Dream Journal

[mimekiller]

-A dream about being in Southern CA but also really needing to get back home for work

-A nuclear mushroom cloud that caused mass flooding, escaped to a house and sat on the roof.

[Phoebe]

There I was, both in a college Chemistry classroom (?) and clutched in the arms of some dude (?). Do you love me? he demanded to know. Yes! Yes, I proclaimed triumphantly, of course I love you! We kissed and I fetched up the scarf I had just knitted him to prove it (apparently). Well, sorry, he said, that's too bad. See Darlene over here? he asked. Yes, I did see her sitting down there. I was to tutor her in Chemistry, or so it seemed in the dream. Otherwise, why was she there, and some other weird guy who was sitting at a desk in the seats below us? Well, Dream Dude said, Darlene loves me too, and just like you, I am Not That Into Her. So sorry, I realize this is a new experience for you, but I'm Just Not That Into You. Oh, I said. How unfortunate! And you're right, this is a new experience for me. I puzzled over it. Even with a scarf on offer, I thought to myself sadly, shaking my head. Well, something needs to change.

I went home. There was my mom in a huge white-interior, beautifully decorated home full of reconciled family members having a Christmas party. I need to see the yarn, I announced, and my cousin and I went into some closet AKA giant room where all the yarn was being kept. I think for maybe 7 hours straight I dreamed about yarn: different colors and combinations, different projects it would be put to use into, and so on. Amazing.

[mimekiller]

Dream that someone decided to run a comic con like event out of my moms garage and the only celeb(which is impressive for someones garage) was Hurley form Lost with a card table and I kept apologizing for no one showing up.

[Phoebe]

I was trapped in an elevator that had become crushed down so I had to lay in a few feet of space, and the doors would open but the places I could have slithered out into were bad. I stayed in the elevator. It was a bad dream that appears to be totally motivated by real life! Yay!

[mimekiller]

Had a dream I was a...lake cop of sorts, cruising around, checking stuff out, seemed like fun.

[Phoebe]

That does sound like fun. Wasn't this a TV show?

[Phoebe]

I had such bad sleep last night and such awful dreams that I'm reluctant to go to sleep even now that it's late and I'm ready to put the Blob of Work Stuff away for the night. At one point I was trying to sneak either in or out of a large stadium by going under a barbed-wire fence (husband's theory: this is when not-so-small child was laying on me and maybe digging in somewhere inadvertently with nails or teeth, or maybe dog pawing to be let outside). At another point I left my car parked on the street and returned only to find that someone had made off with the entire exterior shell of the vehicle, including hubcaps, but everything else was intact underneath. I drove off in disgust, mentally calculating how much money I should prepare to secure in checking account for next car purchase. Lots of stressful stuff, running around, not able to get things done on time, things being messy, being in hotels or other people's houses and kids making a mess, needing to clean up this mess, ugh, just a whole night of it. Scary thoughts about missiles, I don't know. Bad night. Can we please have that yarn room again tonight instead? I want to make a pillow with loops all over the front - and back, why not the back too?

[Phoebe]

Once upon a time I heard someone babbling about how Brian whassisname who plays Marilyn Manson in public life is a really hot and sexually charismatic dude. Uh, wow, you are so high, I thought to myself. And then I chuckled a bit over it, like someone who was pleased at the prospect of an unexpected dessert, and this was a mistake because it caused the whole incident to be recorded in a neuron somewhere. Last night my brain decides to regurgitate this back to me. I am a professional interior designer. I'm vaguely perplexed by this because somewhere in distant memory I recall doing some other sort of job. But ha ha, wonderful, can you believe people actually get PAID to help other people, albeit fussy and difficult people, design their home interiors? Hell yes I'm an interior designer, and a darn good one too! This is certainly real life and not a dream! Then my client turns out to be Brian whassisname who plays Marilyn Manson. I never get to meet him because, y'know, I'm just the designer and I communicate through sketches and computer graphics and price lists. But this guy is so pleased by my mode of capturing and yet slightly improving upon his preferred aesthetic that he has to meet me. Well, you are old and round and gray, he says, but I love you and we will be together henceforth. I was cool with it, like, obviously, who wouldn't find this person totally hot and sexually charismatic? [The conscious brain frantically waving and screaming in background, W T F!!!! Wake UP!!!!] Dream progressed - I cared for him in some sort of long-term-nursing care setting as well, as we were like swans bonded for life. Conscious brain continued its WTF!!! contra betrayal, upon waking, yet the sleep was refreshing and 7 hours' worth so who can complain, really? If that's what it takes, it's a big step up from Steve Bannon so I'm willing to tolerate.

