Last night, I dreamed I was reading the fifth Twilight book by Stephenie Meyer. Had a character named Callen or Galen or... something. He was basically my Edward. And there were some adventures. And of course I was alternately reading the story, and actually in the story. I was alternately Bella, and someone separate, a friend of hers. And the Calen guy was alternately Edward and at the same time my own separate love. I don't remember the entire dream or story... I remember beautiful scenery of green mountains and hills and trees and... but I remember the feeling quite strongly.
There was this adventure. But we were invincible. We couldn't die, we couldn't be hurt. And it would never end, as we'd live on forever. The feeling? ...it was awful. It was a bored feeling.... 'ok, sure we can go on living these adventures... but nothing is at stake. nothing is a risk. there is no reason to care if we succeed or fail because we will just keep on living invincibly'. It was this hopeless endless incredibly bored feeling. I will admit, I woke up incredibly calm this morning. I opened my eyes still halfway taken by the dream, still feeling like it didn't matter if I woke up or stayed in bed, went to work or stayed home and got fired. Nothing mattered. I didn't need to eat. I didn't need to work. I didn't need shelter or a home. My body was invincible. In a hundred years anything I worked for at this point in time would have rotted or rusted away, people I fought for would have died anyway, and I'd still be exactly the same. No family, no children, no death, no fear. Nothing. I woke up feeling like, "Well, I'll get up and go to work today. Why not? Sleeping in is as pointless as getting up. Who cares?"
It was a really weird feeling. Sure. The entire world was open to me. Adventures of every sort were available. And there was nothing to fear. But there was absolutely totally completely no point to any of it, simply because there were no risks, fears, deaths, change. Nothing mattered. And I felt bored and almost wanted to die. I knew I would wish that I could kill myself within a mere couple weeks. I still felt like dying as my eyes opened. And then I realized it was all just the dream. I had to go to work, or I would get fired, and then be unable to pay for rent and food, and then freeze and starve, and then die, and then never work for anything or have any family. And... it seemed exciting. I was happy to go to work today.
I have to say though.... the characters in twilight lost a lot of credibility to me... it's possible for them to die in those books, albeit difficult. I'm surprised ANY of them haven't done that yet.... how could they not? I don't buy it anymore. And Bella.... I had my love in my dream. And let me tell you..... it did NOT make me want to live forever. It wasn't enough of a reason to me. It helped alleviate the pointlessness... but not enough.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Quote; totally awkward...
"Trying to describe what I do in prayer would be like telling the world how I make love to my wife. "
— J.I. Packer
— J.I. Packer
Dream; Standing by too cowardly to help
I never have nightmares, but I do sometimes have dreams that make me feel sick once I wake up. While dreaming them, I am not terrified, but when I wake up, I can feel really awful. Dreams that have done this included waiting to be crucified with Jesus, atomic and nuclear bombs going off on the horizon, the sacrifice to save a kid from genocide dream I described before, and occasionally others. Last night was awful like that once I woke up.
There was other stuff that happened, but I felt so sick by it I had no motivation to write it down earlier, and basically wanted to forget most of it, so it would be easier to write. I know before the really awful part, there were a group of us who were gathering together. We were superheroes, or heroes without superpowers, but... anyway. It never mattered in the end.
I was sleeping, and I woke up (into another dream, never actually woke up). In my sleeping, I had dreamed of hearing someone screaming. I woke up, and my bedroom window was open, and someone was actually screaming out in the park behind our house. I didn't think much of it, it happens all the time. And I could hear my mom and sister awake upstairs. But the screaming continued. Finally I went upstairs. My mom and sister had heard the screaming. They told me someone was being raped out in the park. In panic I called the police. But my mom and sister did nothing. We all stood in my sister's room, with the lights out, the window cracked, hearing this woman screaming, screaming, you could hear in her voice that she was fighting. And we knew, and I won't argue it because the rules in dreams... each night the dream world is a different world. And each dreamworld has it's own rules. And in this one, if we had gone out to help her, we would have most likely been raped too. Or killed. And so we did nothing. We sat inside, not helping this woman, as we heard her screams out in the park in the dark, where we couldn't see her. Because it would be dangerous to ourselves, we let her get raped. Better her than us?? At the same time, I knew if it were me, I'd want help. I'd want people to come stop him. And if others tried, enough of them... they would succeed. I'd be saved. If enough helped. But no one wants to take that first risk. No one did for this woman. The whole neighborhood stood in fear and did nothing as they heard her screaming out there, somewhere in the dark, while we were all safe.
I was utterly ashamed when I woke up. Some dreams take a few minutes or even a few hours to wear off. Even though you know they aren't real... sometimes something about them..... I was so ashamed when I woke up. Because the fear and the feeling were too real. To the point that I wonder... if being harmed were so assured as it was in the dream, would I stand up and help someone, or would I cower as I did in this very real-feeling dream? And to think, just earlier in the dream, we'd been a group of superheroes. I felt ashamed for hours how I handled myself, even though it was a dream.
I felt sick all day thinking about this dream. I still hate to write it out. But the time and the bits of it I've forgotten make it easier. I don't remember images.... truth is though, I can still hear her screams. I can still feel her emotions. It still makes me sick. This is one of the worst dreams I've had in a long time.
There was other stuff that happened, but I felt so sick by it I had no motivation to write it down earlier, and basically wanted to forget most of it, so it would be easier to write. I know before the really awful part, there were a group of us who were gathering together. We were superheroes, or heroes without superpowers, but... anyway. It never mattered in the end.
I was sleeping, and I woke up (into another dream, never actually woke up). In my sleeping, I had dreamed of hearing someone screaming. I woke up, and my bedroom window was open, and someone was actually screaming out in the park behind our house. I didn't think much of it, it happens all the time. And I could hear my mom and sister awake upstairs. But the screaming continued. Finally I went upstairs. My mom and sister had heard the screaming. They told me someone was being raped out in the park. In panic I called the police. But my mom and sister did nothing. We all stood in my sister's room, with the lights out, the window cracked, hearing this woman screaming, screaming, you could hear in her voice that she was fighting. And we knew, and I won't argue it because the rules in dreams... each night the dream world is a different world. And each dreamworld has it's own rules. And in this one, if we had gone out to help her, we would have most likely been raped too. Or killed. And so we did nothing. We sat inside, not helping this woman, as we heard her screams out in the park in the dark, where we couldn't see her. Because it would be dangerous to ourselves, we let her get raped. Better her than us?? At the same time, I knew if it were me, I'd want help. I'd want people to come stop him. And if others tried, enough of them... they would succeed. I'd be saved. If enough helped. But no one wants to take that first risk. No one did for this woman. The whole neighborhood stood in fear and did nothing as they heard her screaming out there, somewhere in the dark, while we were all safe.
I was utterly ashamed when I woke up. Some dreams take a few minutes or even a few hours to wear off. Even though you know they aren't real... sometimes something about them..... I was so ashamed when I woke up. Because the fear and the feeling were too real. To the point that I wonder... if being harmed were so assured as it was in the dream, would I stand up and help someone, or would I cower as I did in this very real-feeling dream? And to think, just earlier in the dream, we'd been a group of superheroes. I felt ashamed for hours how I handled myself, even though it was a dream.
I felt sick all day thinking about this dream. I still hate to write it out. But the time and the bits of it I've forgotten make it easier. I don't remember images.... truth is though, I can still hear her screams. I can still feel her emotions. It still makes me sick. This is one of the worst dreams I've had in a long time.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Dream; Lucid dream hand experiment
That was sooner than I thought. I tested the hands last night after all.
Suddenly in my dream, the world turned into summer. Full of perfect detail of leaves. It was so real. There was a deep deep blue sky, and deep blue lake (but still with white snow and ice on it). There was deep green leaves and grasses. And deep yellow everywhere. Autumn leaves on the ground even alongside the green leaves. Golden sunlight coming through the trees. I mean, it was beautiful! Also, I flew a LOT. I flew by using... like the size of a book. I held it in my hands and let it catch the wind. If I wanted to go in any direction I'd change it's angle. If I wanted to go lower, I'd straighten it vertically. If I wanted to slow down, I'd flatten it.
The dream was based around the backyard of my parent's home. I flew over the lake. I flew around our backyard. It was sooooo perfect and rich and beautiful. The plot was minimal. I was avoiding Sarah, trying to eavesdrop on her as she walked with a group of girls to a building that was either a college class building or an apartment building. I landed on the roof. Green and gold painted roof. Scary because high. There was a trap door on it, that I opened. But it just opened into an elevator shaft. I got off there quick, it kind of scared me. She never saw me because I was flying above her. It was the easiest time I've ever had flying.
Anyway, when I first entered the backyard and everything was summer and so detailed, I remembered the last time something was so detailed and I made a note of it. It was when I reached out and touched a tree. When my dad told me the challenge yesterday of the hands, I told him about that time I'd seen my hand touching the perfectly real tree. So that made me think of the hands, and I remembered, and I did it.
It was weird! My hand would be perfectly normal. Then I'd start trying to lift my fingers one by one. I almost always got an extra one between my middle finger and pointer finger. Not one I could see. But I'd finish counting to five by the time I got to the pointer finger, and then the thumb would try to be six. A couple times I got it all right. But it took some concentration. I also had some rodeo scenes stamped into my hand in five small places, on the left hand. Someone by the name of Munarde Buffalo or something was the artist.
I also, along with Lee, tried to keep some stupid park boys from messing up our backyard. In the sandbox they were trying to put concrete foundations. They had cage wire all over, like for their own garden. They were mad at us for throwing it all out, and we just pointed out it was our yard. They also were trying to make us feel bad about the fence tilting and falling over, said it was from the mud on the outside. We informed them that it was actually from the sand built up on the inside due to a sprinkler breaking and flooding earlier, and then the snow pushed it down. (actually, it was wind in real life, then snow later). And.... I mean, flying was almost easy. And the colors were so real. I could feel the dream ending when the colors faded back to winter quality. I mostly just spent the dream flying around admiring the colors and detail and scenery and flying success. Not much plot. I was too aware of dreaming for there to be much story. It was just consciously enjoying the dream and what I could see. When I was waking up, I sang a song praising God for the beauty I had just been given and allowed to see.
It WAS beautiful. I wish I were an artist so I could share it all. Absolutely amazing.
Suddenly in my dream, the world turned into summer. Full of perfect detail of leaves. It was so real. There was a deep deep blue sky, and deep blue lake (but still with white snow and ice on it). There was deep green leaves and grasses. And deep yellow everywhere. Autumn leaves on the ground even alongside the green leaves. Golden sunlight coming through the trees. I mean, it was beautiful! Also, I flew a LOT. I flew by using... like the size of a book. I held it in my hands and let it catch the wind. If I wanted to go in any direction I'd change it's angle. If I wanted to go lower, I'd straighten it vertically. If I wanted to slow down, I'd flatten it.
