This was odd.
I dreamt that I returned to my old home (in my dream, not in real life) after being at war oversees for many years. The house was not as I had left it. It was dark, dismal, and damp inside. Vines were growing all about the outside and inside of the house. A fog was seeping from the floors. There was no electricity. As I walked about the place, I felt as if all I had known had disintegrated.
But then my hope was rekindled. A woman I had known before entered the home and welcomed me back. She looked unkept and slightly out of her mind. She proceeded to pull down some books of old photographs from a dusty shelf in the room next to the kitchen (which had walls green from mold). We sat down at the kitchen table (covered in cobwebs) and looked them over. There were pictures of me when I ran track in high school. There were also some of me as a young man, looking full of potential. But then the photos stopped being pleasant. The rest were not exposed well, and they were all so dark the images couldn't be seen as they should have been.
Then a young man and woman walked in and began listening to covers of John Lennon songs. I began telling them how good they were.
Then I entered a different, less depressing dream.
I found myself at an enormous building, like a mall, but far taller. There was a film shoot going on, and the filmmakers needed another actor. I agreed to help them out. Everybody was dressed in cowboy outfits (luckily I was as well). Then my scene came quickly with no explanation or instruction, other than the word "improvise." I began staggering toward the main character, who was preparing a large pot of spaghetti. I accidentally bumped him. As I fell to the ground, the pot of spaghetti and sauce flew up into the air and would have landed on me had I not rolled out of the way. Even though I wasn't directly hit, I still was covered with sauce after it splattered all about. I then crawled over to a refrigerator and tried using it to pull myself up, but it ended up falling on top of me with the door open.
The director came up to me and told me I was brilliant and said I could be done.
I wandered off the set and walked into a demolished building inside of the building I was in.
Then I awoke.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Dream #426 (December 21, 2011)
This was interesting.
I dreamt that I was, on a sunny afternoon, driving slowly down a lonely country road surrounded by corn fields. After driving for quite some time, several female bicyclists, all wearing the same outfit (baby blue jacket with yellow stripes down the arms, a matching baby blue helmet, and black spandex pants) began to pass me one at a time. They were moving fairly quickly, but I must have been driving very slowly for them to pass me as they did.
I began watching them, wondering what they were doing and why they all looked the same. I became so distracted that I was almost not moving at all.
The last female in the group stopped her bike beside me and asked me how I was doing. She had long black hair and looked about my age. I said I was alright, then I asked her what the occasion was for all the uniform bikers. She didn't answer me, but asked me if I wanted to hang out at her place.
I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. She then threw her bike in the back seat of my car and directed me to her home. We drove out of corn fields and into a housing development as she talked about everything from pets to cooking to post-secondary education.
We soon arrived at her place, which was a middle gray house with a modest back yard containing a trampoline and swimming pool. I park by the curb near the driveway, and followed her into her garage.
She began talking to me about her father's interest in boats and cars, and showed me some of his creations. Then she took me out back and we jumped on the trampoline for a bit.
After a short while, we returned to the garage, but right as we did so, her father returned home. He, a tall, overweight, harry man with an angry expression on his face, walked into the garage from the house and stared at me. Then his daughter, to my surprise, wrapped her arms around me and told her father how much she loved me. It was really strange, and I felt like I was being used as a tool of rebellion, so I began to back away. The father, who began to look like he was burning with invisible flames, pulled a shotgun off the wall of the garage and pointed it at me, screaming incoherently in a memorably gruff voice.
I sprinted out to my car and took off.
I spent the rest of my dream driving about, alone.
Then I awoke.
I dreamt that I was, on a sunny afternoon, driving slowly down a lonely country road surrounded by corn fields. After driving for quite some time, several female bicyclists, all wearing the same outfit (baby blue jacket with yellow stripes down the arms, a matching baby blue helmet, and black spandex pants) began to pass me one at a time. They were moving fairly quickly, but I must have been driving very slowly for them to pass me as they did.
