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This morning I laid down, intending to get up again shortly afterward.  I was wearing my had, shoes, scarf and coat completely buttoned.  I was even wearing gloves.  Not only that, but I had my backpack on.  So anyway, I laid down and fell asleep for almost two hours.  What will become of me if I can’t get out of the house when I have class to attend?  Well, at least I had some weird dreams…

I dreamed I was on the skytrain, and that there was an unfamiliar lady sitting next to me.  She was wearing a big red coat and had fair skin.  She had long, brown hair with straight bangs and had it all tied back in a braid or something.  She had a grocery bag with her full of grocery items.  I found her friendly and actually ended up talking to her, although I did not really hear her words or what I was saying because I had my headphones on.  It was an instance of being unfamiliar with what to do when confronted with an opportunity to be social; I wasn’t sure if she was being genuinely interested in talking to me or if she was just being friendly and wanted to leave it at that, of which the latter is the usual case.

Anyway, I eventually noticed that she passed me one of her onions.  I was talking about it openly, I guess?  I also eventually decided to take my headphones off so that I could hear her better, and speak with her better.  Again, I don’t really recall what was said.

Then, after she got up for a few moments, I noticed that her onion dropped on the floor.  I picked it up for her and replaced it in her bag.  At this point, we were interacting in a very friendly way.

The skytrain stopped at this point, and I could see, and feel in the car, that we were being rammed gently by an out-of-service car in front of us.  It seemed that the automatically-run skytrain system was able to address the situation well, however, to which I commented that I would have rather it be the reason I missed school today, instead of being delivered there on time after all.  She said, “really?”

The skytrain slowly brought us around corners, which was interesting to see slowly instead of fast, as it usually runs.  When we arrived, I followed her to her campus, as she explained to me that she was enrolled in math classes.  She seemed regretful when she explained that she had to take DVST, or pre-requisite preparatory classes, before she could take the college-level math.  I told her that I could almost guarantee that I was her academic inferior as far as any Maths were concerned.  We got to her school’s front door, at which point I noticed that it was not my school, and told her that we had to part.  And we parted.

I remember barely anything but I thought a few notes would be in the right spirit:

There was something about a parting of ways between two guys who were discussing the sexuality, which had been in question, of one of them.  There was a “dorky” girl in attendance, who seemed to be a few years younger than the two guys by a few years.  The guys themselves seemed about mid/late teenaged.  The one had recently been in a relationship with a woman, but had left her, but I could be wrong about that.  It was also a question that the two guys might be in for a relationship with each other in the future?  The girl expressed interest in having a romantic/sexual relationship with the one guy also, but respected that his sexuality seemed to presently bear the “homosexual label”.  She didn’t seem to be too disheartened by that, either way.

I also recall being in a kind of theatre house, and wanted to watch the plays that were being put on by very young actors.  Macbeth was just on, and they were about to show a new play, starting with “Sh”.  The costumes were all green and gold and medieval-seeming.  The opening scene had a girl come across the stage and open with a sung, introductory monologue sort of thing.  The stage itself was not elevated, but instead seemed to be a converted hotel-lobby that had wooden floors, pillars, all in warm tones.  There was something very interesting about the paneling, too, that seemed to be installed for effect: depending on the way the light shined (or wind blew?) across the various surfaces of the panels, walls and other similar objects on the stage, they would all flash brightly.  Julia was nearby and wanted to go, although I wanted to stay.

Another disjointed memory has me in my kitchen, sitting with Julia, up on the counter beside my sink.  We are smoking a combination of marijuana and “Christmas”-herbs, such as perhaps myrrh.  She asks me how much I would like of each, and I remember asking for more myrrh.  Someone was about to come inside the apartment, or they had already.

Yet another totally disjointed memory: I am riding in a car and am close to the window, which looks out over the sky, many black trees, and flat land which is full of puddles or other shallow bodies of water.  It seems as if I am driving fast, away from civilization.  The window seems cold and has condensation on it.  I am otherwise glued to the sky: it is light, but seems like the day is ending.  The clouds are in an interesting formation; it is as though there are two holograms being projected onto each other; one part of the formation is dark grey, and seems like its in the shape of a country (like Canada or something), and the other formation is like it is made of floating shards of pink glass.  I believe my mother might have been driving.  There was darkness all behind me.

When I got to my destination, the car pulled up in front of a sort of store or something, but I felt like I was high up in the mountains.  It seemed cold and wet outside, but it was not raining, and it was still in the daytime.  It was clear to me that I was about to wait in the back of the car while my mother did something elsewhere.  She poked her head in and thrust a gift at me, for myself and Julia actually; it was a pillow in plastic wrapping.  I’m not sure how I got out of the car, but there is something that happened next in which I was very high off the ground, perhaps in some kind of clock tower, or similar-shaped tower.

And then, of one of my last dreams, I only recall a final image: it was an older Hinata, who is a character from a Japanese series, and she was being addressed by a formal panel of educators in her village.  Her hair was long, straight and black.  The particular style of fighting she used was unique to her, and because she had used it so well or used it to some suddenly-relevant advantage, she was being formally designated as the new teacher of the fighting style in the village.

As I was waking up, I was thinking about a card I had made for someone.  There was a tree on the front, and inside, there was a critique of the card, as if I had submitted it to a teacher.  The critique described the card, which was for a girl, as being evidently by a young man.  It mentioned that there was an air of sadness to the card.  They also commented on the tree as being a symbol, “something to always hang onto”, “sinewy”, etc.  The notes finished off with a remark about being a little too analytical in their critique.