The dream was based around the backyard of my parent's home. I flew over the lake. I flew around our backyard. It was sooooo perfect and rich and beautiful. The plot was minimal. I was avoiding Sarah, trying to eavesdrop on her as she walked with a group of girls to a building that was either a college class building or an apartment building. I landed on the roof. Green and gold painted roof. Scary because high. There was a trap door on it, that I opened. But it just opened into an elevator shaft. I got off there quick, it kind of scared me. She never saw me because I was flying above her. It was the easiest time I've ever had flying.
Anyway, when I first entered the backyard and everything was summer and so detailed, I remembered the last time something was so detailed and I made a note of it. It was when I reached out and touched a tree. When my dad told me the challenge yesterday of the hands, I told him about that time I'd seen my hand touching the perfectly real tree. So that made me think of the hands, and I remembered, and I did it.
It was weird! My hand would be perfectly normal. Then I'd start trying to lift my fingers one by one. I almost always got an extra one between my middle finger and pointer finger. Not one I could see. But I'd finish counting to five by the time I got to the pointer finger, and then the thumb would try to be six. A couple times I got it all right. But it took some concentration. I also had some rodeo scenes stamped into my hand in five small places, on the left hand. Someone by the name of Munarde Buffalo or something was the artist.
I also, along with Lee, tried to keep some stupid park boys from messing up our backyard. In the sandbox they were trying to put concrete foundations. They had cage wire all over, like for their own garden. They were mad at us for throwing it all out, and we just pointed out it was our yard. They also were trying to make us feel bad about the fence tilting and falling over, said it was from the mud on the outside. We informed them that it was actually from the sand built up on the inside due to a sprinkler breaking and flooding earlier, and then the snow pushed it down. (actually, it was wind in real life, then snow later). And.... I mean, flying was almost easy. And the colors were so real. I could feel the dream ending when the colors faded back to winter quality. I mostly just spent the dream flying around admiring the colors and detail and scenery and flying success. Not much plot. I was too aware of dreaming for there to be much story. It was just consciously enjoying the dream and what I could see. When I was waking up, I sang a song praising God for the beauty I had just been given and allowed to see.
It WAS beautiful. I wish I were an artist so I could share it all. Absolutely amazing.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Dream challenge
I've been challenged to look at my hand while dreaming. And then to lift one finger, then two, then three, etc. and see if I can do it. Apparently it's some sort of lucid dreaming test?
It will probably take several nights before I remember this during a dream. But I'll keep trying, and I should remember at some point. We'll see what happens then.
It will probably take several nights before I remember this during a dream. But I'll keep trying, and I should remember at some point. We'll see what happens then.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Dream; Secondhand Marijuana Smoke. Bedspreads.
At work in real life, they gave us a written notice about how they can ask us to get drug tested or search for drugs on our desks and stuff. I signed it and turned it in, it will be absolutely no problem for me. I've never been high, never tried any illegal drug, never been drunk, and don't even smoke. As for marijuana, I hate the way it smells beyond description. I have no problem with a drug test.
In the dream everything fell apart.
Bree was using medical marijuana. Often I told her it smelled awful and to please take it to the bathroom and close the door and turn the fan on, since those were the rules. But of course sometimes the smell still comes into the house. And I started to worry; will this affect my drug test? When I told our administrative assistant at work sarcastically and teasingly that "I have a real problem with this rule," and she said, "Yeah, alcohol is a problem in my family too," and completely missed my point that it will be no problem at all for me, was that because some days she thought she smelled marijuana on me and suspected me.
So I came in and one day, they were searching my desk. But when I walked in, they all acted guilty and wouldn't admit that's what they'd been doing. Even though the entire office was there watching, like it was amusing entertainment. But none of them would tell me what was going on. Then one of them took out a sensor and moved it around the desk, claiming he was checking for cell phone coverage, which was, for real (for real in the dream that is) very low around the vicinity of my desk. I realized I had a problem.
I was trying to remember in the dream, did I ever mention to my ex-roommate from rich-family-spoiled-educated-arrogant-hell that my sister used medical marijuana. This girl is very very ambitious and will scratch and claw her way into positions and even try to get others laid off to get there. If I had told her about my sister Bree with marijuana, she might very well spread the rumor around that I used it. No wonder I was the first person they suspected! They probably even handed out the notices at work specifically because of me! They probably thought I was so tired not because of a minor sickness, but because of drugs! I got frustrated that day not because my coworker was yelling at me unfairly, but because of drugs! I smelled of drugs! And no wonder I am always eating and eating and eating at work. No one would believe it was because I didn't eat much while actually at home. Everyone knew all about me! In their eyes, I was a druggie!
Of course I knew they'd ask me to get a drug test. So I decided to test it, because I was suddenly terrified about secondhand marijuana smoke and what it would do in the testing phase. I went to a small set up outside of the grocery store where they did free sample testing for drugs. Why not, right? I took it. My score was 79. The limit was 90. 341 or something like that would mean you'd been doing lots of drugs. It was one of the limits. But if you reached 90, you were considered positive for the drug test. So I was not at 90, but still kind of high. Clearly the secondhand smoke had an affect.
So I headed off to see Bree and let her know she just had to be more careful around me, or I could get fired from my job! Because how could I prove I did no drugs? No one would believe it was my legally medical marijuana family member, because of the gossip and rumors spread by the evil coworker. So she just had to be careful. I went to talk to her about it, at the top of the hill, and she just got angry at me. She used a few puffs right then and there on some funky hooka machine/asthma treatment machine and just looked at me and told me, "You can't even smell it right now!" which was true. She did that three or four times. I finally just left, horrified, and decided I just had to avoid her. I did want to see if that had had any affect on me though.
So I headed back to the test table at the grocery store. I took the test again. Sure enough, now the score was 86. Definitely higher. Definitely dangerously close to 90. I was horrified to learn that the secondhand smoke ruined my testing chances, even when I couldn't smell it. And that Bree didn't care and would not be careful for me. And then I noticed the testing table workers up to something. They informed me that when someone is as high as 86, even though it's not 90, it's close enough to merit closer testing and that they were obligated to call the police, who were now on their way to arrest me.
Now I would definitely get fired. How could I ever convince them I did not do drugs if it all went so far as to get me arrested by the police?? I was so mad. Funny how I never would dream of doing any drugs, but they made that new drug test policy at work specifically in regards to me, and now I was getting arrested! I was only trying to see what would happen if I took a real drug test! Now these little test table folks were getting me to go to jail for drugs I never actually did!
I kept reminding myself that when I woke up, I just had to look into secondhand marijuana smoke, because probably they did smell it on me in real life and probably it was made for me, and probably that's why the administrative assistant misunderstood my joke! Now that I'm awake, I'm definitely not worried. But man, I told myself to remember. I was quite worried.
I also had a dream in a department store. I hate department stores. I was there with my mom. This store, to all horror, had not one or two levels, but three! I was glancing around for the dresses, never did really find them. I think I had to sneak to another level and turn on the light. Anyway, I was also searching frantically for a new bed spread, and looking through all the cheap ones on clearance. Most of them were quilts, which was sad. Or they were for bigger beds than mine. There was an adventure going on around all of this. Unfortunately I seem to have forgotten it. Stuff in the dark rooms of the big department store.
I remember that there were two dreams I really wanted to remember. The first was the secondhand marijuana problems. But that ended when I woke up and visited the bathroom. Then I went back to bed and I had another plot-filled dream, and wanted to remember it. But when I got to the waking point of "wake now and remember this, or sleep in and probably forget it," I really wanted to sleep in. It's like too little and too much sleep can both make me forget the dream, and I have a point where I can make that choice to wake up or not, depending on how much I want to record it. I decided today to take my chances. And I remembered one of two, so not too bad.
In the dream everything fell apart.
Bree was using medical marijuana. Often I told her it smelled awful and to please take it to the bathroom and close the door and turn the fan on, since those were the rules. But of course sometimes the smell still comes into the house. And I started to worry; will this affect my drug test? When I told our administrative assistant at work sarcastically and teasingly that "I have a real problem with this rule," and she said, "Yeah, alcohol is a problem in my family too," and completely missed my point that it will be no problem at all for me, was that because some days she thought she smelled marijuana on me and suspected me.
So I came in and one day, they were searching my desk. But when I walked in, they all acted guilty and wouldn't admit that's what they'd been doing. Even though the entire office was there watching, like it was amusing entertainment. But none of them would tell me what was going on. Then one of them took out a sensor and moved it around the desk, claiming he was checking for cell phone coverage, which was, for real (for real in the dream that is) very low around the vicinity of my desk. I realized I had a problem.
I was trying to remember in the dream, did I ever mention to my ex-roommate from rich-family-spoiled-educated-arrogant-hell that my sister used medical marijuana. This girl is very very ambitious and will scratch and claw her way into positions and even try to get others laid off to get there. If I had told her about my sister Bree with marijuana, she might very well spread the rumor around that I used it. No wonder I was the first person they suspected! They probably even handed out the notices at work specifically because of me! They probably thought I was so tired not because of a minor sickness, but because of drugs! I got frustrated that day not because my coworker was yelling at me unfairly, but because of drugs! I smelled of drugs! And no wonder I am always eating and eating and eating at work. No one would believe it was because I didn't eat much while actually at home. Everyone knew all about me! In their eyes, I was a druggie!
Of course I knew they'd ask me to get a drug test. So I decided to test it, because I was suddenly terrified about secondhand marijuana smoke and what it would do in the testing phase. I went to a small set up outside of the grocery store where they did free sample testing for drugs. Why not, right? I took it. My score was 79. The limit was 90. 341 or something like that would mean you'd been doing lots of drugs. It was one of the limits. But if you reached 90, you were considered positive for the drug test. So I was not at 90, but still kind of high. Clearly the secondhand smoke had an affect.
So I headed off to see Bree and let her know she just had to be more careful around me, or I could get fired from my job! Because how could I prove I did no drugs? No one would believe it was my legally medical marijuana family member, because of the gossip and rumors spread by the evil coworker. So she just had to be careful. I went to talk to her about it, at the top of the hill, and she just got angry at me. She used a few puffs right then and there on some funky hooka machine/asthma treatment machine and just looked at me and told me, "You can't even smell it right now!" which was true. She did that three or four times. I finally just left, horrified, and decided I just had to avoid her. I did want to see if that had had any affect on me though.
