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Monthly Archives: June 2010

I’m in a classroom, standing at the front next to a whiteboard, facing a tall, heavy-set, matronly woman teacher.  She is explaining to me that I have to draw a picture as part of either an assignment or punishment.  One aspect of the picture must be about me in an x-rated situation, maybe even something to do with S&M or something similarly unusually sexual.  I warn her that I’m able to tell someone else on staff at the school about what she’s assigning me to do, but she says something to me which makes it clear that I wouldn’t solve or change anything by doing that.

So I sit down a few rows back in a desk to get started.  On the right is a door out into the hallway, and in walks a girl named “Munchie Munch”.  She looks just like Elizabeth Taylor and may even be her daughter.  I think I was attracted to her.  She had an interest in me, but I don’t remember if she was attracted to me as well.  We seemed to have some kind of an alliance.  She had also been assigned a lot of work by the woman teacher, and complained to me as we talked after she had sat a couple of desks back and to the right of me.  She spoke up to the teacher, who corrected her that actually, she had 10 days to finish the assignment but had forgotten.  I sensed now that we were in Germany.  I also recall Munchie saying that she had heard “x”-name before, but not “Klayton”.

I’m in a dark house, at night, and the Simpson Family is there.  For some reason, Bart, Lisa, and Marge are sharing a bed, but it’s a temporary arrangement.  Night falls and I can see their ‘spirits‘, or perhaps their subconscious, ‘dream selves’ become active: the action zooms in and strips of light materialize above their bodies, connecting loosely to make a spectral representation of their bodily appearance.

They notice each other, but don’t behave as though they are in their usual seat of consciousness.  They share a few words that I can’t remember what, but it is clear that they are about to have a romantic/sexual encounter; I can sense that this is a climactic moment.  The environment starts changing to include strange characters and other ‘unreal’ morphing, as if all of this were taking place in a dream world.  The different things that come to life use abstract symbols to convey disapproval (showing picture frames to them, however I was unable to see what the picture was, only that they reacted to seeing it) and other things to show how they have done something that they should be ashamed of.

I look at a billboard that has been set up in the middle of a large, busy city.  On it is a huge image of a brain.  I’m listening to someone, or reading something about the phases of brain development, particularly one early phase in which it is understood that the halves ID and EGO have no ends.

I then look down at a list that has been suddenly provided to me from a source that is suddenly communicating with me, although I can’t see who it is.  The list is light yellowish, and each of the items on the list are numbered.  I understand that each of the items correspond to phases in my life that occurred in the past, and have been named by the source according to its point of view, who has been apparently sharing my life experience although I did not know it.

Some of the headings go something like: “I run away“, “(In Which I Behave Badly)“, and other allusions to itself by using “I”, when usually the “I” would refer to me.  There were other headings that used “you” instead to refer to myself.

I was facing a long fence made of criss-crossed wire, but there was also a dark, black-green paneling running all across it, so I couldn’t see through the holes as you would normally.  There were quite a few rows of this fencing that I walked through, and finally came to a last fence that faced me directly.  On the other side there was an adult-aged character; he was male, Caucasian, and had blue eyes?; he was obstructing me from getting across the fence somehow, as if we were playing some kind of game, but he was annoying me and I didn’t understand why he was behaving that way.  I walked along the left side of the fence and came around where there was an open way to his side, and we engaged each other again briefly, which still irritated me, but I was able to move past him after all.  There was another character beside or behind me during our encounter, but I can’t remember anything else about them.

The character whom obstructed me started to advance the concrete pathway with me.  We went for quite a ways, and all along one side of the sidewalk were green deciduous trees.  There were white, tiny flowers in the trees and they fell through the air and onto us as we walked.  He was ahead of me.  Behind him, I was following, but acting silly for some reason, for I was suddenly feeling light-hearted.  He laughed at me, finding it amusing that I would jump to bounce or catch the flowers on top of my head.  He seemed to be rather ‘above’ behaving silly like I was, but by this point, our relationship had improved slightly it seemed.

Then we stopped and turned to face the right side of the sidewalk, where there was a dark wall or fence.  On the sidewalk, the white flowers all fell into a formation of a single layer, arranging themselves into patterns that resembled a birds-eye view of a map.  There was another figure to my left, but I don’t recall who they where except that they were religious (probably Christian, but not they were identified largely in this way).  On my right was the male figure from before.  I passed my hands, palms down, over the concrete and felt sensations that were as though the flowers were ‘popping’ like little bubbles as they came into close contact with my skin.  I mentioned that I felt like I was some kind of ‘Heavenly something-or-other’ because of how it appeared that I was looking down over the world from above, but in my mind I was struggling to find a synonym for ‘angel’ because I was unsatisfied to use that term.  I also thought that the person on my right would be interested to hear religious subject matter mentioned.

This dream may have come before or after the dream I just described, but nonetheless, a fragment:

I was inside a dark interior reminiscent of a temple or a pyramid.  I could sense that it was daytime outside, which was a few walls through to my left.  I remember having to make my way forward to a room where my older brother was waiting for me.  I had to scale high and narrow pathways similar to catwalks at some points.

When I came to the room that my older brother was in, he was seated in an elevated seat and there were only narrow, catwalk-like, stone pathways that rose far off the ground to make my way around.  There were other, male characters sitting in the dark room, but I don’t remember much else about them.

My brother had mid-length (neck-length?), wavy black hair and perhaps also slightly dark skin, so perhaps he was of Arabic origin.  At this time I had to kneel down in front of him and give him oral sex.  We weren’t in a romantic relationship that I knew of, but I do recall that I was fine with it because I understood it to be a necessary part of some process that we were both aware of.  He enjoyed it.