I began watching them, wondering what they were doing and why they all looked the same. I became so distracted that I was almost not moving at all.
The last female in the group stopped her bike beside me and asked me how I was doing. She had long black hair and looked about my age. I said I was alright, then I asked her what the occasion was for all the uniform bikers. She didn't answer me, but asked me if I wanted to hang out at her place.
I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. She then threw her bike in the back seat of my car and directed me to her home. We drove out of corn fields and into a housing development as she talked about everything from pets to cooking to post-secondary education.
We soon arrived at her place, which was a middle gray house with a modest back yard containing a trampoline and swimming pool. I park by the curb near the driveway, and followed her into her garage.
She began talking to me about her father's interest in boats and cars, and showed me some of his creations. Then she took me out back and we jumped on the trampoline for a bit.
After a short while, we returned to the garage, but right as we did so, her father returned home. He, a tall, overweight, harry man with an angry expression on his face, walked into the garage from the house and stared at me. Then his daughter, to my surprise, wrapped her arms around me and told her father how much she loved me. It was really strange, and I felt like I was being used as a tool of rebellion, so I began to back away. The father, who began to look like he was burning with invisible flames, pulled a shotgun off the wall of the garage and pointed it at me, screaming incoherently in a memorably gruff voice.
I sprinted out to my car and took off.
I spent the rest of my dream driving about, alone.
Then I awoke.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Dream #425 (December 15, 2011)
I miss blogging these dreams regularly. Let me know if you want to continue reading them.
Last night I dreamt an interesting and strange dream. In the beginning, I went to an arcade with my grandfather (Duane Baughman). This arcade was much different from any arcade in the real world. It was fancy, like a high class hotel. There were great chandeliers, snazzy carpets, and and modern pieces of artwork placed about this three-story play place. There were waiters bringing people drinks and h'orderves. People were dressed nicely. Even I was wearing black slacks a white button-up shirt, a black vest, and a bow tie.
There were many fun games, and I had about fifty tokens to spend. I soon found my little brother playing a basketball game, and I wanted to join him (there were two hoops so that people could compete against each other). He had already put his tokens in, but I slid mine in quick enough so that I could join. The game cost three tokens; however, when I inserted the third, it told me if I wanted to apply that as credit to a future game. Apparently somebody had left a token in the game. I turned and saw Chuck Zook approach me, looking quite upset (his nostrils were flaring).
He came up and shoved me out of the way and began to play the game that I paid for (mostly). He said he had accidentally put four tokens into the slot. I then replied that I had paid two for that game and, because I wanted to play my brother, I was willing to give him a token to replace the one he had lost. He wouldn't listen and began to shoot basketballs as they fell down from the gate. I tried to get in front of him, but he kept pushing me out of the way.
Frustrated, I turned and left. However, it seemed that Chuck wasn't finished with me, for he rushed at me, fist clenched and eyes wild. He 'punched' my jaw (really, he just placed his fist on my face without too much force, which I thought was strange). He then picked me up and began hitting my back. All the while, I had my hands raised in the air, showing that I was not involved in this fight so that I wouldn't get kicked out of the awesome arcade.
Soon enough, some hefty guys in white suits came and carried Chuck away. He continued yelling at me; I could even hear faint cries as he was hauled past the thick metal doors that led out of the plaza.
I shrugged it off and Mike and I went to the second level. We found my Grandpa playing a Donkey Kong game and getting really into it (jumping up and down, shouting, etc.). After he lost that game, he went to the next game (a speed boat racing game) and joined a complete stranger (a heavy Italian man), who looked annoyed that somebody had joined his game.
Mike and I then continued to walk around. We found a hidden exit On the third floor that led out to the docks. It was dark and damp and dimly light, and a thick fog slowly moved through the atmosphere. As we walked, Mike asked me about the latest short story I had written, which was about a deranged fisherman who battled mutated fish men. We then entered another building, which ended up being yet another part of the grand arcade, though this part contained hotel rooms as well as arcade games for people who had come to game for several days.