So I headed back to the test table at the grocery store. I took the test again. Sure enough, now the score was 86. Definitely higher. Definitely dangerously close to 90. I was horrified to learn that the secondhand smoke ruined my testing chances, even when I couldn't smell it. And that Bree didn't care and would not be careful for me. And then I noticed the testing table workers up to something. They informed me that when someone is as high as 86, even though it's not 90, it's close enough to merit closer testing and that they were obligated to call the police, who were now on their way to arrest me.
Now I would definitely get fired. How could I ever convince them I did not do drugs if it all went so far as to get me arrested by the police?? I was so mad. Funny how I never would dream of doing any drugs, but they made that new drug test policy at work specifically in regards to me, and now I was getting arrested! I was only trying to see what would happen if I took a real drug test! Now these little test table folks were getting me to go to jail for drugs I never actually did!
I kept reminding myself that when I woke up, I just had to look into secondhand marijuana smoke, because probably they did smell it on me in real life and probably it was made for me, and probably that's why the administrative assistant misunderstood my joke! Now that I'm awake, I'm definitely not worried. But man, I told myself to remember. I was quite worried.
I also had a dream in a department store. I hate department stores. I was there with my mom. This store, to all horror, had not one or two levels, but three! I was glancing around for the dresses, never did really find them. I think I had to sneak to another level and turn on the light. Anyway, I was also searching frantically for a new bed spread, and looking through all the cheap ones on clearance. Most of them were quilts, which was sad. Or they were for bigger beds than mine. There was an adventure going on around all of this. Unfortunately I seem to have forgotten it. Stuff in the dark rooms of the big department store.
I remember that there were two dreams I really wanted to remember. The first was the secondhand marijuana problems. But that ended when I woke up and visited the bathroom. Then I went back to bed and I had another plot-filled dream, and wanted to remember it. But when I got to the waking point of "wake now and remember this, or sleep in and probably forget it," I really wanted to sleep in. It's like too little and too much sleep can both make me forget the dream, and I have a point where I can make that choice to wake up or not, depending on how much I want to record it. I decided today to take my chances. And I remembered one of two, so not too bad.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Dream; Aide to President-elect
There were elections of some kind around my neighborhood.
Oh. First, I was with a boy from another culture, and we had to keep any relationship secret from the rest of his people, and so he'd try to sneak off with me, always very close to me physically as we walked, and I'd keep my distance from him, like a game almost, in the outdoors in the snow at night near my home, in the parking lot. It was snow that was a few days old, had been driven on, melted, refrozen, etc. so you had patches of dry road, patches of ice, patches of stiff snow. I'd run around, the feel of running was wonderful. Good thing too. A nosy neighbor and his mom both followed us outside. She liked that I was trustworthy and wasn't off cuddling with him or something. For some reason that got his mom reading a book about Christianity. A book I never read, and felt somewhat apprehensive about regarding it's quality... it looked pretty bad actually. But she wanted to read it.
Anyway, then this neighborhood elected new officials (for our country). We had someone who would be president. There was one point at which I realized that it was irrational to think an official elected by one neighborhood would be president of the country, so then it temporarily changed to him being our district's nominee for our party... still a little weird. Anyway, he soon went back to being the president-elect.
Anyway, at one of the meetings, he kneeled down to pray and be prayed over by the neighborhood. Obama showed up and came over and stopped them/us, and wouldn't let us pray. I started quoting George Washington's Farewell Address to him and everyone around in a loud voice, the bits about how if someone is not a Christian and tries to divorce religion from government, he is not a patriot.
"Of all the dispositions and habits, which lead to political prosperity, Religion and Morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of Men and Citizens. The mere Politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connexions with private and public felicity. Let it simply be asked, Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in Courts of Justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition, that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect, that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."
I mean, I don't have it memorized. But it was a dream, so in dream world I had it dream memorized.
Obama actually threw something at me to stop me from talking. I told him I can accept other religions as patriots, but someone who will not even give people the freedom to pray in public if they want to is no citizen. He was pissed. Especially since what was he supposed to do? Badmouth Washington?? It was a quote. Not just my own opinion. Yep. He was one pissed off fellow.
But then, after he left, I got a phone call from him. It was a flattering call, and he asked me to be the chief of his fire department. It was like bodyguards, but to prevent fires that might occur around him. It was a very real honor. Ah, dreams. Gotta love 'em. My sister Lee was thrilled! She said, "Oh, he admires you after all." I knew better. He hated me, and wanted me on his side, because I and my words were a threat he didn't want to have to fight. He wanted me to join him, instead of having to fight against me. I wasn't thrilled and had absolutely no intention of joining him. I kept telling my sister Lee that I would find a quote for her from the book Unwind by Neil Schusterman, about a guy who was playing politics, and how I had to be smarter than to fall for this trick. I'll find the quote when I find that book... In the dream I never could find the correct page in order to read the quote. It's where Risa is trying to explain to Connor just how dangerous Roland is, and pointing out the politics he is subtly weaving around all of them. I was showing my sister, to prove to her that I was in danger, and not that Obama liked me.
I was then asked to be an aide to the president-elect, who was also black coincidentally, and would take over the presidency in June/July. That's when that happens, you know. Of course I was thrilled to accept that offer. I realized with sadness though that that meant I only had until June/July before I'd be leaving my life and my job that I love and moving to Washington DC (which I also loved when I visited in real life... there is something about that city that is just.... absolutely insane. Quiet classic architecture and gardens that fill you with peace, with a bustling crime-filled helicopter-filled noisiness that just makes you want to pull your teeth out... it intrigued me) or sometimes another country, depending on where the need was for me to be. And I knew I needed to avoid Obama until then, for my own safety. I also seemed, in the dream, to know several celebrities, and occasionally eat lunch with them. I didn't much care about it. I also didn't have my hair like all the young female aides, and they wouldn't give me a second glance. I didn't fit in when it came to fashion. I also didn't care about that much. I figured to fit into the culture I might as well get a haircut in a few months, but who cared for now?
Anyway, our neighborhood guy was president-elect.
Oh. First, I was with a boy from another culture, and we had to keep any relationship secret from the rest of his people, and so he'd try to sneak off with me, always very close to me physically as we walked, and I'd keep my distance from him, like a game almost, in the outdoors in the snow at night near my home, in the parking lot. It was snow that was a few days old, had been driven on, melted, refrozen, etc. so you had patches of dry road, patches of ice, patches of stiff snow. I'd run around, the feel of running was wonderful. Good thing too. A nosy neighbor and his mom both followed us outside. She liked that I was trustworthy and wasn't off cuddling with him or something. For some reason that got his mom reading a book about Christianity. A book I never read, and felt somewhat apprehensive about regarding it's quality... it looked pretty bad actually. But she wanted to read it.
Anyway, then this neighborhood elected new officials (for our country). We had someone who would be president. There was one point at which I realized that it was irrational to think an official elected by one neighborhood would be president of the country, so then it temporarily changed to him being our district's nominee for our party... still a little weird. Anyway, he soon went back to being the president-elect.
Anyway, at one of the meetings, he kneeled down to pray and be prayed over by the neighborhood. Obama showed up and came over and stopped them/us, and wouldn't let us pray. I started quoting George Washington's Farewell Address to him and everyone around in a loud voice, the bits about how if someone is not a Christian and tries to divorce religion from government, he is not a patriot.
"Of all the dispositions and habits, which lead to political prosperity, Religion and Morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of Men and Citizens. The mere Politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connexions with private and public felicity. Let it simply be asked, Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in Courts of Justice? And let us with caution indulge the supposition, that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect, that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle."
I mean, I don't have it memorized. But it was a dream, so in dream world I had it dream memorized.
Obama actually threw something at me to stop me from talking. I told him I can accept other religions as patriots, but someone who will not even give people the freedom to pray in public if they want to is no citizen. He was pissed. Especially since what was he supposed to do? Badmouth Washington?? It was a quote. Not just my own opinion. Yep. He was one pissed off fellow.
But then, after he left, I got a phone call from him. It was a flattering call, and he asked me to be the chief of his fire department. It was like bodyguards, but to prevent fires that might occur around him. It was a very real honor. Ah, dreams. Gotta love 'em. My sister Lee was thrilled! She said, "Oh, he admires you after all." I knew better. He hated me, and wanted me on his side, because I and my words were a threat he didn't want to have to fight. He wanted me to join him, instead of having to fight against me. I wasn't thrilled and had absolutely no intention of joining him. I kept telling my sister Lee that I would find a quote for her from the book Unwind by Neil Schusterman, about a guy who was playing politics, and how I had to be smarter than to fall for this trick. I'll find the quote when I find that book... In the dream I never could find the correct page in order to read the quote. It's where Risa is trying to explain to Connor just how dangerous Roland is, and pointing out the politics he is subtly weaving around all of them. I was showing my sister, to prove to her that I was in danger, and not that Obama liked me.
I was then asked to be an aide to the president-elect, who was also black coincidentally, and would take over the presidency in June/July. That's when that happens, you know. Of course I was thrilled to accept that offer. I realized with sadness though that that meant I only had until June/July before I'd be leaving my life and my job that I love and moving to Washington DC (which I also loved when I visited in real life... there is something about that city that is just.... absolutely insane. Quiet classic architecture and gardens that fill you with peace, with a bustling crime-filled helicopter-filled noisiness that just makes you want to pull your teeth out... it intrigued me) or sometimes another country, depending on where the need was for me to be. And I knew I needed to avoid Obama until then, for my own safety. I also seemed, in the dream, to know several celebrities, and occasionally eat lunch with them. I didn't much care about it. I also didn't have my hair like all the young female aides, and they wouldn't give me a second glance. I didn't fit in when it came to fashion. I also didn't care about that much. I figured to fit into the culture I might as well get a haircut in a few months, but who cared for now?
Anyway, our neighborhood guy was president-elect.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Dream; Alien war tactic-- human blindness. Grocery store. Crocheting problem-solving.
I was a human who knew about a plot by a bunch of human looking aliens to take over. Me and my friends had been at this for a while, and we had all been changed in some way. The young man I was friends with, he had been turned by friendly aliens into someone who could switch his own form between the two species, while the real aliens had to just cover themselves with our skin. Yes, this is completely based on that V TV show. I haven't been able to watch it this season, and I guess I want to know what happens, so I'm making it up myself in my dreams. But the characters are all different and the aliens are different and there is a small third set of alien that looks like it's more from Stargate Universe than V.
Anyway, I seemed to have turned into someone who could know what was going on, figure out all of the plans, be prepared for the next bit.
The part of their plan to take over that we were at at this point was when they blinded everyone. They had a gigantic bright light in the sky, some sort of non-destructive explosion or something, that was so bright it destroyed the eyes of everyone. I knew about it, and I was able to close and cover my eyes and hide them into the ground. Even then I could still see light through my hands and eyes, and everything still seemed dark at first right after, but at the least I didn't go blind and my eyes recovered. I had another person with me who also was able to save their eyesight.
