Dream #513 (October 31, 2013) Sufjan and Santa

This one almost makes sense, right?

Sufjan Stevens was holding a Midnight Christmas Extravaganza in the middle of a lightly snow-covered gravel church parking lot in Indiana.  I was working the event; I helped set up the large red, white, and green stage, the speakers, the various decorations, and microphones.  After a lot of hard work (too boring to write down here), the show was ready.

About two hundred people showed up on the cold night and sat down with their hot chocolates and watched the show, while I watched from side and backstage.  Sufjan put on an excellent show, performing in several costumes including the following: teddy bear, Christmas frog, elf, tree, snowshoe.

During the finale, a bunch of people with paper-mache reindeer heads (8 in all) jumped on stage and dance alongside jolly old Sufjan.  At that moment, I noticed that Santa had not made an appearance during the entire show and, for some reason, that upset me very much.  I dashed to the trunk of my car, pulled out my Santa suit, and hopped onstage and joined in the fun.  I did some amazing acrobatic dance moves, and even climbed to the top of the trussing, swing across the stage, and slid down the heavily decorated Christmas tree.  It was awesome, and the audience let me know it.

After the show, the crew set up a long dining table and a large Christmas turkey, as well as all kinds of other tasty foods, were brought out for Sufjan and his gang.  I was getting ready to leave, but Sufjan grabbed me and placed me in the seat of honor right next to his.  I dined with him and had a merry time indeed.

At the end of the meal, he asked me if I would join his troupe and become his full-time Santa.  Immediately I answered, "Certainly, Sufjan!"  He told me to take the next hour to pack up all of my belongings and to meet him back at his larger-than-life tour bus.

Then I awoke.

Dream #514 (November 18, 2013) Cocaine and the First Lady

Well, well, well


I was walking down a long dirt road surrounded by fields and pine trees.  I wore a sweatsuit and a backpack and was trying to interpret the large map I was carrying.  I walked several mile blocks, unable to find where I was going (though I was never sure where I was actually trying to go).

After a long while, a tractor pulling a hay wagon rode past me.  I didn't think to hop on, but luckily Gia Franke (a former college classmate of mine with whom I haven't spoken for years) stopped the driver, hopped down, and, with enthusiasm, convinced me to join her and a dozen others on a ride to some convention center where the president (not the current president, but a president I created in my head) was supposed to speak later that day.

We rode along the road for a while, and I found myself telling life stories to all the other passengers.

At last we arrived at an enormous warehouse.  Once inside I saw that a sizable crowd had gathered to hear the president's speech.  I wandered off by myself because I was far more interested in exploring the warehouse than in hearing a canned message that I'd probably heard before.  I ended up in a back room where the president was being prepped for his talk.  I saw a woman run up to him and exclaim that his wife had fallen ill suddenly and was lying down in a nearby room.

I continued to explore the warehouse.  I noticed that my left nostril had become irritatingly stuffed up, and I tried, as I walked, to expel the gunk from my nose, but I had no luck.

I finally found a large room in the warehouse in which dozens of brute men were, in an assembly line, unpacking large boxes of cocaine and repackaging the powder into a more manageable size.  For some reason, they left the large garage doors of the room open to the outside.  It was extremely windy, so cocaine clouds filled the room.  I was quickly covered in the stuff.  I, for some reason, was hopeful that it would clear my nasal cavity, but even cocaine couldn't help.

I knew that I should probably leave the room before I got in trouble with the brutes or before they all got caught by the plethora of security guards present in the building due to the presidents presence.  However, before I left, a particularly muscular man forced me to put on a puffy hooded Miami Hurricanes coat (I had one when I was in lower elementary school) and grab a large black trash bag filled with something I would never see in the dream.

I left in a hurry (well, in as much of a hurry as a heavily coated guy carrying a large trash bag can be), and accidentally ended up in the room in which the First Lady was resting (unconscious).  A bunch of the cocaine fell onto her (I had a thick layer on me, and I was constantly creating a cloud wherever I went), and I tried to brush it off, but it only made it worse.

The only thing left for me to do was run.  I didn't leave the bag, for several reasons that made sense to me at the time (I didn't know what was in it, I didn't want to further harm the First Lady, I didn't want to leave my fingerprints behind on something that could've been filled with an illegal substance.

I must have been high, because I had no idea of knowing where I was going, or how to guide myself in certain directions.  I just sprinted.  I, unfortunately, literally ran into the president right as he was walking out to give his speech, knocking him to the floor and covering him in cocaine.  Oops.


Then I awoke.

Dream #512 (October 27, 2013) Battle for President

This was strange.


I dreamt that I was at an enormous assembly somewhere in the United States.  There were thousands upon thousands of people there for a conference held by the Missionary Church (a rather small denomination, primarily located in the Midwest).  In the dream the president of the Missionary Church (very loosely based on the real president, Steve Jones, though in the dream he was tall and buff) was a very corrupt man (not the case in real life) and had used his special spirit to control the spirits and the minds of the Missionary Church congregants.  All those subject to Steve's conjuration had black spots in their eyes.

I was at the conference just by chance.  I was in town and thought I would talk to a couple friend I knew were there.  When I showed up, several middle aged people gathered about me and talked about me as if I were not there.  They formed a circle about me and began to sing about me.  I finally escaped the circle of praise and asked a hoodie-wearing young man what it was all about, and they told me I was to be the next president of the Missionary Church.  I was to be the one to free them of Steve's corruption.

Initially I mocked those who praised me so, claiming that I knew very little of what a president should know.  However, they persisted, and eventually pity lead me to accept the calling.

The great session was about to begin, so the large stadium full of people grew quiet as the lights dimmed.  I stood in the back as Steve took the stage and shouted his lies from the pulpit.  Those who were brain/spiritwashed cheered and applauded at each of Steve's proclamations.  Finally, the rebels lifted me up and carried me to the stage.

I stood there, face-to-face with Steve.  He laughed at me as some of his servants (they all wore black and had long, black hair) placed a dark red, mechanical armor on his body.  They handed him an enormous sword, and he took an offensive stance.  A rebel from the crowd tossed up a large medieval axe and I grabbed it and took a swing at Steve.

A battle ensued.  I, to my surprise, was very quick and accurate with the axe, and I delivered several strong blows to Steve, though his armor seemed to absorb all the impact.  I, armor-less, managed to dodge each of his swings and stabs.  I was quite impressive.  Finally, I struck Steve on the face, but to my horror, he suffered no wounds.

The battle continued for quite some time, and with each minute I realized more and more that Steve possessed invincibility.  As I was about to give up and flee, Steve's right-hand man (a scary-lookin' fella wearing a long black robe and possessing a long, narrow nose) managed to whisper to me from across the room, stating that Steve had a magical orb in a black pouch attached to his belt.  I quickly managed to find this orb and cut it loose from Steve's waist.

A beautiful black and white sphere rolled across the ground.  I grabbed it just as Steve cut his sword across my stomach.  I suffered not a scratch!  It was only a matter of seconds before I had slain Steve and he was on the floor, lifeless.

The crowd was immediately freed from the spell, and they cheered and a celebration ensued.

As my first act as president, I gathered up a team of people, including my brother Mike, and prepared them to go to South America to help a few people in need there.

I thought that I had also scheduled a trip to South America just a couple days after my brother's flight, but I discovered that I accidentally committed to serving for three weeks on a submarine.  I thought that sounded miserable.


Then I awoke.

Dream #511 (October 25, 2013) Zombies in Detroit

My golden birthday!


In my dream, my grandpa moved to Detroit and I drove up to visit him.  I was a bit hesitant to do so, because there were reports of strange and chaotic things happenin' up there, but I was more curious than afraid.

After drinking tea with my grandpa in a house that looks identical to his house in real life in Fort Wayne, IN, I parted and decided to walk about the town.  I strolled past some old and grey restaurants and trinket shops and city hall and a large library (most likely an inaccurate depiction of Detroit, considering I've never been there).  The city seemed as if it had been taken over by pillagers; none of the business were open, and there were only a few people rummaging about, taking what they wanted from each shop.  As usual in my dreams, a strange grey twilight was the only source of illumination.

Finally I ran into someone who seemed personable.  His name was Paul, and he was a fit, balding man in his thirties with a pleasant smile and perfect handshake.  He introduced himself and asked if I would join him for a birthday party he was throwing for himself that evening.  I accepted and walked with him to a two-story blueish-gray house jammed between a laundromat/diner and another, similar house.

