Category: Dreams

The Access Dream

This dream progressed like I was watching a television show. I knew it was me — it was a twenty-something edition of me — but it was outside of me. The camera showed me and the others in close-ups, panning, wide-shots, etc.

I was outside, part of a growing gathering. It seemed like a fair or something was opening. My wife and some friends were present, queuing to enter.

A few minutes before the gates were due to open, people came out selling access badges. A short, young woman came up to me and sold me a badge, along with several others. The badge looked like a flimsy beige rectangular band-aid. She was talking to several of us simultaneously, selling us badges and telling us to wear them. I joked, “Wear them where?”

She said, “Anywhere.”

I examined it. It was amazingly flexible, thinner than a standard playing card, and about the same size, but it felt unusual in my hand, like it was vibrating. “What if I stick it on my neck?” I did that as I asked. I laughed after asking and glanced around. Others were putting them their shirt chest or their wrist. I thought that was boring.

The sales person shrugged. “Sure, that’ll work. Anywhere will work. Want to buy another?”

“Why would I want another? Doesn’t this give me access to everything?”

“Yes, but it has a time limit. It expires after a day.”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I think it’ll be enough for me.”

Stepping closer to me, she replied in a low voice, “You should take more. I’m giving them away for free. The time limit is just what we tell people. The more you have, the greater access you have, but they don’t want everyone to have access.”

“But I can have access? Okay,” I said with a surprised smile. “I’ll take more.”

Giving me several more, she said looked around and then said, “Come find me later. I’ll give you more.”

The dream ended.

0

The Food Offer Dream

Dreams last night were like I was watching through a kaleidoscope. Not much stayed with me.

One section I remember was a stylish, older woman asking me if I’d eaten. Post Malone’s song, “Circles”, played in the background. We were in a très modern house. Before I could answer her, she said, “You look as if you’re famished. We have very good food here.”

Before I replied — I was thinking that I’d politely turn her down — a tall white man with gray hair and matching goatee entered from another hall, to my right. She introduced him as my chef and said that he would feed me. The man said, “Yes, I make wonderful food, everyone says so. Tell me, what would you like to eat?” He was not dressed as a chef, but wore a black shirt under a light gray sport coat.

At that point, I said, “I’m not hungry,” but the woman at the same time said, “I’ll leave you two to it.” She left.

The man said, “Here, come this way, my kitchen is just here.”

I said, “I’m not hungry.”

We rounded a corner. A large kitchen was to the left. Dark, glistening counters were filled with plates of food. The man gestured toward them. “What would you like? Just help yourself. If you don’t see anything that you want, I can make it for you.”

I was still taking in the food. Besides the kitchen, a breakfast bar was covered with food. Past that was a well-lit dining room, with a table and buffet heaped with food. I saw roasts, turkeys, grapes, and bowls of fruit.

The man said, “Are you a person who likes to stand up or sit down when you eat?”

The segment ended.

###

Another that I remember was a montage of my late mother-in-law saying, “I suppose.” That was like her catchall phrase. Do you want to eat? Would you like Chinese food? Do you mind if we do x and x? To almost every query, she replied, “I suppose.” That’s all the dream segment was: her saying, in various ways, at different ages and settings, “I suppose.”

0

Monday’s Theme Music

This was used in a dream’s as background music. These were the specific lyrics that kept looping:

I dare you to do something
I’m  waiting on you again, so I don’t take the blame
Run away, but we’re running in circles
Run away, run away, run away

It’s Post Malone, “Circles” (2019). The song has received a lot of airplay in the car and as music in stores and coffee shops, so I guess it found a niche in my mind and then just fed into the stream.

Quite a different video, and interesting.

 

0

The Puzzle Dream

It was a challenge to put this dream together, which is so much like a jigsaw. Ironic, as I was making jigsaw puzzles in the dream.

Which is where memories say, this is how it started. Outside, among other people but working alone, I was making and putting together a jigsaw puzzle. When I finished, I had an operating and functional car. I don’t know what kind it was, except that it was a dark, sleek sports car. I was so pleased with it that I was emitting a little, “Yea,” as I surveyed it while circling it.

Others noticed my completed car puzzle and approached with astonishment and appreciation. Most said, “That’s amazing,” or, “That’s so cool.” I was agreeing with them. People asked if it worked, and I started it up for them, showing that it ran. Others asked if I could do it again, and if I could do it with more than cars.

Which I could. I kept producing things of all sizes and manner. I’d make something flat and one-dimensional, cut it up, and then create a real, functioning thing from it. People were amazed. I’d impressed myself, too, but my confident was rising. I thought, I can do this, then I can do so much more. My mind was spinning with the possibilities.