I remember being in a room that was coloured brown, orange, and other similar, warm, dull huesJulia was with me on my left side, and on the other side, a girl with about chin-length, brown hair was with two of her guy friends.  We were talking about one particular guy friend of the girls’ whom I did not like because he had made fun of me, or so I think I remember.  The girl I did not yet much care for yet, but I didn’t know much about her; she was trying to get my attention in a kind of flippant way as though trying to get me to come around about her friend/boyfriend.

There was also something about a middle-aged man with dark hair and mid-tone skin, who appeared on the scene, as if we were somehow also on a train.  He complained about being in pain, but seemed amicable and not in too much distress actually.  I suggested to him that he take some tylenol, but I didn’t have any on me; I tried to be friendly nonetheless by addressing him.  The group we were with suggested that he smoke some pot, and they went about arranging for him to have some.

Although this next part is very fuzzy to me, I recall sitting back with Julia nearby while regarding this other group of young people.  They were all friendly with each other, however I didn’t feel inclined to approach or befriend any of them.  We watched as one of their friends finally arrived, and I understood him to be quite popular and well-liked for being both trendy/fashionable as well as friendly.  His name was Klayton.  I saw that he was wearing trendy clothes indeed when he arrived: tan pants, black shoes, and a t-shirt; he had short, black hair.  He almost seemed Asian, actually.  The fact that he was a few years younger made me weary of conceiving that I might meet him or like him.

I heard Wolf Parade coming through from a wall behind us, and I suddenly remembered that we were at of one of their concerts.  I was disappointed that I’d missed one of my favourite songs already, so I got up and moved myself away from the people and down to the stage.  There weren’t many people there and I wondered if the band was disappointed.

Julia joined me as I sat down on a dark brown, low-seated bench at a table.  It seemed ‘loosely’ put together, like an indoor-picnic in a community dining hall.  Everything was quite dimly lit and no one seemed to be paying attention.  There were objects strewn carelessly all over the table.

Eventually, the band members came down and started mulling around with the audience, having taken it upon themselves to choose when/how much of the time they would spend performing, for they also seemed to pick up on the fact that their music wasn’t going very well-appreciated.  I realized then that the band was no longer Wolf Parade, but another band that I was familiar with, however I struggled to find the name of them right after it had come to my mind.

One of the lead members approached me, and I thought that he looked very familiar to me.  He asked me to described or to name who he looked like, and I likened him to Hannibal Lector because of his visual similarity to Anthony Hopkins: open features, light-skin, middle-aged-seeming and looking wide-blue-eyed at Clarice.  He said I was wrong, and said it had something to do with sleeping, and related an anecdote involving his wife and his bedroom to me somewhat quickly.  Julia was on my right, and he noticed her drawings in a book that she had with her.  She didn’t notice that he had taken interest in it, and disappeared somewhere before I or he could tell her.  He told me that he would pay to have her draw for him.  I questioned that he meant for album art? and he agreed, yes.  I felt kind of dismissed that I couldn’t get someone’s attention, but I focused instead on how it was important that I find Julia to let her know.

I forget a moment or two after that point, but I then remember going outside the building through a doorway on the right.  I made my way over a long distance intently, not really looking at my feet, as I fixed my eyes on a helicopter high and far in the distance; it was against a blue sky and it appeared that it was releasing a large amount of water, but slowly, so it appeared extremely peculiar.  I couldn’t see any smoke or a fire so I further questioned what I was seeing.  I eventually saw that the water was coming down at the edge of a dense, coniferous forest that bordered on a large field of green grass. There were many people playing sports there.  A tree from the forest fell from the force of the water, and a commotion started, for a few boys got caught under the fallen tree.

The girl who was trying to talk to me from before was suddenly catching up to me, but I forget what she said.  She still had her same air, which was kind of half-aware, like many cool kids are, I guess.  I remember also that she probably had dark lipstick on, but appeared to be about my age.

I have a last, disjointed memory that I can’t place wherein I was speaking to my ex through a projection of an instant messenger program, for I used it outside and without a computer.  We spoke as if on tentative good terms.  They related some past experience of attending something to do with the arts to me, perhaps a performance or a museum experience.  I recall seeing pond water and fish swimming?

I then recall being in my father’s house, in the living room, with Julia, my father’s wife Judy, a mother, and someone else I think.  Julia was snipping the heads off of yellow roses and placing them into crate-like containers full of oil, for Judy.  She saw that I didn’t understand what she was doing, so she invited me to watch, and insisted that I would ‘see’ eventually.  I thought that it was a little weird that she seemed to be on good terms with Judy as much as it seemed like she was, for Judy had apparently been instructing her on her how to prepare something for Judy’s personal use.

The mother surveyed the scene and expressed disapproval, as if she were speaking on behalf of whether she would like to have her child associating with me/us/this place.  I had her look inside a cupboard that was built into the dark brown coffee table on the carpeted floor Julia and I sat on: inside, there were large bottles, and I said that they were mine.  I saw then suddenly that one of them was a bottle of Grey Goose vodka in a very large format, and I said that it was either mine, because I liked vodka, but probably not mine, because I couldn’t afford that kind of vodka.

We went around the corner and into the kitchen, where I don’t recall much else.

I’m now starting to feel guilty for not doing any decent dream work with the dreams I’ve been recording.  I excuse myself anyway; this is just practise, because I need practise with dream recall.  Even though I am earnest in my attempts to get the dreams down quickly by grabbing the pen or the computer asap, I still find that I have quite a bit of trouble with holding onto the memories.  I fret that I don’t sense having a cohesive, true recollection most of the time, and if I don’t remember the dreams as they truly were, any dreamwork I do will thus suffer some degree of perversion, and I won’t even really know to what degree.

But before that, I plan on making a list of associations for important images.  I don’t have to have everything clear in my mind as far as sequence or plot goes for me to have an image to work with.  So I have no excuses not to get started on something like that.