He walked me to his living room which was cluttered with loaded bookshelves and various woodworkings.  Paul pulled an old red book off one of the shelves and revealed a beautiful and ancient necklace that was hidden inside, made up of blue and purple gems fastened to a gold chain.  He then directed my eyes to the text of the open page and read aloud as I read a beautiful poem, translated from German, written by one of his ancestors about the life of a nomad.

After we finished, several people began to enter the house, bringing in gifts, food, and balloons.  Paul's twelve-year-old girl came down the stairs to greet the guests, appearing as if she had just woken up from a nap.

Paul told me if I felt uncomfortable with all the strangers in the house that I could take a trip to the library and return later when it would be more peaceful.  That sounded great to me, so I headed back to the library.

I walked up the concrete steps, past the large Roman columns, and into the dimly lit library.  It was quiet at first,  and I began working through the book collection in the history section.  Soon I began to hear terrible noises, distant at first, but rapidly and frighteningly getting louder and closer.  I ran toward one of the walls and hid behind a bookshelf.  I removed a couple books, which allowed me to see what was going on.

A large group of men and women in tattered clothes burst into the library.  They were abusing each other as they destroyed the books and shelves inside.  Some had bats or crow bars, but most were just using their hands to rip things apart.  These monstrous people had either green or blue chalky skin, and colored dust flew from them everywhere they moved, and they left stains on everything they touched.  I feared for my life, because I seemed to be the only regular human around.  I wasn't too far from the door, so I took a deep breath and fled the library.  Nobody seemed to notice or care.

I ran back to Paul's house and burst inside.  Many of the partiers had gone, but a few remained.  As I looked for Paul, I ran into a tall man.  I looked up and saw his blueish-purple face looking down at me, smiling politely.  I quickly jerked my body away from him and bolted to the basement of the house.

I walked into a small white room and saw Paul, now with light green skin, digging at the neck of a normal-looking young man standing in front of him.  I observed in shock and horror as Paul, using only his fingernails, tore away the skin from the young man's right shoulder.  Then, Paul bit his lip and let his blood drip into the open wound.  The young man began to smile right before he passed out and hit the floor.

Paul finally noticed me standing there, and I began to back away.  He smiled at me and told me I had nothing to worry about.  He came and place his hand on my shoulder and said he would only make me like him if I chose the transformation.  I looked over and saw that the young man had turned purple and was back on his feet.

I told Paul that I was happy being a regular human being, then he told me about all the benefits of becoming like him.  He was stronger.  He didn't feel pain.  He had an abnormal peace inside.  I proceeded to tell him about the crazy destruction I witnessed in the library, and he argued that those people were weak-of-mind and were just as dangerous when they were humans as they are now.  Paul couldn't convince me, and he respected my opinion.  He promised to take me to the train station where I could safely return to Indiana.  He told me to grab a sandwich from the adjacent room while he went to grab his car keys.  I found his twelve-year-old daughter there, huddled in a corner.  I walked up to her to see if she was alright, but she turned quickly to me and tried to bite my legs.  I dodged her, and threw the food-filled table down between us.

Paul rushed into the room and scolded his daughter, who was still human-colored.  She then begged Paul to make her like him, and he acknowledged her by tearing into her shoulder and bleeding into her. She quickly became a little purple demon, leapt from her father's arms, and darted upstairs, shouting at the top of her lungs with a terrifying voice.

Paul told me not to worry about her.  He then handed me a knife and told me to use it if I needed to.

We rode together to the train station in his old blue car.  We didn't talk the whole way there.

Once we made it to the station, Paul hugged me (which made me a bit uneasy) and told me I could return anytime.  Our goodbye was suddenly interrupted by two men.  One was a short, purple man with a knife, and the other was a tall, African American man who seemed to be normal still.  The short man told us it was in our best interest to enter his red truck, which was parked near Paul's car.  The man then grabbed me by the shoulder and started to tear into it with his nails.  I spun around and tried to stab him with the knife Paul gave me.  I struck him in the chest, but I didn't seem to do much damage.  The man took a step toward me, but was stopped short by Paul, who happened to be carrying a pistol.  Paul shot him once in the chest and once in the head, killing him immediately.

His tall accomplice then ran at Paul, and I stabbed him in the back a couple times, bringing him to the ground.  I tried to avoid any vital organs, but I'm not a pro, so I didn't really know what I was aiming at.

The man looked up at me and pleaded with me, claiming that he was just a drunkard with a family trying to get by.  I had pity on him and asked if he wanted medical attention.  Then Paul shouted at me and said that I'd better leave the man.  I didn't understand, and didn't listen to him at first, but he then pointed his gun at me and told me to return to Indiana before I got in too much trouble.

So I left the wounded man with Paul and I boarded the train.


Then I awoke.

Dream #510 (August 18, 2013) Defeat

Exciting and thoughtful (for me, probably not for any given reader).


I was riding in the back of a 15 passenger van which had all the back seats taken out.  Several of my buddies were with me (the only real person with me was Bo Ennis).  We were having a good old time off-roading for the fun of it.  Bo was driving like a maniac, which was awesome.  We flew over bumps, swerved around trees, and bursted through bushes, laughing all the way.

After a good amount of this fun, a war suddenly broke out.  Bullets were flying and the Enemy was pursuing us.  It turned from great bliss to terrible fear in an instant.  They were popping out from behind trees, from within bushes and from under the mud.  Bo turned to me and asked if I had a gun.  I said, "Yes, an airsoft gun."  He told me that it would work for now and to start shooting.  He, meanwhile, pulled out a real gun, which made me sick to my stomach.

I was a pretty good shot with my airsoft Desert Eagle, but it didn't do much good because it mostly just annoyed those pursuing us.  However, with a group effort, we all managed to escape the danger.  Our van outran them, and we arrived at a large carnival.  We were greeted there by Joe Nehls and Michael Kaser.  As the two of them began talking to Bo, I looked around the carnival and saw that all the cool rides were made of logs.

Then Joe pulled me aside and told me to take his gun, because we were going back out to face the enemy.  I argued against that decision because I didn't want to kill anybody and even if I did, we would still be terribly outnumbered.

We argued for quite a while.


Then I awoke.

Dream #509 (August 16, 2013) Mega Church and Toys

These days I don't blog my dreams as much as I'd like.

In this dream I was in a house painted blue on the outside and the inside.  There were several rooms, all perfect cubes (same height, length, and width), and I explored each.  All the rooms were empty except the final room in the far northeast corner of the house which contained a large white plastic box full of action figures.  Many of the toys I had owned in real life, though a few I had merely wanted to own.

After looking through these toys for a while, a young man entered the room and asked me if I'd accompany him to the local supermarket where we were supposed to buy some more toys together.  I accepted and followed him to his old white car.

Once at the supermarket we found ourselves in the midst of havoc.  There were over a hundred people running about this place, throwing at each other whatever they could get their hands on.  I luckily dodged several fruits and vegetables, as well as a stereo and some pool toys.  The young man who took me to this place quickly joined in the chaos and started nailing people with apples.

I decided to look for the toys that I was supposed to get in the first place, so I carefully made my way to the action figure aisle.  That was no place for a shopper, for all kinds of toys from G.I. JOE to Lord of the Rings characters were flying about in the air at great speeds.  I decided to leave the store altogether (on foot).

I walked through the dark city, which slowly became a light city as the sun rose.  I made my way into a neighborhood, where I found an enormous, bicuspid church (two steeples!).  I walked in and discovered that it also was painted blue on the outside and the inside.  I also discovered that Carrie Badertscher, Geoff Cocanower, Amber Kreider, and (randomly) Craig Robinson were scheduled to speak at this church.  Carrie asked if I would play a certain song (that doesn't exist in real life) on the keyboard during the offering while Nick Tunez did some spinning on his turntables.  I agreed to this, though I didn't realize how big of a production it would be.

Carrie led me into a dressing room where I changed into an extravagant ship captain's outfit (it was also blue, with yellow decor).  When I came out she showed me where the keyboard, Nick Tunez, and I would be elevated from underground to center stage.  I was beginning to get a bit nervous.  Then she handed me sheet music for the song, which looked very complicated and involved a lot of synth layering, then she left me.

Instead of warming up, learning the song, and practicing, I went and found David Badertscher (Carrie's husband) and Craig Robinson and I talked with them about how they were doing.  Soon enough, it was my time to perform, so I ran to my keyboard just before it elevated to center stage.

There was a huge crowd, and they seemed genuinely excited that I would be playing for them.  Nick Tunez started off the song with some scratchin'.