I ended up at a fête, a large, elaborate, but casual affair. I was one of several featured guests. Numerous celebrities were in residence. All made it a point to meet me, shake my hand, and congratulate me on my puzzles.

Several people asked if I could make them jigsaw puzzles. I found that I could. If they could give me a photograph, I’d cut it up and create a bust from them. Then I started doing it with phones. I could take a photo on a cell phone, draw it up into the air, and duplicate it as a full-sized image or bust, depending on the image.

I ended up in a white pavilion. People began settling at tables to eat. Vince Vaughn approached me. Trying to place me, he said, “That’s right, you’re that guy who makes those things.” I realized that he was drunk.

A hockey game was going on beside us. He didn’t understand the rules, because he was going by the old rules, and they’d changed. I started explaining that to him, but he walked off to another table. Watching him, I waited for him to return so I could finish explaining.

The dream ended.

0

Friday’s Theme Music

Weep for yourself, my man,
You’ll never be what is in your heart
Weep, little lion man,
You’re not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself
Take all the courage you have left
And waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head

But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn’t I, my dear?
Didn’t I, my…

h/t to AZLyrics cuz cut and paste is easier than typing.

So it was that “Little Lion Man” by Mumford & Sons (2009) was going through my head this morning. Writing, a dream, and cats share almost equal weight in bringing the song into my stream.

The dream was about jigsaw puzzles, parties, hockey, and drunk celebrities in a brightly lit and strangely joyful montage that also seemed a bit fucked up, and left me to, well, puzzle it out. The cat was the little ginger lion that I was talking to this morning (you’re not as brave as you were at the start). Writing…well, writing is all about fixing the problems in my head. Not exactly a dark place, but not a clean, well-lighted place for enjoying life, either.

So, now, after singing the song to myself yesterday after writing, it returned to me after thinking about my dreams this morning, and gained strength when I was talking with the cat. Thus, it must be outed from my stream before it gains too much steam and stays too long.

For the record, I enjoy Mumford & Sons’ style, and its infusion of unique sounds in rock music. This video, with its intensity, and the sense of isolation and alienation that I find in it, keeps me watching. It’s like a confession that he’s making to himself but also a dialogue in his head that he imagines having, as the others play and listen. Then, they all join in, as though it was universal to the band members. Through it all flows introspection, a simmering sense of regret, and a realization.

 

0

Raining Color Dream

After thinking about dreams and posting today’s theme music (“Highway Star”, Deep Purple, 1972), I was fixing brekkie when a dream segment blasted into memory.

I was a child, maybe nine or ten, but could’ve younger, outside with many other children. Blue sky, sunshine, laughing, and game-playing established the background. We were having a great time.

I was heading toward a picnic table by tall pine trees when I heard others gasping. That caused me to look up. When I did, I discovered it was raining. No clouds were visible, but rain was falling.

A bold, shimmering rainbow formed. It seemed like it was right over our heads, so close and solid that we were trying to jump up and touch it. Then the rain became drops of falling color. The colors splashed over us, making us giddy with laughter. We discovered we could cup our hands and catch handfuls of color and pour them over ourselves and one another. Blues, purples, reds, yellows, oranges, and greens were pooling on the ground and streaming together into rainbows that flowed across the land.

Splashing and stomping in these flowing rainbows, we discovered that we could pick up the colored water and shape it like very wet and malleable clay.

The dream ended.

My heart rushes as I remember it.

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music

The dreams were too cra-cra to even begin to parse more than snippets of scenes. They were all about some kind of business some people where people wanted me involved, and stars. Shooting stars, nebulae, and galaxies seemed like a heavy theme. Sometimes it seemed like I was in a spaceship looking out at stars, galaxies, and nebulae somewhere, except there wasn’t a spaceship. Just me and the stars. Those scenes stayed interspersed with the business scenes and other scenes that are mere flickers — on rocks by water, a flower, the sun.

Okay, from it, memories introduce Deep Purple playing “Highway Star” (1972) from the album Machine Head. It’s a fast-tempo song. It’s Deep Purple, so there is a large infusion of keyboards, but it’s Deep Purple, so it’s hard-rocking with guitars and drums, a perfect song to have cranked up on a cold night when you’re cruising in a car with your friends.

0

A Chaotic Collage Dream

It was messed up from go, a frenzied and frantic circus. It took me a while to work into any semblance of coherent structured memory, and I could be wrong. Then, again, this is what I took from it, so…

The dream included Mom, wife, peeing, being in the military (yeah, again), cleaning, and, well, chaos.