[Phoebe]

Steve is back, damn it all. We have a toddler now, Steve Jr., and we're concerned because it seems like he could be going to jail (Steve Sr., not Steve Jr.). I'm really sad for him and I'm trying to be supportive during this trying time. He is much cleaner in my dreams and does not smell bad as you might suppose is true in real life. I complained about this to my husband who told me that having an emotional affair is far worse than any other kind. I told him that he is kidding himself and he would be much more capable of bouncing back from that than from the other kind, but I guess who am I to say? Dream Steve still has problems with my stubbornly wrong opinions, but he appreciates my loyalty because I plan to write him daily letters in case he ends up in jail. What he doesn't know is that I'm planning to send Steve Junior to a Jewish preschool.

[Phoebe]

Stressed out work dreams. Something goes wrong. Futility. Hopeless despair. Shame. Ruin.

[Phoebe]

I had the worst nightmare last night! Ugh. Fighting off illnesses left, right, high, and low, maybe that's why. I was in this kind of haunted house that recurs in my dreams. It's my house, but with surprise extra rooms that I puzzle over and then decide are legit, though in waking life they don't exist. I wake up unsure what to believe is real. Bad things are usually lurking in the new rooms, though they always look cool. I woke up screaming that dry, soundless scream of dream life, which thankfully morphed into a real vocalized scream, and thus woke myself up. No idea how the others slept through me shrieking at the top of my lungs, but they did, and then I read some Dr. Seuss and chilled back out.

[DMDarcs]

I am in a hotel, a hotel that exists only in my dreams. There is no reality to this dream, but I know the geography of this hotel as if it were a real place. I'm in the corner, around from the lobby, right by the elevators. Don't go to the seventh floor in the left elevator, it will come crashing down. Also, don't go to the fourth floor. The doors will open, and you'll have to jump in the hallway. Not this time. I know I'm in the dream this time. I'm going up to the performance area. I'm playing woodblock. This piece is supposed to be Short Ride in a Fast Machine, but it's not. There's no meter changes, and the woodblock dies out after 4 measures - this isn't right. I'm playing along with some former students. Emma is standing next to me. Her hair is short, and she's dyed it back to pink. There is no woodblock, and my part is coming up. I try to emulate the sound by striking the shell of the snare drum, but it's a metal shell. I try playing on the rim, but that doesn't work well either. The conductor glares at me, or maybe it's not the conductor, but someone sitting very near the front - it's my principal. She's clearly pissed off at me, and I need to fix this right now. I need that woodblock. If I play the woodblock on its next entrance, I'll be fine. Where's the woodblock? It's on the stage, back at school, because we needed it in the pit. I just have to get it before the next entrance. I can do it if I teleport. Teleportation is easy - the secret is, even though this is a dream, people just can't see you do it. If someone sees you do it, it opens a rift between dimensions, something to do with they way that we can't process seeing someone just disappear in one place and go in another.The psychic pain from watching it is too much. If you're the teleporter, you get stuck in between dimensions. I duck down behind a dividing wall. The audience can't see me. The other players aren't paying attention, so I teleport away. PIcking up the woodblock is easy, time to teleport back. The thing about teleporting back, however, is that you can't just appear somewhere if someone is looking at the area. The pain of jumping pack and being seen is even worse. Something bad will happen. You'll get stuck in between dimensions. But..there's no problem with that, right? I mean, time doesn't really work in just one direction, it's just that we only perceive it being in one direction, but it goes all around. Even if I'm stuck in between dimensions for eternity, it won't even feel like a second before someone isn't looking at that spot, and I'm there.

