Category: Dreams

The Arm Repair Dream

I broke my arm on July 7 this year. I’m healing fine but am thwarted by the inconvenience. My dream subconscious response amused me.

I was with other people. My arm was broken and in a white cast. Sitting and chatting with others on a round plaza outside, I was dressed in black pants and shirt, and enjoying myself. I noticed a tall, bald black man working his way through the crowd. Like me, he was dressed in black pants and shirt.

As he closed, our eyes met. I said, “Hi, how’s it going?”

“Pretty good, you?”

“Good, thanks.”

“Good.” He was standing beside me now. “How’s your arm?”

I held it up. “Broken.”

“I know. I’m here to fix it.”

“It’s fixed. It’s healing.”

“How ’bout if I give you a new arm?”

I laughed. 

He grinned. “How ’bout if I give you one of mine?”

“That’s generous of you, but don’t you need it?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll grow another.”

“Well, no offense, but your arm is black. I’d have one black arm and one white one.”

“So? It’ll change.” He pulled his arm off and stuck it on my shoulder.

(I’ve thought a lot about this, and I don’t recall him removing my arm first.)

I was standing by then, holding my new arm out. It was white, just like the other one.

Giving me a side look, he said. “You’re always worrying about the wrong things.”

2

An Erotic Dream

It began with a friend and a table set for a formal dinner. 

The dream friend was no one I recognize from life. Although all friends in the dream, none are real existence folk, unless we’re getting into alt dimensions and existences. I may know them there. Yeah, maybe the dream was reality bleedover. What a life I must live over there.

I was happy, going to this engagement. A few minutes early, I arrived first. The table was sage green. Set up outside, in a driveway, the fine china, crystals, and linen looked beautiful on this table. Side tables offered food and drink.  The host, a young, well-groomed blonde man, was pleased to see me and took me around, explaining the courses. Then, showing off the wines, he said, “I have a wonderful white wine. Here, taste.” He poured some into crystal stemware.

With him watching and smiling, I sipped. “This is amazing.”

“Isn’t it? For dessert, there’s cherry surprise.” He offered me a spoonful of it.

I was impressed. “Fantastic.”

Others arrived. An announcement was made: “We need to change locations.” The table, with all the food and wine disappeared. Others arrived asked, “Where is everything?’

Knowing exactly where to go, “It’s over here. Come on, follow me.”

I led them around the corner to where the table was. A brunette white woman in a navy skirt and white blouse said, “This looks wonderful. Is there any wine?”

I replied, “Yes, he has a wonderful white.” I poured her a glass.

She sipped as I watched. “Oh, that’s delicious,” she said. “What’s for dessert?”

“Cherry surprise,” I answered, turning away. “I’ll get you some.”

“Okay, I’ll watch your rear.” She squeezed my butt.

Startled, I turned and faced her. She began kissing and feeling me. Then she began undressing me. I was reciprocating. Then —

Well, I’m stopping there.

I’m not that kind of writer.

0

A Wistful Dream

Light and airy was how to describe this dream. It was all about a friend, Kev. I’ve not seen him in over twenty years. A military friend, we were assigned together in California (Onizuka). Though he was about ten years younger and assigned to a different unit, we spent a lot of time together during off hours. Our relationship continued after I retired from the military. Then we each moved. I went north and he went east. We are FB friends.

I recognized after thinking about the dream that he’s emblematic of better times, fun times…younger times. There’s nothing in any of this. I’m twenty years older and more aware of my life changes. Fold in the pandemic situation, isolation, and the travel and activity restrictions incurred with the situation. Add a cup of writing frustration. Stir in a tablespoon of malaise because of my broken arm and self-pity. Bake.

In the dream, I found a piece of paper. Reading its contents, I realized that it could only come from Kev and went to find him, which was immediately achieved. We struck it off again as we always had. He was back from a temporary assignment somewhere and filled me in Then, growing sad, he told me childhood stories and began a tragic tale about a female friend. He never finished that story.

It reminded me of so much that’s incomplete.

0

The Computer Painting Dream

It began like I was in one of my previous professions. At work, I received a phone call. A customer was having problems with his computer security. Well, those products ere being discontinued and his license keys had expired. Nonetheless, I cut new keys for him, directed him to a site to download them, and walked him through reinstallation. This is a process that would’ve taken some time but in dreamland, it was just a few minutes. Also, my dream office was much nicer and impressive than my real digs. It all seemed so sharp, it could’ve been real time.

