Dream Log: August 28, 2000

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I was offered a ride to school with four other students. My dad was driving. He drove straight over the railroad tracks without even slightly stopping. Everyone, supposedly Driver's Ed students or just caring individuals, was enraged by this. My dad said that it's stupid to stop there because there is no way that a train is going to pass through there. I told him it does though and he acted like a moron about it.

We pull into the parking lot, which is now located where my school's basketball court used to be. It's still dark out so I ask what time it is, an administrator with an old pocket watch turns to me and says, "44" (6:44, I guess).I walk towards my school, which was one building--not like my school that is laid out like a college. I'm climbing the stairs which lead to the senior hall where the library is. The librarian out front scowls at me and says I can't be there because I'd just be trouble. Since the library isn't open yet. I feel awful that she thinks I'm that kind of person, when usually librarians smile at me with open arms. So I sit down on the stairs. A little girl comes down the staircase to a display of books which are by me. Things like Arthur books, A Wrinkle in Time, and Catcher in the Rye. I pick up a book, deciding I will read it later, and begin to tie my shoes. The librarian sees me, comes down the stairs and begins yelling at me for being there. I try to explain to her that I'm just tying my shoes, but why would she believe this. I feel awful the way everyone is treating me, yelling at me when I did nothing wrong. And being the sensitive soul that I am, I started to cry. She yelled at me for this too. I looked up and I said, "I feel like Holden Caulfield when he was crossing the road and he felt like he was disappearing." Her face lighted up. "Oh, so you had to read it for school." "No, I read it in my free time when I was in the 8th grade. It's my favorite book. I've read it at least 25 times since then." She didn't believe this. She was conjuring in her head a test to prove this. But it was too late for that. She began to discuss elements of the story that she enjoyed, and the only real one I can remember was how she thought that from the beginning it was written all over the page, the end of the story: DEFEAT. I wasn't arguing with this because I hated her interpretation. She just sounded like one of those people who reads to get some sad human moral out of it, not for what she feels it means.

I left and I found myself at a road crossing the street. I looked around and saw only a car far away coming, so I began to walk. Another man came, one with prosthetic legs. Before he crossed, he dropped his prosthetic legs and ran like I have never seen a man run. I had just made it to the pavement when I woke up.

I was sitting in my house when some guy walked in and grabbed my arm and took me out to the front yard next to two horses. He got on his, and I got on mine. We were just having some normal chit-chat, nothing weird, and we started to ride.

He started saying that he wouldn't trust these horses with his laundry, as we jumped off of a cliff and floated down next to a few buildings like we were parachuting.

Meanwhile, I was telling this stranger that I have to trust this horse with my life, because I'm on him right now. I lost my companion somehow, and my horse came in for a landing. Once I got off, my horse turned into a husky. That was kinda weird, but I seemed to accept it as only a little out of the ordinary.

So my dog and I walked into a building, and the dog went just inside, and turned and growled at me, an started gnawing on my hand. Not really biting, but kinda gumming my hand. I just patted him on his head, and walked by. As I went through this little hallway, it morphed into a bigger hallway, almost like a hall at a zoo near me, only no glass on the exhibits, and then a bunch of eyes opened out of the darkness. I just kept my cool, and kept walking. As I reached the end of the hallway, I yelled into the room, asking if anyone was in there and heard no response, so I closed and locked the door.

I thought about this afterwards, and figured if there was someone in there, he or she wasn't gonna say anything since they'd get attacked, but then I figured they'd have been attacked already because dogs have a good sense of smell. Then I just walked away, sad I didn't have my dog/horse anymore.

We are "driving" in a green and midwestern-y sort of area — the terrain is rather flat — except that we don't seem to have a car. We move on and off the various on-ramps... maybe we don't even move our feet.

We stop at a public swimming pool — perhaps it is some kind of amusement park. We expect it to be deserted but there is a big pool party going on. The pool is practically full of people. The people are friendly and they want to see our baby. They invite us to unload our portacrib while they coo over the baby.