Then I awoke.

Dream #508 (June 26, 2013) Houndmouth and Mixed Geography

I apologize for the gap in dreams blogged.  Since the Mars dream I've had a tough time finding the effort to blog my dreams.


In this dream I drove up from Koontz Lake, IN through Fort Wayne, IN, stopped briefly by my grandpa's house to pick up some 35mm film and other photography equipment, then drove 8 hours up to Birmingham.  Now, knowledge of United States geography would make one wonder how I drove "up" to Birmingham.  Well, in my dream, Fort Wayne, though still part of Indiana, was actually in Michigan and Birmingham, though still a part of Alabama, was also in Michigan near the norther border to Canada.

It was late at night when I arrived in Brimingham, so I found a random house, parked in the driveway, and walked up to the front door and was greeted by a young woman who said she had a spare room in which I could stay.

It just so happened that Katie of the band Houndmouth was on a solo tour through Michigan and Canada and was staying in another room of this young woman's house.  I saw her playing pool while the young woman was playing an old Nintendo 64 video game on a CRT television.  I asked Katie how things were going with the band, and she said she just had some songs she needed to perform on her own before rejoining the band in a few days.  I didn't want to distract her from her pool game, so I proceeded to my room and prepared for bed.

The next morning the young woman had made an omelet for Katie and an omelet for me.  As we ate breakfast, I asked Katie where she was headed next, and she said "Toronto" without waiting to swallow her mouthful of egg (in the dream Toronto was actually just North of Birmingham [the dream Birmingham, that is]).  She asked me if I could take some 35mm B+W stills of the show because it was supposed to be at some interesting museum of Canadian agriculture.  I told her that I probably couldn't since I had left my passport at my grandpa's house.  I wanted to go, so I left the table and called my grandpa to see if he could rush me my passport, but there was no way I could get it in time (considering the drive was 8 hours from Fort Wayne to Birmingham).  I hung up and wished Katie a good trip.  The rest of Houndmouth was going to be staying with the hospitable young woman, so I asked if I could stay for a couple more days, and she said I could.

I spent the rest of that morning and afternoon riding various bus routes through the twilight city of Birmingham.  I photographed my experiences, which were not all that interesting (though visually there was some cool stuff).  I finally returned to the house of the young woman, and there to greet me were Matt, Shane, and Zak of Houndmouth.  Spirits were high, and my arrival only made them reach greater heights.  They invited me to join in their poker game, and I agreed.

We played late into the night as we discussed potential future projects and told our various travel stories.  Finally we all grew tired enough to sleep.

The next morning I packed up my stuff and left the house with Houndmouth.  They told that they wanted me to document the rest of their tour, which excited me.  I asked where they were headed next, and Matt said, "Toronto."

Well, I still didn't have my passport, but I called my grandpa anyway.  He said he could meet me halfway, which seemed like a good idea to me.  I told the Houndmouth guys I'd meet up with them later, hopped in my car, and begin driving back down to Fort Wayne.


Then I awoke.

Dream #507 (June 1, 2013) Mission To Mars

The Red Planet.  I will try to be very brief, considering the amount of time that passed in this dream.


I was selected to join a team of men and women journeying to Mars.  We were to be the first people ever to set foot on the planet.  However, it came not without a cost.  It was to be an eight year journey, with no return.  When the selections were made, I was among the elect.  The rest were strangers, except for Amy Ennis (a former co-worker of mine at Prairie Camp) and George Takei.

Well, the ship was enormous, and had a prodigious control room with an expansive window looking out across the space before us.  I had the duty of inspecting all the various machinery in the ship, and keeping it up and running.  I was quite handy, and was able to fix just about any malfunction.

I didn't socialize much on the journey.  I kept to my self and spent most of my time reading classic literature.

Somehow, in my dream, a whole year and a half passed.  There was a meeting of all the astronauts in the control room at that time, and our Earth correspondent had sent us a video message stating that the ship was not operating as expected and it would have to return to Earth, otherwise it would not make it to Mars safely.

I was both excited and depressed, and I spent the next year and a half back both anticipating and dreading the upcoming return.

A large party was thrown for all the astronauts by friends and family, and I remember eating meatballs, little sausages, and cheese in a little blue bedroom with Amy and a bunch of our friends (including Amy's husband Bo, and Dave and Carrie Badertscher).  I felt very disconnected with everyone, and I longed to return to space.  I felt so strongly that I could no longer exist on Earth and that I belonged away from it.


I awoke from the dream, but that feeling has stuck with me, even till now as I write this post nearly a month later.

Dream #506 (May 29, 2013) Bobby and Batman and Illegal Activities

OK.

In the beginning of this dream I wandered onto a property on the outskirts of a huge city in the middle of the night (the whole dream took place at night, though over several dates).  I found a warehouse there and looked into the window.  I saw a few people inside moving about suspiciously (I'm not sure what, exactly, was suspicious about their movements, but that was how I perceived them).  Suddenly, I was tackled from behind by a couple of strangers.  They flipped me over, put a ski mask on my head and introduced me to Coach Hannah (my former basketball who was apparently a crime lord in his free time).

He helped me up and introduced me to his criminal enterprise inside the warehouse.  He instructed me and the other goons with ski masks to carry a bunch of supplies (primarily explosives and zip ties) from a store in the warehouse, through a secret door, down a long hall, through another secret door, and into a secret room that stored their explosives and a bunch of classic cars.

I spent the rest of the night moving things into that room from the warehouse store.  When I was finished, Coach Hannah offered me a full-time position on his criminal crew, where I would commit to working 5 nights a week.  I accepted and went home to rest.

To wind down before bed I watched an episode of King of the Hill.  Now, in my dreams, King of the Hill (KOTH from now on) had reemerged with new episodes.  In the particular new episode I was watching, Bobby Hill, who was a young adult, came out of the closet and announced to the world that he was gay during a press conference.  In that same speech he declared war against the intolerant Batman (apparently the Batman and KOTH cartoons had collided in this show).

The show had a cliffhanger ending, and I had to wait a day to find out what would happen (yes, this cartoon aired every day).  After I slept, I returned to work at the warehouse, where I did the same old stuff (though this time I tried having conversations with the other criminals, but they thought I was goofy and only made fun of me).  I then went home and watched another episode of KOTH/Batman and in this one Bobby built a large pink car with elegant and lifelike wings (it could fly).  He and Batman had a great battle, which ended in a sort of draw.

Then I lived a sort of montage, where I would go to work and move stuff from the warehouse to the classic car room, then return home to watch Bobby Hill fight Batman.

At last the season finale was getting ready to air.  The day before, however, I received a Bobby vs. Batman graphic novel in the mail.  I was so excited that I brought it to work.  I asked my cocriminals if they had been keeping up with the series.  I also asked them if I was supposed to read the graphic novel before the season finale, or if it would spoil it.  Well, nobody else was watching/reading anything about it, and they all had a laugh at my expense, though I didn't care.

Finally, after work, I had a bit of extra time (I had taken off early), so I opened up the graphic novel.

Then I awoke.

Dream #505 (May 28, 2013) Combo Girl and Plastic Fork Stabbing

This was, as usual, bizarre.


I began the dream walking around an area surrounded by concrete walls that looked very much like a prison yard.  People were setting up hundreds of brown folding chairs in preparation for a movie that was going to be presented there later that afternoon.  I was with my brother and his girlfriend.

Now, in this dream, my brother's girlfriend was a combination of his current girlfriend and another girl with whom we are both acquainted, and it was a perfect 50/50 combinations.

My brother pulled me aside for a moment and confided in me, letting me know that he was growing tired of this particular girl and that he had no choice but to dump her onto me.  For some reason, I was unable to resist  this (literally - there was some sort of force controlling my dating life).  So, after a quick conversation, the girl was now my girlfriend, and I was her man.

The first order of business was to watch the movie together (a movie in which I had no interest).  I was nervous, so I snuck behind a set of bleachers (which was near the back wall of this prison yard) and found an old Oregon-Davis High School friend Jeremy Robinson.  I told him of my situation, and he merely laughed at me.  He proceeded to flick my ear, which I didn't find funny, so I left him and joined my new girlfriend.  We sat down together and sat in an uncomfortable silence.  Before long another old high school friend, Andrew Jensen, sat on my right side, and we began having a good conversations about what each of us had done since we had last talked.

Unfortunately, the Combo Girl didn't appreciate me paying my attention to anyone but herself, so she put an end to the conversation between Andrew and me.  Then she took my left arm and placed it around her back, resting my hand just under her hip bone.  I didn't like the way I could feel her skin resting on that bone, so I moved my hand just above it, which made me slightly less uncomfortable.