The point of view switches, and even though I'm still myself, I realize I am watching from This is someone else's perspective.

Staring at a computer screen, looking at what appear to be two black-and-white photos. The one on the left is actually a live stream of a security camera, but you can't tell. The one on the right is the same scene, but a static image. It is outside a hallway, one that is almost never used. The website these images is some sort of crackpot conspiracy site, something from goofy UFOlogists or supernatural investigators. There's a bright flash of light in the left picture, coming from the bottom right corner. It's blinding.

At this point, I am now in both points of view simultaneously, my original, and the person watching this site. I feel all of my emotions, but am locked into the perspective of the website watcher.

This isn't supposed to happen. Explosions of light don't just happen. I teleported too far over. Someone saw. What does this mean? I've got to scroll down on the website and find out. But I can't scroll. I've scrolled down with the mouse wheel, but it's as if the computer has frozen, not registering that it needs to scroll. No, this is ok. You're not really stuck, time doesn't follow just a single direction, right? Oh shit, this isn't good. Oh shit, this isn't good. The stuck scrolling happens instantaneously. The background is a dirty mustard yellow. A face stares at me, and it's horrible frightening. I can't describe it - but it is an amalgamation of the 1st edition AD&D line black and white line drawing of a troll; Michael Jackson from Thriller, just as he is revealed to be a zombie - the stare - ; there's an evil malevolence there, as if Randall Flagg from The Stand were real; the actual background is a mix between a glitched out video and Max Headroom background graphics. This is trite, but somehow supremely EVIL beyond description. And he's got me.

I'm in a dream. But I can't get out. I scream. I'm thrashing my head, or rather, I feel that I am, but I can't get it to move. I'm shouting out as loud as I can, or rather, I'm willing myself to shout, because nothing is moving. "Help me! Help me wake up! I can't wake up! Someone help me!" I keep yelling these words, as I thrash about while trying to actually move. I feel the words trying to come out of mouth, but my tongue is numb and won't form words. Mrs. Darcs is talking to me, trying to get me to wake up. "Honey? Honey?" she yells as I try to respond. But only "I can't wake' up" seems to dominate my thoughts and my attempted speech. And then I'm awake. And Mrs. Darcs is talking to me, exactly as I heard her.

[Phoebe]

OMG, scary!! But... More woodblock!!!

[Phoebe]

The horrifying infection is spreading: now my husband has had a nightmare that I ran off and left him for Steve Bannon, who lately has come out and really felt his feelings publicly on nationalist racism! It was a hard struggle for him to raise the kids alone and he was seeking a girlfriend who could replace me but it was impossible. That's kind of appealing you know, kind of pleasant that your husband can't even in his unconscious mind imagine a reasonable alternative, especially when one is old and broken down by the years of bearing and caring for children and such. He was like, it was terrible, it was the worst, you can't imagine! Great, keep talking... This probably makes up for him calling me Big Mama yesterday. Kind of.

[Phoebe]

In my own dream I was a professional musician. I think it's because before bed I happen to read Eliahad's comment about the difficulties of late-night and early-morning being a musician driving around to rehearsals. Blessedly that part of it was skipped entirely in the dream and I dreamt only about being the professional musician going to rehearsals as my job. The music part was very nice, very pleasant dream!

[Phoebe]

Last night I dreamed that I drove up to work, but the parking lot was more like a drugstore. An elderly lady with white hair was getting into the passenger side door of the car next to me. So I could not open my own door because hers was blocking it from opening.

It had snowed recently - there was a lot of snow and ice on the ground. I looked over at her and hoped that she would be safe on all that snow and ice. Strangely enough, instead of taking cautious steps, she began jumping up and down in an almost angry fashion as if she were trying to stamp the snow away. I was like whoa, lady! What the heck are you doing? You're going to fall!