The friend who could change form was up on a spaceship at the beginning with a set of good aliens on another ship who wanted to help us. He didn't choose to be able to change form. He somehow accidentally got injected with something or some of their blood or a germ or something. But he could control it mostly and it was useful, so yeah. When he was around aliens in their own natural form, he automatically changed and was unable to control it. If only humans, he also changed to human and couldn't control it. Kind of chameleon-esque. I don't know if it was him or a girl who saved her eyesight along with me.
We were in some downtown-esque city again, I almost got pulled over by an undercover cop. But for some reason he turned the other way after I pulled off.
After I and I think this other girl, after we were the only two humans that could still see, the aliens just started assuming that we were aliens as well. They did plan to have another light flash at an unexpected time just to get rid of people like me. But I knew about it and with my ability to know what would happen, I would know when it happened. I planned to be inside this time, it would be easier. Down in a basement with no windows.
So I decided to go home. I was at our neighbor's house across the street, hiding out in the garage. There were these small cute alien looking aliens who were playing some kind of seemingly pointless game from some gel-like balls they had. I don't know if they could intelligently help us fight, or not. But it was their presence that made me have my strange insight into all that was happening and who everyone really was, human or alien.
So I ran home across the street, pretending to be an alien to all the aliens I met on the way. I jumped high over the sideway and was going to do some fancy jump, but ended up only doing a tuck jump because I thought people might be watching me. I landed on my feet and quickly fell, laughing at myself. Random bit of the dream. One of the stronger images I remember.
Goodness. It's like TV dream. Next dream to play in was Caprica. In Caprica, I didn't watch much of it, but I know there was this 'family' that had multiple husbands and multiple wives. I went to a home in my own dream that had that type of family. One of the wives was an alien from the bad side. She was a very pretty petite wavy curly haired young woman, very pretty and very gentle. She ended up being very devoted to this family and had changed sides to human. I was still a bit worried about her, but not badly.
I was preparing for the next flash when the dream ended. Two more flashes and they'd assume anyone able to see would be alien. They'd be able to take over our planet. And I and my two friends would continue to fight them.
At some point I also had a dream about shopping in a grocery store. There is a popular grocery chain around here, and they've been upgrading their stores the last few years. This one was by my house, and they'd upgraded it. The vegetables figured prominently in the store... I like shopping for veggies. And my debit card wasn't working very well, kind of bent and cracking. But it worked when I turned it.
I thought this grocery bit was the only dream I had for about fifteen minutes after waking and wasn't going to write it down. It wasn't until I started reading Unicorns in the Rain by Barbara Cohen and got to a bit about something small inside a shopping bag moving around that I remembered the small balls the cute aliens were playing with and the rest of the dream came back. I know that small alive thing in the bag is an exotic hamster, because I read the story a long long time ago. We lost the book, and I always wanted to read it again. I finally bought it. This is all real life. Anyway, it brought back this other dream, at least bits of it. As always there was a LOT more that happened, full of plot, and I can't remember it. My dreams are so rich, I write a lot even when I remember only a small fraction of it. At least even when I can't remember it all, I can still remember how much I enjoyed being in the story (that I now can't recall).
I also in real life am thread crocheting a scarf. Or trying. I'm kind of making it up as I go, and trying to keep it simple. The thing about crocheting back and forth though with gaps between stitches is that without a pattern it can be a little tricky to keep it the same width across the entire length of your stitching. It can taper off, in a way. I couldn't figure out last night how to keep the edges straight. I then figured it out in my dream before I woke up. In real life, I am now crocheting what is looking to be a perfectly decent scarf of some as of yet unknown finished appearance. Maybe I'll post a picture at some point? Who knows.
Anyway, I seemed to have turned into someone who could know what was going on, figure out all of the plans, be prepared for the next bit.
The part of their plan to take over that we were at at this point was when they blinded everyone. They had a gigantic bright light in the sky, some sort of non-destructive explosion or something, that was so bright it destroyed the eyes of everyone. I knew about it, and I was able to close and cover my eyes and hide them into the ground. Even then I could still see light through my hands and eyes, and everything still seemed dark at first right after, but at the least I didn't go blind and my eyes recovered. I had another person with me who also was able to save their eyesight.
The friend who could change form was up on a spaceship at the beginning with a set of good aliens on another ship who wanted to help us. He didn't choose to be able to change form. He somehow accidentally got injected with something or some of their blood or a germ or something. But he could control it mostly and it was useful, so yeah. When he was around aliens in their own natural form, he automatically changed and was unable to control it. If only humans, he also changed to human and couldn't control it. Kind of chameleon-esque. I don't know if it was him or a girl who saved her eyesight along with me.
We were in some downtown-esque city again, I almost got pulled over by an undercover cop. But for some reason he turned the other way after I pulled off.
After I and I think this other girl, after we were the only two humans that could still see, the aliens just started assuming that we were aliens as well. They did plan to have another light flash at an unexpected time just to get rid of people like me. But I knew about it and with my ability to know what would happen, I would know when it happened. I planned to be inside this time, it would be easier. Down in a basement with no windows.
So I decided to go home. I was at our neighbor's house across the street, hiding out in the garage. There were these small cute alien looking aliens who were playing some kind of seemingly pointless game from some gel-like balls they had. I don't know if they could intelligently help us fight, or not. But it was their presence that made me have my strange insight into all that was happening and who everyone really was, human or alien.
So I ran home across the street, pretending to be an alien to all the aliens I met on the way. I jumped high over the sideway and was going to do some fancy jump, but ended up only doing a tuck jump because I thought people might be watching me. I landed on my feet and quickly fell, laughing at myself. Random bit of the dream. One of the stronger images I remember.
Goodness. It's like TV dream. Next dream to play in was Caprica. In Caprica, I didn't watch much of it, but I know there was this 'family' that had multiple husbands and multiple wives. I went to a home in my own dream that had that type of family. One of the wives was an alien from the bad side. She was a very pretty petite wavy curly haired young woman, very pretty and very gentle. She ended up being very devoted to this family and had changed sides to human. I was still a bit worried about her, but not badly.
I was preparing for the next flash when the dream ended. Two more flashes and they'd assume anyone able to see would be alien. They'd be able to take over our planet. And I and my two friends would continue to fight them.
At some point I also had a dream about shopping in a grocery store. There is a popular grocery chain around here, and they've been upgrading their stores the last few years. This one was by my house, and they'd upgraded it. The vegetables figured prominently in the store... I like shopping for veggies. And my debit card wasn't working very well, kind of bent and cracking. But it worked when I turned it.
I thought this grocery bit was the only dream I had for about fifteen minutes after waking and wasn't going to write it down. It wasn't until I started reading Unicorns in the Rain by Barbara Cohen and got to a bit about something small inside a shopping bag moving around that I remembered the small balls the cute aliens were playing with and the rest of the dream came back. I know that small alive thing in the bag is an exotic hamster, because I read the story a long long time ago. We lost the book, and I always wanted to read it again. I finally bought it. This is all real life. Anyway, it brought back this other dream, at least bits of it. As always there was a LOT more that happened, full of plot, and I can't remember it. My dreams are so rich, I write a lot even when I remember only a small fraction of it. At least even when I can't remember it all, I can still remember how much I enjoyed being in the story (that I now can't recall).
I also in real life am thread crocheting a scarf. Or trying. I'm kind of making it up as I go, and trying to keep it simple. The thing about crocheting back and forth though with gaps between stitches is that without a pattern it can be a little tricky to keep it the same width across the entire length of your stitching. It can taper off, in a way. I couldn't figure out last night how to keep the edges straight. I then figured it out in my dream before I woke up. In real life, I am now crocheting what is looking to be a perfectly decent scarf of some as of yet unknown finished appearance. Maybe I'll post a picture at some point? Who knows.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Dream; Downtown shopping and hospital visit
I seemed to be out on the town with a boy/man. This boy man was, in dream fashion, many things at once, contradictory things, all rolled into one. He was, as stated, a boy at times, and a man at times. He was my brother at times, and my old alzheimer's client I helped care for a few years ago during what was probably very close to the end of his life. We were shopping around just for kicks in downtown. I wandered off and found an entire floor devoted to fancy ballroom and prom dresses. It rarely happens, but sometimes it does, and at this time, I felt in the mood to try some on. I only got to one. It was pink with a dark blue transparent cloth draped around it, with green transparent wrapped sideways around the waist, with shiny pink and blue and purple butterflies embroidered in the green, and also some in that blue. It was a one-piece dress. But of course it was three pieces when I tried it on. First I put on the skirt, just out in the open. I had to pull the transparent pieces around me, because they were bunched at the front for storage. And by this time, when I went to try on the top, it had morphed into a separate piece, and it was just plain white with two shoulder straps and one neck strap, and it was kind of see-through, and my brother who actually now was a boy interested in me and not related to me (so three in one so far) had showed up and wanted me to change in front of him but I went to the changing room. Unfortunately I had no strapless bra, so I had to leave my undershirt on to try it on, and it messed up the entire look, and it was just cheap looking white for a shirt anyway. By this point I didn't like the dress anymore. It wasn't till we left that I remembered what it had originally been, and imagined it on me instead of trying it on me; it was almost just as satisfactory.
We left, and at some point in the dream, we were walking down the street in downtown, and I was under a pavilion or overhang of some kind, but this boy/man got ahead of me. There was a sudden downpour of enormous tennis ball sized hail, and someone screamed because their child or something was killed, and I looked around and my boy/guy (who seemed like a small child to me right then in the dream) was nowhere around me, so I ran out and searched for him. I found him sitting on a street with his knees pulled up and he was stunned, with white hail sitting around everyone. He seemed to have been hit on the forehead. He also seemed like a small boy, my brother my age, and my Alzheimer's patient wandered off, all at once. I took him to a doctor, and they saw him. On the way he got hit in the head with a tennis or baseball too. So we got there and I asked them to check for a concussion. They took a measuring tape to his head. No X-ray. I was irritated. But then they told me, "Yeah, he seems bad enough, you should take him up to floor 5 to have him checked out." So this was just a screeening area. You could tell the hospital was trying to save funds.
We got up there and I had to really stress that he had been hit in the head by hail, and by a baseball, and was stunned, and look at this big bump on his head that just appeared in my dream that must have been what they were measuring downstairs, before they would see him. There was something about government insurance only paying for two health problems per person per year. They were really stingy with their medicine.