I also haven’t mentioned that I’ve received the White Lily Oil in the mail about a week or more ago, and have been using it with pleasing results.  It’s a very strange product.  I’d like to try vaporizing it, ha ha ha.

I recall being in Surrey, at night, however I’m certain the dream did not begin here.  I then remember being in my father’s truck with him while he drove; I was in the passenger seat, and sitting in between us was a young, Caucasian woman with long, dark brown hair that she wore in a ponytail.  She was apparently my father’s girlfriend.  There was a very small vial, which was apparently her medication.  My father took it and put it into his pocket.  I questioned whether it was necessary that he have this controlling role in the matter of the storage/administration of her medication.  He insisted almost defensively that yes, they had always had this kind of arrangement.  I objected to it without feeling hostile, but pointed it out to them both, firmly, that it seemed strange.  She watched me placidly, perhaps interested.  I think, in the end, she agreed with me.  I don’t recall any further objection from my father.

We arrived at a home, still in the dark, and approached it from the back.  There was a porch laid with wooden panels.  Up the stairs, I approached the sliding glass patio doors and saw, on the deck by my feet, a group of kittens.  They were walking and rubbing up closely against one another, like familiars.  One of the cats detached from the group and looked up at me; I could sense that in its head were several eyes, although it had only two eye sockets.  It’s right eye replaced itself with a new eye, and I knew somehow that this eye ‘recognized’ me, or rather the kitten recognized me, and thus the eyeball switch.  I perceived the words, ‘Da Capo‘, or some similar variation. (Note: ‘Da Capo’, an Italian music term, translates to “from the beginning”.  It is also the name of a Japanese anime/manga romance series.)

I then remember being in a small convenience store. I selected an electrical outlet cover that was coloured in a cloudy, black and grey pattern.  The woman attending the check-out counter was my father’s new girlfriend.  She advised me that I should not install it unless I knew what I was doing lest I hurt myself.  I tried to tell her, repeatedly, that I had an electrician boyfriend, so she didn’t have to worry.  Eventually, she understood, then handed me the receipt to sign.  I then asked her how things were with my father, and she replied that they were ‘just great‘.

I was in front of a large building (a hotel?) which was at the foot of a charcoal-grey, paved lot, hemmed in by vibrantly green lawn in the daytime; I was with a group whose members I can’t recall, and they went inside while I waited outside.  Very nearby (almost sharing the same lot) was a mental institution (“Arkham Asylum” – very original!).  The asylum was quite spacious and had many windows into the patients’ suites.  The lowest floor and floor above (no ground-level suites) had a man and a woman respectively, that I saw; I suspected they had recently been sleeping.  I considered that I wouldn’t mind being committed to a place like this if I needed to be.

While I waited outside the building, I recall interacting with a dark-haired female.  I was sitting on a stool with wheels that she pushed/pulled around the lot for fun.  It was a dangerous activity, but I was having fun and I assume the same of her.  As we turned sharply over a curb, I grabbed a regular, kitchen-table-style chair to keep from having an accident.

I also remember seeing at least a few instance of Chinese children playing around the backs of large vehicles that had very large tires. There was a small compartment at the back and bottom of one such vehicle containing several small magnets.  Somehow, the child would get the magnets out and they would immediately attach to its forehead, which would cause them to be in danger of being run over because they weren’t able to resist the force of the magnet attracting them to the vehicle.  I rescued or helped to rescue one child, and commented to its mother about having seen this happen to other Chinese children since I’d arrived.  The mother seemed frazzled and the father, speaking better English than she and calling her Rachel, started to argue with her as I walked away with someone.

Later on the dream, in another location that felt like either the inside of an RV or a portable, I learned that my grandfather had actually sent me to stay at the asylum and I had either forgotten, or he did it in secret.  I felt slightly ashamed.

I was being let into a residence, and there were 2 or 3 others around me.  One was a dark-skinned, dark-haired female whom was brought along by a mutual friend of ours.  She gave me the cold shoulder.

I was sitting at a couch with the 3 or so others.  My father’s wife was present, and handing out strawberries.  I felt in my body that I had apparently eaten too many strawberries already, but still I ate another.

This part of the dream was blue, grey and white mostly.

Again, not much in the way of connective tissue between dream fragments remembered this morning.  I also recall only shadows of images that were important in the dream, but not enough of the actual images themselves for a decent description.

A couple of nights ago, I was half-dreaming as I fell asleep, and wondering to myself why it was that I couldn’t remember my dreams well lately.  I thought I heard an answer in my head that went something akin to chastising me for not investing enough energy into carrying out the dream work that I’ve been promising myself I’d do lately.  I’m reading a book by Robert Johnson about interpreting dreams, and I quite like the book so far.  I haven’t finished it, but I figure that once I do, I will be able to more confidently approach the dream analysis task.  It involves writing down associations to images, and in general just lots of writing.  So that was on my mind this morning as I could not remember but more than fragments… how am I supposed to interpret my dreams on only fragments and shadows?  I’ll misinterpret the images if I’m filling in the blanks as my conscious mind thinks it might have been.  I certainly don’t dream what I expect, so that just won’t work for obvious reasons.

Anyway, onto the dream fragments:

I recall being in Africa, or a country that was called ‘Africa’ at one point.  It was daytime for nearly the entirety of the dream.  This country was mountainous, dry, dusty, and non-industrialized.  The inhabitants were dark-skinned and spoke with an accent.  I was making my way somewhere up across a mountain range; it was all light-brown, steeply inclined and there were dried out shrubbery along the way.  Then I remember pitching a tent, or regarding a tent.  It was a thick, grey-brown fabric that made the tent.  Inside, it was quite spacious, but obviously a well-worn tent.  I heard a voice, or remember being told by one of the natives, about why they liked using the tent: the mosquitoes, they said, were quite bothersome and the tent provided relief.  There was something specific about this bit of dialogue that I wish I could remember; it had something to do with opening it and the amount of mosquitoes that would be there in the morning.