The CEO came by. We chatted, and then drifted in opposite directions to new meetings. In my meeting, we were preparing to paint. Friends entered with the tablets. We stretched them out into large electronic canvases Then we painted on the screens. The tablets absorbed it, becoming a malleable medium. My painting was a large portrait of a blond woman in a yellow dress juggling tangerines.

Chinese food was brought in. We stopped to eat and talk about our work. A nearby young woman had been complaining about her finger. I told her to show me. She stuck out a blackened pinky.

“Your blood isn’t flowing,” I said. “Get me a needle and bowl.”

Holding onto her finger, I pricked her and squeezed her finger. Thick, black drops that behaved like mercury fell into the bowl. After doing that for about twenty seconds, her finger was normal.

End dream.

 

0

Some Dream Highlights

Such a strange, long dream.

At one point, I let a little pet mouse out of the bathroom into the rain. Yellow walls and a naked yellow light, decrepit age, and a sloping dirt floor defined the bathroom. I didn’t want to let the little mouse out. I knew it was storming and night, unsafe conditions, to me. I didn’t know what the mouse knew. Letting him out with regret, I vowed to check on him.

Then, dreamshift, I was at work, a new job with a familiar feel. A new boss arrived. Others were at work at clusters of desks. I was shown a desk that was to be mine but decided to find and reclaim my previous place, which I then did. I cleaned it, finding old stuff of mine. Sorting it, I decided what to keep and toss. Then, speaking with a female co-worker, I re-oriented my desk to watch the front door. I told her that I wanted to see what was going on. She agreed that was the best way to face.

My mail was delivered. It was a lot but not as much as I expected. Off I went to find the rest. As I began, the office administrator arrived with a large bundle of mail for me.

Now, dreamshift again, I was leaving with my wife to return to our hotel. First, I went back to the yellow bathroom and pulled open the door. The little mouse hurried in from the rain with a grateful look my way.

My wife and I were walking through a large market on the way back to the hotel. Then she said, “I want to get something.” I asked her what. She replied but I couldn’t hear her. She went off, leaving me to mill around.

Friends in the military came by, heading to the marshalling area to deploy. I was happy to see them. Walking with them, I told them about changes in the area because they weren’t aware. Breaking off as they arrived at their destination, I joined up with my wife. She was still shopping. Like before, I asked her what she was after. She replied but I couldn’t hear her. She went off, leaving me with a commiserating shop owner. I decided to continue to the hotel instead of waiting.

Dream end.

 

4

A Sandwich Dream

The trip was starting. Anticipation uplifted me excited energy. But first —

A young boy called after me. Seeing his grin, I answered with the same. “Did you get it?” I asked as he ran up to me. “Did yu get the one you wanted?”

“Better,” the boy replied. “He gave me both my first and second choices.”

I hugged him. “I’m happy for you.” Then I rushed off to my journey.

Events interrupted. I needed my recall roster.*

Where was it? Where was it? I scurried about, opening and closing drawers in search of it as others asked, “Do you have your recall roster,” or told me, “You need your recall roster.”

“I know, I know,” I kept saying. Opening an old wooden rolltop desk, I discovered two fresh sandwiches on plates. “So that’s where I put those.”

I didn’t need two sandwiches so I fed one to a friend’s dog, then took the other sandwich out and place it on a table to eat. Another sandwich of another kind was already on the table. A passing friend said, “I picked up that sandwich for you, Michael.” As I thanked them, another sandwich was put on a plate before me. “For you,” another friend said.

I protested, “I already have a sandwich. Who needs a sandwich?”

Others joined me, eager for a sandwich. As I began eating, I found I had one sandwich left over. A man sat to my right. “Mind if I eat this, Michael?”

“No.” I realized the man picking up the sandwich was my main character.

That made me laugh.

 

* Recall Roster – a telephone contact list used for mobilization and rapid notifications

 

0

Friday’s Theme Music

Yeah, a free association flow today ended up with this song. It started with writing.

Yesterday morning…stalled on writing a scene. Overthinking it, my home-grown inner writing coach screamed. “Do it!”

Despite that exhortation, I resisted and fiddled. Knowing self, though, finally opened doc, went to scene, started reading and fiddling with words. Then, ah…sweet relief as sentences flowed in and out.

Then, pop: revelation. Surprise. Unseen connections and directions illuminated. Go: write like crazy.

Done with the one-handed writing for the day, the writing continued in my gray space — the brain, yeah, but also those nano vacancies visited while watching TV, petting a cat, searching the sky, scrolling the news — and new nuances proliferated. As it happened (continuing in dream material), it came at last as another piece in the characters’ stained- glass personae: desire.