I’ve been tired and scattered the past couple weeks, and especially the past couple of days, to which I’m attributing my poor upkeep of this journal.  But I do try and fill in the spaces between updates here, with updates in my written journal, as I mentioned before…  In a perfect world, I’d be transferring those dreams to this journal, since it seems like I’d have an easier time when I eventually get this place organized.  I want a journal where I can search with keywords.  I wonder if I’ll realize that goal.

Anyway, the meager report for last night (meager, however I dreamt a shitload, and slept forever):

The first half of the night, I only recall that at the end of the dream, I was with a large group of young people, outside.  Most of these young people reminded me of people I went to school with at various points in my life, and we all seemed to be at either my current age, or a little younger.  The world was mostly dirt-earth, like a rockier, barren, desert area with not much vegetation.  It was dark, reddish brown and I do not remember the temperature, but we were dressed for either summer or spring.  It was daytime, but I don’t recall looking at the sky.

I was directed to see that there were very large bowling pins erected in the distance.  They were probably about the height of a tether-ball pole and seemed like they had been out there for a while; they were weathered-seeming, and dark brown in colour.  Someone told me we were going to use them to play a game.  I believe the person who told me was an older version of a childhood friend of mine, Cody, whom I’ve now seen in my dreams twice this week or so.  He was the closest person to me throughout this dream.

Most of the kids all spread out over a distance of about… I don’t know, 3×5 meters?  A little more? – amongst the bowling pins.  Cody and I climbed up one wall, and all the other kids faced us from down below.  We were standing on a narrow ledge.  There was a wall behind me made of rocky earth, but there was an opening and a couple of windows or something cut into it, through which I could turn around and see that the ledge was actually a plateau that continued into the distance behind me.  This area also seemed to be cast in shade.  There were a few other players there that I didn’t see before: a girl and a couple of guys, all who behaved as though they were my allies.  One of the girls reminded me of a sporty girl I baked sweets for in high school; she wasn’t very popular, her name was Katherine and she had freckles, red-brown, shoulder-length hair, pale skin and blue eyes.  She wore shorts and a t-shirt.

Anyway, Cody and I seemed to be a special kind of player, the same way that goalies are special players.  We also had to hold large, dead fish by their tails in order to carry out our roles.  I can’t remember why or what we did with them, but it involved swinging them.  I found this aspect of the game to be hilarious, and couldn’t stop laughing at it.  I playfully smacked one of the fish against the wall behind me and looked to my friends to see if I wasn’t the only one so amused by this huge, dead fish.  I do remember looking out over the kids and watching for if something was coming at us, so I wonder if we were supposed to use the fish for batting at things?  Cody seemed quite interested in the playing field.

Narrowing the images down for this dream:

Desert (Red, brown)
Bowling Pins (Dark brown)
Fish (Silver, Grey)
– Dead, big, gutted
-Batting, smacking
Team sports
(Dark-skinned boy, perhaps reminds me of Amrit)

2nd Dream Fragment: I don’t remember why, but I was lost in a China town of a country/city I didn’t know.  It was brightly lit all around, and the buildings were mostly white in colour.  I was in a taxi, driving very fast, and as we made our way, turning down many roads, I realized slowly that I wasn’t actually in the taxi, but I was on the taxi, holding onto it illegally.  Someone else was inside the taxi, and as the realization came over me, I detected that I was not supposed to be doing this, and it coincided also with my losing my grip on the vehicle.  I was suddenly off the taxi, left in the middle of nowhere, and I also realized that I left my wallet (in? how?) the taxi, which was long gone.  I thankfully remembered that I had a couple of important cards, including my Mastercard, in my back pocket: at least I was not without a means to buy things I might need.  But I was missing my ID and other important cards.  I thought: how insane that so many important things are kept in such a small package, like a wallet, making it so easy for you to lose such a great deal just by misplacing something especially easy to lose?  How was I going to get it back, and prevent it from happening again?

I started to wander through the city and eventually found my way to a very narrow alleyway, hemmed in by walls, old fabric (laundry lines?), boxes, and other, obscure, city garbage.  It seemed to be suffocating under all the clutter that was caving in on it, but it didn’t seem dangerous.  For some reason, I thought that I should be able to push through to the other side, so I entered the alley.  I had a couple boxes of old Chinese food with me, so when I entered the alley, many cats emerged and approached me.  They all looked like emaciated strays but not likely to attack, but there were so many that it felt invasive.  I left the cats the Chinese food and tried to continue going forward, climbing over boxes, feeling trapped.

On my left, I pushed my way through a few obstacles until I realized that I was right next door to someone’s beautiful, personal courtyard-slash-garden-place, which opened onto their concrete (ground-floor) patio, which opened into their home.  It was a tall, pale man with wavy, dark brown hair.  He was Caucasian and wore dark-rimmed glasses.  I got out of the alley and trespassed onto his property.

I looked to my left, where he had walked past me at first but not noticed me, and I could see that this little ‘backyard’ was actually slightly below the ground-level of a road outside: it was mostly all in shadow, but at the top of the wall several feet above his head, through a wooden lattice of some sort, bright light came through.  He turned around and then noticed me, and I explained myself.  After he heard my story, which I retold with great drama (I felt like it was all true, I felt very upended by all the difficulty I was having), he felt sad for me and also fond of me.  He made me feel welcome.  He also helped me get out of the alley, and took me to a corner outside his house, where it seemed like I might be able to find my way easier.

