Dream Log: November 20, 2000

Two girls. Sitting in the back of a classroom. They're chattering about something and for some reason I feel very out of place. I slowly open my mouth to speak, and the girl on the right shrinks into a small toddler. Awake.

(For thy browsing pleasure: <-- Day --> | <-- Dream --> | Wolf's Dreamworld )

I was in my home - though it didn't completely look like my home... it was a lot bigger place than that.

At one point, I was playing a game that involved rolling icosahedron-shaped orange things down the hill - once the orange "balls" would collide with other orange "balls", they'd disappear and turn into one yellow "ball" and so on.

I also have a really vague idea about some swimmers and a jetty that seemed to move with its own will...

I had washed Mikko the plush fox in the kitchen... but after I had soaked it, I remembered I wasn't supposed to do that! So it shrunk. At one point it lost its color, and regained it. It lost its form, then at one point it began to look like a fox again, then not. Finally, all I had was one vaguely fox-shaped piece of pink plastic. I put that to the cupboard, wishing I'd find a new plush fox that would look like Mikko. I wanted to cry.

I remember my father was visiting, but he never said where he had come from or where he was going - he just came and went... At one point Reno was here too. We played Tux Racer 0.2 (with a computer that was in my kitchen, the monitor in an open cupboard) - I explained I had not got the new version to work yet. At one point my father came here, and Reno seemed to be scared... I just said to my father "Oh, this is Reno".

I was in my history class taking a long test (which I actually have to take today, sadly) and I had to finish the test by 9:10 to leave for a field trip (another true thing) and it was 8:48, and I was only halfway through the test. So the teacher had these shackles and I was chained down to the floor and not allowed to leave.

Then, I was having this huge argument with my dad about Columbus Day. He was trying to tell me that it's on the 1st of October, and I was positive that it was on the 12th. After that, I was in the car with my dad's girlfrlend and her 15-year-old daughter and I was rambling on about Columbus Day again. They too, thought Columbus Day was on October 1st. You can imagine how angered I was. Then the daughter said something like, "What did Nietzsche do?" and her mom said, "Oh he wrote the cutest songs." Amd I thought, "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?!!?" So they start singing some song that Nietzsche supposedly wrote called "My Baby Angel" and it sounded something like Mariah Carey's "Honey". All I need to tell you is that it was immensely scary to have Nietzsche be accredited with this awful song.

Then I went home and I confronted them all. "I don't have to listen to you and your Columbus Day and Nietzsche wrote songs crap! I know better!" They looked at me like I was a moron. Then I went to my bedroom and I had to clean my room. This largely involved cleaning my garbage can which had the remnants of a boy I had pursuing me a month or so ago. I had slaughtered him, and tubules of his were writhing inside of my garbage water trying to get out. I was so disgusted by this, that I had to separate my trash and take his out separately.

There was also something about my academic team being on the front page of the newspaper for winning the entire county championship (this actually happened as well) but the Sun News was calling us at the house of my dad's girlfriend's sister who lives in Texas. And they would speak to each of us on the phone and I remember what I was going to say if they wanted to speak to me because I memorized it and now I only remember half of what it was, it was something like, "I remain indifferent to.." oh well.

So they found out I had murdered that guy, James, and they took away our huge trophy. No one was mad at me for some reason. Then James cloned, and THEN, everyone was mad at me.

The cycle race wasn't going to be held outside because the grass wouldn't allow cycles on it. We decided to hold it inside the church because that would make it interesting. For some reason we could cycle up and down the stairs without impediment. The race started with me near the middle of the pack, everyone else seemed to streak away quickly and left me to navigate the strange course by myself. Even though I couldn't see anyone, I still felt as though I was last, or at least losing. My legs were hurting and I couldn't steer or pedal the bike properly, and as I wobbled, I lost my bearing and got lost at the spiral staircase which led to the cliffside. As I despaired, and cursed myself for my stupidity, I was approached by one of the church wardens, a friend of my family. He told me that I hadn't lost at all, in fact I had finished in the top 3.

Tired from all that cycling, I laid on the sofa. I wanted to wash, but I couldn't work out where the shower was, or how to work it. She walked past me and started using the shower attached to the end of the chair. I wanted to use it as well, but I was trying to find my phone.

Then I woke up...

I dreamed of his kisses. Hundreds and hundreds of kisses, soft and slow, lingering on lips riddled with smiles, they were so happy to be involved in the act of kissing. I cringed this morning when I saw a couple kissing on television, because it brought back the dream and made me sad with the faded memory of kisses.

I dreamed of revolution in the old French style, with battle hymns in cafes. I dreamed of walking into a darkened cafe. I saw shadows moving within and knew it was occupied and therefore potentially dangerous, but whoever I was with was bumbling and clumsy and did not realize this. We walked into the cafe and I declared who I was and was then suddenly surrounded by friends who had been hiding in case it was us who were the threat. Somehow it made me incredibly happy that I could call my name out into a room and have everyone know who I was and come to my side. Maybe I watched too many episodes of Cheers when I was little. Or maybe I'm just a little lonely, and that much warmth is a waking dream of mine as well. He was there in the cafe, and he came to me with embraces. We laid down before a window and watched the scene on the street for hours, cuddled up in blankets and each other.

