A Sick Dream

First, I was introduced to a security database. It was locked up in a yellow train car that was permanently parked on railroad tracks beside another rail car, red, that was a cafe or restaurant. After being shown it, I was taken to where I lived. I’d be working out of my house. It was an apartment or condo on a plaza’s ground floor. The living room had a large window. From it, I could see the yellow car which held the security database. That pleased me.

My wife had gone out. I was feeling sick. The bed was right off the living room in the house’s front. I had a cold, and my vision was teary and blurry. I also had seven cats. “ALF”, the ‘alien life form’ from the U.S. sitcom shown for several years in the late 1980s, a show I was aware of but rarely if ever watched, was present to help take care of the cats. One cat was sick; I told ALF to give it a shot. He fired buckshot at the cats, and then told me, “I think we had some miscommunication.”

My wife arrived home. I told her I was sick and noticed she was, too, but with milder symptoms, and then told her what ALF had done. My illness seemed to be worsening. Two of my wife’s friends arrived. They sat down to have coffee and tea and chat while I climbed onto the bed to try to rest. I didn’t have any blankets or sheets and kept shifting positions, trying to be comfortable. One of her friends asked my wife, “What’s wrong with him?” My wife replied, “Oh, he’s just sick.”

Dream end.

Saturday’s Theme Music

We have liftoff. Saturday, June 18, 2022, is climbing through time, leaving its contrails behind for us to study.

Cloudy is today’s word. Chilly is related, with us staring at 52 F at the moment, hoping for something in the sixties. Hoping is a strong sentiment; my wife, cats, and I are all comfortable with the low fifties and some dabble of sunshine. Rain potential hangs above us with the clouds asking, “Will I? Will I?” Such capricious characters. Sunrise drew the curtains open on the daylight hours at 5:34 AM and the obverse is at 8:50 PM. Our weather is better than places like Spain, where they’re baking in 40 degrees C, which, using the formula learned in school eons ago, translates to 104 F. Ouch, yeah?

Cats and neurons conspired behind my back to plunk a Bruno Mars song into the morning mental music stream. I’d stirred from dreams this morning. Ready and waiting, Tucker pounced on my hand, tapping it for some loving. I began scratching him as directed. He reciprocated with motor-boat purrs. I asked in sotto voce, “You like how that makes you feel?” Just like that, the neurons delivered a ten-year-old song, “Locked Out of Heaven”. It bothered me a little as I song it to myself after feeding the cats and preparing my breakfast, because Bruno sings, “‘Cause your sex takes me to paradise, yeah, you sex takes me to paradise.” I told the neurons, you guys are a little bizarre, you know?

Stay positive, test negative, mask up as needed, space out as required, and, you know. Here’s the music. I hear a cup of coffee singing the song of my people. Cheers

Crossroads

Looking out

And up

Listening

Thinking

Speaking

And singing

Going to weddings

Graduating school

Walking the dog

Meeting friends

And lovers

Embarking on trips

Returning home

Cooking meals

Cleaning the house

And car

Speaking on phones

Disconnecting

Eating food

Drinking coffee

Or tea

Trying to decide

What to do

Where to go

What to say

Or wear

Wondering how to respond

Questioning

When to surrender

Make a stand

Or walk away

It’s such a crossroads

This day

This time

This moment

And year

Here comes another

Flash Dreams

These seem like a sequence of scenes from one long but fragmented dream.

I began with two young people, twentyish, male and female. Seated at a long folding table in a smallish room, definitely a temporary set up, the kind encountered at conventions and conferences for registration, they were going through papers I’d provided them about my visions, values, and dreams. Pens in hands, talking — and sometimes snickering — they made checkmarks and wrote notes. They seemed to be evaluating the for entrance somewhere, part of a process that I expected. I was the only one in there. I had other places to go and things to do.