Then, the tent became a vehicle.  I don’t remember actually using it or riding in it, but I think that I must have.  Anyway, it behaved more like a rocket than a tent when it transformed.  It’s appearance stayed the same, but it shot down the side of the mountain enrobed in a white and blue glow that trailed after it, like a comet.  It went extremely fast.  Eventually, it arrived at a small town or encampment of the natives.

This encampment was crudely constructed but impressive nonetheless. It had many dark brown, wooden structures, a wharf and many people.  The water that the wharf was built over was very bright, fluorescent cyan and opaque.  Facing it from the wharf, across this narrow inlet which emptied into the city, I remember a huge wall or rockface that went straight up.  I detected my mother‘s presence too.  I recall being in the water then; it glowed very brightly.  At this point, I described the awesome tent from before to my mother.

Next, I remember being on the other side of the water, close against the wall.  I could see that on my left, the inlet kept going and went around a corner to where I could not see further, but there was white light coming from one of the directions.  It might have been going in two directions actually.  We were on an elevator, and I think one or both of my half-brothers were there.  Something about the technology of this elevator was very impressive, and I also remember seeing the images of cartoon illustrations that were reminiscent of Pokémon.  My mother was still there, and I was, or we were, trying to convey how the technology of the elevator was incredible.

Mysteriously, I was next in my apartment, and Julia was there.  We were facing each other in the living room, and something was between us.  It was in the shape of a low-hanging arc, as if it were a rope that was pinned to the ceiling.  I was paying special attention to the left ends of the white rope, where other items were being attached, similar in colour.  I also remember that she was crying at a few points.  I could tell that it was day outside, but the curtains were pulled, so we were shadowed however still slightly lit by scattered light.  I did not feel upset or uncomfortable too much that I remember.  There was a warm, earthy hue to this scene.

Tyler, a family friend’s son in my waking life, suddenly entered.  I don’t remember why, but I welcomed him.  I sensed that it was a temporary arrangement, such as babysitting.  I think I offered him pizza, or at least, something like pizza was mentioned.  I don’t remember Julia’s reaction to him being there.

The next few scenes are very far removed from my memory.  I was in a house that reminded me of my mom’s current home, but also with many elements that are unfamiliar to me, including the environment outside the house.  My mother was there, her ex was there, and there was a grey kitten as well I think.  There was some conflict over a meal and the eventual eating of the food.  I think that it was her ex who cooked it, but I also recall seeing a tin foil container on the stovetop full of something that didn’t look too appetizing, required a large spoon for serving, and for some reason I can’t be sure if it was him or if it was my mother who was responsible for it.

Her ex wasn’t as extremely antagonistic as he usually is in this dream.  I don’t recall exactly wanting to be in his company.  In fact, I remember declining something from him… perhaps food.  I also recall my mother being agitated and irritable for having to be in his company.  He was following me around later in the dream.  These memories are very, very foggy.

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I had many dreams last night, but much to my fury, and despite still having vivid memories of many of their images, failed to retain them.  Writing them down was like drinking from a cup with holes in it.  Or, if you can imagine seeing something in your peripherals and getting sore eyes from straining to see what you’re turning continuously away from, you will understand a bit.  Unfortunately, even as I hurried to record the fragments, they dissolved.  In fact, at one point in the dream, I was trying to recollect a dream to the persons there, but found that the memories had rearranged themeselves; as I was telling the story in the sequence that I remembered, I realized I was perceiving a certain order to the sequence that just couldn’t be possible.  I told the figures in the dream that the memories had scrambled themselves, being just as confused in the dream as I am now.

My rushed dream-notes are hard to follow too.  Oh well:

I was on a beach world and thinking of Julia, or was nearby to her, or was with her sometime in the recent past leading up to this point.  There was water all around this island, and in the sky, I was seeing visions that I no longer remember. Some of them were intimidating, filling the entire sky, and I couldn’t understand them.  There might have been a herd of dark-coloured animals, perhaps canine, that moved like a stormfront of thunder clouds.  I was intermittently feeling nauseous, or becoming overhwelmed by something, as if intoxicated.  I recall that in the middle of the island was some kind of volcano or other localized, contained center of  tumultuous activity.  I only have this sensory impression of churning, either from this central location or from the sky.

But then I recall being in front of a house, far away from this island.  I was daytime, but the light was subdued and cool, as if there were rainclouds in the sky.  I was on a roadside and it did not seem like there were any other houses nearby.  In the background, I believe there were dark green trees; either way, it seemed like an isolated house.  It was dark brown and had a veranda.  Inside, there was a matronly woman with a busy, learned air; she had dark brow-red hair and seemed to be running a store, or some kind of organization.  The inside of the house was full of little objects and furniture, and I found it cozy.

I recall seeing a rack of clothing on hangers, and seeing a small blackboard, or other surface, with an abstract line drawing representing two bulls.  The drawing of the “2 bulls” was fluid and had special attention given to drawing the eyes, but otherwise, it was a very confusing picture.  The eyes were circular and opened wide; very animal-like and intense.  It was hard to tell either of the bulls apart, but that might have been the point, that they were intermixed.  I went inside and had to tell her who I was.  I think she wanted to help me.  I felt like we were safe together there, or that she was a good person to talk to.  I described what happened to me on the island, and she took it as confirmation of who I was.  I recall feeling special.

I don’t know which order it came in, but I recall also being at a wooden table inside a similar location to the house with the matronly woman.  There were 3 others at this table with me, and one was Julia.  I was struggling to tell them about my ‘dream’ of the island with the sky full of corporeal visions because there was a lot of noise in the background.