We said goodbye, and I was left to my own devices.  The streets were busy and the sky was blue, with clouds.  I think there might have been a sea or something like that too, so perhaps it was a port-city.  I can’t remember a large chunk here, but I eventually reappeared at school, in a classroom being taught by my Grade 8-science teacher.  She had short-blonde hair, glasses, pale skin and I didn’t think she was a very good teacher at all.  At the back of the class, at my desk, she looked at this little workbook I had taken with me to Chinatown and had to fill out based on what I did there, which I basically forgot about.  So as we flipped through it, she marked me accordingly, and I got a zero on at least one thing that had been utterly forgotten altogether.  I felt like it wasn’t fair but like there was nothing else to do but to accept the consequences.

There were line drawings of internal organs in the little book, and I also recall thinking to myself that I might lose marks for not colouring it all in, which I had done to previous works, and earned praise for.

Taxi (Mostly white, cyan stripes)
Cats (Grey, starving)
Leftover food
Tall, Long-haired, Bespectacled White Man (seen him a few times in dreams now)
Concrete, personal garden
Science Teacher
Unfinished Assignment

3rd Dream Fragment: I’m walking down a residential street lined with very beautiful, expensive townhomes and tiny, manicured lawns in the daytime.  It’s very quiet.  The street slopes gently, and I have already walked around this way before once in the dream.  For some reason, I’m doing it again, and walk all the way down until I see that I’ve come to “Royal Avenue”.  I turn right, and circle back up around and continue on the otherside of the block.  It occurs to me that I’m doing a circle, and I’m aware that this is necessary, for some reason that I can’t remember anymore.

I eventually come to the end of the street and turn right.  There is a house that I enter right on the end (the only house, or perhaps one of three, on the very end of the street), and I’m familiar with it; this is the home of a recently-former girlfriend of mine, whom I’ve only just broken up with.  I have had the sudden idea that because I became so familiar with her family, there is good reason for me to go inside and to give them a respectable, last impression, by saying hello and goodbye.  I know she will be there, but I would rather it not keep me from making my good impression on her family members, who I am actually fond of.

Inside, her grandparents (who look like my actual grandparents) and other family members are all gathered around in a living-room sort of setup.  There is furniture and other personal affects all around.  They seem to be a well-off family.  She is there too: she is shorter than me, with short, orange-brown hair and light skin.  She doesn’t say much.  I can’t remember a lot of this scene at all, but I do recall going to each of the family members and giving them a hug or saying something friendly to them.  It was clear that I was about to leave the house on a final note.  They all treated me well either way.

At one point, her mother or grandmother thought that her and I should hug, but we did not.  It’s occurring to me now that these family members of “hers” all resemble my actual, waking-life family members.

My mother’s ex was also there, and for some reason, overheard her and I talking about DMT or something else, but he had misheard I think?  He came in and immediately piped up about wanting to be shared with, but I informed him that he misheard, and that I was actually looking for chocolate soymilk.  I really was looking for chocolate milk, and I believe that I either helped myself or my mother helped me to find some.  Not sure how this little piece fits into the rest of it though.

Family Neighbourhood
Chocolate Milk
Mother’s Ex

4th Dream Fragment:
The only thing I remember from this dream is being inside a large, busy mall that was coloured mostly in greys and seemed kind of dim and underground-ish in general.  I was told by some lady whom I found to be loud, bothersome and superficial, about her previous-visit to the mall, and in particular, to a sort of vets office that we were nearby.  She was recounting how she had, with her friends, gone to this place and picked up this expensive, “As-Advertised” invention for animals (A “pod” of some kind).  It had a few compartments and could be gotten inside of by the animal, who could run around in circles in the main, large area or perched inside of on the top.  I’m sure there were other aspects to it, but I forget now.  I wasn’t too impressed, but I came around to the outside of the office to see it through the glass, where it was on display, anyway.

The wall that separated the office from the rest of the mall was completely glass, and I don’t know why I didn’t go inside, but instead I just sat in front of where the toy was on display for public-testing.  It was pushed up against the glass, so I was quite close to it either way.  I watched as an excited, white, dopey-looking puppy got inside the main compartment, which was stuffed with old blankets, and ran around like hell.  It really seemed to be enjoying itself, so I considered that the invention wasn’t all that bad.

But then I saw that my cat, Alicia, was being put inside it, and I hesitated because I doubted that she would enjoy it.  I thought that she might be offended by the odor of all the previous animals who had come before her to test the invention.  Also, she wasn’t a dopey, excited puppy who liked to run around in circles inside toys at any given moment’s notice.

I was right that she didn’t seem to want to be put inside the toy.  She laid down and put her head close to the glass, as if to communicate that she wanted to be removed and wanted to take comfort in my presence.  As she nodded her head down, I noticed that to my right, some lady disappeared in through a door that was off the main part of the mall, so it was perhaps a bathroom?  It might have been my mother, but I don’t think it was.

My mother did appear shortly thereafter anyway.  She asked me about preparations for Alicia with regards to a visit to see the vet, specifically about the “Brown Recluse Spider“, which involved several months’ advance preparation for some reason.  I hesitated, not really understanding what she was talking about, and also hesitating because I just don’t like getting that involved with professionals.