I then turned my attention to the movie, which was black and white and starring Jimmy Stewart.  My makeshift peace didn't last long enough, for the Combo Girl became bored with the movie and led me out of the prison yard and into an old, run-down tabernacle.  I followed her around the rubble for quite some time, with no real purpose.  At last, she left the place and walked over to a tabernacle (similar to the one at Prairie Camp) that was in working order.  I stood with her in the back as a preacher delivered a sermon to the onlooking congregation.

At last I built up enough courage to sneak away from the Combo Girl, which I did successfully.

I ran down the road until I found my way into a small city.  I entered a large hotel and began thinking back to my single days.  I wished to myself that I could be single again.

I soon ran into yet another former classmate Ryne Sweeney, and he told me to follow him up to the third floor of the hotel.  I did so and discovered that Jeff Kreider was lying in a bed, pretending to be sick so that he wouldn't have to go explore the town with Ryne and me.  We begged him over and over, but he wouldn't budge.  Finally, Ryne trying pulling him out of bed, which caused Jeff to go absolutely berserk, flailing his limbs all about.  He ended up kicking Ryne in the leg.  I heard what sounded to be the cracking of a bone and called a nurse up to the room, who then took Ryne away.

Amber, Jeff's wife, became terribly upset with Jeff, so she walked up to him, picked up a plastic fork, and stabbed Jeff in the neck

Blood began shooting all over the place, yet Jeff seemed to be alright.  Amber told me to leave while she and the nurses bandaged up the wound.

I met Ryne outside and saw him in crutches.  He informed me that his leg was indeed broken.

I no longer had company, so I entered another room in the hotel hoping to find a new companion who would walk around town with me (I was still avoiding the Combo Girl).  I was surprised to find Kareem Abdul-Jabbar eating dinner with his wife (completely a fictional character in appearance) and Louis C.K.

I watched them, and they completely ignored me.

Kareem demonstrated some hispanic food preparation he had learned, but was interrupted by a sudden urge to poop.  He rushed into the bathroom and did his business.  He soon discovered that there wasn't enough toilet paper to finish the job, so he snuck back out to the dining room table and grabbed some paper towel, claiming that he wanted to clean the mirror.  Suddenly a couple of large-toothed fish jumped out from a small fishbowl and bit into Kareem's arm.  A flower of skin grew from his arm and Louis C.K. tried to pluck it, only to be smacked away by Kareem's wife.


Then I awoke.

Dream #504 (May 19, 2013) The Bike Shop Girl and Wilt Bird

I feel like I dream all night sometimes.  This will be abbreviated due to its length.


The dream began in a city.  It wasn't day, nor was it night; it was something like a twilight with no memory of the sunset and no hope for a sunrise.

I was hanging out in my apartment on the fourth floor of an eight-story brick building.  My room was kindly lit by a few heavily diffused lamps.  I had a television that I never used.  I was reading a book by Sinclair Lewis (that, in real life, doesn't exist) about Native Americans living during the Industrial Revolution.

After reading for a while, I decided to go grocery shopping.  Before I could make it out my door, however, I was distracted by a yo-yo I had on my dresser.  I stopped to play with it for a while, then went on my way.

Outside the apartment I could hear faint hints of arguments, diluted by traffic and the wheezing of factories.  I walked to my red bicycle and, after unchaining it, realized I needed to take it into the bike shop to get a tune-up, so I forsook grocery shopping.

I walked my bike down the long, busy streets, past mimes, jugglers, and buskers, to the local bike shop.  There I was greeted by a black-haired teen employee who let me know how knowledgable he was of bikes before he took mine into the back.  As I waited I browsed the colorful and shiny bikes displayed in the store.  However, my eyes were soon distracted by a young woman who entered the shop to get a tune up for her bike.

I watched her hand the bike off to the same teen, and she seemed to have a grace about her.  She caught me looking at her, but I didn't, somehow, feel awkward.  She approached me and began talking to me as if we were longtime friends.  We connected so strongly, and I desired for the bike-smart teen to not be as knowledgable as he let on so that our tune-ups would take longer.

Regardless, the tune-up ended soon than I desired, and I was given my bike, and she was given hers.  We walked out of the store together and I was sure that we would work out a time to see each other again.

But that was disturbed by a young man with black hair, a patchy black "beard" (he would have called it a beard, but it may not have been worthy of the name), and a black polo.  He put his arm around the young woman with whom I'd gotten along so well and proceeded to mock me.  His aggression caused me to stutter as I tried to continue talking to the woman, giving the man more material with which he made me look (or feel) to be a fool.  He walked away with her, leaving me sad.

I didn't even ride my bike back to the apartment.  I had a difficult enough time putting one foot in front of the other.  It was more than my fallen hopes in this young woman.  When I returned to the apartment, I thought a shower would make me feel better.  I placed my bike in the bike rack and found an outdoor shower near my apartment where I proceeded to strip down to my boxers.  I jumped into the ice cold water, exposed to the public.  An older Italian man was shouting at me as I washed my back,  claiming that I was disturbing the peace and that I should leave, but I ignored him until my shower was finished.

I did eventually take his advice, and I hailed a cab and rode it out of the city and up a mountain.

(I'll skip some of these even more boring details).  I walked around a bit, observing the flowers that managed to grow out from rocks.  They were all bright white and yellow, contrasting the dreariness of the twilight and fog.

Eventually I was joined by Neil Silveus, and he persuaded me to come down from the mountain back into the city.  He told me he wanted me to accompany him to a film festival, so I followed him.

We walked through a strange cabin that was near the base of the mountain (after a long hike down), and ran into a couple characters from the sitcom "Friends" (I never watched the show, so I don't really know who is who other than Jennifer Aniston and perhaps a guy named Joey or Ross or both).  Jennifer and Joey (I think) were acting out a scene, arguing about something.  When we walked in, they acted as if were weren't there.  Soon after we entered, spirits of celebrities began to appear in the cabin.  First came Brendan Fraser, who said, "I knew the cameo was a bad idea!"  Then some famous female celebrity appeared, followed by the spirit of Wilt Chamberlain, who was wearing Big Bird's head.  Wilt looked down at me (through Big Bird's eyes) and said something muffled about basketball.

Neil finally pulled me out of the cabin and into the theater where the film festival was taking place.  I sat down next to Danny and Josh from Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. and watched a film about a swimming instructor who fell in love with a bicyclist.  After that film played, there was an intermission, and I followed the Jr. Jr. guys into a special fancy suite were beautiful and delicious food was sitting there waiting for us.  I ate of it and studied the interesting furniture supposedly designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.


Then I awoke.

Dream #503 (May 12, 2013) - Wrongfully Imprisoned on a Train

This was a dream I had.

In the beginning of the dream, I was in a subway station.  There were dozens of men in grey trench coats walking around, not bothering to make eye contact with anybody.  There were also tons of other people, but the men in grey stood out to me.

Suddenly, I was tackled by a tall and muscular police office, cuffed, and dragged through the subway station to a holding cell.  I don't know what they thought I did, but it must have been pretty bad.

The next thing I knew, a judge sentenced me to life in prison.

I immediately found myself on the prison train.  This was an ever-running train that contained large, open beds where prisoners sat.  There were also rock-breaking cars were a few prisoners at a time would smash rocks into smaller rocks.  And, finally, there were the cell cars where the prisoners slept.

I was sitting at the edge of one of the open-bed-cars next to a couple of nasty-lookin fellas.  The guy next to me, terribly tall with long black hair and a dark goatee, asked me how I "landed on the train."  I was still unsure, so I just resorted to, "Drugs."

With that answer, he smiled at me, and revealed a little chunk of crystal that he had hidden in his pocket, then gave a signal to a buddy of his (who looked a bit like my friend Eli Riechenbach, so I'll call him Eli), and I interpreted the signal to mean that I was cool.

Each prisoner riding on the bed had a clasp around his waist that was chained to the floor of the bed.  Each also had shackles on his wrists.  My shackles were especially tight, and I was consistently conscious of the pain in my wrists as long as I was wearing them.  After talking with the scary black-haired tall man beside me about his previous domination of the drug world in Detroit, the conductor/prison ward called Eli and me into the cell car, and we followed him inside.

