Category: Dreams

Thursday’s Theme Music

Today’s numbers are nine, 16, 2021, 7:19, 6:52, 64, and 81. Installing them in the right context outlines the day’s parameters. The date by month, day, and year. Sunset and sunrise. The air quality index and expected high temperatue in Fahrenheit. Context always helps.

After last night’s dreamathon, Elton John’s 1983 song, “I Guess That’s Why They Call It the Blues”, lodged itself into the mental music stream. Not sure how the song and dreams fit. Maybe they don’t. Perhaps the song was randomly selected from my cranial jukebox. Maybe I’m just a victim of some cosmic or quantum entanglement. This song is playing at another time, past or future, and I’m hearing it now. Maybe some relative or close friend is hearing or remembering it, and its transferring to my awareness. It could be that one of my cats is hearing it or thinking about it and projecting it onto me. I can’t guess.

Anyway, the EJ song is Thursday’s theme music. Stay positive, test negative, try to relax and have some fun, wear a mask as needed, get the vax, and have some coffee, as I’m about to do. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Greetings, life forms. I include the undead who might be reading this, too. And whatever other ethereal forms are browsing the net — or browsing history in some future state.

Anyway, today is Wednesday, September 15, 2021. Sunshine entered the valley at 6:51 AM. We expect it to fade away at 7:21 PM. Our high temperature will be in the low eighties. Our air is serviceable. Light traces of smoke and haze hang along the mountains’ tree lines but the AQI sits at 70, putting us in the Moderate (yellow) range. It’s a continued improvement that we’re happy to have.

In news, it was great to see that the California recall effort fizzled. Don’t live there but I used to. I live in Oregon, in fact, just a few miles north of the California – Oregon border. Have friends in California and still follow their politics. I didn’t want Larry Elder as governor of anywhere. He spouts reactionary garbage. The disaster it would have been were he to have replaced Newsom is nauseating to contemplate.

Most importantly, the loss throttles the precedence and encouragement it would create for Republicans to backdoor the system. Naturally, upon hearing that he was going to lose, that Newsom would not be recalled, Elder immediately cried, “Cheat!” It’s the GOP way of this century. It’s a good thing that they’re doing it. They’re raising an alarm for something that isn’t there. As it’s proven again and again that no fire is behind the smoke only they see, rational individuals will walk away from them and tune them out.

My night was heavy with dreams. It’s a monthly cycle. My mood goes up and down each month. Get quite dark for a day or two. Want nothing to do with the world, writing, cats, or myself in those hours. Being aware of it helps. cope. I just endure and ensure I don’t do anything stupid during the darkness.

Anyway as part of the peak, versus being in the trough, my mind is busy with dreams. After waking up and thinking them over doing all my morning rituals, I settled with my coffee. About then, a 1991 Yes song percolated into the morning music stream. “Life Me Up” was the group’s last hit, as far as I know. Not that I track these things but others do, and I read that. Not my favorite Yes song (hah – funny that, if you know their albums) but no doubt it’s a Yes song.

Stay positive, test negative, stay in the groove, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music. Time for more coffee, I believe. Cheers

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Another Kind of Flying Dream

This was a different take on flying dreams. It’s actually a segment of a large dream sequence but this part had me smiling.

So the dream heavily featured my father- and mother-in-law. Both are deceased with my MIL passing a few years ago and FIL passing in 1991, shortly after his retirement at age 65. I had a good relationship with both.

They were young in this dream and their physiques reflected their younger selves. In this dream, there was a point where they announced to my wife and I, “We’re no longer driving. We’re going to fly everywhere from now on.”

O-kaaayyy. Their announcement left their daughter and I with multiple questions. How were they planning to do this? Jump on airplanes? And what did they mean when they said —

Well, even as we were wondering about these and other aspects, my in-laws produced am airplane. Think a small Cessna. Piper Cub. Single prop. High wings. Red and white. It was clear now that they intended to fly themselves. Which defied expectations. Neither had a pilot’s license when alive. Neither had even flown many times.