Then I remember being in another location, outside, in the daytime.  It was like being in a remotely located, quiet family neighbourhood or community, because the houses were all quite close together, connected by paved lanes.  The road undulated quite a bit, making hills often, especially down one particular driveway that I remember, but don’t remember what happened there.  I was finding my way out of this place; it was unfamiliar to me.  I rounded a corner and saw a way out: the ‘world’ of the neighbourhood suddenly bordered along a more natural, ‘overgrown’-seeming section that was comprised of dark brown rocks and shaded by trees.  There was a black stream running just under the rocks, and the only way to get across was to jump to another, outreaching rock ledge on the other side.  The water didn’t seem deep and the rocks didn’t seem sharp, so I jumped, while a young (8 years old?), Caucasian girl with long, light-brown hair watched me.  Her father and brother might have been nearby; either way, I did detect being seen by another young character.  I successfully made the jump.

I have very indistinct memories of being in an empty residential home, with seemingly only one or two rooms, 3 doors and many windows.  There was no furniture here, and I liken it now to a place for squatters.  Outside, it seemed like a clean, quiet little neighbourhood.  There were a bunch of other, young guys in there who seemed friendly with one another, but in general, up to no good.  There was substance being used, but I don’t recall what.  There was a black man who ended up being the only one left after the other guys suddenly left.  He was smoking cannabis and started to have a bad trip.  I approached him, wanting him to know that I was taking his distress seriously, but he dismissed me (tripping balls, I get it), wanting to be alone.  I didn’t take offense, and left.

Then I remember walking along a hallway with others around me close by.  It seemed busy, like we were all on our way somewhere.  In front of me, a man with light brown skin, black hair, and Asian-seeming features was on a bicycle.  I learned that he was a Canadian physics teacher.  His face didn’t make expressions very well, and seemed to be moving slightly and continuously; I wondered if he had some kind of nervous or muscular impairment, such as what happens to those who have had a stroke.  He was being spoken to by someone I couldn’t see, about how Canadian physics teachers were a rarity, “one of 935 left”, or some similar number, he said.

We came to the end of the hallway, where others were assembled.  There, the path split, but we were all facing the end of the lane, where, on the wall, a portrait had been hung.  It was a picture of 3 or 4 rows of people; they were faculty of the school, and the picture had been taken some time ago.  I was nearby the headmaster or principle of the school; she was matronly, tall, and had dark, brown-red, curly hair, much as the first matronly woman figure did who appeared earlier.  She was reminiscing about how the school’s earlier days were much better, and included much more fun because everyone acted more freely, expressing themselves more often (singing?), I think.  As she talked, my perspective zoomed in on the portrait, and it became animated at one point I believe, but I forget how; I only recall hard, straight lines in black and grey, as if it were some kind of crane arm such as what might be used on a film set.

We took the left path then (the principal woman and I), and were in the neighbourhood with lots of hills I believe, or  similar one.  Everything seemed to be a little primitive however: there were no regular walls, but slabs of stone, and no hinged doors, just open entryways (at least of the house we were at).  There were no windows properly either, just open areas on the walls and one on the ceiling.  At the entrance, we could see that this home was actually just one room and somewhat circular.  In the center, the floor was either raised or there was a small structure, possibly cylindrical, that could have been a table.  Inside this house, there was a gang of disrespectful-seeming, Asian, older boys who were lying around on the floor, playing cards.  There were cigarette/joint butts and cards discarded everywhere.  The cards were unfamiliar to me, and had strange images on each of them.  One of them was of a girls face with a crown of flowers, but the floweres were bloody and there was blood running down her face.  I was defiantly trying to interfere in their card game with the help of the woman beside me, but not really doing anything independently, always in conjunction with her; for example, I ducked behind her and we cooperatively extended our influence on the cardgame, messing it up a little.

Some other presence was there, and it was not nice seeming.  It seemed older or patriarchal somehow.  I was still next to the principal; she was trying to do something clever which I might join in on due to our uncertain situation: being in this house which was invaded by punks, while her school was in bad shape, and now this other character was there to be domineering in our presence, however I cant really recall much other than this.  There was some kind of framed picture that had a white background and many little drawings on it, organized neatly into several columns and rows, but I don’t recall its significance, except that it was an object of attention.

Then, suddenly, without really waking up that I remember, I was in another location.

I was in the hallway of my “home”: a white interior in bluish light, in a narrow hallway, without any objects or any other signs of having lived there.  On the left side of the room were silver, metal shelves lined up against the wall, about 3 of them; they were long and had a few rows on them, such as the kind you might expect to push around a hospital.  I could hear Andy’s voice singing about how he’d bought them for me because he likes me very much as his friend, in a playful, ad-lib kind of way. I turned around and saw that his voice was coming from behind a closed door.  I was thinking about how I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there, but that I could remember freshly that I’d just been with woman and the Asian boys playing cards; I thought, “I’ve lost time“.  I started talking to Andy out loud, and turned to open the door; inside, the lights were out and he was tucked into bed.  I asked him how I got there.  He said that it was because I was “two different kinds of people” and that “one didn’t like having a sex life” while the other “liked very much having a sex life”, or something like that.

I’m in bed during a few of these scenes.  I remember looking in my dream journal that I keep to write in with pen, and seeing a dialogue between two characters.  One was called “Littleoldlady” I think, and the others name I don’t recall.  These were obviously pseudonyms.  The other character was male and young, perhaps also blonde, but I don’t recall how I know this since I was only looking at a recorded, past conversation.  I don’t recall what the contents of the conversation was.  I do remember thinking about what the pseudonym “Littleoldlady” could have meant, and that it might have been a figure of speech representing someone who wasn’t actually an elderly lady.