Blonde, Superficial Lady
Vets Office
Glass Wall
Pet Invention
White Puppy
Mall Bathroom
Brown Recluse Spider

I walked down a path with an old childhood friend, Krista, who is black and is actually a former best friend of mine.  We had been walking and talking for quite a while.  The path opened up to a very large, open air garden with a lot of whites, blues, greens and dark blue water.  It was enclosed by slightly-inclined, grassy slopes that, on the tops of the hills, were very tall trees.  No one else was around.  We sat at the edge of the water, on the grass, and watched the activity there.

She saw a little, blue caterpillar swimming in the water.  He was having trouble and she expressed concern and surprise that he was swimming at all.  I saw a two-leafed plant which was just two fragile stems with tiny leaves on the end of each, and I said that if I were to choose something to be in the garden, it would be that plant.  As I touched it, it moved around in the water.

Then we left.

As we were leaving, we followed the path that ran along our left of the huge garden, along the leftmost edge of it..  There was a rocky path that someone had dug out of the side of the hill running alongside the right of the path; it was studded with flat, white stones.  A few feet up, someone had cut out another area just under the top of this natural wall, and put a bunch of house-chairs.  There were about 6 or 7 chairs and they did not match each other.  They looked like they belonged in a dining room or something.  I hesitated to approach them, but someone near us, and Krista, assured me somehow that the gardens maintainer’s allowed people to sit on them.  I think Krista sat on one of them.   She also disappeared beyond the top of the hill and I followed her after considering that I would sit on one of the chairs too.

We walked on the top of this hill and a few others had joined our midst now, but I forget what they said or what they looked like now.

I heard Julia singing, but I could not hear her.  I imagined the notes where they would be located on a scale.  She was not just using her voice, but using a ‘house’ instrument of some kind that was on sale.  It was a dark-stained house with a lot of glass in it, and long, narrow strips like huge, flat piano keys (but dim and grey- cloured) that would light up as the note was played back for the user.  I was imagining the notes on a scale because at first, I was averse to hearing the sounds, but not because they sounded bad.  There was something else preconditioned in my mind to hearing music which made me immediately shrink away from it, and imagining them as they were – something that I should enjoy – in their simple, musicial notation-form, seemed to help.

Then I turned around and saw something that appeared familiar to me.  It was a very, very large, huge, dark brown house.  It was so dark that it was almost black.  It was a kind of amusement-attraction type thing that had been abandoned and was no longer in use, like the music house behind us, but much more sinister in nature.  It was a kind of haunted house, a thrill-seeker activity, in which you navigated through its myriad doors to avoid death, and I imagined you could die in many ways, however I also knew that dying simply meant you appeared again behind the house.  I had personally felt like I had used it before and had died in it, and had memories of opening a door and finding jagged spikes for example.

The front of it was lined with doors, and inside each door, another door could be opened on all 3 sides.  It was as if each door opened up into a very small closet without walls, but all doors.  It seemed to me that some of the doors were made of glass too, but none had any depth of visibility – all the glass was very dark brown or frosted.  I could also hear laughing and voices come from inside, and the sounds seemed to emanate from many different layers.  Julia had already gone inside right away, and I was a little nervous about it.  Outside, I waited with a few of the people we had arrived with, whom all seemed a little afraid by the house too.  One of the people was  short female with tan, short hair and a fair complexion.  I ran along the front of the house and knocked on a few doors, got a few laughs, and also tried to test (nervously) the laughter by laughing first at a door.

After a few minutes, I was sure that Julia had to have run into trouble by now.  I ran around the back of the house and was surprised again by how huge it was.  I looked to the top of the house, which I could only barely see, and thought about if she would be surprised when she appeared there, since I thought the roof was where the dead user always appeared.  But a kind of light appeared and started to swirl, with little gobs or orbs of brighter glowing, in addition to a sort of ringing sounding in the air, on the ground, behind the house, and I knew that it would be Julia appearing.  I also noticed that night was starting to fall.

This alley of sorts that we were in, was between the haunted hell mirror house thing, and another house, which I didn’t get a chance to look at.

Only fragments today.

I remember being at a table in my old elementary school, Grade 5 classroom.  We were sitting with our desks all pushed together, with about 4 on either side, and reading books or something.  I took out a book which I had almost finished, and the cover looked like it was a book of Dostoevsky’s.  In fact, I’m sure it was by Dostoyevsky, as I’m sure his name was mentioned.  I looked inside and saw that there were a number of times that the term “alter” was mentioned, and I thought that the person next to me might notice, and notice that it was becoming something typical of me to be reading about this subject matter.

In the book, the images came to life in my imagination.  I saw a line of people who were traveling together, through a city, and were at the end of their story, which seemed to be about 500-600 pages long.  There was someone being carried on each of their shoulders.  The colours in the city were light and brown-tinged, or sandy-hued.  They seemed eclectic and unpredictable.

There was one character who was especially unusual and seemed apart from the rest.  He was in a dirty, white suit and had long hair.  He had a pale complexion.  There were other eccentricities about his attire, but I can’t be sure of them anymore.  Anyway, his name was ART.  He was also effeminate.  He seemed dangerous to me.  He took out a gun and used it to kill a number of people I think?  He was a central character in some action that happened while I read, anyway, and I forget why he did that.  He might have been someone riding on someone else’s shoulders.

Also, I remember that at the table, a boy sitting on the other side of the table, to my left, took a picture of me.  He reminded me of a childhood friend of mine, “Kenny”.  He was kind of pudgy but mostly just a cute, geeky kid who seemed quite young.  Anyway, he did his picture-taking without asking, so I was annoyed.  The picture came out not as intended, however: my head was down and I was frowning.  I guess he really wanted a picture of my face?