Anyway, they asked me for some information regarding his treatment, and I had to go back downstairs to find out for them. But the elevator was so slow. So I gave it up and decided, in my worry and with how hurried I felt, to take the stairs. I got whatever I needed (and can't now remember) from the first floor (actually now I think it was the second). I ran up the stairs. The third floor was empty. I ran up the stairs. The fourth floor was empty and wide open and housed giant bronze statues or mannequins stored lying on their back, just a few in a few spots on the mostly empty floor. I remember thinking, "this is what hospitals do with unused floors"... actually in real life there is a new hospital that took a while to get all of the floors and wings into use, so that's why I thought that in the dream. I finally got back upstairs.
Later the dream was weird. It was like I was in a room, but the rooms kept changing. Like you could change rooms the same way you can change internet web pages. Sometimes you stumbled into other's rooms, but no matter. There was someone boiling potatoes, and I accidentally put a bunch of chopped celery into the pot. Which was also a blender. Except I had to add a bunch of pepper and salt to the blend and stir it by hand to mix it. It was going to be fed to people in another changeable room, which was an airplane and this was airplane food. Even though it was ruined. There were no consequences for me. I tried to make it as good as possible, but mashed potatoe and celery... ugh.
I don't remember much else. I actually only remembered a vision of the potato/celery blender bit when I woke up, and thought that was stupid. The rest came back to me about five minutes after waking up, and I realized it was interesting enough to record. I wasn't going to record the potato mixed with celery.
There were other things that I can almost but not quite recall, kind of irritating. But oh well.
We left, and at some point in the dream, we were walking down the street in downtown, and I was under a pavilion or overhang of some kind, but this boy/man got ahead of me. There was a sudden downpour of enormous tennis ball sized hail, and someone screamed because their child or something was killed, and I looked around and my boy/guy (who seemed like a small child to me right then in the dream) was nowhere around me, so I ran out and searched for him. I found him sitting on a street with his knees pulled up and he was stunned, with white hail sitting around everyone. He seemed to have been hit on the forehead. He also seemed like a small boy, my brother my age, and my Alzheimer's patient wandered off, all at once. I took him to a doctor, and they saw him. On the way he got hit in the head with a tennis or baseball too. So we got there and I asked them to check for a concussion. They took a measuring tape to his head. No X-ray. I was irritated. But then they told me, "Yeah, he seems bad enough, you should take him up to floor 5 to have him checked out." So this was just a screeening area. You could tell the hospital was trying to save funds.
We got up there and I had to really stress that he had been hit in the head by hail, and by a baseball, and was stunned, and look at this big bump on his head that just appeared in my dream that must have been what they were measuring downstairs, before they would see him. There was something about government insurance only paying for two health problems per person per year. They were really stingy with their medicine.
Anyway, they asked me for some information regarding his treatment, and I had to go back downstairs to find out for them. But the elevator was so slow. So I gave it up and decided, in my worry and with how hurried I felt, to take the stairs. I got whatever I needed (and can't now remember) from the first floor (actually now I think it was the second). I ran up the stairs. The third floor was empty. I ran up the stairs. The fourth floor was empty and wide open and housed giant bronze statues or mannequins stored lying on their back, just a few in a few spots on the mostly empty floor. I remember thinking, "this is what hospitals do with unused floors"... actually in real life there is a new hospital that took a while to get all of the floors and wings into use, so that's why I thought that in the dream. I finally got back upstairs.
Later the dream was weird. It was like I was in a room, but the rooms kept changing. Like you could change rooms the same way you can change internet web pages. Sometimes you stumbled into other's rooms, but no matter. There was someone boiling potatoes, and I accidentally put a bunch of chopped celery into the pot. Which was also a blender. Except I had to add a bunch of pepper and salt to the blend and stir it by hand to mix it. It was going to be fed to people in another changeable room, which was an airplane and this was airplane food. Even though it was ruined. There were no consequences for me. I tried to make it as good as possible, but mashed potatoe and celery... ugh.
I don't remember much else. I actually only remembered a vision of the potato/celery blender bit when I woke up, and thought that was stupid. The rest came back to me about five minutes after waking up, and I realized it was interesting enough to record. I wasn't going to record the potato mixed with celery.
There were other things that I can almost but not quite recall, kind of irritating. But oh well.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Two dreams; sister road trip. love on the road.
The first dream was a road trip. My youngest sister Bree and I were both going together, and we took separate cars. She followed me in mine. We took a road East a long way, out into the country, which was spring and quite green. Then we turned off onto this sort of side road, it was crooked and went Northeast. Then we came to a North South running road, and turned left onto it, heading North. This road was called Whitehead Rd. I had a map, so I was watching out the window, and also periodically looking at the map. There were trees, lots of wide fields, all of it green. The roads were dirt.
As it started to get darker, while we were recently turned down Whitehead, Bree needed to go to the bathroom. In the middle of nowhere. So we pulled off the side of the road where there wasn't a house, and made a sort of block with the cars. My car on the left, hers on the right, we opened my front right door and her front left door to make the front 'wall' and my back door with me standing there to make the back wall, and she went to the bathroom where no one could see. A couple of cars passed in the dark, but she had her privacy. One of the cars heading south though turned around and pulled up behind us as she was finishing. It was a cop or sheriff in his patrol car.
Bree is the one who can talk herself out of cop trouble, so I let her talk to him. She wandered over to his side of the car. He opened the door though and was not friendly. "It's illegal to park here!" he told us, and was going to give us a ticket. "Also, I'm going to have to tow that one," I heard as I sat in my driver seat, and he said it about my sister's car. She looked at him. "What??" she said. Then she lost it. "No!" she screamed. But she was trying not to lose control, so instead of a high pitched scream, it was low pitched. I reached up and gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards me. "Calm down, wait here," and I went to talk to him as he muttered something about, "Better call your parents," and I caught on that Bree hadn't told my parents she was using this car for the drive, and they must have reported it stolen. Of course there was no cell phone service in the area, so he was being cruel. As he walked between the two cars (now that I think of it, where she peed. funny, didn't think of that till now, awake), I saw a bright red flash in the sky off to my right over the field. It was quick, and very red. But small. Like a star or a planet, and it did not light up the entire sky. It left a star-ish light in the sky, and no one else saw it. It was a little worrisome.
Unfortunately at that point I woke up. Middle of the night bathroom break.
When I went back to bed, I had another dream. This time, I was with our entire family. We were still out in the countryside, picking our way down the road, stepping over toys and stuff under tall cottonwood trees as we walked through a neighborhood. A very sparse neighborhood with houses on only one side of the road, and fields all around. A little farther north on Whitehead. We came to a family owned restaurant, and it was packed. Sunday afternoon I think. We went in and ate. I had eggs, and then a pancake until I realized it was a pancake and had wheat which I guess I shouldn't eat these days. So I didn't finish that. But the food was exquisite. Our waiter came out at the end, and was refilling my cup. A young man, not too shabby looking. When he refilled my cup, he put his arms around both sides of me, and I thought that was just their way of doing it in these parts, but then he put his mouth right up to my ear, and I realized he liked me. Thing was, in the dream, it wasn't creepy at all. Partly because you could tell if people in these parts liked someone, it was only one person. He wouldn't be doing it to anyone else. It was also something we laughed at in the dream, and I poked his face trying to teasingly push him away, because I felt a little uncomfortable and embarrassed around my family and so I pushed my finger into his cheek or neck and held it there. Didn't phase him though it should have hurt. My dad took a picture of us like that.
Anyway, the restaurant closed. I came back later, while he was cleaning. He was young, but worked the tables, but also he partly owned the restaurant with his family, and was really responsible at taking care of it. He was a homeschooled Christian, and his family brought me into their kitchen and told me that he always does what God tells him to do, and that I was exactly the type of girl he wanted to marry, and I was the one he was going to marry, and God had told him to. Would NOT go over well in real life, but in the dream, it was believable that he really was a prophet of some kind... not just believable. In the dream, he really was. And I just knew that. Anyway, I didn't react much to their declaration, but I believed it, and he had already started to win my heart with his mouth near my ear thing and with him just having proved to be a great young man. He was, in the dream.
I stuck around the restaurant trying to learn the ropes and help cook things. I'd be cooking and they'd already be eating. OH! So my old roommate came in with her new follower, and I was in the kitchen while he was talking with them. They didn't know I was there. They were talking bad about me and he got fed up with it. He started saying I was pregnant, just to play a joke on them. I found it hilarious, because I knew they'd make it a rumor. And it showed he got fed up with their drama.
Later, somehow, we transitioned to the city, and he and I were trying to find some terrorists because they were going to bomb it. We actually walked right in on the building they had rigged to blow. Oops. We got out of there quick. We had a shoot out with some of them. And probably stopped it all, but I think that's when I woke up for real. But yes, young prophet fiance and myself were fighting terrorists. Such a bizarre dream.
As it started to get darker, while we were recently turned down Whitehead, Bree needed to go to the bathroom. In the middle of nowhere. So we pulled off the side of the road where there wasn't a house, and made a sort of block with the cars. My car on the left, hers on the right, we opened my front right door and her front left door to make the front 'wall' and my back door with me standing there to make the back wall, and she went to the bathroom where no one could see. A couple of cars passed in the dark, but she had her privacy. One of the cars heading south though turned around and pulled up behind us as she was finishing. It was a cop or sheriff in his patrol car.
Bree is the one who can talk herself out of cop trouble, so I let her talk to him. She wandered over to his side of the car. He opened the door though and was not friendly. "It's illegal to park here!" he told us, and was going to give us a ticket. "Also, I'm going to have to tow that one," I heard as I sat in my driver seat, and he said it about my sister's car. She looked at him. "What??" she said. Then she lost it. "No!" she screamed. But she was trying not to lose control, so instead of a high pitched scream, it was low pitched. I reached up and gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards me. "Calm down, wait here," and I went to talk to him as he muttered something about, "Better call your parents," and I caught on that Bree hadn't told my parents she was using this car for the drive, and they must have reported it stolen. Of course there was no cell phone service in the area, so he was being cruel. As he walked between the two cars (now that I think of it, where she peed. funny, didn't think of that till now, awake), I saw a bright red flash in the sky off to my right over the field. It was quick, and very red. But small. Like a star or a planet, and it did not light up the entire sky. It left a star-ish light in the sky, and no one else saw it. It was a little worrisome.
Unfortunately at that point I woke up. Middle of the night bathroom break.