I also recall looking in this journal and seeing little drawings, usually contained within squares only a few inches tall and wide, so there might be about 3 of them per page.  They consisted of loose pencil sketches and incorporated text as part of the picture, too.  There were messages such as “I always like drawing with you, no matter when/where” – but about this, I’m not sure.

I was in the wilderness.  There was bush and jungle all around, as well as high water levels and no roads that I can recall.  The main method of transport by the natives was by small boat.  There was an establishment setup by someone from an industrialized civilization, ie America; this as I remember, included one such very tall building which was built at the foot of a large lake that waterways/natural canals emptied into, and all around the lake was closely packed jungle.  There were large windows and an open entrance to this building, as if it were still under construction in some places.  I had to use the washroom; right away as I entered, the washroom was there, and a man followed me in there that I don’t recall anymore, but didn’t feel opposed to.  He was Caucasian and had black hair.  There was dust and dirt all over the floors and no lights to turn on, though I did not look for lights.  I saw that there was no privacy to be had (it was a public-style washroom) so I did not use it after all.

I remember then sleeping in this building, back against a wall so I could see outside the windows into the lake that lie outside.  I could see that it was night then.  I was in close quarters with 2 or 3 other people whom I don’t recall, except for one, slightly pudgy, Latin-American-seeming man with black hair and a moustache.  He seemed to be in his late 30s or so if I had to guess.  He spoke with a Mexican accent, maybe.  There were a few others crowded outside the window as well, and I have trouble remembering who was in whose party to be honest.  But I was trying to stay inside, and was depending on the glass windows to continue separating us.

There was an object, or a few objects, that were the subject of conversation and consideration for this part of the dream.  Particularly, I recall one very small item that might have been a silver ring with a glass-like gem on it.  In the gem was a detailed image that resembled a miniature painting of someone, such as an iconic figure.

I couldn’t communicate with the Mexican man, whom I assume was from around there, but I had to tell him something about the ring or to get him to do something for me.  I asked someone to translate a message to him for me.  I don’t recall feeling more than basically amicable towards him, yet I was acting as though I did; I hesitate to wonder if I was acting sweeter to increase my chances of getting what I wanted.  He seemed to respond well to it, however I don’t recall what I asked him or what my message to him was; he wanted something from me as well, and I think it was a kiss, because I recall being kissed by him (simply) then.  There was some comment on this by an additional character I think, maybe that they were surprised.

The Mexican man then said something with regards to the small ring, on the manufacturing methods used by the Americans to produce such objects.  He seemed to be critical of the American’s technology, but also seemed to be nonetheless impressed by how advanced it was indeed.  I was talking to him right up close against a glassy wall, and I sensed that the machinery he was referring to was close behind us, deeper inside the building.

Then I remember being on the lake itself, under the night sky, in a wooden boat with someone else.  This other figure was adrogynous or was female, and had darker skin, and black hair.  I looked at the sky and could see that there were innumerable stars and constellations, however every time I moved, it caused most of the stars to blur very badly.  In fact, it was like having motion sickness.  The sky was a dark blue.  In the distance, there was a structure that resembled a tree with enormous girth, growing straight up out of the water; there was a small light emanating from there and some activity, so I assume that this was some base for the aboriginals.  I was also aware that the closer we got, the more danger we were in, perhaps that the aboriginals themselves were going to attack us.  There was another boat in the water nearby I believe.

Then I recall approaching a shore in my boat, and that the night seemed to be darker.  The jungle and thick bush was all black and the water had only stark, thin, yellow reflections that moved with the water’s ripples.  There was a small, wooden dock, only about 5′ or so out from the shore.  I saw another dark skinned figure here, but I can’t recall what they did or how I interacted with them.  I was recalling my interaction, or conversation, with the Mexican man.  I remember that he had told me about his children, and there was also some note about bearing more children wherever he had sex with someone new, but that the encounter between him and I was divorced from that category because neither of us could have children, of course.  It seemed to bear some significance representative of the kind of commitment made by the decision to have casual sex and the responsibilities, or lack thereof, that go along with it.  I recall him being jovial and being aware of our age difference, vaguely, and that I didn’t expect to ever see him again.

I remember then being in a different environment, but I don’t remember if this was another dream from the last.  The atmosphere was brightly lit; the sky was white, and there was a large, lightly-coloured structure in the backround that felt like some kind of sprawling, royal compound including a massive central building, perhaps a castle.  There was water everywhere and it rose up past my knees.  I also recall pillars, or other similar things, projecting up out of the water.  I was accompanied by 2 or 3 other figures, but I don’t remember them.

Then, immediately to my left, with a wall close behind me, a group of gigantic, white, incredibly muscular horses charged my party and I.  In the distance from the direction that they were attacking, I don’t recall seeing anything: it was like they had materialized from thin air.  They were splashing the water savagely, seemingly intent only to assail us.  They had yellow straps on them that seemed to be the remains of some decor that used to be part of a harness.  There was at least one person in my party who was uncertain about fighting the horses, or perhaps which side to fight for in general, because the horses were formerly of the more ‘heroic’ side, but had since aligned against us for some reason.  I encouraged them to regard the obvious, that we had to defend ourselves against this immediate threat.  I slashed the horses with a sword, and the wounds burst open and gushed forth huge amounts of light green contents, with geyser-like force.  I felt that this was the start of an important battle.

Then I remember racing with my party to outrun an tidal wave of apocalyptic destruction.  It was beige-coloured and was very close on our heels.  Even so, and despite that there were numerous obstacles strewn all across our path such as overturned/chunks of pillars, sharp corners and other things to scale, we were able to stay ahead of it.  I remember passing over a small section of green grass with a green, deciduous tree, and sensing the conversation between two characters, one of which I think was female, but I forget anything other than that about that part.  Most peculiar was that this sequence would repeat itself 3 or 4 times over.  As soon as we’d been run a certain distance, I would suddenly be back again to where I had first started to escape the wave.  Each time, we were able to succeed again, but I don’t remember how we eventually outran it completely, or if we did at all.  I also remember being aware that the world was repeating itself each time that it did.