I have a random image of going to one of my pyschologist’s office, too.  I was a bit late and she was treating me with indifference because of it.  Her whole tune changed just because I was a little late, and that was annoying.  She was trailing off and I was trying to ignore it, because I just wanted to get the session started.  But as I did, I started trailing off too, and I thought, “I might be switching now…” and then I don’t recall anymore.

The last image I recall is of me standing at my current apartment’s window.  I saw an arm of my ivy plant, which had grown very thickly, but only in this narrow arm, which was smushed up against the window, outside of which was daytime light.

Ugh, so frustrating to sit here feeling all my dream-memories fall through my fingers like sand.  Guess I should have written them out as soon as I woke up.  Next time.

There was a swingset outside, and I got onto one of them to swing.  There were other people around me, some of them kids.  I remember watching as someone wanted to swing in a dangerous way.

To our right, in the distance, was a field and beyond that, some kind of school and playground.  There was a fence at the bottom of a small, grassy hill behind the swingset.  To our left, another field extended.

There was a little boy nearby who I watched closely.  he was using some rocks to play dangerously as well, either hurting himself or hurting animals.  When I approached him, I advised him to play more safely, especially as a very long, thick worm was approaching us.  I told him not to hurt it.  But as it encroached, I made for us both to back away.  A rattle snake appeared.  It was clear that we were both in danger.  I guided us away but he was still bitten.  There were many snakes suddenly.  The snakes were able to fling their venom as we made our way across the field.  I had to carry him at one point I think.  I also bumped into some childhood friends.

I recall it being very stressful to avoid the snakes, and that there was someone nearby who was trying to apprehend them by applying their thumbs to two spots on the backs of the rattlers, near their heads.  It was a very dangerous trick that didn’t seem to have any affect at all, and was grossing me out to watch, since the rattlers head changed shape so fluidly, as if it didn’t have any bones.  The boy was bitten more than once I think.

When I went back, I told the daycare workers about the boy’s bites and that he needed to see the doctor.  I had already been on the list, and was taken off.  There were two, adult, Asian workers and other children all around another swingset, closer to the school.  I went into some little booth or hut and helped some taller, Asian, young guy with bites or blemishes on his back.  One especially needed attention.  He complained that he usually used needles, but laughed as he did so.  Then he left and I didn’t see him again.

Somehow, I was in a restaurant suddenly, embedded deep in an old daycare.  there was a very cute little Japanese waitress whom allowed me to sit in a booth in her busy restaurant.  She was all bubbles and happiness, glad to hear from me.  I went away from my booth to encounter some people I recognized from elementary school in a hallway: Christ K. and Keith, and perhaps a couple others.  I remember looking at Chris and thinking about how he had recently had to kill someone and that it was not the only time; he had killed two people, with a gun, in his life, due to exceptional circumstances.  I wondered how it was that he could continue on like he normally did, having killed someone.

I went back to talk to the Japanese girl and saw that my booth had been filled.  She and her friends interacted with a lot of laughter and affection.  It became a point that was mentioned, how I did not have friends like that, and actually had a lot of strange encounters instead to deal with, including having murderers for “friends” (friends in italics on purpose, as Chris doesn’t really talk to me).  She acted surprised.

I forget now, but I also recall being with her and with a few others as we exited the building.  We came out through some kind of portal or other doorway that I’m not familiar with, into the back courtyard of the daycare-esque building.  Tall grasses had overgrown everything, including a blue-grey mosaic on the ground, laid with thick slabs that were arranged in a decorative, circular pattern.  I wondered, and asked if she was familiar with it.  She seemed to slow her bubbly nature down when she saw it, and got lost in a reverie, as if thinking hard or otherwise affected by it.

I then remember being in a car, driving along a narrow roadway over some water.  I was going with some people I knew, perhaps Julia or my family.  Anyway, my phone rang or I got a text from someone who asked me where I would be staying in the next couple days.  I said that I had no plans.  The boy on the other end said that was good news, because he might have to enlist me and another boy to stay overnight at his restaurant, which was failing, and would need attendants if it was abandoned.  He called it, “Mick’s”, or something.

When I got to the restaurant, we were all surprised to see that it was busy and had apparently been redone.  We were lead inside immediately and brought to a very small, round, white table.  As I was walking down the hall towards our table, I got a text from Steve: “I was awake”; it was a cryptic message that I interpreted to mean, “I was awake when you told (the Japanese girl?  In the morning?) about the murders of Chris”.  I have no other clue what he could be talking about.  Steve sat at one end, and I sat on the other, next to empty chairs on either side of me.  I thought Julia would sit in one, Jen (Steve’s wife) would sit, and Jen’s baby would be additionally seated at some point, too.

I have memories of a dream taking place in my old apartment, which I shared with my Mother’s Ex.  He was there in the dream, as was my mother and my little, half-brother.  There was an issue about me not being able to find my uniform for combat sports.  I was growing very frustrated and was climbing over a lot of junk in my room, pushing aside hangers full of clothes and in general, found the place to look like some kind of forgotten, back cargo storage area of a failed clothing store.  My mom was yelling in the background, frustrated.  I also couldn’t find my shorts?

I interacted with my mother’s ex briefly.  he was showing me how he had left me two containers of food from a restaurant he had been two; one was a cinnamon bun or two, and one was a container of tomato-sauce-and-spaghetti.  I was busy while he told me about it, and he noticed; he said, “You don’t sound so enthusiastic” or something like that.