There our shackles were taken off, and we were instructed to clean up each cell within the car.  We were under careful supervision as we made beds, folded clothes, and organized prisoner spaces.  At last, the conductor was called away briefly, and we had a bit of time to relax.  Eli motioned for me to come over to him and he showed me a stash of crystal that he had hidden inside his bed.  He patted me on the back and offered me a generous chunk, an offer that I was afraid to refuse.  Then, Eli asked me to join him in partaking in the drug.  The chosen method of drug use was crystals straight into the bloodstream.  Eli, using a sharp edge of a crystal, cut open his forearm slightly and rubbed the crystal into the wound.  I now had to figure out how to pretend to use the drug without actually doing it.  I looked down to the floor and noticed a few pieces of broken glass.  I subtly replaced my crystal with the glass, took off my shoes and used the glass to cut into my heel.  I then rubbed the glass up and down my wound, pretending to immediately feel the effects as Eli had.

Eli gave me another pat on the back and left the cell and walked back to the open bed.  I stayed in the cell a moment and discovered that the conductor/warden had left his keys.  I proceeded to remove my shackles and waist clasp.  Luckily the train began to slow down.  I exited the cell car and walked onto the open bed.  I shook hands with the scary, tall, goateed man, giving him the crystal Eli had given me. He looked quite thankful as I turned and hopped off the train.

As I ran into the wheat field to take cover, I heard the train begin to stop.  However, this wasn't unusual, because the train often stopped to pick up more prisoners and food rations.

I felt free, and I knew that if anyone realized that I was gone, I could outrun any of the prison guards on the train and that the wheat was tall enough to cover me, so being shot was less of a threat.  I sprinted further and further away from the train, but as I ran, I began to think about the life that I was entering into.  I knew that I wouldn't be able to return to being myself in any way.  Also, for some reason, the man with the black goatee came to mind.  I felt an odd desire to get to know him more and become his friend.  These thoughts were so strong that I turned around and headed back for the prison train.

I walked back onto the open bed and found that nobody had noticed my absence.  I took advantage of the time out of my shackles and wandered onto the rail car that contained my personal belongings that were confiscated from me and reclaimed them.  Then I walked back to the cell where I found the conductor/ward staring at the shackles that were without a prisoner.  I tapped him on the shoulder and offered him my wrists.  He gladly took them and slapped the shackles back on, but this time they weren't quite as tight as he had made them before.

I sat down next to the goatee guy and he gave me a strange look.  I showed him my wallet and my phone that I had reclaimed, and he smiled at me knowingly.

Then it was time for visitors.

Several wives, children, and parents of prisoners walked onto the train to spend a few minutes with their incarcerated loved ones.  I didn't assume that I would have any visitors, because I knew that most of my friends and family didn't believe my story of innocence.  I was surprised to see Morgan Ferch and Katie Schwenk walk onto the train.  They were crying and, as they attempted to talk to me, they could barely form any words.  I'm not entirely sure why they were sad.  Maybe they were upset at the hard conditions of my life.  Maybe they were sad because they thought I was no longer the man I was when they knew me.  I don't know.

At last all the visitors left and the train began to move again.

Then I awoke.

Dream #502 (May 10, 2013) - How I Ended Up in a Tree with Jim James

Yim.

I dreamt that I was directing a strange music video for a strange band made up of all kinds of musicians (there were violins, saxophones, bells, guitars, horns, and more).  The video consisted of the large band playing in the middle of a field at twilight whilst a house of paint was created around them.  This was all done in camera, and there were dozens of 3D painters who had this extra-sticky purple and turquoise  paint that, when they threw it from the 5 gallon buckets they were carrying, became a solid in mid-air.  It was spectacular.

After I finished the 1-take, multi-cam shoot, I walked over to a strange and glowing circle about 50 yards from where the paint house was built.  As my intern painters cleaned up the mess, I talked with a few friends of mine: Jon Andrew Caslteberry, Kevin Chupp and Jim James (Jim isn't actually my friend in real life...yet).  Jim was asking me what my plans were for the next couple weeks and was wondering if I would play the piano for his next album (yes, that sounds narcissistic, but it is, after all, my dream).

When Jon Andrew began talking about his upcoming wedding, the luminescent circle in the middle of the four of us began to glow brighter.  Suddenly a great beam of light shot from it and King Louie from "The Jungle Book" came through the portal and started glancing at all of us.  Then, for absolutely no reason, he began to attack us.  He punched Jim in the gut, then threw Jon Andrew about ten yards, the bit into Kevin's arm.  We all began to flee in terror.

Jim and I took refuge in a tree (which, in retrospect, doesn't make much sense when trying to evade a monkey).  Somehow King Louie didn't see us when he ran beneath us, and, as he ran further and further away from us, we became less and less tense.

At last the silence was broken, and Jim and I began to talk about life and about nature and about the role of humankind as the sun began to rise and as dawn began to break.

I eventually awoke, refreshed.

Dream #501 (May 6, 2013)

Filming in my sleep.


I dreamt that I was the cinematographer for a feature film directed by Andrew DeSelm.  On this particular shoot date, we were shooting all through the night.  The scenes we were working on involved a lot of complex lighting, and I was working like a madvillain trying to get everything lit well while Andrew was constantly reminding me that I needed to hurry.

We just finished a wooded exterior and were lugging up great loads of equipment to the third floor of a small hospital in the middle of a farm.  We had some large LED lights, along with a bunch of other fresnel tungsten lights.  I was using the LED's to create a lightening effect, with one on a riser shooting into the window from outside and the other in the hospital room that we were shooting.

I really wanted 1 more large LED, but we didn't have any more, so I tried calling the rental company to see if any more were available for delivery, but I kept getting a busy signal, so I began rigging up a dimming system with the tungsten lights.  All the while Andrew kept hounding me, encouraging me to hurry.

I finally created a nice scene, and then Andrew began to direct the terrible actor (a man in his late twenties).  As he did this, I left to begin setting up the next scene, which was an exterior of the hospital.  The lights I chose burned mercury and had a harsh orange tint.  It wasn't long before Andrew and a whole bunch of child actors came outside and started acting out the scene.

Then, all of a sudden, things became real and were no longer a movie.  Some strange mole-like creatures popped out of the ground and began snatching the children and turning them into straws (yes - large, human-sized drinking straws).  The mole-things then piled up the children straws in a ditch they dug.  I wanted to stop them, but I couldn't figure out how to do so; instead I looked on in horror.  Then, the mole-things turned toward me and began to pursue me relentlessly through the woods.


Then I awoke.

Dream #500 (April 11, 2013) - 2 Cops, Ghosted, Chicago

So this is 500?  Is it worthy of the number?  We'll see.


In the first dream I felt like some sort of a spectator yet, at the same time, I was somehow very much a part of the dream.  Two cops were running their route in the middle of the night in a large, dark, and inactive city.  The driver was a middle-aged redhead with a thick mustache and the passenger was a young man who resembled Joseph Gordon-Levitt.  The driver was asking the young cop about his life, wife, and young daughter back at home, and the young man went into how he was having a tough time with his marriage.  Then the redhead offered some odd advice having to do with taking a "breather" every once in a while.  After that remark, the cop car's headlights passed over a couple of young women staggering into an abandoned building.

The older cop asked the younger if he wanted to have a little fun.  Without waiting for an answer, he harshly slammed on the breaks and whipped the car over to the entrance of the building, parking it there.  The cops got out, grabbed flashlights, and entered the rubble.

They searched through the dark and musty rooms, hoping to no avail that each corner would reveal the beautiful women waiting for them.  At last they entered a long, red bathroom with several mirrors lining the walls.  The redhead stopped at one of the mirrors and tidied up his thick and wavy hair and his mustache with a come he kept in his breast pocket.  The young man did the same.  Then they heard one of the women in the next room say, "Come and get it when you're ready."  The JGL look-alike rushed toward the door, but the older man put his arm out and caused him to pause.  "One more thing."

The redhead began to show JGL a bunch of skin pockets that he had on his stomach, legs, and arms (yes, that is terrible gross and strange).  In each of the pockets was hidden a small razor.

"You never know when you'll want to whip out one of these."

The redhead led JGL into the room.  Suddenly, the roofless room was filled with a harsh white light coming from above.  Several UFO's stormed down from the sky onto the city, and the whole earth, and began to destroy it.


Then I switched over to a different dream.


I was attending an outdoor basketball game.  A wooden floor had been set up in the middle of a soccer field, and thousands of people were there to watch.  I walked along the boundary lines and observed the game and the fans alike.  I saw a lot of people with whom I was familiar, but I didn't stop and talk to anyone.  I walked over to a concession stand in the corner and asked if there were any free items.  Without a word the heavyset 20-year-old handed me a pamphlet about this legendary horror that had taken place at the creepy old house next to the soccer field.  I opened it up and began to read it.