When I went back to bed, I had another dream. This time, I was with our entire family. We were still out in the countryside, picking our way down the road, stepping over toys and stuff under tall cottonwood trees as we walked through a neighborhood. A very sparse neighborhood with houses on only one side of the road, and fields all around. A little farther north on Whitehead. We came to a family owned restaurant, and it was packed. Sunday afternoon I think. We went in and ate. I had eggs, and then a pancake until I realized it was a pancake and had wheat which I guess I shouldn't eat these days. So I didn't finish that. But the food was exquisite. Our waiter came out at the end, and was refilling my cup. A young man, not too shabby looking. When he refilled my cup, he put his arms around both sides of me, and I thought that was just their way of doing it in these parts, but then he put his mouth right up to my ear, and I realized he liked me. Thing was, in the dream, it wasn't creepy at all. Partly because you could tell if people in these parts liked someone, it was only one person. He wouldn't be doing it to anyone else. It was also something we laughed at in the dream, and I poked his face trying to teasingly push him away, because I felt a little uncomfortable and embarrassed around my family and so I pushed my finger into his cheek or neck and held it there. Didn't phase him though it should have hurt. My dad took a picture of us like that.
Anyway, the restaurant closed. I came back later, while he was cleaning. He was young, but worked the tables, but also he partly owned the restaurant with his family, and was really responsible at taking care of it. He was a homeschooled Christian, and his family brought me into their kitchen and told me that he always does what God tells him to do, and that I was exactly the type of girl he wanted to marry, and I was the one he was going to marry, and God had told him to. Would NOT go over well in real life, but in the dream, it was believable that he really was a prophet of some kind... not just believable. In the dream, he really was. And I just knew that. Anyway, I didn't react much to their declaration, but I believed it, and he had already started to win my heart with his mouth near my ear thing and with him just having proved to be a great young man. He was, in the dream.
I stuck around the restaurant trying to learn the ropes and help cook things. I'd be cooking and they'd already be eating. OH! So my old roommate came in with her new follower, and I was in the kitchen while he was talking with them. They didn't know I was there. They were talking bad about me and he got fed up with it. He started saying I was pregnant, just to play a joke on them. I found it hilarious, because I knew they'd make it a rumor. And it showed he got fed up with their drama.
Later, somehow, we transitioned to the city, and he and I were trying to find some terrorists because they were going to bomb it. We actually walked right in on the building they had rigged to blow. Oops. We got out of there quick. We had a shoot out with some of them. And probably stopped it all, but I think that's when I woke up for real. But yes, young prophet fiance and myself were fighting terrorists. Such a bizarre dream.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Dream; Liners and Characters
We were all on this hill, it was beautiful. There was a grand lake on the one side, I've been there before, it's in my dream world. Up on top of a mountain hill next to the lake, there was a buried cannon from world war II, and some places for fighters to hide. I looked into the cannon when I was the first to find it, just shortly. Afterward we told no one else to stick there head by it, in case jostling it could make it fire, in case anything was still there... like how a lost bomb could still explode, so everyone is wary if they find a missile or bomb that was a dud. Behind those were some rickety bleachers of some kind. Too rickety to walk on. Made of pressed wood material on a metal frame. Down the back side of the hill was a glassy pond that when the air stirred, the pond got foggy and wrinkled with waves. Just a little air movement, and the whole pond was stirred. There was a neighborhood in the corner of the lake right next to the hill in the back, which had as the best feature a row of large trees in each yard, rimming the pond. There were platforms in each with tree houses built on each for the children. Like ten or so in a row. One had an empty pad without a current tree house on it, probably the real house tenants had just moved in and hadn't yet made their customized tree house. They were all different. I only saw them from across the pond on the hill. When looking at the pond, it was kind of a rich dark color due to the shade of the mountains, and it was in the shape of an L, sort of. A bubbly round L. :) In front it had the main part, and off to our right and behind slightly, it went into the hill we stood on (so the hill also was shaped around this pond). The houses were on that right L bit, on the other side.
From here it was time for me to go away from my parents to a sort of school or conference or something. Once I got away from home, everything changed. It turned out my parents had been shielding me. There were two sides in life. The Liners and the Characters. The Characters were in control, and they insisted that everything in life be curved. The Liners liked lines. Straight sleeves on clothes, straight legs when walking, lines in books, etc. I got in a lot of trouble because I was too naive and didn't know about this argument. I was trying so hard to avoid this man who was chasing me throughout the duration of the dream, trying his hardest to prove to others that I was a Liner, so that he could arrest me. He was with me a lot, but I did my best to hide that I was more like a Liner than not, although I never declared myself on any side. No one in life cares about that though, when it comes down to it. It's all about the actions in the end. I spent some time at home. An old man was watching our home, and he agreed to do it for free if he could garden. I can't remember if he was a Character or a Liner, but he was trying to help me, I remember that.
I was trying to stand by my ideals of a Liner, which had been passed to me by my parents before I even knew of the conflict. Because of course it was totalitarian and awful to arrest anyone just for believing in the usefulness of a straight line. So I didn't like the Characters. I recognized the usefulness of curves. But lines also.
I would hide in bathrooms. Oh, I was eating grapes, and tried one. It was actually a red-skinned potato. I cut off the skin and was going to toast it into chips. I really want to do that still in real life now. The people who the potato belonged to realized I had taken one, and were waiting for me to admit it, trying to trap me into saying something. I never did until finally they asked me about it. I told them that I thought it was a grape and I had taken it, but I had thrown it away later because it was soggy and not very good, which was true.
I guess that's all. It is a less logical dream, so it's harder to remember it. But it was very high in having a story plot and different characters, I just can't remember it all. It was quite the effort to remember what I did, including refusing to open my eyes when I snoozed my alarm, and taking thirty minutes to wake slowly. There was the gardener man. There was the man trying to prove I was a Liner. There were my parents. There were the two friends, a boy and girl, with the potatoes. They were Characters, but raised that way, and mostly happy to be my friend. I think we were in school together. There was my adopted brother at the beginning looking at the cannon with me. I guess those are the main ones.
I'm noticing all my dreams reflect real life somehow. For example, yesterday I was told a real story that one of our foreign clients at my agency was accused by the police of a hit and run accident. He is probably innocent, but the police (in a more corrupt part of town) were basically fishing and trying to coerce him into confessing, and threatening him with jail if he didn't. Kind of like the guy following me was trying to prove I was a guilty Liner, and the friends were trying to prove the bit about the potato.
From here it was time for me to go away from my parents to a sort of school or conference or something. Once I got away from home, everything changed. It turned out my parents had been shielding me. There were two sides in life. The Liners and the Characters. The Characters were in control, and they insisted that everything in life be curved. The Liners liked lines. Straight sleeves on clothes, straight legs when walking, lines in books, etc. I got in a lot of trouble because I was too naive and didn't know about this argument. I was trying so hard to avoid this man who was chasing me throughout the duration of the dream, trying his hardest to prove to others that I was a Liner, so that he could arrest me. He was with me a lot, but I did my best to hide that I was more like a Liner than not, although I never declared myself on any side. No one in life cares about that though, when it comes down to it. It's all about the actions in the end. I spent some time at home. An old man was watching our home, and he agreed to do it for free if he could garden. I can't remember if he was a Character or a Liner, but he was trying to help me, I remember that.
I was trying to stand by my ideals of a Liner, which had been passed to me by my parents before I even knew of the conflict. Because of course it was totalitarian and awful to arrest anyone just for believing in the usefulness of a straight line. So I didn't like the Characters. I recognized the usefulness of curves. But lines also.
I would hide in bathrooms. Oh, I was eating grapes, and tried one. It was actually a red-skinned potato. I cut off the skin and was going to toast it into chips. I really want to do that still in real life now. The people who the potato belonged to realized I had taken one, and were waiting for me to admit it, trying to trap me into saying something. I never did until finally they asked me about it. I told them that I thought it was a grape and I had taken it, but I had thrown it away later because it was soggy and not very good, which was true.
I guess that's all. It is a less logical dream, so it's harder to remember it. But it was very high in having a story plot and different characters, I just can't remember it all. It was quite the effort to remember what I did, including refusing to open my eyes when I snoozed my alarm, and taking thirty minutes to wake slowly. There was the gardener man. There was the man trying to prove I was a Liner. There were my parents. There were the two friends, a boy and girl, with the potatoes. They were Characters, but raised that way, and mostly happy to be my friend. I think we were in school together. There was my adopted brother at the beginning looking at the cannon with me. I guess those are the main ones.
I'm noticing all my dreams reflect real life somehow. For example, yesterday I was told a real story that one of our foreign clients at my agency was accused by the police of a hit and run accident. He is probably innocent, but the police (in a more corrupt part of town) were basically fishing and trying to coerce him into confessing, and threatening him with jail if he didn't. Kind of like the guy following me was trying to prove I was a guilty Liner, and the friends were trying to prove the bit about the potato.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Dream; Invading army
Had a lot of dreams. One I just have images from. I was trying on my green sari, and wearing earrings, and jewelry, but then trading it in for other earrings and just being beautiful, however not where anyone could see. When I had to go with others, I changed. And then the alarms rang.
Which is where I actually was able to remember the plot from. Of course the sari had a plot, but I don't remember it until it ties into the following dream.
Sometimes I have dreams in which an army is invading. They basically go through the city and enter some homes, while ignoring others. I don't know if it's a human army, a mythical army, a supernatural army, a monster army, zombies? etc. I don't know.
Last time it happened, we hid in our home, and while some of the creatures tried to enter our home, they didn't. They just shook the windows and the door and the home, terrifying us inside, but then leaving on to homes that looked like someone actually lived in. We were lucky, because we hadn't completely closed some of the curtains that time, so I was so afraid someone would look in and see us hiding.
This time, we got the warning that they were coming. I went around and made sure all of the blinds were truly closed. We were at my grandfather's house. Of course he was not there, and it had been remodeled after his death. When I went around the house making sure all was closed up, the army arrived. My family was able to hide down in the basement, but I got stuck in the upstairs bathroom, trying to hide in the bathtub. Unlikely to work, if they came in the home.
Again, the windows shook and the doors were banged on, it was terrifying. But this time, they came into our home. We were one of the unlucky ones.
They found me of course, and took me down to the kitchen. The soldier in our home was human. They searched the home, but ignored the basement. They found my 1000 recipe cookbook, which he was really angry about. It was forbidden for some reason. He also found my cell phone. My new cell phone broke in two from dropping it too many times, so I am using my older one again until our two year free upgrade. So he was really mad that we had cell phones. But when he found out it was old and didn't have GPS in it, he grudgingly let it go. He looked like he would ask me about the other cell phones anyone else in my family had, but we met each other's eyes and he knew I would never answer.
He eventually started to like me, as much as one likes an enemy. He asked me about the backyard, where everything was growing crazy and wild. He asked why the grass was greener in one area, and I pointed out the swing had been over that area, so it had shaded it some. The swing was now moved back about three feet. We noted the three foot tall lawn grass, how it got when not mowed. I went and picked fruit off of the trees. There was _______ fruit, and we each had one. I even made him laugh some times. I was scared of him, but by the end it was not so much terror and fear as extremely cautious respect. I felt almost (almost) comfortable around him.