I also remember but don’t remember when, that an alter of mine had said something had “changed”, and I can vaguely sense that they meant that things had “changed” in their opinion of Julia because of something she had said.  Can’t be sure.

Don’t really remember my dreams well lately, except for random flashes and images.

Had a couple half-lucid dreams in which I saw some things that I have dreamt about before:

I was sitting beside a girl in class, and we were looking at letters that we had written for each other.  On hers, her name, which usually starts with J, started with an “E” and was something like Emerry.  She said she was quite a handful as a child, and I got the feeling that I would read more about that in her letter.

I woke up and dreamt about still being on my bed immediately, or rather, was lucid dreaming it.  I suddenly remembered that I had gotten some information before falling asleep the previous night that an alter of mine might have told me that its name was “changed”, and that it started with an “E”.  I couldn’t recall the name in the dream of the girl, so I focused on the intention of finding that letter again in my hand so I could look at it.  As I did, immediately, everything started to go much fuzzier; it was like I was being denied that information.  So I let it go.

Then I did something else in bed, which I don’t recall.  I think there was something to do with a large spider with many, many legs (30, 40 – lots) that I was trying to avoid.

I went out into my apartment and saw that the door was open, which annoyed me.  On the floor in front of the door was a ring of keys that were attached to another, smaller ring of keys.  Altogether, there must have been over 10-15 keys on it.  There were a lot.  It looked like it had been discarded.

I turned around, wondering if my landlord’s assistant had been there earlier and then had left?  I walked into the living room, which was now laid with carpet.  On the opposite wall were hanging 3 or 4, flat, metal frame-like objects and I did not know what they were.  There was also some kind of Christmas tree or two around.

The house became my mother’s house.  I went into the kitchen wearing just boxers and looked like I had just been sleeping.  There were children at the window.  I went into the dining room, where my mother’s ex and my little brothers were.  I heard from the kitchen, and then saw when I turned around, that the children were passing each other/climbing through the window.  I told them not to do that.

Julia appeared.  She called my mother’s ex “heartless” because he didn’t want to let one of my brothers play outside.

I then became very interested by something on the TV in the living room, which was quite dim and surreal-seeming.  There was a music video playing by a favourite band of mine.  It was animated in a darker style.  I can’t recall what actually took place in the video however.  I might have been singing along to it or something.  I then moved away from the TV, to the stairs.

I got accepted somehow into a boarding school where French is only/mostly spoken and the main course of study was music.  It was a very ideal situation, obviously.

I traveled to get to the school via bus or some similar means; it took a bit to arrive, and I was traveling on my own.  The weather was cool.  The time was day.  The light was all white, as though the sun were behind clouds most of the time.

I arrived at the school with worries: I don’t really speak French as well as I used to anymore I felt, and I’m not a very talented musician, either.  But I met with an older, smart-looking woman who I understood to be some kind of headmistress, and the impression I got from her was that it was perfectly all right to be at any level in anything, basically.

I had a light-purple piano with me, which I had won from an older school of mine through some kind of essay I had written?  I don’t recall this for certain.

So I went to my room while everyone else was in classes.  My room was on an upper floor (if not the top), the right, was very modestly-sized and had windows.  The bed had drawers built into it, so I went about unpacking my clothes: jeans, and shirts.  I noticed that a teacher was eyeing me as I did this, so I thought that I should be doing something ‘responsible’; folding clothes seemed responsible enough.  I rehearsed the words I knew in French already, and happily could access at least the ones I was trying to access (basic words for objects around me).  I looked forward to the immersion that would rapidly hone my speaking ability.

Some other kids started to come into the room at this point; a few younger boys and a few around my age.  It was a point that I appeared a lot younger than I was.  But no one made a big deal out of it.

Then it seemed that everyone was either in between classes or that classes were finished for the day, since the floor filled up with kids and everyone seemed to be mingling.  A teacher I recognized entered my room, Mrs. Byron from elementary school’s grade 5: she was dark-skinned with short, wavy black hair, aquiline nose (exhaggeratedly) and was quite short.  She spoke with an accent.  She was interviewing me about my music background and the origins of my piano.  I told her I had won it to reassure her that it was not a piece of junk, as I suspected she was wondering if I knew about how to select and keep a quality instrument.

I said, “None of our music majors were able to get it…”, a point of interest and irony to me, at least, haha.  Not that I could play it.  But evidently playing ability was not a factor.

The scene shifted and we all moved out of my room.  We went into a common area that was divided into two, separated by a half-wall on one side where there was a bathroom, kitchen, dining area, etc.  On the other side of this long room were sitting areas, windows, and other things that probably made it some kind of socializing center.  There were people busy everywhere; it seemed like they were preparing for some kind of party.  Mrs Byron and I were next to each other at the sink, where she was washing and I was trying to either help her, or talk to her to fill her in about myself and about what she could expect from me.  I understood that she would be instructing singing and song writing because that’s what we were talking about.  She was doubting my ability to handle the work to come, I think.  I told her I had a personal interest in the subject (song writing) under my breath, and noticed Julia as nearby, on a couch, and she smiled at me when I said this.  I was embarrassed, fleetingly.