I don’t remember much at all about the dreams I had after I woke up from the last stretch of dreams, but I do recall a few details from some of them:

I remember running through a bare-bones, urban structure that towered high above the city all around it, and the light of the daytime sky coming through.  I ran down a wide staircase.  I saw a dog, and was afraid of it.  I tried to outrun it, but it was angry and wanted to attack.  I could sense that this dog had an awareness other than that of any old crazy mutt, and I felt frustration and confusion that I didn’t know how to feel about it, except that I was afraid.  I was encumbered by the tumbling of thoughts and feelings that were coming over me.  Another dog came to attack then suddenly, and this one was a rottweiler; he was bigger than the other, and the other just vanished, I think.  I thought that this one would overpower me completely.  I don’t know how this scene ended.  It was very confusing and constantly in a grey area of what was what, who was who, where true intentions lie, etc.  The environment was all dark colours, like a neglected garage buried in car parts and similar clutter.

Then, in another dream, I was in a forest planting trees from seed, with a group of people in an organization.  The forest floor was covered in green overgrowth, interspersed with tall, ancient trees with narrow trunks.  I was being told about how researchers had discovered how there had been, a great many years ago, in the open spaces between the narrow trunks of the old trees, many more trees just like them, but that it had been ‘covered up’ by those who didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that the habitat had been destroyed.

This forest seemed very remote, but I don’t recall much wildlife, other than seeing one chimpanzee.

I was instructed by a woman who seemed knowledgeable and experienced with the outdoors/hands-on work involved, on how to properly plant a tree seed.  We were going about the re-planting of the forest which would take many, many years before they would grow tall at all; I sensed the huge amount of time to come before the seeds would grow into trees like their neighbours.  Anyway, the woman showed me how to dig a deep, narrow hole, drop a single seed into it, then cover it with sand-like dirt (dry, light, running more smoothly than the darker earth around it).  I accidentally dropped a few seeds into the hole instead of one.  She told me that it would probably be okay, but I was still embarrassed of my mistake.

I remember only the end of this dream.

I was in a large store.  The floor is tiled a white-grey.  This place reminds me of Canadian Tire.  I was walking down one of the main aisles, pausing in front of each of the adjacent aisles to see what lie down it.  Julia was nearby at some point, or I detected her; especially when I saw a collection of large mirrors down one aisle.  Some of the mirrors had fallen over and were out of their cardboard wrapping.  I considered that I hoped Julia wouldn’t bring it up that I wanted to buy one of these because I wasn’t ready to pay the price for it yet.  I checked my appearance.  My mother was nearby.

I saw my little brother, Julian, nearby as well, down an aisle near the front.  He was running around and behaving badly.  My mother was frustrated.  I caught up with him and my mother caught up with us.  I took him and she approached us both, facing me, coming quite near and opened an umbrella.  I was nodding my head inclined towards her and her head was above mine.  I felt her chest knock on my forehead, so it was as if either she grew or I shrank, but I didn’t feel as though either of these things happened, except that our ratio was different.  She had a black shirt on.  I started to talk to Julian and she didn’t say anything as I did.

I told him that he was behaving badly in a few words and as I did, he started to cry.  His face looked much younger than his does in my waking life, and really, just not at all like Julian does at all.  I reassurred him by my tone of voice and by touching his face that I was not angry with him.  I asked him to describe what bad behavior looked like.  He started to describe it and seemed not to be upset anymore.  I felt suddenly quite nurturing however I am not like this at all in my waking life.

I was meeting in a large gym (floors and walls were mostly a warm brown) with a group of other boys.  each of them were being asked by young boys on the sidelines about the sport that they played.  Each of us played a different sport; I played soccer.  There were mechanical devices that we were using also and I can faintly recall that they were used for personal transport, so they were vehicles of some kind.  I was called out to to confirm the soccer that I played and I said yes.

The coach said something about scoring a single point, and I recalled the action of having kicked the soccer ball into the net.  He said that something about this should be avoided, and that next time, I should kick the ball away from the net and not score at all because of this “single point” method that he didn’t want.  I answered yes that I understood.  I also reflected immediately that I liked the positive response to my obedience, and my brain imagined improving upon it by addressing the coach with ‘sir’ or something.

Then, a disjointed fragment: I was watching a program which pitted two teams against each other.  On one team, an older brother and on the other, a younger brother and mostly younger kids.  It was a popular TV program.  My mother was in the living room of my apartment.  I came out from the bathroom and asked her if she had seen the show, and who had won; I had wanted the older brother’s team to win out of sympathy for if an older brother should lose to a younger.  The older team had won, 2-1.

I also recall seeing a display of the team I was to play against, who were all younger boys in red and black jerseys.  Their coach wanted us to see a demonstration by them: they were all lined up in a line, standing close together, and had done some amazing gymnastic feat involving handstands and linking arms.  The coach said that his boys loved to play games a lot, and this was a product of that.  In fact, they had gotten hold of a lot of baby birds and had delivered them back to their nests.  As he explained this, they were still performing.  We were on a soccer field with green grass, trees in the background behind a fence, a dark sky, and bright flood lights behind the line of players.

Another fragment: I was using an applet for drawing that reminds me of Tegaki.  An old friend’s father (Shannon) had been seeing my artwork.  He indicated to my mother, who told me later while I was in her home, that he had been especially impressed by my artwork.  It was mostly abstract artwork, so I was surprised.  He was among some others who admired it.