A mother with her young children entered from a back door. Setting down a model of a dragon, she complained to me about the assignment’s difficulty. I loved her dragon, though, praising it for its blue and purple colors, telling her that she’d done a great job. As she departed, another mother — who turned out to be one of my younger sisters, G — entered with several children, She also had a dragon model, green and blue, and complained about the assignment’s level of difficulty. I complimented her on the model and her skill and imagination. As she was unmoved, I gave a pep talk, telling her that it was a stretch assignment to unleash her potential because I knew how creative, imaginative, and intelligent she was.

Next, I was out the door, walking with my wife, heading toward some sort of gathering. We were walking on a large asphalt area and our destination was a long way off. Scattered knots and small groups of other people were seen making their way, too. I roughly knew the way and told my wife that we needed to hurry. A coal-skinned squat man, very broad, walking with a cane, approached with a wide grin. Wearing a pork pie hat, he was dressed in black pants and coat, a green vest, and a white tee shirt, and was several inches shorter than me.

He asked if we were going to the event. I replied yes and he told me that he knew shortcuts which he would show us. That sounded fine. he took us on a diagonal course. My wife and I struggled to keep up with him. We had to go over a fence which was about knee high. Our guide went without problem, leaving me to wonder how he’d done it as I slowed, hopped the fence, and caught my pants cuff. As I finally freed myself, I saw a chain across an entry which was lower and realized he must have used that.

Another dream flash took over. I needed to change clothes. Uncertain about what to where, I had a wide selection of choices hanging on hangers on racks available. I tried and removed several. Everything looked good on me but was worried about being dressed not just for the event, where I was being honored, but also the weather. My wife joined me to hurry me along.

I moved into another dream segment. I was in a busy room. People filled tiers of desks and tables. Many consulted one another or spoke on phones.

I was standing toward the center. I realized that I knew something which they didn’t and began trying to explain. A large projection of a Google map sprawled across the room’s front. Taking an air mouse, I began scrolling up the map, telling everyone that what they needed was further north. The mouse and scrolling proved sensitive and difficult to manage. I kept scrolling up too far and then overcorrecting. People stopped paying attention as I worked the map and tried to find the place I wanted. I knew that it was far up north. I saw the Arctic Circle and told myself, it’s not that far, but then I saw an entire new land projected.

As I took in mountains, rivers, seas, and lakes, astonishment filled me. How did I never know about that area? I thought, too, it must be freezing cold up there, given how cold it could become in the northern continental United States. These places I was seeing were hundreds, maybe thousands of miles further north. But using the mouse, I found I could click on places and revealed information such as latitude and longitude. Displayed in negative numbers, they didn’t make sense. I began to guess that they were imaginary numbers, and thought, maybe it’s an imaginary land. Clicking more, I discovered the temperatures. Some said 20, 25, 30, and then I realized that these temperatures in Centigrade. They were warm places.

Dream end.

Friday’s Theme Music

A blizzard of dreams dominates my awakening consciousness. Friday’s sun is an amorphous presence hiding behind a pile of gray clouds. It’s June 17, 2022 but the air bares closer semblance to late April. Rain fell last night; more expected today. Our temp is 54 F and we look for a high in the mid-sixties. Sunrise came upon us at 5:33 AM and the sun’s turn will end at 8:50 PM.

We’re past June’s midpoint and bearing down on the year’s middle like a bull in Pamplona chasing a man darting in front of him.

The dreams left a song in my morning mental music stream. Or I’m blaming the dreams. Who knows what quantum entanglement and confused neurons really deposited the song? The song is “White Flag” by Dido out of (wait – let me look that up), yes, almost two decades ago 2003. Probably just word association between things witnessed in the dream and the song’s lyrics, things about giving up and surrendering.

Stay positive, etc. Coffee is in order, I think. Hope your Friday comes with a large order of positive energy and good experiences. Fingers crossed, you know? Here’s the tune. Cheers

Flooffective

Flooffective (floofinition) – Arising from or relating to animals and their influence on emotions or feelings.

In use: “His cats and dogs were his constant companions when he was home, underfoot while cooking and cleaning, assisting him on the laptop, watching television and reading with him, installing a floofective pattern to his planning.”

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