have tickets for grand theft?). I suddenly realize that he isn't arresting me, and has no Constitutional authority in my home, so I tell him, "Then get the hell out of my house!" Boy that felt good, to vent.

But the worst isn't over. (Keep in mind this is 100% real to me--I was just a good Samaritan and now I'm going to be publicly exposed as a felon for it.)

I go to my mom, who is the only one home right now, for sympathy. I get none. First I find out that I wasn't supposed to be running in the first place--I apparently didn't tell mom I was going out and was evading work. Oops! Then, I find out that she has no confidence in my innocence at all, and believes the cop completely!

After two and half hours of this neurotic dream, I woke up to complete and instant relief.

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I was running down a large warehouse with a lot of large bombs and rockets stored on racks. We were under attack; planes kept firing air to air missiles at the bombs. I had to keep running and punching the missiles to the ground before they could explode.

During a lull in the fighting, I ran to the pilots' bunks. Each bunk had a nametag; fondue, iain, gnarl, ZamZ, dizzy and Noether. There was noone around though, so I took a plane and took off.

I fought the attackers for a short time. But then I turned and fired a rocket at the warehouse.

It blew up completely, killing everyone inside


Addendum: The warehouse blew up, not the pilots' quarters, no everythingians were killed :-)

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I woke up many hours ago, but I still remember it, so it might be important.

This guy I lived in Kenya with, called Bruno, was getting off with another girl I knew in Kenya, Lisa. They were both in my flatmate's room. Concurrently with this, Bruno was writing with a non-removable pen all over my house. I remember writing on the wall near the entry, on the door of the small closet, and all over the bathroom floor (which was beautiful white tiles, and very big, unlike my real bathroom floor). This pissed me off, so I told them to get the hell out. They ignored me, so I proceeded to call the police. I was answered, and they got up to leave. Bruno managed (I think it was then) to write some more stuff, possibly with warnings. I was scared afterwards, because Bruno is a black-belt in Karate, although I knew this fear to be unreasonable. People kept coming into the apartment afterwards too.

The real life situation is this:
1. People come into my apartment all the time. It's really annoying. It's like a bloody department store.
2. I haven't seen either Bruno or Lisa in about 9 years. They were two of the least important people in my life in Kenya. Why them?
3. Bruno once kicked my leg when we were play fighting and I couldn't move it for 20 minutes.

After all these trippy dreams induced by mass psychological problems, this one came as no surprise, but definitely not welcome. In this dream, I heard a car in my driveway. I looked out the window. It was my SO's car. For a while, I thought. (The setting was broad daylight by the way, but I was sitting on my bed looking out the window.) "How could that be her?" I thought. "It must be someone else." The car sat for a while, producing no one. It always took her a long time to get out of her car(she had to close the sunroof, etc.). Finally, I see her running towards my house. My eyes grew as big as the sun we used to watch set and I started to run upstairs to meet her at the door. You want coffee? I woke up. Hmm...Imagine that.



By the way, my SO (Whom I love to death) is out of the country for the next 10 months.

I dreamed last night that I was employed. I'm not sure who I was working for, but I worked with several people from various jobs I've worked at over the past fifteen years. It was nice seeing some faces I haven't seen for a long time.

The office was a large room, and it's decor was really old fashioned. The desks were all massive and made of wood, the type that were topped with glass, and they all had those pull-chain desk lamps with a hood of green glass.

The only problem was that it was terribly cold. I just could not get warm to save my life.

When the bell rang (???) to signify it was time to go home, I walked across the street to my dorm. I got into bed, which I had to share with an Asian guy and an American woman, both college aged. This was not unusual to me in the dream, just the way things were.

When I woke up, I went searching the halls looking for a shower. I found about 20 shower stalls in the middle of the cafeteria. They were so small and cramped I could barely fit in one. And the stalls only came up to my shoulders so it was rather difficult to wash my hair. At least the water was hot finally banishing the chill that had pervaded my bones ever since I entered this strange dream.*

When my shower was complete, I wrapped a bedsheet around me like a toga and went searching for my room. I got lost and entered some sort of medical facility that was doing research on animals. This research consisted of feeding the tops of blueberry muffins to raccoons and bears. I stole a muffin and ate it.

Eventually, after wandering many narrow hallways, with many doors on each side, I found my room. I got dressed, and went outside, presumably to go back to work.

The entire world had changed, though. Instead of being something of a world from the past, I was now in some sort of strange future.