I also remember floating away from them for a moment.  I wandered into the adjacent area, where there was much talking and older people who were already established in the program.  They were all sitting around a long, dark-brown dining table.  There were people congregated around every place actually, even the bathroom, talking.  I can’t remember why or what else I did there.  I wandered back to Mrs. Byron and tried to help her with the dishes?  I picked something up, or was close against the wall as another, short-haired, sandy/dark-blonde-haired girl appeared and retrieved something, or indicated something to Mrs. Byron.  I was watching the water and then went to Mrs. Byron’s other side.  A knife was taken out of the water, and for some reason it was mentioned that “washing them a third time wouldn’t hurt”, or something like that.

I understood then that the dishes were being washed constantly as they were being used in whatever service for the activities being done on the floor.  The dishes got used and reused constantly, so the washing would never really be done with, hence the washing station.  I looked up through the window and heard thunder as well as saw some darkness in the clouds.

I’m forgetting a part that took place in a large, dark theatre, too, I’m pretty sure…

I’ve been partial to my pen and paper lately, so I haven’t been spending much time here to properly explain the dreams.  I’ve also been under a lot of stress.  Oh well.

The dreams themselves have become a little less frequent, but more interesting, so I’m unhappy that I’m not remembering them.  At first, it was a little overwhelming and I found that I never felt rested, so I purposely avoided smelling the lily oil so as to give myself less work to do the following day, when I knew I’d be busy and feeling under-rested.  But now, even though I’m not feeling as rested as often, I feel like I should be up to trying to pick up the dreams again.

Interesting notes: I saw a hypnotherapist a few times and the dreams reacted to her in specific by giving her a line of words, which she recited during the session, and it elicited an interesting reaction.

I also had a couple of lucid dreams.  One in particular, I think I met one of my alters.  I can’t be sure… but it sure seems like we’ve met properly now.  It was a relief to interact on a plane where we could see each other as separate entities not sharing a body.  So I have to get back to my working toward achieving lucid dreams more often.

Just a few fragments from last night:

At one point, I was with a psychologist I see, and as I talked, my voice changed.  I recall feeling sometimes uncertain as to why I was changing my way of speaking like that, and that I hoped it wasn’t that I was subconsciously, forcibly changing it to suggest the presence of alters.  She said, “I don’t like that change of voice just now.”, but I didn’t detect fear in her voice.  It was more as though she were simply bringing it up in conversation more concretely, that it seemed like there were alters trying to talk to her.  But they were not being forthright about their actions; that is, they did not announce themselves.  I recall watching a white clock as I heard them speak through me.

I was in the bedroom of a two-story house resembling my mother’s house.  It was dark, much as the room I stay in when I stay with her.  I recall looking at an email response from someone I was having an exchange with from an online DID forum.  We were talking about someone else’s behavior that we didn’t approve of.

He started the email with a few suggestive, specific notes that I don’t remember the words to exactly, but:

sounds like you were raped (talking about a post I had made or something I had said to him in which I was describing something completely unrelated.  But apparently he was ably to analyze the way that I worded it as indication of being raped/abused in the past)
quickly declare it (
or something else – I feel as though he was trying to get me to admit it somehow, or to retrieve it), [it] wreaks havoc on a body that remembers
I detect all kinds of rape in children (as his job?)

… [the individual we were criticizing] can’t get us/won’t get us here… etc etc.

Then I either woke up or am forgetting another large piece.

I have a displaced memory of being in someone else’s house, or in the downstairs portion of the house that I just described.  There was a male (red/light-haired, 30s, Caucasian, aloof) and a female (similar) that I interpreted as being in a relationship.  I followed the hall and went downstairs, where there were two cats that seemed larger than usual, each with a litter of kittens.  One of them, an orange/yellow one, seemed unusually large in particularly, took offense to my presence and I was surprised by this, as if I expected it to recognize me.  I had difficulty getting around it because it moved to attack while simultaneously protecting its kittens.  I avoided it successfully, but narrowly.  The man was watching curiously.

Then, upstairs, in the dining room (to the immediate right of the front door), I watched as a blonde, attractive young girl in her twenties came to the door and then joined us.  She was clearly a friend of theirs.  She accepted a gift of a pink, decorated bicycle.  The woman commented on the “bling-like” nature of the bike’s decorations, and everyone laughed.  I remembered thinking to myself about how I would like to see myself making remarks that made people laugh (I’m always doing this; spending time fantasizing in my head, lol).  The girl went outside, to the back of the house with the bike; looking after her, I could see through the windows into the yard, which had a bright, green lawn.

I next recall regarding the exchange between an older, authoritative man and a dark brown-haired, Caucasian young person, who was most likely female.  The older man was listening politely but he had an edge over her; he was some kind of authority figure.  A few of his friends or family members were around/behind him.  The brown-haired girl was imitating his air and explaining who lived in her house, or what they did there, and basically that she did not want him around.

He said that he understood but that he would be “going against her wishes for the time being“, and would be staying at the house for a short while with his family/friends.  She was annoyed.  I then saw past the walls of the house beyond the girl, who looked away in that direction, to find a sisterly figure who would be interested to know the outcome of her conversation with the man, I thought.

The house was suddenly outside and on a lower level.  There was a vivid, green yard hemmed in by dark trees that I saw, continuing to look in the direction that the dark-brown-haired girl looked.  The outside of the house could be seen; there were beams, a veranda, and it was daylight.  The colours were white and dark, navy blue.  There were two, slim women in long, white dresses that fit loosely and they were both blonde I believe (there might have only been one actually).  One of them said, “I want to be an adulterer,” to the surprise of her younger, dark-haired friend.  “For the (something), the (something), and the conversation, believe it or not.” she remarked offhandedly as she turned to circle to the other side of the house, back towards me.  She seemed annoyed that she would have trouble being as wanton with how she wanted to go about doing this “adultering”.