The first paragraph described a found young college girls that bought the old house together because it was inexpensive and resided near their school.  I looked up from the pamphlet and noticed that all the people had disappeared.  The court was gone, the bleachers were gone, and the concession stand was gone.  I looked at the old house and was drawn to it.  I dropped the pamphlet and ran to the front door.

One of the four young women answered the door politely and let me in.  She asked me where I was from and what I was interested in.  Night had fallen quickly, and the few lamps and candles in the house struggled to light the vast rooms.  I found myself being controlled by strange impulses that I was unable to control.  When the woman left the room to grab some refreshments, I ran into an adjacent room and changed into a different outfit.  I put on a long black trench coat, black goggles, black gloves, black pants, black socks, black shoes, and a black top hat.  I carried a silver cane and walked back into the room.  My appearance frightened the woman, and she threw a vase at me, which hit me in the head and killed me.

The next thing I knew there was a detective observing my dead body and taking notes about the crime scene.  The four girls were all standing nearby, crying into each other's arms.  Then I discovered that I was able to leave my body, so I did.  Because of all the daylight in the room, my spirit was invisible.  Soon enough night fell again, and all of the cops and detectives left, and the girls were there alone.

An incredible thunder storm had come over they house.  The girls were sitting in the living room talking about what had happened, trying to keep each other calm, when my spirit walked into the room.  They were dreadfully frightened, and they began throwing things at me.  Because I was a spirit, I was unable to get hit.  The girls began to scream with insanity and they all fled the house, running straight into the storm.  I tried to stop them, but was unable.  Then, somehow, they were all struck by a single bolt of lightening.


Then I switched to a different dream.


I was walking along a street in Chicago in the middle of a grey afternoon.  Hundreds of people crowded the streets and it was difficult to get around.  After walking several miles I eventually made it out of the the crowds of people into a less busy side of town.  I traveled here for a long time and realized it was so late that, even if I were to run back, I would not be able to catch the train back home. I accepted that and continued to walk.  I ran into my old high school classmate Brandon Porter with whom I have not spoken for years.  I yelled across the street, "Hey Porter!  How's it going?"  He waived and replied, "Hey Joe.  Pretty good."  Then we continued along our opposite paths.

I ended up at an interesting building that was part music store, part national parks information center.  I talked to the owner, an old man wearing a green national parks vest with a little trumpet pin.  He told me that Houndmouth had recently played there and that Katie Toupin had left her guitar, her kick drum, and her snare drum there (she doesn't play the drums, at least for Houndmouth, in real life).  He also said that my tripod had also somehow ended up there.  I called Katie up and asked her if she wanted me to bring them to the band.  She said that they were staying at my grandpa's house, so I could just meet them there.

I then sat down on the floor and pondered how I would return the musical equipment to Houndmouth without having a vehicle in Chicago.


Then I awoke.

Dream #499 (April 10, 2013) Gorilla Taxman

So close.


I was living in a very tall hotel.  The stairway to the rooms was located inside this square prism of a building, and the room were only located on one side of that building.  Every hall and every room had a light yellow wallpaper plastered to it, and they were all set to 68 degrees.  This hotel also had no ground floor; rather, it rested atop an eternal black abyss.

I returned home (to the hotel) carrying two brown paper bags full of vegetables and loaves of French bread.  I walked in at the bottom and climbed a dozen sets of stairs, which, for some reason, were built on alternating sides of the hotel so that I  had to walk down the hallway of every floor to make it to the next ascending stairway.

When I finally reached my room (the third to last room at the top floor), I, with great finesse, managed to pull out my keys, unlock and open my door, and safely set the groceries onto my dining room table.  I proceeded to unload the tomatoes, heads of lettuce, potatoes, ears of corn, etc. into my cupboards.  When I was about done, I heard a knock on the door.  I left the groceries and opened the door after peering the the people at the little taxman before me.

This guy was actually not a guy at all.  He was a gorilla, yet I treated him and thought of him as a man. He was wearing a suit and tie and was carrying a briefcase, from which he pulled out a large stack of papers and handed them to me.  The gorilla-taxman explained without words (mainly using gestures and eye contact) that the paperwork had to be completed in one hour, or else I would go to debtor's prison.

I panicked and, after grabbing the papers, slammed the door in his face and rushed into my bedroom.  I closed the blinds of my window that overlooked the city and turned on a red lamp next to my desk and began working like a madman for what felt like hours.  I flew through page after page, but the pile seemed to never end.

Finally, I had only about ten pages left to finish when I heard a knock on the door.  I looked up at a clock in my room and saw that an hour had passed.  I ran to the door, with the papers in my arms, and saw through the peep hole that the gorilla was there, with two cops, waiting for me.  I wasn't ready!

I kicked my own door open and leaped over the cops and the gorilla taxman and even over the guardrail of the hallway.  I began falling down past the several floors in the hotel as onlookers waived to me.

Before falling into the black abyss below me, I managed to grab onto the safety rail of the first floor's hallway, the papers still tucked under my arm.  I held on the rail with one hand and shoved the papers into my pocket with the other.  Then I started swinging like a monkey on the rails as I headed for the exit.  I saw that the cops and the gorilla were nearing my location, so I tried to sling a web from my wrist like Spider-Man, but that didn't work, so I continued to swing toward the exit.

I finally made it.  I was met there by a half gorilla-half rhino wearing grey pants and a purple vest.  I was at first scared of this thing, but he managed to (without words) tell me that he would buy me as much time as he could, but I would have to try to finish the paper work.

I thanked him and began to run again.  I went out the exit of the hotel, which led to a grey hallway with doors lining both sides of the hallway.  I ran all the way to the end of the hall, where rested a final door.  I tried to open it, but it was locked, so I opened the door to the left of it and jumped in the room (which resembled an office that my dad once worked in) and frantically began to finish the final papers.

I was on the last page when I heard the rhino-gorilla say that he couldn't help me anymore.  I popped my head out the window and saw the whole community coming after me.  Some were even carrying torches and pitchforks.

I took a quick but deep breath and finished the last page just as the crowd got to the door.  I held the papers above my head so that the people would know that I had finished.  The rhino-gorilla started the crown in a slow clap that lead to an applause by the time I made it to the end of the crowd where the gorilla-taxman stood, arms crossed.  He ripped the papers out of my hands, sifted through them, then signaled to the crowd that they were indeed complete, and everyone began to celebrate.  The vest-wearing rhino-gorilla came a patted me on the back.


Then I awoke.

Dream #498 (April 6, 2013) Grey City Speaker/Shrinker

Dream.

I was in a twilight city made up of gray and pale yellow stone and brick buildings.  I walked down the smoothly paved sidewalk that ran along an empty, narrow street.  I entered, through a cage, into a small Greek restaurant and waited in line to order a gyro.  After receiving my food, I left the restaurant and ran into an acquaintance outside and began chatting with him (a 40-year-old man whom I don't know in real life).  This hairy fellow told me of his fishing business and of his newfound love.  I listened and bode him farewell after congratulating him on his recent successes.

I walked to a great tower and entered into it.  After taking a tight elevator (with a 1-skinny-person capacity) up 23 floors I walked into a massive indoor stadium.  People cheered for me, giving me a standing ovation, as I walked up to a small podium that looked down onto the massive, faceless crowd. There were a few elementary school and high school classes that had received special tickets to hear me speak, and they sat right in front of the podium.

I began to deliver an address with charisma and power to the people there, talking about all sorts of subjects, from community building to running camps, from filming to photography.  They were excited about everything I had to say, and they let me know by applauding often.  When I finished my speech, I knelt down from the podium and had a more intimate discussing with the students about the communities at their respective schools.

After that, I left the tower and headed back down the street to my hotel.

Outside the building that I had been set up in, I ran into my friend Caitlin Geeslin.  She seemed excited to see me and after talking with me about some of her recent endeavors (mostly cross-country journalism), she invited me to her room in the next building to meet her friend Aaron.  I asked who he or she was, and Caitlin informed me, somewhat ashamedly, that he was her husband (I'm still not sure why she seemed so ashamed to tell me this).  I agreed to meet him, then Caitlin began having second thoughts.  I told her I had an idea.