I walked back into the (no longer a dormitory) apartment building, where the identification chip in my collar caused a path to light up in the polished marble floor. This path guided me to a sleek looking elevator. I began to feel anxious, because elevators are never fun in my dreams. I boarded, and at first the elevator rose smoothly and quickly. It stopped once, and a woman who looked as nervous as I felt boarded. She implored me to hack into the elevator's control system, so she could rescue her cat. Apparently she had been evicted from her apartment, leaving her cat behind. So, I opened a panel and used my mad skillz to tap into the security camera in her old apartment.

On the screen was a nicely decorated living room, with a fat Siamese cat sitting on the couch. "That's her!" cried the lady, so I programmed the elevator to take us there. The doors opened directly into her apartment, and when she walked in, I heard a huge roar. The cat was about 10 times the size it was supposed to be, and was attacking the woman. I couldn't save her, so I slammed the elevator doors shut and programmed it to take me to the parking lot.

I exited the elevator feeling shaky and confused.

Then I woke up.


*I always know that I'm dreaming during a dream. I've never had a dream that I can recall where I wasn't aware that I was in a dream.

P / N

  • Walking with Bizz in a familiar school hallway and, not knowing it was a dream, discussing dreams. I was excited to notice that this place had a similar structure to the school I tend to dream about, only reversed, of course. I was very excited about this insight.
  • studying for the mean professor's class
  • kimchee
  • My mother was that woman from SNL and she was cruel. The whole family was crowded around the bathroom sink and she kept snapping at me. Finally I threw the deodorant at her and walked out, then thought that looked cowardly and stood my ground outside the door. The walked over, fuming, and gestured as if she were going to squeeze my right breast. I flinched away, then laughed and said go ahead, it'll be much worse for you. Is that something you'd like to admit afterwards? She wasn't hearing me, she was furious. With one finger she traced a square on my upper chest and neck, looked into my eyes, and I knew she wanted me dead.
  • Kramer got out of the car and asked me if I thought he was clumsy, if he injured himself too often. He was very upset and I tried to soothe him.
  • Dawson's Creek sex involved everybody. The couple paused to let the others come in and help. He had gone limp and one of the other guys gave him a quick handjob to get things working again. He laughed and told her she was the one he would carry out of a burning building, and that getting this handjob reminded him of when he was 4.
  • Walking up my parents' driveway by the family reunion of other people, I saw a man coming toward me in the dark and I knew. I ran toward the house screaming, had just enough time for my mind to detach and look at myself and think when it comes down to it, I'm glad I could run and scream. He yanked me backward, his arm was around my face but not tight enough, at the end of the scream I sank my teeth into his arm and ripped myself out of sleep.
  • The woman and her mother were too shy to step up in the restaurant, they were huddling in the foyer and were angry that no one had come to offer them a table. I shoved them slowly in, they did nto seem to notice they were moving, it was like wheeling a heavy grocery cart.
  • Pete brought me half a bag of white flour and stood there expectantly. I knew there was either something odd in the bag or on the package. I stuck my hand in and felt around while I read the copy on the back. It was something like Rockin Good Surfer Flour and the copy was all in rhyming couplets, about how cool you were if you used this brand. It was funny but something was off, he thought it was funnier than it really was, or was trying to communicate something I wasn't getting.
(Warning: long, messed-up dream follows)

The dream began in a park. The park turned out to be in UBC, where Mathcamp was recently held. Now, this was a rather long dream, so by now I've completely forgotten what happened there. Nevertheless, this park turned out to be an important focal point in the dream. Throughout the dream, I knew where I was in relation to it.

I ended up walking along a street in the dark (it had suddenly become night as I walked there). I decided to go into this old-looking cafe that I had never known was there before.

For some reason, my mother and my sister were there, playing cards at a table in the corner. I sat down at the table, talked to them a bit (not at all surprised that they had somehow ended up in UBC), watched the game of cards. The game was played with Set cards, but they weren't playing Set.

Mom wasn't doing too well. In fact, at one point, she got so frustrated that she got out a semi-automatic shotgun, and started shooting it out the door of the restaurant.

"Mom," I said, "what the heck are you doing?"

"Shooting this shotgun out the door."

"Well, stop! You're going to hit someone!" I screamed over the sound of the gunfire.

"No, I won't hit anyone," she insisted.

My sister took this as being completely normal. The game continued, and after another round my mom started shooting again.