The changing rooms are even more full of people than the pool was. There are drains all around the walls, below lockers that don't work. The drains seem to be filled with some herb-decorated variety of marinara sauce, and the rooms smell in a way that is almost sickeningly sweet. We are afraid to leave anything in the lockers, something just feels very "off" about the whole situation. Why are all these people here? How did they know we were coming? If they didn't expect us, then what is this pool party about?

Feeling considerable disquiet we return to the pool area and try to act as though we are not too wary.

I enter the dream by waking up on a sofa bed, excited about the book I'm reading. The book is about humanity's first contact with aliens. The description of the aliens is what I remember most ... made of some sort of spongy plant matter, their eyes are actually natural lasers. While they don't wish humans harm, they also don't understand that we're sentient.

It seems like, for a time, I'm in the book, a fantasy within a dream. This being the first dream I can recall in nearly a week, I think to myself (in the dream) that this is going to be a really weird dream.

Then I come back to my "reality" on the sofa bed. Again, it's horribly cold. That's three dreams in a row in which the chill factor has been of note.

However, this time, I'm somewhat prepared. I know the layout of the (house? apartment?) where I'm staying and so I go to the armoire to fetch another blanket. I open the safe (??? and the combination is 24-79-46) but instead of finding blankets, I find boxed sets of WWF wrestling videotapes. I'm then hit with full knowledge of my dream environment.

I'm at the house of my best friend's boyfriend. He is an older man, retired from the military but still in the closet. This explains, I suppose the tapes of oiled up wrestling beefcake locked away in the safe. I then recall the purpose of my being in the house. It seems that this man is being haunted by ghosts of some kind. I appear to be alone in the house, and feel an electric thrill of fear along my spine. I realize at that point I'm not alone.

I turn around, and there is an old man sitting at the dining room table. I know instinctively he's a ghost. He seems sad and lonely, maybe a little lost. I try to communicate with him, but he fades out of existence ... I am utterly fascinated by this.

I return to my sofa bed, only to find that someone has vomited all over the blankets. I'm sure a ghost has done this, to keep me from sleeping. So I begin to search the house. I find that the house is stuffed full of people and/or ghosts. I find that I cannot tell the difference, nor can I directly communicate with any of these people.

Most of the people in the house are young, and there's a couple of guys I recognize in the dream as porn stars ... these two guys always play the part when I have male porn stars in my dreams, and since they're the only people I recognize, I try extra hard to get their attention. No luck.

I notice that each room in the house has some kind of tank or aquarium in it with a blue viscous fluid of some kind ... you know, the kind that's in those ocean wave simulators that are executive toys.

By waving my hands I'm able to excite this fluid, making it move within each tank. However, instead of getting anyone's attention, this seems to frighten everyone, badly. I wonder why everyone seems so scared, so I increase my waving, thinking that I can make some sort of message with the aquarium fluid.

Instead, the fluid takes on a life of its own, and begins to devour the guests, like a bad Stephen King story (as soon as I think this comparison in the dream, I realize that something similar to this was a bad Stephen King short story). People are screaming, and trying to get out of the house, but no one, myself included can find the exit. More rooms, with more evil aquariums, are presented to me with each door I, or anyone else, opens.

I wake up, a little freaked out. Then I realize something...