I ran up seven flights of stairs to my large but empty hotel room and grabbed a sparkling vile and drank a potion in it.  Caitlin had followed me and when she entered, I told her how I had discovered a solution that would allow me to change size at will.  I shrunk down the the size of a peanut and told Caitlin to carry me in her pocket so that I could meet her husband without him meeting me (I'm still not sure why this was a big deal).

She put me in her pocket, but that was terribly dark and uncomfortable, so I climbed out up onto her shoulder as she walked to her room.  She entered it and nobody was there.  She put me on the ground and I grew back to normal size.  I told her that I should be leaving because I had some preparing to do for my next project, so I left.

Outside I found a woman with black hair that had heard about me and had a few questions for me.  I agreed to answer them if she  could walk with me back to my room while asking them.

The questions she asked were much more deep and personal than I anticipated.  They were questions about the afterlife and about love and about purpose and about my mental state.  I managed to say things to her that, though they weren't technically answers, they appeased her.

She asked if she could observe me for a while as I worked, and I reluctantly agreed.  I found myself shrinking as I tried to write while she was watching me.  Soon enough I was again the size of a peanut.

Then I awoke.

Dream #497 (March 28, 2013) Super Powers and Jungle Hot Wheels

A pair of bizarre dreams for the price of one night.


I stood in the doorway of Koontz Lake Missionary Church.  I hesitated to enter in, because I had become a different person.  Inside the church an all-nighter was taking place (with both kids and adults oddly enough) and people were running all about, having a lot of fun.  I knew that I could bring danger.  I stepped inside anyway.

I saw that in the sanctuary people were watching "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" on the big screen.  That interested me, but I didn't want to start watching it part way through, so I continued on up to the Fellowship Hall.  There I found over one hundred people dining and conversing.  I walked in and grabbed a plate and began tossing food onto it.

Suddenly, through a far window of the Hall, a bolt of blue energy shattered through and struck the drum set, causing it to burst.  Everyone began to scream and run away, except for me, because I had half expected something like that to happen, for I was Spider-Man.

Not too long after the explosion came Shocker (a villain from Spider-Man for those who don't know) through the window and Rhino through the wall.  I thought I was the only one left in the Hall, but when I turned to double-check, I saw that three people had stayed to watch me: Bennett Wilson, Jenna Jackley (two people from a traveling band that played at Prairie Camp last summer), and a young Glen Hansard.  I told them that they should leave, but they persisted in staying, saying they would help me out if they found a way to do so.  Glen brought up the argument that Batman had no super powers, which was indeed a good point.

I turned back to face my opponents.  I shot a burst of thick webbing at Rhino, holding him up for a moment.  My spider-sense warned me of a bolt from Shocker, so I was able to jump out of the way.  I shot a line up to the ceiling and swing-kicked Shocker in the face, knocking him out cold.  Rhino came charging at me, and I jumped up out of his path and landed on top of him.  I put my wrist up to his face and shot web down his throat, causing him to choke and pass out.  I signaled the police via a transmitter on my belt and through the two bodies outside for pickup.  That was easy.

After I had finished with them, Bennett, Jenna, and Glen asked me if I could make them super-heros.  I told them I probably shouldn't, because it would change their lives forever.  They persisted, and I gave in to them.  I went to working building three cocoons of red and blue webbing, and each person entered their own.  I told them to relax, and after about five minutes, they were ready to emerge.  I expected them all to have the same powers as me, but I was wrong.

Glen had the ability to shoot balls of fire from his fists (and to light his hair and beard on fire on command).  Bennett, unfortunately, only developed a chest of steel, which was kind of cool, but not all that useful.  Jenna looked normal at first, but then electric fields began to encircle her and her eyes turned solid blue.  Her hair, which was brown, turned red, and somehow a yellow-and-red outfit formed atop her normal clothes.  She looked rather frightening, and even I was scared of her.  She walked up to me and said, "Let's get to the sanctuary before we miss The Two Towers."

We all went down and began watching the movie.


Then I awoke, but it was still the middle of the night, so I fell back asleep.


This time I was in a jungle that sat just off of a major U.S. highway.  My brothers (Matt and Mike) and my dad were with me, and were were preparing some sort of attraction that would draw people off the highway so that they would purchase produce from my dad's produce stand.  I was down near the river, working on building a crazy Hot Wheels track with my brothers.  We used the bright orange track to do loops, turns, rises, and falls all around the trees, down over the river, and even out to the highway.  As we built, my brothers and I discussed life.

I decided that it would be cool for the Hot Wheels car to actually drive along the highway, and for some reason I thought I would test it out with a real car.  This car was an old gray piece of junk, but it sure could move.  I got it up to 90 mph before hitting a giant ramp I had built out of a semi truck and a couple other pieces of metal.  I flew high into the air, yet I managed to land safely on the road.  It was so much fun that I turned around on the one-way highway to do it again.  A semi was coming right at me in my lane, and I forced it off the road, causing it to jump the ramp I had built.  Even the semi landed safely (and it also turned around, probably to jump the ramp again).  Then I remembered that I had actually built the ramp for a Hot Wheels car, so I drove back (the wrong way on the road) to the jungle area.

Matt and Mike were finishing up with hanging black lights from the trees.  Dozens of people had started to gather around for the opening Hot Wheels car.  It was a small white and red car, and I had the honor of releasing it down the track for the first time.  Everyone ran alongside the car as it flew down the track, turning, looping, rising, and falling.  It dipped into the river and came out successfully, then entered onto the highway.  It sped along the track, all the way to the last ramp, and jumped it successfully.  I launched off the track for a few seconds, but found its way back on and through to the finish line.  For some reason the car stopped abruptly just before crossing it completely.

Even though the car hadn't quite made it all the way, everyone began to cheer.  They lifted me and my brothers up and sang a song about us.  It was wonderful.

We went back to the produce stand (it was getting dark by now, and the black lights were doing their job of giving the place an interesting vibe).  My dad told us that he had sold more produce on that day than he had sold the whole month.  I turned and looked toward the road and saw hundreds of people coming to buy even more produce.


Then I awoke.

Dream #496 (March 26, 2013) The Daughter

Wow.


I was inside the sanctuary  of Koontz Lake Missionary Church where my father was delivering a message to a packed congregation.  I was sitting in a different pew than I normally sat growing up (I was in the front row, but clear off to the right of the stage).  As my dad spoke, everyone in the congregation was standing and listening, even the elderly.

Mid-service, a skinny young woman with long brown hair, leading a brown-haired 5-year-old girl, walked in from the back of the sanctuary.  She came right to me and handed me the child, without saying a word.  I wasn't sure what to do when she walked out of the sanctuary.  Apparently I was now a parent.  I knew the child was not of my loins, but for some reason the child had become mine.

I ran with the child out to the dark parking lot and caught up with the girl.  We began to walk down a large hill that led into the houses of Koontz Lake (that doesn't exist in real life).  I started asking her why she was leaving me her child.  She wouldn't respond.  I tried again and again.  Nothing.

I looked up and noticed that she had lead me to a large and strange sort of carnival that was going on.  It was lit by old oil lamps.  Then the 5-year-old asked me if I would take her through the carnival.  I agreed.

We entered an extremely long log cabin that had been constructed in the center of the carnival.  It was a sort of museum/I Spy activity (I used to get those books often from the school library as a child).  The girl was having a wonderful time, asking me questions about everything she was seeing.  I enjoyed explaining things to her, for she seemed incredibly sharp for her age.  The first stage of the cabin looked like an old grocery store.  The second stage more resembled a pawn shop.  In this room I somehow entered into the mind of the little girl and could see things from her perspective.  Every object was fascinating, and I had to touch everything so that I could know it better.

The third stage was a mostly black room with a only a few odd brown pieces of furniture in it.  When I stepped into it, I immediately left the girl's mind and reentered my own mind.  I discovered that I had left the 5-year-old in the cabin by herself, for I was standing in the grass outside, staring at the ferris wheels, one red and one blue, spinning in opposite directions.

I felt terribly guilty, and it was made worse when several people began to gather around me and ask me where my daughter was.  I couldn't answer.

I rushed back into the cabin and found the girl in the third room.  She was sitting alone next to a wall, so I joined her.  She asked me why I wasn't with her.  She sounded deeply saddened by my absence, so sad that I began to cry.  I told her that I would not always be able to be with her, and though that was sad, it was for the best.  I tried to explain to her how somebody could still love another person, even when they aren't together.  I told her to put her hand in mine, and she did.  I said, "Even though I am now letting go of your hand, I am still grasping it in my heart.  We are connected."  She smiled and asked if we could go home, and I said yes.