Mike and I split up, and I went and explored some of the hotel rooms.
I found one door open to a room, and I entered. It was more like an apartment, or, at least, a more permanent place of residence. There were pictures on the wall, a large refrigerator with children's drawings, and other nicknacks. There were three young children present, but no parents.
The oldest of the three, a young girl wearing an eloquent dress, approached me and welcomed me into their home. She began showing me some of the pictures and describing the back story to each one. Then she opened up the fridge and invited me to partake in the family's food. She said her mother wouldn't mind. All the while I was a bit nervous, for I didn't want the mother to walk in on me alone with her kids, for that wouldn't look too good (though I had no bad intentions).
Then the younger boys began playing a game of tag, and I joined in. It was such fun, and I felt like I was a young child. Suddenly, the mother walked in. I was startled, but to my surprise, she was not angry with me. She was just as kind as her daughter, and she thanked me for entertaining her kids while I was gone.
As she talked to me about how the father had left them, the youngest boy managed to get into the trash, covering himself with spaghetti sauce in the process. He was a mess. I soon found out that he was still in the mindset of tag, for he ran up to me and slapped my leg (still covered by nice black slacks) with a hand covered in red sauce. It would surely stain. The mother then ran and grabbed some honey and poured it on my pants, saying that honey prevents red foods from staining. I believed her.
Then, as I was about to depart, the youngest boys came and gave me a hug. It was then that I noticed that both the boys had small red spots all over their bodies, for they had chicken pox.
I left the room and wandered outside for a while. I found a concrete building and entered it.
There I found Kevin Chupp. He was bouncing around very high into the air, as if there were no gravity. He came and told me to hop on his back, which I did. Together we bounced and floated for several seconds. It was a great feeling. We continued to do this down a long concrete hallway (the ceiling of which was fifty feet high, which we almost hit). We found a group of young adults taking a group picture and joined them.
As we smiled for the picture, Chuck Zook, followed by a bunch of dancers, entered the hallway. Chuck was singing and snapping his fingers as his followers danced behind him and occasionally repeated his lines.
He looked at me with eyes that proclaimed, "See what I have now, Joe?" I thought it was ridiculous, and Kevin agreed, so I climbed again onto his back, and we hopped our way further down the hallway.
At the very end of the building, we found Kevin's parents (Ken and Diane), and his younger sister (Kelli). They were taking turns running on an old-school treadmill (one that was only powered by friction). It looked like fun, so I took a turn. I was doing pretty well, running at very high speeds. I got a bit arrogant and began doing the grapevine on it, which impressed Ken. My turn was soon over, and I got off and watched Kevin sprint on it.
When he was done, I climbed onto his back and we went back down the hallway.
Then I awoke.
Last night I dreamt an interesting and strange dream. In the beginning, I went to an arcade with my grandfather (Duane Baughman). This arcade was much different from any arcade in the real world. It was fancy, like a high class hotel. There were great chandeliers, snazzy carpets, and and modern pieces of artwork placed about this three-story play place. There were waiters bringing people drinks and h'orderves. People were dressed nicely. Even I was wearing black slacks a white button-up shirt, a black vest, and a bow tie.
There were many fun games, and I had about fifty tokens to spend. I soon found my little brother playing a basketball game, and I wanted to join him (there were two hoops so that people could compete against each other). He had already put his tokens in, but I slid mine in quick enough so that I could join. The game cost three tokens; however, when I inserted the third, it told me if I wanted to apply that as credit to a future game. Apparently somebody had left a token in the game. I turned and saw Chuck Zook approach me, looking quite upset (his nostrils were flaring).
He came up and shoved me out of the way and began to play the game that I paid for (mostly). He said he had accidentally put four tokens into the slot. I then replied that I had paid two for that game and, because I wanted to play my brother, I was willing to give him a token to replace the one he had lost. He wouldn't listen and began to shoot basketballs as they fell down from the gate. I tried to get in front of him, but he kept pushing me out of the way.