I was with my mother and my two younger brothers.  We were looking at a new TV that she had purchased.  There was a particular TV that was comprised of a larger section and a few smaller sections that were all fitted together in a mosaic.  Each of the smaller tiles could display the entire image, or work together with the others to make a larger image between all of them.  This television’s problem lie in that it was designed to be mounted on the ceiling, which was not something my mother wanted in her TV set.  I suggested that it would be a good TV for them to have because it allowed for parts of the TV to be broken off, so if either of the younger children wanted to watch a TV program that others didnt want to, they could take it and go away with it without disturbing anyone.  I instinctively considered that being unmonitored whilst watching TV would not be the best idea for younger children actually.  My mother made some indication that she was in agreement with me on this. We were in a large living room with carpeted floor and mostly greys and beiges in the colour scheme.

I’ve finally had a lucid dream, I think.

I’ve been tossing around all morning and been bothered by itchiness.  I showered, took my time, and got back into bed.  I was preparing to get up again after about an hour or so of discomfort, when I started to perceive that my consciousness was shifting.

I was intermittently seeing flashes behind my eyelids of reality that seemed vivid and changeable, like images projected onto the surface of an opaque liquid, like mercury.  It was scenes that are familiar to me, such as the surface of the desk behind an open textbook, the ceiling, etc – things I usually have in my line of sight on a day-to-day basis.  They would come and go very quickly.  I felt determined to return to them, so I passively willed for them to come back, or to see a limb of mine come into the line of sight by my own command.  Eventually, strangely, I did start to see the dream-limbs obey.

Then I was in my dream-home, and there was someone at the door, or someone nearby.  I was in the bathroom then, facing the medicine cabinet/mirror, and that person turned out to be an older gentleman who I felt to be familiar to me.  He seems to be over the age of 60, has white hair, a beard, and a kind face.  He is fit and healthy and has a pink tone to his skin.  He is quite a bit taller than I am.  He has the air of a doctor or a teacher.  He is facing the mirror with me and has something for me, or wants to show something to me.  He has it in his hand.  Does it have something to do with something wrong with me?  There is something also to do with a red brick, but I forget how it was a part of this sequence now.

Then our interaction becomes strange.  Each time he engages me, I feel as if my world is turning upside down and then rotating, and as it does, I lose track of the dream-home-environment.  It is as if he has taken me and is spinning me around an axis gently, that takes me through some kind of churned mix of different levels of reality.  I lose sense of my body and where I am, so I draw this conclusion.  My vision turns to darker, richer tones for just an instant, and perhaps I can also perceive a pattern of some kind.  I distantly recall there being a third person, but I can’t figure out who it is anymore.

A few more times of this and I no longer have contact with the kindly old man.  I feel close to him however, and like he was somewhere near to me as I traveled away from the dream-home.

I awakened a few times to a small, dirty room with white walls.  The only colours here are black, white, brown, etc: it reminds me of a doctor’s office, but I might guess that it was in an old building and that it was no longer in use.  There is a bed here I think, but the whole place seems gritty, and I have to quell a dull uneasiness that I feel, such as what you get while playing a horror-genre videogame.  This world tilts around on its axis quite a bit too, or to put it another way, I am not grounded in perceiving through the eyes of someone in a body.  There is something on the wall here.  I phase in and out of being able to stay.  I make demands to see certain things, desperate to see my subconscious world with conscious eyes; I demand to see Bastet, and for an instant, I think I see a familiar symbol for her on the doctor’s table, seated towards me, back to the corner, but I am not satisfied with this because I feel that it might just be a remembered impression of a drawing that I’ve done.  I feel like I am not alone however, but there is no one there that I can see yet.  I can’t even properly sense that there is any structure to this place outside the walls.  I feel like it is suspended in space.  I throw a few demands out, a little bit nervous, such as that I want to see a familiar face from my life, but my commands are impotent.

I phase out of this awareness, but soon I am back.  The door comes open, and I run outside.  It looks like an empty prison: the floors are grey, the ceilings are high, there is no furniture, and light coming through the windows is white but not warm.  There is another level that I can see because to my left, the narrow hall opens up into a common area, and I imagine that there might be a stairwell nearby that can take me up to that next level.  But I see a man who is pushing a wheeled wash-bucket around; some kind of Janitor; and near to him, a door.  It flies open.  As I pass him, his face turns into the face of someone from my past whom I do not like.  I run into the doorway, which opens into a stairwell going up.

I ascend the steps quickly, desperate to bump into something, anything at all.  I voice loudly to the dream, or myself, that I want to see my shadow, ‘Him’, ‘Him’, or whoever I’ve encountered before but couldn’t properly communicate with yet.  I suddenly see that I’ve come to the top of the stairs, and there is no through-way.  There is a dead-end wall, and the wall is unfinished, if not damaged.  In it, there is a brick-shaped hole.  I recall that there has been the image of a brick already, and I saw it when I was in the dream-home, with the white-haired, older man.

I look back and start getting strange impulses.  The character who has the face of the past-person whom I don’t like (the fellow who used to be the janitor) is there, and I start projecting those impulses onto the character.  I know I have a choice now, but without thinking, I engage him and am about to carry out the impulses, but they are feeling less like impulses the more I bear with them.  From one vantage point, to the right of the top of the staircase, facing back the way I came, against the wall, I see a strange image: a gnome-ish, silent figure, and it is a little disturbing.  Facing back up towards the dead-end-brick-shaped-hole, I am impressed upon by the image of shoes seen in the open space under a closed door, such as what you’d see if there were someone on the other side.  The shoes were cartoony, brown, and there was red also, but perhaps in the background.

I eventually came to my senses and didn’t go through with what would have made me feel quite bad, and I am quite relieved about that.  But it makes me sick that it happened at all.  This experience would have been so much better without that part.  It was my fault.