But, okay. There was an announcement then that we were going to the grocery store and they were flying us. My wife and I are in the airplane with them. We’re still discussing what’s planned and how this is possible but we take off. But I’m challenging my wife, how are they going to take us to a store? So many obstacles exist, right?

My wife and I are in the back. But we’re seated backwards, facing the rear. I turn around to see what’s going on and realize, they’re going to fly down the street. Below the overpass. Past the buildings, trees, and wires.

Holy shit!

The aircraft’s rotation, yaw, and pitch are all wrong. At one point, we’re between a set of telephone wires with the aircraft nose pointing straight up. My wife and I are giddy with laughter about the affair. But they’re calm and casual up front. The in-laws land the aircraft in the store parking lot. And park us between cars.

Segment end.

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A Mystery Dream

It’s a tense movie melodrama. A sister-in-law has disappeared. We recount where and when she was last seen or heard, trying to establish where she might before. Then, we know. Her vulgar ex-husband has killed her. We can see this even though it’s already happened, and took place somewhere else. A race is begun. He’s washing himself, washing his clothes, cleaning out the bed of his truck, ridding himself of evidence, as we rush in to stop him, to find evidence, to call the police, to give them time to arrive.

And there is where it stops.

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A Flood Dream

A short dream, but with impact. Boxes of food were being handed out. Large boxes but not of a uniform size. Mostly brown. Although the boxes didn’t have lids, I don’t know what food was inside them.

Like others, I hurried to get a box of food. That required me to go onto a cement portico surrounded by shadowy white colonnades. The boxes were happily given out and equally happily received. After getting one box, it was suggested that I go back and try to get another one. When I went back, the person giving them out recognized me. He said, “I wouldn’t be going for these boxes, I’d be going for something to survive the flood.”

I didn’t know what flood he talked about. I accepted the box and returned to the others, puzzling over what he’d said. I told them. We debated what he meant, and how the boxes might be different, if they’re for a flood. I decided that I’d get boxes to survive a flood, just be on the safe side and went back to the issuing area. Dark brown flood waters were already to my knees at that point. No more boxes were being handed out. The people giving them out were gone.

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Coffee and Dreams

I awoke at about half past darkness with a dream in mind. Realized that I was writing in my dream.

I went over what I’d written. Considered rising to capture it. Decided not to. Resumed sleep.

Awoke in the morning. Went through dreams while doing light exercising and stretching. Daily ritual. The cats assumed the position. Stared fixedly with misery. Tucker seized a more active approach. Moved over and sat on my foot. Looked up at me. Eyes big. Waiting. Expectant. Give a little, “Mello,” in a friendly baritone.

Done with exercising, feeding cats was necessary before starvation took them. We went down the hall, they with eager anticipation, me with resignation. Cleaned out bowls — “You never even finished what I fed you last night” — opened a can. Doled out the wet food. Refilled the kibble stations. Cleaned and filled the water stations.

Coffee was brewed. Before it finished, I was back with the dream writing stuff. Headed to the computer. Wrote for an hour. Surprising how fresh and clear it had remained. Got up when my Fitbit reminded me that it was time to move. Remembered my coffee. Now cold. Drank some anyway. My taste buds immediately sent notices that this was unacceptable. I nuked the coffee hot. The taste buds were appalled.

Writing in my head was still happening. Hadn’t eaten yet but the muses were strong. So, despite the stomach’s increasingly vocal demands, I made fresh coffee and returned to the keyboard. Got back into the rhythm.

Half the coffee remains. It’s almost cold. Mug radiates an ant watt of warmth. Taste buds are not overly pleased with the dark fluid’s progress over their realm.

But it all works. Coffee and dreams. At least, today. Time to eat, according to my stomach. Get some real coffee, too, the taste buds request. Something hot and dark, please.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

First, standard warnings. The outside air is unhealthy. Recommend you avoid going outside. Don’t exert yourself outside. People with respiratory issues should take additional precautions.