Frustrated, I turned and left. However, it seemed that Chuck wasn't finished with me, for he rushed at me, fist clenched and eyes wild. He 'punched' my jaw (really, he just placed his fist on my face without too much force, which I thought was strange). He then picked me up and began hitting my back. All the while, I had my hands raised in the air, showing that I was not involved in this fight so that I wouldn't get kicked out of the awesome arcade.
Soon enough, some hefty guys in white suits came and carried Chuck away. He continued yelling at me; I could even hear faint cries as he was hauled past the thick metal doors that led out of the plaza.
I shrugged it off and Mike and I went to the second level. We found my Grandpa playing a Donkey Kong game and getting really into it (jumping up and down, shouting, etc.). After he lost that game, he went to the next game (a speed boat racing game) and joined a complete stranger (a heavy Italian man), who looked annoyed that somebody had joined his game.
Mike and I then continued to walk around. We found a hidden exit On the third floor that led out to the docks. It was dark and damp and dimly light, and a thick fog slowly moved through the atmosphere. As we walked, Mike asked me about the latest short story I had written, which was about a deranged fisherman who battled mutated fish men. We then entered another building, which ended up being yet another part of the grand arcade, though this part contained hotel rooms as well as arcade games for people who had come to game for several days.
Mike and I split up, and I went and explored some of the hotel rooms.
I found one door open to a room, and I entered. It was more like an apartment, or, at least, a more permanent place of residence. There were pictures on the wall, a large refrigerator with children's drawings, and other nicknacks. There were three young children present, but no parents.
The oldest of the three, a young girl wearing an eloquent dress, approached me and welcomed me into their home. She began showing me some of the pictures and describing the back story to each one. Then she opened up the fridge and invited me to partake in the family's food. She said her mother wouldn't mind. All the while I was a bit nervous, for I didn't want the mother to walk in on me alone with her kids, for that wouldn't look too good (though I had no bad intentions).
Then the younger boys began playing a game of tag, and I joined in. It was such fun, and I felt like I was a young child. Suddenly, the mother walked in. I was startled, but to my surprise, she was not angry with me. She was just as kind as her daughter, and she thanked me for entertaining her kids while I was gone.
As she talked to me about how the father had left them, the youngest boy managed to get into the trash, covering himself with spaghetti sauce in the process. He was a mess. I soon found out that he was still in the mindset of tag, for he ran up to me and slapped my leg (still covered by nice black slacks) with a hand covered in red sauce. It would surely stain. The mother then ran and grabbed some honey and poured it on my pants, saying that honey prevents red foods from staining. I believed her.
Then, as I was about to depart, the youngest boys came and gave me a hug. It was then that I noticed that both the boys had small red spots all over their bodies, for they had chicken pox.
I left the room and wandered outside for a while. I found a concrete building and entered it.
There I found Kevin Chupp. He was bouncing around very high into the air, as if there were no gravity. He came and told me to hop on his back, which I did. Together we bounced and floated for several seconds. It was a great feeling. We continued to do this down a long concrete hallway (the ceiling of which was fifty feet high, which we almost hit). We found a group of young adults taking a group picture and joined them.
As we smiled for the picture, Chuck Zook, followed by a bunch of dancers, entered the hallway. Chuck was singing and snapping his fingers as his followers danced behind him and occasionally repeated his lines.
He looked at me with eyes that proclaimed, "See what I have now, Joe?" I thought it was ridiculous, and Kevin agreed, so I climbed again onto his back, and we hopped our way further down the hallway.
At the very end of the building, we found Kevin's parents (Ken and Diane), and his younger sister (Kelli). They were taking turns running on an old-school treadmill (one that was only powered by friction). It looked like fun, so I took a turn. I was doing pretty well, running at very high speeds. I got a bit arrogant and began doing the grapevine on it, which impressed Ken. My turn was soon over, and I got off and watched Kevin sprint on it.
When he was done, I climbed onto his back and we went back down the hallway.
Then I awoke.
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