I got up in disgust. "Okay," I said, "stop shooting, Mom, because I'm going out there."

She agreed.

I went out the door, noting the large number of bulletholes it had, and onto the dark street (which had, for some reason, become much wider). Two of my friends were running across it in a panic.

"Anatoly and Julian got shot!" they exclaimed. (It is unfortunate that two people with somewhat uncommon names were involved, making this part of the dream sound silly - even though it was the most vivid and frightening part of the dream.)

Pangs of grief and desperation. I hadn't known Anatoly all that well, but Julian was a rather cool mentor at Mathcamp. I tried to convince myself it wouldn't be that bad, because it was the last week of Mathcamp anyway, then realized that Julian wouldn't be around next year either.

My sister had shown up too. For some reason I asked her, "Are you sure they're dead?"

"Yes, they're gone," she said. It seems as if their bodies had just disappeared, as in Star Wars, or something.

I ran back to the dorms and into the common lounge. All the furniture in the lounge had been re-arranged. In fact, the whole building had. I told various people that Anatoly and Julian were dead. "Oh, that sucks", they tended to say. I ran to the mentors' office and knocked on the door, desperate to get someone to listen to me. Someone knocked back. I noticed a small sign on the door which said, written in pen, "you have no reason to be here".

A sudden shift in time. Showing an amazing amount of continuity for a dream, I was in a dark room, telling someone (possibly interviewing me?) that I had nowhere to go now, because of the fact that my mom was in jail and that--

I woke up from the dream. Actually, I didn't - I woke up into another dream. At least I knew that the first one _was_ a dream, so I felt incredibly relieved. Nobody died, I told myself. Everything's okay.

I got out of bed in my Mathcamp dorm (in RL, I'm home from Mathcamp already) and saw that I had a deck of Set cards on my desk. In the standard cliche, I would be frightened by seeing something upon waking up that had to do with the dream. I wasn't. I knew that I had borrowed that deck of cards from some girl, and that I should return them. I went out to do so. (Apparently, she lived in a completely different dorm across the campus, even though IRL all of Mathcamp was in one dorm.) I melded in with a group of people who were also going to see the same person.

"Hey look, there's an Indian guy," someone said while pointing at a window of a building we were passing, in a random event which had nothing to do with anything else. (I don't even know if she meant the Asian or American type.) The person who was being pointed at closed the blinds.

We arrived at the girl's dorm. Apparently, everyone had a reason to see her, as there was a line forming outside her door and a mysterious atmosphere inside the room. At some point, the door disappeared and the room became less of a room, more like a cave dug into the hallway wall. I quickly returned the cards when I came up in line, then started walking back with a different girl who had been in the line. (This shows that it must have been a dream, because I tend to repel females IRL). She didn't talk all that much (which is usually my side of the conversation).

"Let's not walk back through the park," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because that's where I started having this horrible dream."

"Okay."

"And I'll need to stop by my room when we get there."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not wearing any pants." (The standard dream cliche manifested itself.)

"Oh."

Within my dream, the song "Stand By Me" started playing from nowhere, as if it were the end of a movie, as we walked on.

I woke up.

I dream.

Colors, emotions, people, flashing through my head, meaningless. Laughter and screams seem as one, and nothing is the way it should be. Cities, on fire, madmen laughing in the rain.

My dreams are noticeably absent of sugarplums.

I sit down with myself, crying and pleading. My friends sell me pills, their eyes wide with drug-induced glaze. I build fires for warmth, but there is no wood to feed it, no spark to start it. Animals watch me from the corners of the clearing, waiting for my energy to run low.

Streets, trembling under my feet as I walk, speaking of love to a stranger, seeking her advice. 'Bid me discourse,' she says, 'I shall enchant thine ear.' Friends, now enemies, attack me, breaking my bones. I don't dare cry out, they would only laugh.

A library, with plush chairs and a fireplace is where I sit, speaking with a friend, all others suddenly unimportant. My hand strokes the fur of a panther, who coolly rests at my side. Vines cover the walls, hanging from the ceiling. Marble floors, a checkerboard that causes my head to spin.

Plague, madness, death. A sickness, a disease, and I am the carrier. No-one knows, while loved ones and family seek me out, infecting themselves in the process. I would take my own life, but my body is containing it. Were I to die, so would everyone else. Forced to kill those who've done me no harm, I weep.

I dream.

And I pray that one night, I will not.

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