Then I remember following the path around the house to the other side, where there was another, grassy yard.  At the end of the yard, many people, including the older gentleman, were sitting around a table, drinking and eating casually.  They knew who I was.  They were trying to make sleeping arrangements.  It was suggested that I stay in a small garage/shop, outside the larger house.  The gentleman interjected, “But would Klayton be ok with that?“, gesturing toward me.  I said I wouldn’t really mind, looking back and forth between the garage which was nearby, on the left, and up at the back of the house, to the room in the uppermost right corner.

I was in a school that felt like my elementary school, but there were members of my college’s faculty there, including a dark-skinned, turban-wearing professor teaching Heidegger.  I went into his classroom for some reason, with my previous failures in philosophy (taught by another teacher) on my mind.  He seemed to recognize me only vaguely as we both met at the front of the class.  It was dim there; only white light through partially-covered windows was getting in.  There were students at all of the desks, which were arranged closely around us, facing the windows as well.  We had trouble remembering the name of the teacher whom I took philosophy with last time, but then I recalled, and everyone recognized him at his mention.

I went outside the classroom and felt that I was being watched, and that among the watchers was my previous philosophy teacher, Dr. Nicholls. There were many desks all in a line, closely jumbled together and a piano laid across a length of desks.  A young, black boy who looked to be under 7 years old was messing around the piano; it wasn’t clear that he had any formal instruction, but he was still playing very well, like some kind of virtuoso.

Then my vision was filled by an image of nature (mostly water), and I sensed the theme of “music to the greats“, where “greats” meant “great things in literature”, or something.  The image would change as the music changed, going through different examples of what this collection had.

It changed steadily to show themes and/or images from the distant past, such as ancient Roman or Greek times.  There were natural rock formations with water and other natural features, but they were somehow also part of a mechanical configuration.  Imagine two walls cut into the mountain, slamming together hard as if to pulverize whatever lie between the slabs.  There were intermittently-placed, sculpted parts embedded in the rock as well that were distinctly similar to either male or female sex organs.  I sensed some kind of commentary on what was on the minds of people back then.

But it changed again to show an elaborate, also rock/mountain-made, area constructed just for death by torture that was open to the public.  It was apparently a sport or some other optional activity, “voyeuristic torture death“.  One would bring their family members or friends with intents to die violently as they watched.

You think (something-something) is weird/bizarre?  Trying holding the hand of your loved one right as you/they slip away to die (a bloody, tortured death).” was something I discerned as I watched a scene:

There was a child and a mother, or some other adult figure or two.  They were stretched down over a steeply inclined slab of grey rock.  It was clear that beyond them and all around them was this elaborately constructed machine, embedded in a mountain side.  They were reaching to hold the hand of their other, adult friend/family member.  There were smears of blood on the rock around them, and others were busy going about their death nearby I think.

They let the hand of their friend go, and he fell fast to a small niche, was impaled on jagged rocks, and he cried out.  A portion of the rock wall came down hard and fast and he was pulverized.  I don’t remember this part very vividly, but it was clear that he died by either skewering, pulverizing, impalement, something like that.

I remember being in my room and picking up my guitar and hearing it play a lot like the bass guitar.  I was intending to practise with it and did so.  It came easily and made me happy.

The room itself was upstairs and I knew my mother was downstairs.  There was light coming in through the windows.  There were shelves and other belongings scattered all over the room.  In the center, there was some kind of central, square area enclosed on the floor.  There was someone there, a man who reminded me of a famous musician, but I forget anything else to do with him now.

I’m in my school.  I’m going up and down the halls and my math teacher is nearby.  He knows I have homework to do.  I encounter his daughter in the stairway halls.  He has many little daughters.  They have long dark hair.  I also see his wife.  He and his wife both seem like attractive, busy people.  I wonder if he thinks I’m wasting my time dawdling around with his daughters when I have work to do.

I pass by one of the little girls and look down at a drawing on the floor of a ninja turtle who has been injured.  There is a large black area coloured on his throat and the little girl seems bothered by it.  She wonders out loud to me if he’s going to be ok or something.  I try to reassure her that I think he’s just fine.

I go up the stairs and see a hook on the wall to hang up a set of keys my math teacher has given me to return there. It’s directly under a large window.  I see that there is some indication that every few years, a new pair will grow back.  At this time, a new pair has grown back.  I take them and put them in my pocket and then continue following the stairs away.

There’s a hell of a lot more to this dream that I’m forgetting now…

I also recall facing two stages with Julia on one side of me.  There are many people all around.  I remember thinking back to a story of mine that was read to my class, and remember that in the story, it was mentioned how I spent time in my school choir and was even selected especially.  I felt a little embarrassed and prepared to explain how many guys entered the choir, and that it was very important that they did.

Julia and I looked to the left stage where there were many kids with large instruments happily getting ready to play something.  I don’t remember what they played.  They were wielding instruments that you might expect to be part of a rock band.

Then I heard a song of Mother Mother’s come over the speakers.  I remarked to Julia, something like, “Finally, something good”.  Only a few words came through and almost resisted my continuing with the lyrics after they stopped, “You’ve been ghosting…(something, something) tossing and turning in your sleep.  Then I woke up.  The dream woke me up again, with a cheeky line..?!