She wouldn't stop, and I got so distressed about it that I started shouting at her through the window, "you're going to fall! Be careful!" She just glared at me and kept jumping even more angrily, until all of a sudden, sure enough she fell right down on her butt! She hit her head on the passenger door and I thought certainly she was wiped out unconscious.

I couldn't get out of my door because her door was still blocking it shut, so I started scrambling for my own passenger side door in hopes of getting out and going around. Someone else must have seen it because someone started shouting, are you okay?! No, I screamed. She's laying there hurt!

Who knows what that's all about. Could be it's because I know someone who recently hit his head and became injured, and because I'm laying there asleep in terrible pain and waking up every few hours with it. Unpleasant dream though.

[Phoebe]

Dreamed that the pain I have been having lately, not clear why, was caused by strawberries that had been inside the side of my neck. The doctor had opened this area and was plucking one after another large, ripe strawberry out of the side of my neck. It still hurt, but I was puzzling over whether it would be acceptable to keep and eat them. Strawberries are pricey, I remember thinking, and it seems a shame to let them go to waste. Yet probably the kids wouldn't want to eat them if they've been inside my neck and maybe I shouldn't eat them if they are medical waste, or if that could cause the problem to keep going. I just wanted the strawberries out and the pain to stop.

[poorpete]

Found out my older sister (by 13 years) has the same reoccurring dream: having to walk five miles from a local village to our old house (where I lived for 12 years, she only knew it as "camp").

[Phoebe]

Wondering what sort of camp this was, or why it was referred to this way!

Dreamed last night, after another terrible night of being awoken at all hours for no good reason, that I had set down my cell phone on a countertop and asked someone to keep an eye on it, because I was about to help people move some large object and I didn't want to have the phone hurt accidentally while in my pocket. Went back to pick up the phone and the guy manning the countertop area had STOLEN THE PHONE and would not return it. Security came over and said there was no way to prove the phone was mine, and I was like, let me open the goddamn screen lock, which only I will be able to do properly, and then you'll see that it's mine! But they would not let me do this and the whole time the guy in there who stole it is just laughing, laughing, because he knows he's getting away with this and that he's going to make money. God this is probably a work-related dream in a very troubling way.

[Phoebe]

Had one great dream Sunday and one lousy one last night.
So in Sunday's dream I was invited to a reception at the grand opening of what turned out to be a CVS-type pharmacy which also contained a restaurant/nightclub. The invitation was specific about clothing not being permitted, so after griping about this idiocy for a while, I decided to go with it. My husband was like, no way, I am wearing clothes and I don't care what the invitation says. Eh, at our age in this condition, who cares, I said? I keep reading all this shit on the internet about how we're supposed to be body positive, and I'm not! I am pissed off for good reason at the negative condition of the body, but if that's how things are going to be, then fine, screw it, here it is, take it or leave it! Apparently in the dream world it was NORMAL for people to have naked events so there was nothing obviously weird about attending a party with such a dress code. Also, this is something I would never, ever do in real life even if everyone else were doing it, because I do not roam around naked even when alone, because: comfort! The surfaces of life are not designed for nudity; one needs protections on one's tender flesh! In dreamland, all of this was forgotten.

Anyway, you guessed it: I was the only one who followed this dress code and everyone else was clothed. But hilariously, they all congratulated me on my bravery in managing to march out the door without a care in the world! I was like, yeah, see? It was worth it. Screw you all. I'm lucky if I can manage merely to stay alive some period of time longer, to endure in this world of cruelty and climate change. And by the way, the rest of you ignored what it says right there on the invitation. I laughed and laughed at this. They gave me free drinks, for the bravery and compliance, and so I sat there and drank.

Last night's dream was awful. I was at work and couldn't find a way to leave. I wanted to get home, you know, I was done, I had things to do at home, but could not find the exit. There was some vaguely disturbing overlay of the Runelords halls of vice we are presently wandering through in Pathfinder game, and my workplace, so I was trying to trace out which hallway corresponded to which vice and was making progress with this, but still there was no exit!