At one point something didn't work, so the repairman came in. He fixed it, and left back to the basement, which the soldier, a young man just a bit older than me with light brown or blond hair, didn't bother to worry about anymore. This repairman was actually my brother, so we gave each other a hopeful look as he passed and went down to the basement. He was really hairy.... anyway.
At the end of the dream, the soldiers superiors came in. He decided that he was going to make me go with them. It wasn't exactly as a prisoner. There was no threat to myself in it; no execution, no rape, nothing like that. It was almost like he wanted me to be an advisor or he was just curious about me, as his enemy, and wanted to know more about us, and because we had developed a working relationship, albeit one which I was still constantly walking on egg shells, well, he was going to have me go with him. Which I did. I'm quite curious about what happened after that. However, I am awake now, and what I can imagine awake is not going to be as good as what could have happened asleep, so I won't bother. Anyway.
Which is where I actually was able to remember the plot from. Of course the sari had a plot, but I don't remember it until it ties into the following dream.
Sometimes I have dreams in which an army is invading. They basically go through the city and enter some homes, while ignoring others. I don't know if it's a human army, a mythical army, a supernatural army, a monster army, zombies? etc. I don't know.
Last time it happened, we hid in our home, and while some of the creatures tried to enter our home, they didn't. They just shook the windows and the door and the home, terrifying us inside, but then leaving on to homes that looked like someone actually lived in. We were lucky, because we hadn't completely closed some of the curtains that time, so I was so afraid someone would look in and see us hiding.
This time, we got the warning that they were coming. I went around and made sure all of the blinds were truly closed. We were at my grandfather's house. Of course he was not there, and it had been remodeled after his death. When I went around the house making sure all was closed up, the army arrived. My family was able to hide down in the basement, but I got stuck in the upstairs bathroom, trying to hide in the bathtub. Unlikely to work, if they came in the home.
Again, the windows shook and the doors were banged on, it was terrifying. But this time, they came into our home. We were one of the unlucky ones.
They found me of course, and took me down to the kitchen. The soldier in our home was human. They searched the home, but ignored the basement. They found my 1000 recipe cookbook, which he was really angry about. It was forbidden for some reason. He also found my cell phone. My new cell phone broke in two from dropping it too many times, so I am using my older one again until our two year free upgrade. So he was really mad that we had cell phones. But when he found out it was old and didn't have GPS in it, he grudgingly let it go. He looked like he would ask me about the other cell phones anyone else in my family had, but we met each other's eyes and he knew I would never answer.
He eventually started to like me, as much as one likes an enemy. He asked me about the backyard, where everything was growing crazy and wild. He asked why the grass was greener in one area, and I pointed out the swing had been over that area, so it had shaded it some. The swing was now moved back about three feet. We noted the three foot tall lawn grass, how it got when not mowed. I went and picked fruit off of the trees. There was _______ fruit, and we each had one. I even made him laugh some times. I was scared of him, but by the end it was not so much terror and fear as extremely cautious respect. I felt almost (almost) comfortable around him.
At one point something didn't work, so the repairman came in. He fixed it, and left back to the basement, which the soldier, a young man just a bit older than me with light brown or blond hair, didn't bother to worry about anymore. This repairman was actually my brother, so we gave each other a hopeful look as he passed and went down to the basement. He was really hairy.... anyway.
At the end of the dream, the soldiers superiors came in. He decided that he was going to make me go with them. It wasn't exactly as a prisoner. There was no threat to myself in it; no execution, no rape, nothing like that. It was almost like he wanted me to be an advisor or he was just curious about me, as his enemy, and wanted to know more about us, and because we had developed a working relationship, albeit one which I was still constantly walking on egg shells, well, he was going to have me go with him. Which I did. I'm quite curious about what happened after that. However, I am awake now, and what I can imagine awake is not going to be as good as what could have happened asleep, so I won't bother. Anyway.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Past dream; What sacrifice feels like
Well that was irritating. I dreamed. There was a waterfall and rocks and a pool. It was like a recreation center set up. The waterfall was actually a slide. There may have been more than one recreation center. Anyway, lots of water and swimming pools and a nice long story that I told myself to remember right before waking, and then just cannot do it. So irritating. Really!
So since I have no real new dream to write now, I will just write one from the past. I wrote it in my journal, so I will write it here now. It's from 2006. But another of the haunting ones.
There was a guy I liked. We were all in a room, us and a lot of people, sleeping on cots, like what we all did in New Orleans and Mississippi when we volunteered for Katrina. But it wasn't either of those places. There were a lot of kids. Just as many adults too. Families, really. And there was this cool stairway that went up several floors (although the sleeping room had a high enough ceiling to be open to the top of the four-story stairway). The stairway was in the room, off to the side. It was enclosed. It was the straight kind that goes back and forth as it goes up. On each reversal landing, it had an open window without glass, and you could hear the people below. After I came down the first time, I saw the guy I liked was there, a few cot-rows away. Never talked to him at this time. I don't remember much, until I was helping or comforting this little boy for some reason. And then soldiers came in. It was some sort of genocide, and these people were rounding everyone up and taking them away. I was near the boy's cot area, nearly underneath the stairs. I looked over at the guy and we both didn't talk at all still. We both wanted to help each other and keep each other safe, but that would have hurt the boy. In reality, neither the guy nor myself were in danger, probably because we were there to help the people, kind of like aide workers; we weren't a part of them. But the boy was in danger. My guy could have come over to protect me, but it would have drawn attention to the boy, who was close enough under the stairs to have, for now, evaded the attention of the soldiers forcing people to leave. And of course, I was not a target, and I didn't need protection. There was only one chance for the boy, who was about five. I would take him and hide with him up the useless stairs... useless because they didn't even go all the way to the top of the ceiling, I soon realized. They went nowhere. My plan was to hide on the abandoned stairs. So my guy turned away with a look in his eyes. We both knew he'd be safe. We both didn't know about my safety anymore. The look in his eyes as he left me, as I left him. I led the boy up the stairs, "handling it on my own," as I both had to, and could. Also, this act allied myself with the boy and the people; I was now in danger as well. All of this was communicated by myself and my guy with a look halfway across a room. We also just knew we'd meet up with each other, and where... on a boat in the sea, to escape the genocide. I would meet him there, after leaving my hiding place. So he left. He'd have rather not, but knew it was useless, even harmful, to stay. The people were being cleared out of the room (brightly lit, with colorful towels and sleeping bags all around). I was protecting/shielding this boy. We went upstairs, to the third or fourth landing, making sure to stay below the window openings on each landing, and me encouraging him to stay silent. His family was gone, of course. We were probably safe, but I decided to go higher. We went up more landings (if there are four floors, there were eight landings, is what I mean). All the people below were cleared out, and only soldiers were left. I went up, and realized there were stairs to a fifth story, perhaps up to the roof. But they weren't stairs of the same sort; they were open, loose, and cracked, and as we took the risk to go up them to safety, we were heard and seen. My attempt to be safer put us in danger we hadn't feared before. The soldiers started to come after us, up the stairs. Now; pause. Since I dream lucidly, I knew I was dreaming. I can control my dreams but don't very often anymore because 1) they are more interesting when I don't and 2) I'm rarely afraid in my dreams, so why bother? But here's the thing; the story was almost over. I just wanted the story to continue. So I changed the set; now there was a secret way down the stairs, in the wall, down the middle. We would go that way. We entered through the opening which was quite ingeniously hidden, but I won't describe it, beyond that it had to do with a cleft in the way for the fire-sprinkler system. We got in, and made our way down. It was cramped and dark, although my omni-seeing story-teller's eye still saw the men and light of outside on the stairs, and the colors in the room below. We got to the bottom, and were looking out the opening, waiting for the soldiers to 'realize' they'd been mistaken about seeing anyone up the stairs, and to leave. We would then make our way out, then outside the door I was looking through, then through the streets under cover of darkness, through the dangerous city streets. But we would be safe, and no one would recognize the boy as one of the victimized people as soon as we left the tell-tale building (because aren't most genocides generally about invisible differences?). People would think he was my brother or friend or son or whatever they wanted to think. And as no one had as of yet IDed me as being allied with the people and they wouldn't now as they wouldn't know the boy was one of them... all we had to do was get from the hidden place to outside the large building, into the dark. And then to the boat. Problem was... the story stopped. I couldn't think how to end it... how to get to the man I loved. How would he react when I got there? I loved him, and while I knew he cared about me, I wasn't sure he loved me back. Kind of doubted it. Not anything besides loving me as a friend or sister. And also, how to get there? The omniscient story-teller's eye was closing, and I was waking up.
The boy and I were for all purposes safe. And my guy probably was too. But no surety. Did he make it to the boat? And I never saw him again. I just woke up, with this sick longing inside. I had once again taken care of myself... and another, the little boy. Once again without anyone to care for me. And the guy by leaving us had also protected the boy. We had both sacrificed. And the guy and I never talked... but still we knew, just by looking at each others' eyes. But... it was this empty satisfaction... is that what all sacrifice is like? Not glorious like in movies. Just hard, lonely, it empties you and replaces itself with a fact that you have done good... a cold, hard, fact. But no warm comfort. Just a sick longing. And I still have not heard or seen the guy or found out if he ever made it to safety.
It was a haunting dream.
So since I have no real new dream to write now, I will just write one from the past. I wrote it in my journal, so I will write it here now. It's from 2006. But another of the haunting ones.