Who they think they are, claim to be, try to be, fail to be, are seen to be, were before, dream to be, and are said to be punched together.

So, today’s theme music is U2’s “Desire” from 1988.

0

The Energy Dream

Antsy and restless, my wife and I awaited an event. 

We were seated in chairs outdoors, on a corner, by a dark sea. She was across from me. A sharp, blustery wind and leaden sky frequently pierced by sunshine highlighted a roiling, uneven intensity.

The mood I felt permeated a growing crowd. Roving gangs and knots of teenagers prowled, seeking outlets and distractions. I frequently looked to the horizon, waiting for the change that we feared and expected. A young woman who I vaguely knew came and sat on my lap. First she tried cajoling me into buying her a car. My wife, opposite, made snarky comments about the girl to friends. The girl annoyed me. She then tried seducing me, pushing my annoyance to the point that I removed her, and got up to walk.

The girl followed me, making comments. I decided it would be important for us to have water for what was to come and went to find some. My search brought me to a welcome center. Made mostly of clean bright white plastic, a lone, awkward appearing manned the place.

He spoke to me but I mostly ignored him. Multiple water dispensers existed but there weren’t any containers. I found a tin thing which I repurposed, then filled it. I tasted the water; it was fine. Looking at it, I discovered fine black sediment suspended in it. Pouring that water out, I cleaned the vessel, refilled it, and hurried back to the corner.

The event seemed to be beginning. We all gathered, standing to watch the ocean. A tall dark storm lit by silvery white backlight sprawled across the horizon. As a general said, “Here it comes. It’s bigger than expected,” a stern wind struck.

Although the wind rocked me back, his comments soothed me. I was happy that it was finally beginning. The general said, “It’s going to take longer to come because it’s bigger than expected.”

I was nodding because I was okay with that. Now that it was beginning, everyone relaxed and watched. Drinking crystal clear water from my tin, I waited.

0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Today’s theme music, “All My Life” by the Foo Fighters (2002), is directly related to my dream.

All my life I’ve been searching for something
Something never comes, never leads to nothing
Nothing satisfies, but I’m getting close
Closer to the prize at the end of the rope
All night long I dream of the day
When it comes around, then it’s taken away
Leaves me with the feeling that I feel the most
Feel it come to life when I see your ghost

h/t to Genius.com

The extended opening riffs, followed by Grohl’s breathy, terse delivery of those first lines, convey the dream’s edgy restlessness.

Done, done, I’m on to the next one. Love that declaration.

0

Night Escape Dream

I needed to get across town, at night. I worried about being caught.

I was on foot. A moonlit night blessed the mild night, a double-edged blade; I could see but could be seen.

The area was known, a small town in southern West Virginia. Going down a hill by a highway, my senses sharp, I darted from corner to corner, building to building, All were commercial buildings. Most were closed.

Then I heard someone coming. Terrified of being caught, I slipped into a building.

A private club. it was open, and packed. Walking in, seeing a full room, I slipped down some stairs…

And into another full, crowded room.

Well-lit, everyone looked at me. All were white men and women. Nodding hello, I mumbled something about being sent down here to wait. Nodding understanding, everyone resumed what they were doing. Turning, I spied a darker, quiet room and popped into it. Empty. Safe.

I stayed, resting there for a while, then exited into the night again. As I crossed a cinder parking lot, I heard someone calling me.

Running, she caught up with me. Giddy and out of breath, she said she’d go home with me. I explained that I wasn’t going home and that she wasn’t safe with me, but she insisted.

I changed plans. I’d get her home, then continue on my mission.

We pressed on.

She complained. She was tired and hungry. She wanted to rest.

Knowing of a home that belonged to an acquaintance, I detoured and broke into the house. Finding a soft surface with a blanket, we went to sleep.

Children awoke us. They weren’t scared but pleased with our presence. A black man, my acquaintance, came down. After initial surprise, he was welcoming, friendly, and reassuring. Then, just as we relaxed, he issued a warning: “Look out.” A name I didn’t catch was coming.

We pulled the blankets over our heads. Noises rose. What the hell?

A large dark dog shoved his head under the blanket. As we pulled it back, thinking, caught, my acquaintance explained that the dog was the slobber monster, that he had to smell and slobber over everything.

The dream’s tenor changed. We relaxed. As my wife watched TV with the children. I chatted with my friend, and he fried bacon and eggs for us for breakfast. I planned to get my wife home, and go on.

0

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