I was a ghost in the dream.

these dreams are quite crazy. they were nightmares caused by drinking a pot of coffee and reading 1984 before going to bed. i'm sure Deus Ex didn't help much either.

the end

my father stands before me in a solemn state. we are on the coast of the pacific ocean. he is planning on launching several nuclear missiles around the world. he wants to end all life. i try to talk him out of it, but the first missile is already detonating somewhere west of us in the water. there is a mass of people watching with special dark glasses, they are amused. i turn away in disgust and cover my eyes; the blast is as bright as the sun. i again beg my father to stop and he seems to ponder the idea. he then shrugs off the notion and continues; he knows we will all die.

others are involved with the ending of the world. my resistance is noted, and i am ordered to be killed. this however, is something that i don't like. i find a hotel with many floors and ride the elevator to the top. thank god i have my sniper rifle (heh). i walk to the balcony of a room and take aim. the members of the movement are obvious. the first man i see is one of the leading men. i focus the sight, steady my aim, and pull the trigger. he's down with a fatal wound to the head. i pick off various other people in an attempt to end the madness. i can't find my father... god damn it, i can't find my father.

i wake up. christ that was messed up, it was just a dream. i fall back asleep.

i am in the same situation, but in a different location at the hotel. another leader finds me and tells me i am a good shot. the movement is slowing down. it's only a matter of time before the nuclear winter begins. the man then says something to the extent of "i will kill you if this fails you fucker." i am tempted to pull the .44 out of the back of my pants and blow this guys brains out. for some reason i refrain from doing so. i find an abandoned sports car and drive off. i will die soon. the world is over, it is dead.

---

"i am your father"

i am attacking a large ship from the cockpit of an a-wing. it is fun, but i am alreading crashing, so i try to land inside the enemy ship. i enter through a port in the side. as i exit, i am greeted by darth vader. we fight with light sabers. he throws my saber away from me, but allows me to retrieve it. i later free the saber from his hands, but i am merciless and take his life.

Soccer Seizure

• Quite suddenly, I am in the middle of an indoor soccer game. I don't know which team I'm on; I don't know what position I'm playing; I don't know which direction I'm supposed to be running. I have the ball and I'm completely disoriented. I look down at my jersey and see that I'm on the white team. In the distance, I see white players around the far goal. I realize I am a forward (goal-shooter) and give a quick kick to the ball in the direction of the nearby goal. The other players are swiftly chasing after me and it. The ball hits the side of the goal and bounces back to me. I desperately kick again and it flies through the air and very neatly shoots out of bounds. I feel humiliated and hysterical. I collapse to the ground and fake an atonic seizure, my desperate attempt to get the fuck off that field. They carry my limp body to the sideline. Later on, I describe to them the blinding light that exploded in my head...

I walked into my apartment in New York City. Natalie was there waiting for me. She was wearing a tight black skirt (skin tight) with no underwear and a black tanktop. She ran over to say hi. We greeted each other, then we went into the other room to watch a movie. BZZZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!! I woke up. My pager was going off, slowly vibrating its way off my nightside table. It was this girl that's trying to get between me and Natalie. Ugh. See also: Her Name Was Natalie.

a devil in a black dress watches over-why?

burroughs. he's here. the fellows in the other part of the house say he took a walk to find me.

-he wanted to find me?-

looking down over the water. a fish? a dead fish is floating by the sewage outlet, seemingly.. a fishing string? yes, he's tethered by a fishing string to the rusty pipe. the pipe is curled in, sort of like a melting straw. the fish is shiny floating, even through the crappy blackish water.

they said he would be cutting back and forth..

i knock and open the door slightly, the first thing i saw was his face, his face like bleached clay. i notice the calendar behind him, it's for all the people in the house, like he controls and knows what's happening every day for everyone. the calendars themselves? like his books, cut up and juxtaposed. we agree that the shows on television today are crap? thats what he was doing, he was watching television?

i thought he wanted to find me.. he's not out looking, he saw me on the television.

we lie down on seperate couches, like the ones in psychiatrist's offices, all clinical and slippery. there's a huge television in front of each of us, shiny and crusted, burnt on the edges christmas cookie style (the pillsbury ones you get in the tube, that don't work in an electric oven and become charred pieces of processed flesh)

- i woke up. it sucks, now i want to go back to sleep but i know i'll never get back there. i think i remember something about soap operas and charlies angels, but i'm not certain. *sigh*. c'est la vie.