There was a guy I liked. We were all in a room, us and a lot of people, sleeping on cots, like what we all did in New Orleans and Mississippi when we volunteered for Katrina. But it wasn't either of those places. There were a lot of kids. Just as many adults too. Families, really. And there was this cool stairway that went up several floors (although the sleeping room had a high enough ceiling to be open to the top of the four-story stairway). The stairway was in the room, off to the side. It was enclosed. It was the straight kind that goes back and forth as it goes up. On each reversal landing, it had an open window without glass, and you could hear the people below. After I came down the first time, I saw the guy I liked was there, a few cot-rows away. Never talked to him at this time. I don't remember much, until I was helping or comforting this little boy for some reason. And then soldiers came in. It was some sort of genocide, and these people were rounding everyone up and taking them away. I was near the boy's cot area, nearly underneath the stairs. I looked over at the guy and we both didn't talk at all still. We both wanted to help each other and keep each other safe, but that would have hurt the boy. In reality, neither the guy nor myself were in danger, probably because we were there to help the people, kind of like aide workers; we weren't a part of them. But the boy was in danger. My guy could have come over to protect me, but it would have drawn attention to the boy, who was close enough under the stairs to have, for now, evaded the attention of the soldiers forcing people to leave. And of course, I was not a target, and I didn't need protection. There was only one chance for the boy, who was about five. I would take him and hide with him up the useless stairs... useless because they didn't even go all the way to the top of the ceiling, I soon realized. They went nowhere. My plan was to hide on the abandoned stairs. So my guy turned away with a look in his eyes. We both knew he'd be safe. We both didn't know about my safety anymore. The look in his eyes as he left me, as I left him. I led the boy up the stairs, "handling it on my own," as I both had to, and could. Also, this act allied myself with the boy and the people; I was now in danger as well. All of this was communicated by myself and my guy with a look halfway across a room. We also just knew we'd meet up with each other, and where... on a boat in the sea, to escape the genocide. I would meet him there, after leaving my hiding place. So he left. He'd have rather not, but knew it was useless, even harmful, to stay. The people were being cleared out of the room (brightly lit, with colorful towels and sleeping bags all around). I was protecting/shielding this boy. We went upstairs, to the third or fourth landing, making sure to stay below the window openings on each landing, and me encouraging him to stay silent. His family was gone, of course. We were probably safe, but I decided to go higher. We went up more landings (if there are four floors, there were eight landings, is what I mean). All the people below were cleared out, and only soldiers were left. I went up, and realized there were stairs to a fifth story, perhaps up to the roof. But they weren't stairs of the same sort; they were open, loose, and cracked, and as we took the risk to go up them to safety, we were heard and seen. My attempt to be safer put us in danger we hadn't feared before. The soldiers started to come after us, up the stairs. Now; pause. Since I dream lucidly, I knew I was dreaming. I can control my dreams but don't very often anymore because 1) they are more interesting when I don't and 2) I'm rarely afraid in my dreams, so why bother? But here's the thing; the story was almost over. I just wanted the story to continue. So I changed the set; now there was a secret way down the stairs, in the wall, down the middle. We would go that way. We entered through the opening which was quite ingeniously hidden, but I won't describe it, beyond that it had to do with a cleft in the way for the fire-sprinkler system. We got in, and made our way down. It was cramped and dark, although my omni-seeing story-teller's eye still saw the men and light of outside on the stairs, and the colors in the room below. We got to the bottom, and were looking out the opening, waiting for the soldiers to 'realize' they'd been mistaken about seeing anyone up the stairs, and to leave. We would then make our way out, then outside the door I was looking through, then through the streets under cover of darkness, through the dangerous city streets. But we would be safe, and no one would recognize the boy as one of the victimized people as soon as we left the tell-tale building (because aren't most genocides generally about invisible differences?). People would think he was my brother or friend or son or whatever they wanted to think. And as no one had as of yet IDed me as being allied with the people and they wouldn't now as they wouldn't know the boy was one of them... all we had to do was get from the hidden place to outside the large building, into the dark. And then to the boat. Problem was... the story stopped. I couldn't think how to end it... how to get to the man I loved. How would he react when I got there? I loved him, and while I knew he cared about me, I wasn't sure he loved me back. Kind of doubted it. Not anything besides loving me as a friend or sister. And also, how to get there? The omniscient story-teller's eye was closing, and I was waking up.
The boy and I were for all purposes safe. And my guy probably was too. But no surety. Did he make it to the boat? And I never saw him again. I just woke up, with this sick longing inside. I had once again taken care of myself... and another, the little boy. Once again without anyone to care for me. And the guy by leaving us had also protected the boy. We had both sacrificed. And the guy and I never talked... but still we knew, just by looking at each others' eyes. But... it was this empty satisfaction... is that what all sacrifice is like? Not glorious like in movies. Just hard, lonely, it empties you and replaces itself with a fact that you have done good... a cold, hard, fact. But no warm comfort. Just a sick longing. And I still have not heard or seen the guy or found out if he ever made it to safety.
It was a haunting dream.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Long dream
That dream was so long and so complicated that I'm not even going to try to write it down. I can't even begin to remember it all, and it was a quiet plot, lots of small details... not like a simple modern YA book, but more like a classic Victorian novel. I decided while I was dreaming that I wouldn't be able to record it. Maybe later in the day some of it will come back to me. Who knows.
Later- Nope. Not coming back. Just bits and pieces. I washed my hair with a very foamy shampoo that I washed off by sticking me head in the shower, but still clothed, and just rinsed my hair. I was watching youtube videos of dances in order to find one to put on this blog. I can't remember it at all.
I think milk helps me remember my dreams when I wake up. Like if I drink a cup of sometime from dinner to when I sleep. Or vitamin D perhaps.
Later- Nope. Not coming back. Just bits and pieces. I washed my hair with a very foamy shampoo that I washed off by sticking me head in the shower, but still clothed, and just rinsed my hair. I was watching youtube videos of dances in order to find one to put on this blog. I can't remember it at all.
I think milk helps me remember my dreams when I wake up. Like if I drink a cup of sometime from dinner to when I sleep. Or vitamin D perhaps.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Dream; Sister vandalizing my car
I was somewhere. There were a bunch of young people there, 15-20 or so. Way too young for me, immature, irritating, I didn't enjoy them. Especially the one that seemed to kind of like me from the distance.
Anyway, eventually I left and went to the convention. When I got there outside, I heard one of those female friends talking with my sister Bree near my car. "She did what with him?" I heard Bree yell. Her tone of voice let me know it was me. "Here she comes," I told Lee as we walked into the conference, trying to get with the people before she came. I got inside and told my mom, "Here she comes." Mom of course didn't care.
We had the conference. I don't know what it was, but it was a full gymnasium with flags in the corners, none of them the correct full american flag, so I wasn't sure which way to face when they sang the national anthem in the middle. There was white wine to drink. I had a little, but it was as disgusting as usual. Anyway, eventually it was time to go home. Or wherever we were going. I was going to go to the springs, another city.
I went with friends. We got to Highway 85 (ok, the highways were all unreal in this dream) that was over where in real life is a different one.... and is not the best way to get to the springs. But anyway. I got a phone call. It was some boy, probably Bree's friend, on the phone.
How are you, he asked?
I'm good, I said. I'm heading off to the springs.
Are you? Well where are you?
Near highway 85, I told him.
Well, how are you going to get to the springs if I don't drive you. he said.
Why should you drive me?
He laughed a little, kind of evil. You have no idea, he said, about your car right now, do you. Everyone else knows. But you don't.
I informed him that I had absolutely no problem with getting a restraining order against Bree if I had to, and I hung up.
And at that point I knew Bree had spitefully destroyed my car, instead of just letting me explain that whatever her friend told her about some guy (I don't even know which one it was that I did something with, since I never really noticed any of them, and just left when I could). I kept trying to call mom or dad to ask them to check my car, but my battery was dying, as was Lee's phone.
Anyway, I spent the rest of the dream trying to get home on a motorcycle. In shorts, t-shirt, and sandals. at least I had a helmet. All these blue cars on the highway were super rude though. I couldn't change lanes, no one would let me, they'd rather run me over. If I sped up, they sped up. If I slowed down, they slowed down. All as the lane ended. Very rude. The motorcycle kind of puttered some, so between the two I stopped and got gas, and felt so nervous riding a bad motorcycle on a road with crazy mean drivers in my shorts and t-shirt when I could get nasty deadly road rash, some stranger guy who I trusted immediately (and he was safe; I can decide this in my dreams like an omnipotent author can in a story) offered to drive me home in his truck, and my (now) dirt bike could ride in the back. Sounded good to me.
Btw, I have no idea how I got from Highway 85 all the way down to the springs. It just happened and skipped to the point where I was trying to leave to go back home. And I was never angry about my car. Just thinking, "Well. If those are the choices she is going to make, so be it. It's just a car, but I will protect myself legally, including getting police and courts involved." Which is an entire other level... but what can I say? The line has been crossed.
That's where it ended, with me with that guy offering to take me back and me just starting to get into his truck and my dirt bike in the back. Alarm clock.
There was another dream before the conference. It tied in. But I can't remember it. Also due to alarm clock, I believe. But anyway.
Anyway, eventually I left and went to the convention. When I got there outside, I heard one of those female friends talking with my sister Bree near my car. "She did what with him?" I heard Bree yell. Her tone of voice let me know it was me. "Here she comes," I told Lee as we walked into the conference, trying to get with the people before she came. I got inside and told my mom, "Here she comes." Mom of course didn't care.
We had the conference. I don't know what it was, but it was a full gymnasium with flags in the corners, none of them the correct full american flag, so I wasn't sure which way to face when they sang the national anthem in the middle. There was white wine to drink. I had a little, but it was as disgusting as usual. Anyway, eventually it was time to go home. Or wherever we were going. I was going to go to the springs, another city.
I went with friends. We got to Highway 85 (ok, the highways were all unreal in this dream) that was over where in real life is a different one.... and is not the best way to get to the springs. But anyway. I got a phone call. It was some boy, probably Bree's friend, on the phone.
How are you, he asked?
I'm good, I said. I'm heading off to the springs.
Are you? Well where are you?
Near highway 85, I told him.
Well, how are you going to get to the springs if I don't drive you. he said.
Why should you drive me?
He laughed a little, kind of evil. You have no idea, he said, about your car right now, do you. Everyone else knows. But you don't.
I informed him that I had absolutely no problem with getting a restraining order against Bree if I had to, and I hung up.
And at that point I knew Bree had spitefully destroyed my car, instead of just letting me explain that whatever her friend told her about some guy (I don't even know which one it was that I did something with, since I never really noticed any of them, and just left when I could). I kept trying to call mom or dad to ask them to check my car, but my battery was dying, as was Lee's phone.
Anyway, I spent the rest of the dream trying to get home on a motorcycle. In shorts, t-shirt, and sandals. at least I had a helmet. All these blue cars on the highway were super rude though. I couldn't change lanes, no one would let me, they'd rather run me over. If I sped up, they sped up. If I slowed down, they slowed down. All as the lane ended. Very rude. The motorcycle kind of puttered some, so between the two I stopped and got gas, and felt so nervous riding a bad motorcycle on a road with crazy mean drivers in my shorts and t-shirt when I could get nasty deadly road rash, some stranger guy who I trusted immediately (and he was safe; I can decide this in my dreams like an omnipotent author can in a story) offered to drive me home in his truck, and my (now) dirt bike could ride in the back. Sounded good to me.
Btw, I have no idea how I got from Highway 85 all the way down to the springs. It just happened and skipped to the point where I was trying to leave to go back home. And I was never angry about my car. Just thinking, "Well. If those are the choices she is going to make, so be it. It's just a car, but I will protect myself legally, including getting police and courts involved." Which is an entire other level... but what can I say? The line has been crossed.
That's where it ended, with me with that guy offering to take me back and me just starting to get into his truck and my dirt bike in the back. Alarm clock.
There was another dream before the conference. It tied in. But I can't remember it. Also due to alarm clock, I believe. But anyway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)