COVID-19 positives cases remain high as vaccination rates continue to wane. ICUs are full. Wear a mask when outside your home, especially when in stores and restaurants. Social distance. The library is closed to browsing but there is front door service.

Welcome to Thursday, September 9, 2021.

It’s similar to Wednesday and Tuesday. Many of us wonder, when will this stop? The smoke. COVID-19. Drought. Water shortages.

Sunrise was at 6:44 AM. Sunset will be at 7:33 PM. Saw a big red-orange ball in the sky late yesterday afternoon. Purported to be the sun. And darkness did gather when it disappeared. So, cause and effect, must’ve been the sun.

Temperatures today will remain warm but not hot with a forecast high in the mid to open eighties.

A Wham song is rooted in the morning musical mental stream. This is a dream’s influence. I’m still sorting the dream. The song is “Everything She Wants” from 1984. I respect Wham and George Michael but their music wasn’t the sort I generally paid mind. But my female friends and wife looked their music so I heard it often. I’m still piecing together why it was in my dreamscape’s musical score.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music and there’s my coffee. Cheers

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An Instruction Dream

This dream featured Mila Kunis and included my SIL, along with a cost of fifty more strangers.

I was sitting in a terminal. Don’t know what means of transportation, only that I was on a journey and waiting to start the next leg. Beside me, one empty seat removed, is Mila Kunis. She’s on the same trip. She is talking about where she’s been and where she’s going, answering questions for people. I’m listening but not paying deep attention to her.

We’ve been given a package. Included in that package is a small, tattered book. Small, about 1/2 inch thick, four inches by three inches. Black or dark blue or green. The cover color might be different for other people in the group. I’ve seen some with red, brown, and tan, but I’m not certain that they have the same book. I’ve opened my book. The pages are very thin. There are symbols inside. The symbols look like hieroglyphics in faded black ink. Bird, eyes, pyramids. I begin working my way through the symbols because I think they’re important to learn. I’m soon starting to read other material and interpret it by using the symbols.

My SIL comes up. We’re surprised and pleased to see one another. She’s traveling, too. We’re going to the same place. Asked me what I’m doing with the book. She’s noticed it but I’m the only one in the group with it open. I explain what I’m doing and what I’ve learned so far. She tells me that’s a great idea, that she wants to do that, too, can I help her get started? I agree, and I start reading things to her, explaining the symbols and their relationships. Mila Kunis joins us to learn, too.

We’re all then called to move to another section. When I go there, I realize that I’ve seen the new place. They’re part of the symbols. I realize, too, that for us to move forward as planned, we need as a group to be arranged differently. I mention these things to SIL and Mila. SIL calls that out to the travel leader. The leader doesn’t know about it but he believes me. He wants me to arrange everyone as they should be.

I give instructions. Everyone has a chair. They need to be in one straight line at a specific place. I tell them to do this. When we finish, another group arrives and then ‘takes off’. The group I’m in wants to know why they went first. I explain, “Because their line was straight. We’re not aligned.” I’m looking along the line of chairs. It’s a tiled floor. With the tile pattern, it’s very easy to see that we’re not aligned.

I explain that to everyone. “Look at where you’re sitting. Look at the line on the tile. We need to be in a straight line. You should all be aligned on the same line of tile.” I walk along, repeating this, pointing it out to people, encouraging them to move and fix the line. They finish doing that. We’re ready to take off.

I turn to wait. I’m the only one standing but that, it seems from my reading, is right. While I’m waiting, I resume studying the book.

Dream end.

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A WV Dream

Dreamed I was in West Virginia last night. An interesting twist to recent dream trends. I lived in WV for three years. My father had moved there as part of a business deal. I went with him, graduating high school there before joining the military back in 1974. I’ve been back a few times since. Dad no longer lives there.

In this dream, I was back as a guest, and was about twenty years old. Apparently some show that I created was going into production. It somehow involved WV. So I was there, soaking up local flavor. I was also mindful that many wanted to be part of the show and were trying to impress me. Much of what was to transpire would be recorded by a film crew following me around. But the crew wasn’t always around.