Then I dreamed of a planet without water, and in this dream I was a superhero traveling across the dimensions to raid other people's vending machines for soda.

... So the night got a little sillier as it wore on.

I dreamed that Matt and I were back in Mexico. Nothing had changed about our bedroom, we were lying there in the same bed, but I knew with great certainty that if I looked out the window I would see lush greenery and Mayan women on their way to market instead of parked cars and snow covered sidewalks.

Other than the fact they were all zombies, dead zombies, freshly killed at the hands of their own family members, there was not much difference in their behavior.

I was sitting with them all, watching them interact, as they discussed what to do with me. My grandfather says, “We could hit her with a frying pan.” Grandma wanders into a room that is not the kitchen, looking for the pan and everyone rolls their eyes. Becoming the undead does not cure senility, apparently. My cousin Andy offers to get his bow and shoot me. I decline. The whole family talks about how they died “I was choked. It wasn’t bad!” my aunt says because she’s the upbeat zombie. My father makes a halfhearted attempt to choke me, thinking I would like that method best, but frankly I am irritated

“I don’t want to be a fucking zombie” I tell them and they all seem mad and hurt by this.

i'm at work. only, work isn't work. work is me sitting in the cab of a piece of very large construction equipment on campus with my iBook. dream logic. it made sense then.

while "working" i get an email from my ex gf. it says she wants to get back together. suddenly she comes running up from out of nowhere and starts hugging and kissing me. i push her away and say "we need to talk." meaning to tell her i don't want to get back together, that i'm over her and happy with someone else now. before i can say that she says "ok, but lets go to the tunnel first." and takes off running. i run after her. suddenly she isn't wearing clothes anymore.

we get to a tunnel that is apparently located somewhere on campus. it's pitch black. i see the faint red glow of a cigarrette. i smell a trap. suddenly flood lights illuminate the area. her, her new boyfriend, and Dave Grohl(!?) are all standing there laughing at me and start throwing rocks at me in an attempt to stone me to death. i take off running but trip and fall down, they descend on me for the kill.

i wake up screaming.

I don't usually have interesting enough dreams to post in here.. but my last one was just so weird... from what i can remember...

Me and my girlfriend were out at some farm somewhere in the Sacramento Valley of California. We were in the middle of nowhere, in some weird field where plants were growing extremely fast. We would plant stuff and watch it grow to immense size, but it would quickly die. I was trying to start some habitat restoration projects out there with oaks and pines but they didn't take. Then, for some reason, this huge wind storm came up. Apparently, someone was creating it on purpose to 'clean the field up'. I tried to hold on to a tree but was getting all stretched by the wind, towards the far end of the field. I didn't know where my girlfriend was. Eventually I let go and blew out of the building and found her there

This is where it gets really weird. Apparently, while we were in there, just about everyone else in the world had either died or disappeared. All the cities were intact; cars were even moving around, but no one was in them or the people who were there were motionless, and the cars were randomly crashing into things. Obviously, at this point, i was pretty damn scared. So i yelled 'lets get the fuck out of here' to my girlfriend, and we went running down this hill of dead wild oats and found this old house. People were in there but were extremely drunk (not a bad response to the scenario, but they wouldnt share). When we asked for help they sent us to another house down the street. Upon arriving there and asking for help from this other group of very drunk people, they threw us a big round piece of bread and slammed the door, saying 'go talk to the new government'. Turns out, somehow, some new Orwellian weird socialist government had already taken over. We went to go register ourselves or something but there was a huge line and you had to pay to get in, and we had no money. So we just wandered off, and were considering trying to go back to that field and farm for a living

About that time i woke up. None of this make any sense whatsoever. weird...

When I went to sleep, I was a 20-year-old man named Damian Yerrick. When I woke into the dream, I was in the Witness Protection Program...

...as a 20-year-old woman named Ronia (I forget the surname, but it was Slavic and hard for English speakers like me to pronounce; it did start with an S). The house I had moved into resembled the first floor of my real house. But for some reason, the gang that was chasing Damian could still find me; I had to close the blinds. Strangely, I began to experience lucid dreaming effects: every time I was about to be captured, I simply pushed the reload button and replayed the last few seconds until I was able to ward off the intruders safely. At the end of all this, it was time to head off to class at the community college a few blocks down the street. I had to get used not only to answering to the name "Ronia" and to my surname but also to being a female and acting somewhat feminine. After the day's classes were over, I decided to take a nap...

...and woke up into what most of us consider the real world. And yes, I got my manhood back.

If this dream recurs in greater detail or fits into one of my other dreams, I'll add the new material here and list it in the updates section of my day log.

_ex Kitten

• A second night of dreaming about my ex-girlfriend. While the first was much more intense and healing, this one was merely strange. She may appear to be my ex, but she is, in fact, another person. We are in a small apartment and I spend an hour refusing sexual advances by her. By the end, she has stripped herself of all clothing and is cooing softly like a cat in heat.