My parents and my grandparents were driving me somewhere, we were in my grampa's Cadillac, somewhere we were going to stay the night...
But I needed something to read, so we stopped at our house to pick me up some computer magazines. It was dark outside, but it was daytime. I got the 'zines together, and decided to get into some more comfortable pants. I was really tired, so it took well over a half hour to put them on (I actually experienced what seemed to me like a whole half hour in the dream). Then I went to the bathroom, and pissed for 4 minutes straight. The road to our destination was lined with apple orchard after apple orchard. I couldn't quite tell if it was winter, or summer, or fall. It seemed like some sort of dead zone, like a cross between winter and fall. It was quite depressing.

I'm inside a carnival house of mirrors and all I see is cracks in all mirrors distorting the image beyond recognition. As I walk around this maze of mirrors this haunting carnival music is playing on an un-tuned organ and I have a fluster of confusion in my mind.

Everything is fine and dandy but then there is a green streak that is flying around me. I steadily look in a mirror fragment and see a hauntingly ugly clown. I hate clowns they are my biggest fear.

He reprehends me and ties me to a carnival wheel that spins and spins and I get dazed and all of a sudden I’m seeing cars fly past me, I'm rolling down the 15 freeway on a carnival wheel butt-naked. All I see is the pointing fingers and agued faces in my direction and there is nothing I can do.

I woke up in a frantic manner and continued my day very disturbed

I walk into my old house, and hear my parents having sex upstairs. I'm slightly grossed out, but not nearly as much as I would be in reality, which is curious. I walk through the garage, and into the downstairs, the sex doesn't stop, as I expect it to, I yell upstairs "I'm home!" or the like. Nothing, it goes on.
I follow the hallway, which is much older than it should be, when we moved into the house it was new, and we moved out of it only 4 years ago. The carpet is worn, the walls are scuffed and darkened as if by smoke. I go into my old room which, I noticed, is now nothing like how it was when we moved out, or anything like my current room. On the contrary, the room did not seem foreign to me, but comfortable, it definitely was my room. I sit on my bed (which has a frame, unlike any bed I've ever owned. I begin writing in a small spiral bound notebook, even though I hate spiral bounds because they always fall apart, and I make a point to get any other kind of notebook.
Anyhow, I start to write about the sex noises upstairs, and I notice that my handwriting is in cursive. I hate cursive, almost as much as I hate spiral notebooks. I never got the hang of cursive writing, and never wrotein cursive, however I did then, and it was normal I mean, it wasn't unusual to me that I was writing that say.
I'm not sure what this dream meant, but it was very disassociative. Like, my house was unlike it was when I lived there, my bed was not like mine, my room wasn't like mine, and my writing wasn't mine, but it seemed like mine.

Rather than go into work today, I decided to join the Air Force.

It was weird. I rode up in a Jeep to the person under whose command I was to be placed. He told me the building I needed to go to, and I started walking. I walked through some sort of training going on. They were in their dress uniforms.

At the building, I filled out my paperwork, had to provide a urine sample, and pay $75 in fees ($50 for the application, $25 for the urine test). I ended up paying what turned out to be the daughter of my commanding officer. She was in her late twenties, and very attractive. She enjoyed playing yo-yo in her spare time, except in her version, the yo-yo was strapped to the nose of a helicopter.

I didn't have cash or checks on me, and I noticed that she had a credit card machine. I paid by debit.

I guess I did my thing, because I was now walking through the building in a PT outfit. We were all on our way out to a field, and the dude in charge kept saying how the day's activities would "kick my ass." I just kept thinking how I would be able to tell everyone that I was in the Air Force for a day. On the way out to that training field, I remember asking someone "What time do we get up in the morning?", and I remember thinking about requesting that they not wake me up "too early." Yeah. I'm sure the Air Force would have LOVED That.

The work-out we had to do was strange. They strapped a rubber plate to us that went across our chest, and on each side were elastic bands pulling backward. We had to push forward, and the mechanism pulled back. We had to go as far as we could, and keep on our toes, and then jump up. Jumping up would fling everyone back. I got about 4 feet, and I wasn't flung far. I sucked.

Strangely enough, throughout all of this, I was still wearing my work pager. I found this out, because my manager from work paged me. I called him back, and I was like "You're not going to believe where I am. Air Force Basic Training!" He said "So you're not coming today?", and I was like "Yes I am. I'll see you about 12."

Everything faded away after that, and I eventually woke up.

Brrr...

I..

Okay, it was Sabbath morning, and I was off to the third church service at the gym as usual. Only it wasn't the gym, it looked like Talge Hall chapel. So it was kind of a cross between The 3rd and regular dorm worships.

I neither remember nor care what they said. I had a handheld video game with me, and was playing it. After it was over, and I was on my way out...

Someone called my name.

I looked back. Standing there, right next to me but only barely recognizable, was my brother Tim. He was.. part of the next program--one for the academy students--and was going to be playing his instrument with some other guys for music. Anyway.

He was, and I mean it, nightmarishly thin, thinner than me. He told me he hadn't eaten at home for years. I felt terrible. But he called me nice names and made me feel like he had been thinking about me. I wanted to get him away from here...

We started running away. The other musicians, some heck hounds, and some old sages chased after us. I think we ran--I forget where we ran to; I think it was my dorm room, on a strange campus far away from here, but I think that was part of a dream before that I forgot.

I woke up and I feel terrible.

Timoteo, I miss you.

I dreamt that I went back to Germany for some time, which turned out to be only a day. I came back and one of the first things I did was call Bubbe and Zayde, my grandparents. I was looking up at the huge Ramada at which they usually stayed or at which I wanted them to stay. I was also going around Market Meadows (a strip mall near my house) while I talked to them on a cell phone. They said they had arranged for me to stay with the woman next door, who had this rundown dark brown single story shack. I didn't want to stay there because there was no chance that someone else I knew would be living there. Then I was watching the Simpsons, or better, it was the Simpsons. Homer had a spider on his face, a little flat black spider, and he couldn't get it off. He had Marge use a shotgun, but that only succeeded in blowing off his jaw, leaving a sensitive purplish patch of skin where the roof of his mouth would have been. When he looked in the broken (via the shotgun) mirror and saw that the spider was still there, he gave in. He was still terrified. I woke up then before my alarm clock because my chin was bleeding. Damn acne...wonder if it could have any connection with my dream.

i had this dream on valentine afternoon, when i took a long-earned nap after weeks of very hard work and very little sleep:

i was walking up a street in weimar (where i live). as i pass by a second hand store (which is not there in reality), i see a pair of trousers that look nice, a mixture between jeans and the trousers my brother brought as a present from vietnam. inside the store, i am greeted by a stoned hippie girl, lying sleepy on a couch. i realize that the trousers are wrecked (a large hole at the left knee), and leave the store.

outside, i meet one of my best friends, uli, who i was working with during the last days. we find ourselves at a large open space where our university is currently (in reality) constructing some large new buildings. the construction site is gone, the open space patched with 1x1m flat grey (ugly) plates, the renovated buildings around look ugly, too large, painted in faint pink, with far to few windows. even some already renewed buildings around have been adjusted to the "new look".

i wake up, because the phone rings. its uli, and i'm telling him the dream i just head, in about the detail seen above. then, i wake up again. i dreamed i was telling him the dream. i wonder if i will wake up again someday.

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