Dream Log: October 14, 2000

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(Haven't seen dreams for a looong time, and even this one isn't much...)

I, and my family, were travelling somewhere.

We had stopped somewhere, and we went to a hotel. I remember that the hotel had an old wooden table.

The hotel also had some sort of sauna. Some guy who worked in the sauna was ranting there how great thing the shower was and how everyone should try it... I tried the shower, and when I came out, I could just scratch the blisters and corns off of my feet.

So, we were once once again about to get moving... The car was on a side street, similiar to one side street in Kuhmo. My sister had a strange pseudonym. She was sitting on my seat. I remember that I needed to cross the street first to get to the car, and before I did that, an electric railway engine drove past slowly. (It had no railway cars... and there were no rails?)

Instead of going to my friends cabin with him, we went to some secret hotel instead.. Either of us was supposed to be there, but I acted like coming to some gangster place would be completely normal to me. We didnt even need to pay! The room was an extremely nice suite, silk bedsheets and stuff. Soon the roomservice came to invite us to the manager of the place, and though I was nervous about getting caught, I went in the meeting..

The boss was a real gangster, and he asked if I had any bussines here. I didnt, so I decided to quickly invent something and said him that I know new kind of cutting equipment for breaking in to somewhere. I managed to tell him that I didnt have it with me, but I could make it if I just got some time, though my real intention was to escape as soon as I'd get some privacy. He let me into inner yard of the building, with no way to escape, but let me alone with my friend as I had asked. My friend was nervous for a reason, but I looked around for something to use for new invention. There was a slightly broken streetlight that glowed only dim blueish light, some plants, and a dumpster with debris. I dont know how I made it (after all, this is a dream..), but at least I used curved pieces of shiny metal to direct all light into broken desk lamp magnifying glass, put an lense of eyeglasses on the hot spot under the magnifying glass, and with mirror fragments directed the beam to a brick wall. At the spot the beam hit, the grout started to flow down like sand. The owner of the place came out, and was amazed of my success, so I explained him that this used same principle as laser pointed against the window for spying the voice caused vibrations inside the room. This thing used the slightly malfunctioning light as its power source, and changed the vibrating light into physical vibrations those break the wall. The boss was pleased, and told us we can stay in the hotel whenever we wanted.

We got back to our room, and I told my friend that this was a LOT better than being at his cabin, and he started to believe it too. Soon the extremely sexily dressed girl from the roomservice came in and asked if we'd like something, and I asked for Pepsi and cookies. She was a bit suprised because she was already heading for the minibar for something with alcohol, but she left to get Pepsi and cookies from somewhere. I turned to my friend and told that I wonder if this roomservice could give me something "special". He grinned and said "Pepsiä keksiä ja seksiä.. (translated: Pepsi, cookies, and sex) Is that like, everything you ever need for happines?", but I woke up before she got back..

I seemed to be living in a large shared apartment (underground, for some weird reason). I came home wanting a bath and there was a strange woman in my bathroom, very sleek and foreign, who looked at me as if I were a slug and told me to get out, in broken English. To disarm her frightening arrogance I introduced myself and asked her where she was from, but she ignored me and began calmly chucking my clothes into a wastebin. Then she headed next door to the living-room, (me following) and began laughing and joking with another strange woman in a corner. The rest of the household - seven or so people - were seated round the telly, including a little girl with wet hair, who was shivering. I grabbed a towel and started to dry her hair. I didn't seem able to ask the others who the stranger was and what she was doing there. None of them acted as if anything unusual was going on.

When the child's hair was dry she ran off. The stranger was now laughing and joking with two men, who were my two best friends. It hurt so much I couldn't look at their faces, but I couldn't seem to do anything or say anything, because everyone else was still acting normally. So I followed the child, who went up in a lift and emerged in some kind of enormous, dark shopping mall. She took me into a shiny shop full of Japanese-looking, colourful gadgets and toys, and we began playing with large, bright transparent orange bubbles. A woman came in who I obviously knew.
"It's terrible," she said, nodding sagely, "but we mustn't mind these things, must we? Come to the pub."

I was convinced that in the pub she would tell me what was going on, so I followed her. We sat in a dim mall bar, and had just got drinks when a loud, terrible siren started up. Someone said it was a bomb, and we had to get out. Everyone in the mall pelted towards the escalators. At this point the dream branched off and I was heading back to rescue the little girl. Then I was in a corridor with her and my best friends - one of whom I was obviously in love with - who were apologising and saying it was all a mistake. Then I realised that this was a dream, and I was really still trying desperately to get to the escalators. The confused pushing and shoving started to suffocate me, and I woke up.

Weirdly coherent, and disturbing. Nothing on the level of my usual nightmares, but the oddest thing about it was that there was not a single familiar face in the whole thing, and I don't recall having one like that before. Spooky.