I took her to my house (a house that I don't recognize in real life).  She was my daughter, and I loved her as if she had always been, knowing she always would be.  I had a fireplace that we started up.  I sat with her and made up a story about a great bearded fisherman who was always searching for a creature he once dreamt about as a child.  She loved the story.


Then I awoke.  Where in the world did that come from?

Dream #495 (March 21, 2013)

What fun.

I was a part of a special team of heroes in this dream, made up of six people: Tommy Lee Jones, a young athletic guy, Chewbacca from Star Wars, Ewan McGregor, a woman in a leather suit, and me.  We were on a secret mission of sorts to rescue some young Japanese political figure from the mob.

The dream began inside of an enormous mansion decorated in white and saturated yellow.  There were many fancily dressed people there (I was even wearing a tuxedo).  I had a tiny speaker in my ear and a microphone in my sleeve, as one would expect.  It was my job to spot the mob boss - an skinny, white-haired man in his sixties with a yellow ascot.

I visually sifted through the guests time after time on the ground floor and was unsuccessful in locating the target.  I passed by the leather woman on my team and we subtly signaled to each other, indicating we would meet out in the dark hallway where there were no other guests.

I saw her enter the hall out of the corner of my eye, waited a few moments, then followed her.

She told me that I was to sneak up to the master bedroom, because it was discovered that the mob boss was supposedly ill and bedridden.  I agreed and began coming up with ways that I could get past the butler-guards roaming all about the house.

I saw a long curtain hanging from an enormous window that looked out to the backyard from the hallway in which I stood.  I immediately climbed up the curtain to the top of the window.  I found a spot in the window that I could open without breaking it, and I squeezed through to the other side.  It was then I realized that the house sat at the edge of a cliff, and if I were to fall, it would be certain death.

I took a deep breath and proceeded to climb up the side of the house to the window of the master bedroom.  I felt so proud of myself when I made it up there, how stealthy and agile I had been.  I thought to myself that I should buy myself some ice cream after finishing the task at hand.

Suddenly the window in front of me burst open and a strong Japanese man (who was also tall) grabbed my hands and began to squeeze and crush them with his monstrous grasp.  I thought it would be the end of me, and I was sad that there would be no ice cream at the bottom of the cliff.

Suddenly, from a nearby evergreen, an arrow flew through the air and planted itself in the chest of my opponent (I knew that Chewbacca had shot the arrow with his crossbow).  He hunched over the window, and I held onto his arms so that I didn't fall.  To my terror, his carcass began to slowly slide from the window.  I tried to climb up the man, but he was too round.

Just in time, Tommy Lee Jones came from inside the bedroom and pulled the dead man and me inside.  We sat in silence for a moment, but it was interrupted by two armed men bursting into the room.  Tommy yelled for me to grab the mob boss (who was lying in a bed next to me) and jump out of the window while he dealt with the gunmen.

I didn't know how I could do as he said and survive, but I began following the orders anyway.  As I carried the frail mob boss to the window, I saw that Chewie had shot a zip line into the side of the house from the pine tree he was sitting in.  I ordered the boss to hold onto me, and I grabbed a fancy coat hanger and zipped out of the house.

We crashed into a tree and fell about fifteen feet to the ground, which was rather painful.  I opened my eyes and saw Chewie standing over me, smiling.  He did his weird growly thing and helped me up and patted me on the back.

I then began to interrogate the mob boss (in Japanese!), asking him where the young political figure was being held.


Then I awoke.

Dream #494 (March 5, 2012)

This was absolutely crazy and scary.


I was riding in a big yellow bus full of adults.  We pulled into the parking lot of Koontz Lake Missionary Church and the lights in the bus began to flicker.  Then a voice could be heard over the speakers, and it said that we were all about to participate in a game, and it would take an emotionally and physically strong person to finish the game victorious.  The voice also said that there could be no escape from the game.

As soon as the voice left, someone on the bus began to scream.  I ran to see what was happening, and a middle-aged woman with curly black hair was bleeding profusely from her stomach.  Suddenly the wall of the bus opened up to the parking lot, and everyone sitting on that side, including the bleeding woman, fell out.

I ran out of the bus to see if they were ok, but they were all being dragged away by an unknown puller.  A young woman ran up to me and grabbed my arm and told me to follow her into safety.  I obeyed.

This gal's name was Amy (I knew that without her telling me so), and she said this game was too dangerous to play, so we should try to escape it.  I reminded her of what the voice had told us, and she said, "Never mind the voice."

We snuck into the church.  Some of the lights were on, but it didn't seem like anyone else was there.  We wandered up into the library, which was dark.  I felt around a bit and found the light switch, revealing the body of a woman, apparently dead in a folding chair.

Amy and I quickly fled the room and tried to leave the church, but all of the doors were sealed shut.  We went down into the basement (I'm not sure why), where none of the lights worked.  Amy and I stayed close as we tried to find a window we could crawl through to escape the building.  I felt Amy grab my arm, and I realized that some unseen person or thing was pulling her away from me against her will.  I pulled back, and had a sort of tug-of-war happening against the unseen opponent.  I finally embraced Amy and threw myself back, freeing her from the grasp.

We both ran ahead, though neither of us could see much of anything.  Finally we saw a glimmer of light coming from a nearby window.  I threw a heavy object (I was unable to see what it was) through the window and helped Amy through it.

As I was following her through the window, I watched helplessly as she was attacked by a dark figure. My pants were caught on the edge of the broken glass, so I was slow to help.  It was too late by the time I was free, for she was gone.  On the ground, I found a piece of paper with "Clay City Docks" written on it.

I ran back to the parking lot where I hopped in my helicopter.  I got it off the ground and began flying over to the docks.  By the time I landed there, the sun was just beginning to come up.  The docks were all clay colored, and the water itself had a brownish hue.  I saw a strange boat with a few dark figures standing on it, apparently waiting for me.

I walked down the dock and encountered a ticket taker.  He told me to give him my ID and my credit card if I wanted to enter the dock.  I, desperate to do what I could do end this violent game, did as he asked.  I stepped onto the boat and found two men in black suits standing beside Amy.

At that moment, I had a revelation.  This whole game had been one elaborate scheme to steal my identity.  Amy smiled at me and handed me a cheap crown.


Then I awoke.

Dream #493 (March 4, 2013)

This was long, but not much happened; therefore the post will be much shorter than the previous post (not that anyone cares).


I was walking for what felt like hours down a paved road in the middle of a vast desert.  There were no signs of life anywhere to be seen or heard.  Sand was continually blowing in my face, and I was often picking it out of my teeth and from under my tongue.

After a long and slow walk, I saw a bald eagle soar above me, which brought me a bit of energy.  Then, out of nowhere, a blue car pulled up beside me and Andrew Jensen (a former classmate of mine in high school) leaned out with window and told me that I was "almost there."  He rolled his window back up and sped off into the sand.

I soon walked up to a baby blue house, which appeared to be falling apart.  I heard the phone ringing inside, so I entered the house and answered it.  It was some woman calling me from a church.  Though I wasn't the man of the house she was trying to reach, she talked to me anyway.  When she talked, I lived out her descriptions, but in my own body.

I was in her story, at a funeral taking place at a small Catholic church.  There were beautiful stained glass windows, and the pews and carpeting was gorgeous.  The flower arrangement was nice, and the priest did a nice job with the ceremony (all of these things were from her point of view).  I kept wanting to turn my attention to the decorations about me and to a mysterious green box sitting next to me on the pew, but I was stuck with her story and her perspective, and I was unable to leave the set path.

We finally finished talking and I was back in the apparently not-so-abandonded home.  As I approached the door to leave, I noticed that under the floor below me (I had to walk over a stage to get to the door) was a huge yellow anaconda snake, sleeping peacefully.  I have an Indiana-Jones-like fear of snakes, and I froze, scared to move in fear that I would wake up the dreadful creature.  My heart was racing.  I looked behind me and realized that there was no other way out of the room.

I began to study the old toys that were strewn across the room, many that I had played with as a kid.  However, the distraction didn't last long, and I was again focused on the snake beneath me.  I decided to just go for it, because I thought the particular snake was a constrictor, so I hopped over it and landed near the door.

Suddenly, the snake lifted its great head and cocked it back as if it were about to strike.

Then I awoke very early in the morning (much earlier than I had wanted to awake).  Somehow there was a bit of light coming from the window, reflecting off the wall beside me in a perfect shape of a snake ready to strike me.  I sprung out of bed and turned on my reading lamp, only to discover that I was free from harm.  I was unable to go back to sleep after that.