Chaos was the overall theme. In the beginning, I needed to use the restroom. After I did, Mom came in to clean after me while I changed into my Air Force uniform and hurried off to work as my wife kissed me good-bye.

I was in command and control once again. Once again, I faced a disorganized situation. Aircraft were inbound. Some carried VIPs, but an inspection team was also due, and we were not ready. I scrambled to get us ready, working up checklists and procedures, trying to train other people, and setting up flight-following boards. This was being done against radios blaring with communications with commanders and aircraft, and ringing telephones.

Then I had to use the restroom again. Rushing over there, I found the facilities inadequate, but my bowels didn’t care. Lowering myself to the tiny seat on the tiny bowl, I did my business. When I finished, I discovered I’d pissed on the floor.

As I discovered that, old women who were present chided me, “Oh, your mother isn’t going to be happy about that.” Well, no, d’uh? Who would be? I rushed to clean it up using white towels, but there seemed too much of it for the towel, and it was taking up too much time.

Mom arrived, as the women predicted (and noted). While chastising me for the mess, Mom shooed me away (“Go to work, I’ll clean it up.”) She dropped to her knees to clean the floor as I donned my uniform again and raced away.

My wife intercepted me to tell me that there was a problem. As she did that, my co-workers called out to inform me that the aircraft were arriving. Then the commander called me and said, “There’s a change of plans.” Oy, vey,

The dream ended.

Yeah, I see how it all speaks to my current frenzy of thought and direction.

0

The Lions Dream

My wife and I were outside on a warm day. Tall, golden brown grasses rose to our thighs. We were on a slope.  A single tree was close by.

Feeling relaxed, like we were on a vacation, we were talking and slowly moving, glancing around as we were, going in slightly different directions but generally down a gentle decline. Facing toward my wife and watching her, I caught sight of something to my right. Looking that way, I saw a trio of lions. They were watching my wife.

I said, “Don’t run, but a lion is watching you.” I was trying to think of all the things that you’re supposed to do when a lion is after you so that I could tell her, but as I was thinking, she turned and began running away.

“I said, don’t run,” I said with irritation, watching her run. As I feared, I saw a big male lion rise and follow her.

“Stop running,” I called, trying not to speak too loudly. The lion had to go by me. Picking up a large stick, I approached the lion. As I did, though, I was aware that a female lion and a lion cub were now coming after me. At the same time, my efforts with the stick had drawn the male’s attention.

I told my wife, “They’re not after you. Keep going, but go slowly. I’ll keep their attention.”

My wife made some sort of protest. They reminded the lions about her. I imagined them thinking, he has the stick, and he’s bigger, so let’s go after her, plus she’s running. A lion is a cat. Cats like motion.

I said to the lions, “No, come after me. Look at me.” I waved my arms and hit the stick against the ground. I felt fearless. I felt like I could stop the lions from doing anything, that I could somehow talk them out of being interested in us and leave us alone so that we could leave.

I began telling the lions that in a soft voice. Turning away after a few minutes, they headed across the field in another direction.

The dream ended.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

0

A Dream of Dancing without Music

There’s so little of this dream, but the image weighs on me. 

I’m in a dark, small club, dancing in with a group of strangers. Strobe lights and spotlights sometimes illuminate the crowd. Although I’m tired and sweaty, I’m having fun.

Then, I’m surprised to realize that I can’t hear any music. Everyone is still dancing. I’m still dancing. “Does anyone hear any music?” I ask.

No one pays me any attention. I can hear everyone’s feet thumping and shuffling. Nobody is talking or laughing or anything. None make eye contact with me; many have their eyes closed or their heads bowed.

Turning, I look for a band or a DJ. Not seeing either, I hunt for music system speakers. What’s weird is how everyone seems to be moving to the same beat. Most have their arms over their head, giving me an impression that I’m in the middle of a sea of arms. They’re generally younger people, say, their early twenties to early thirties. Multiple races are present, though most are pale skinned in this light. I peer at them, hunting for clues of headphones or a Bluetooth. Seeing neither, I say, “Does anyone hear any music? I don’t hear any music.”

I’m beginning to suspect that it’s just me that doesn’t hear the music. It amuses and frightens me; I can’t hear music, but I’m still dancing.

I stop dancing, because, why should I keep dancing? I remember seeing a movie being filmed that was like this, with people dancing without music, with the music applied later. I wondered if that was what was happening. I looked for cameras or some clue but again, no clues emerged.

I feel the dance floor shaking. Looking down, I’m surprised. It looks like we’re dancing on a wooden deck. I wonder if we’re on a boat or ship.

The dream ends.

 

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