I took a nap this afternoon.

I'm at my parents' house. My father and I stand at the bay window in the "family room". The lights in the house are out. There is light, wet snow falling outside.

It seems to be near Christmas: There is a mechanical Nutcracker robot dancing around a cluster of pine trees about thirty yards from the house. He's twenty or twenty-five feet tall, almost as tall as the trees. He's constructed from square-trimmed hedges, like large blocks, with wire along the edges. He skips endlessly in a circle around the trees. We don't tolerate outdoor Christmas decorations other than a wreath on the door, but it doesn't seem odd that this thing is there.

There are Christmas lights on a house across the valley. There is another house right across the driveway, very close to our house: There is no house there in reality, but again, it doesn't seem odd.

There is a brief light in the sky, and a very large human figure is running along the crest of the hill opposite. This is eastern Pennsylvania, where hills tend to be long ridges. The figure jumps off the end of the hill. There is a purple flash in the sky, and an airplane with two engines (propellers) flies toward the house from the direction of that same hill. It's about two hundred feet up, and entirely silent. A human figure drops from the airplane. The figure is lit from behind. The airplane passes out of view over the house. The person who dropped is moving pretty fast, and he lands on the driveway in a seated position between us and the nearby house. He slides out of sight around the side of the house, throwing up spray the whole time. A spotlight shines briefly on the hillside. My father and I crouch down so as not to be seen, but that's annoying and pointless so we stand up again.

A man, presumably the one who dropped from the airplane, is walking across the yard toward the house. He is wearing a flight suit, with hoses and so forth, but no helmet. He has no facial expression. I'm uneasy about this, so I look around for a weapon, but there's nothing within reach. I can't seem to walk. The man in the flight suit reaches the window and starts doing something to it: He's removing the window so he can come in. I wave my arms at him and he doesn't react. He moves rapidly and confidently. There are large wrenches and all manner of blunt instruments in the garage, and knives in the kitchen, but I can't move. I want a weapon very badly. I wake up.

Three fragmented dream-vignettes on the death of civilization, all in one night. Time for less heavy foods before bedtime.

• Environmental collapse: all plant life on Earth has been destroyed, or is dying. There is exactly one stand of trees left on Earth, in a remote corner of New Zealand. People need breather masks and oxygen tanks to venture outside of atmosphere-sealed areas, which they do rarely and at great risk. I'm staying in a tiny, space-station style holdout underground, with a few old friends. Eventually our oxygen runs out, and we decide to kill ourselves rather than die slowly of hypoxia. Somebody pulls out a platter of syrettes full of phenobarbitol, each one neatly labelled with one of our names. I jab mine into my arm, and cut immediately to...
• The ascencion of madness: the world is somehow breaking up into little bubbles of reality, each one governed by different laws of physics and with no real connection to any other. Me and a random group of people are living in mid-sized suburban house surrounded by a tiny, tenuous bubble of reality. At the edge, nameless and unspeakable horrors (dreams don't know no cliche) try to batter their way in. Me and the only girl my age there somehow end up in an upstairs bathroom having sex. Moments before I can reach orgasm, our bubble shatters, and all of us are dispersed to the ends of creation. I end up in...
• The time of the mutants: Did I mention that dreams know no cliche? A variety of comic-book style mutants have sprung into existence, and are ravaging everything around them. I somehow end up becoming this tiny grasshopper thing, with the power of speaking all languages. I jump onto the shoulder of a giant muscle-bound Incredible Hulk thing which is tearing an ocean liner in half, and start explaining, in its own language, why what it's doing is wrong. Eventually I get it to stop, and begin to mediate between it and an angry crowd bent on vengeance...

Then I wake up. I ain't gonna try to psychoanalyze this one.

I was younger, like 15, and living on some sort of commune, my roommates were zot-fot-piq and yossarian. There was a chart hanging in the hallway with the job roster, it was my week for washing dishes but I also had to sweep.

So it was branding day at the cattle ranch but because we hadn't behaved, we had to housetrain the new dogs. I'm not sure what we did wrong, but it involved the laundry. We either forgot to fold it or let it land in the mud when we took it off the line.

Zot-fot-piq gave me one of the new puppies to hold, she was teeny and defenseless. I cuddled her and watched him do the dirty work, he was the one who got us in this mess to start with. He also had to give immunizations which I can't do. I'm no vet.

Things started to get hectic right about then, a fresh load of cattle came in and they wanted me to help with the branding. They shoved a red hot poker in my hand and I gagged, almost fainted but then zot-fot-piq and yossarian came. They managed to talk the foreman into confusion, I know they used the word shlong at least twice. That scared me, I can't imagine them doing that usually, so I figgered I was in a really tight spot.

The man with the tattoo finally relented into letting me go home to share a room with my sister's babies. They started crying and that's what woke me up.