It was late afternoon on what felt and seemed like an early fall day, sunny with clouds. A young man wanted to take me around to show me the real WV. I was skeptical and nervous, actually a bit fearful, but I wanted this experience. So I said, “Okay, lead on.” Eagerly he drove me to another location in a dilapidated, smoking car. He talked through a broad grin and heavy accent the entire time. Was taking me to meet others and have a drink. Having parked, we were required to walk down a hill to a house. Three other young men, my host’s friends, met us. They seemed dubious and suspicious of me. Then, apparently realizing who I was, became eager to impress me. First, I was poured some clear drink that was a potent local vintage alcohol. They downed their shots and urged me to drink mine. I did with a wince, enduring a blaze down my gullet.

Next we walked to another location. They were all talking as we went. We came to an enclosure. My senses and thinking were overwhelmed by then. The enclosure looked muddy. Fenced in, it apparently presented some threat. They discussed it; I didn’t understand. One explained to me, “Carefully edge around this.” They were showing me where to go. Up along a wall. Over a small fence. Along another wall. They would go another way as a distraction.

I climbed over the cyclone fence. Footing is uneven. The space is narrow. Began going along a crumbling stone wall. The fall would only be five or six feet but they’d warned me not to fall. Suddenly, yelling. A woman is yelling at me. A barking dog races over the enclosure at me. The others, who were supposed to be creating the diversion, are up at the top, urging me to hurry. I speed up. The dog runs up and starts nipping at my legs. I get over the final fence. We all laugh about this.

We pack into a small car for a short drive. The experience has relieved tension. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. We’re more amicable and trusting. We take a short drive along a winding back road. Arrive at another’s place. Not sure if it’s a bar or a home. About twenty people are there, waiting to meet me. I’m walked around, introduced to people. They’re eyeing me, asking questions about the project. I’m laughing, comfortable and happy as I answer them.

Dream end

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Welcome to Sunday, September 5, 2021. It’s September’s first Sunday, which means tomorrow is September’s first Monday, and that rhymes with Labor Day weekend in America. Yes, it’s the day when summer is considered done. The season is yet to change for a few weeks. That doesn’t matter. Summer is done. Vacations are wound down. Children return to class. Grills are fired up for one last hurrah.

Back east, my family has the grand cookout planned. Sister #3 is coordinating the effort. She is the hostess. Sixteen are attending. Mom is taking dessert: an apple pie, chocolate peanut butter bars, and tuxedo cake. She made the bars, purchased the rest. Yes, it’s overkill. Food overkill is the family tradition on these holidays. My brother-in-law will be at the grill. He’s a master. Wish I cold be there but it’s several thousand miles east of here. Takes a day of flying or several days of driving. Where’s a bullet train when you need it?

They’re two degrees south of us at home in Penn Hills, PA. About 1500 feet lower in elevation. Makes a difference with sunrise and sunrise. Temperatures. Sunrise locally was 6:41 AM. Sunset will be 7:38. Yep, less than twelve hours of sunshine today mitigating the smoke today. Our high will be in the mid-eighties. Mom says it’ll probably be in the seventies at their place. So, cooler there, with a lower AQI. Ours is 237 now. Purple. Very unhealthy to breathe. Penn Hills has an AQI of 16.

My dreams have summoned The Police and their frenetic ballad from 1983, Synchronicity I, to the morning mental music stream (McubedS, patent pending). My dreams didn’t come out wholly baked today. Only mutterings and glimpses in the fog remain. The strongest sensation was of dancing. I was going to a dance or dancing somewhere. Yes, something about a dance but what? No other elements would return.

The thinking sequence stirred me to recall “Synchronicity I” lines: A sleep trance, a dream dance, a shared romance, synhronicity. That became the day’s theme music for me.

Stay positive. Test negative. Wear a mask as needed. Get the vax if you haven’t already. Try to remain somewhat sane. I think it’s a spectrum myself. Fluctuating by the hour. Sanity, that is. Here’s the music. Cheers

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