Tag: black

The Hair Dream

I was the new guy in a small group of males. Basically smartasses and lower class with leanings toward crime and goofing off, I don’t know how I met them but was hanging around with them. They kept discounting me and making fun of me. I decided changes were needed and thought the way to do that was with my hair. So off I went to get dreadlocks.

A stylist eagerly did as I asked. I emerged with long black dreadlocks when I’d had brown hair before, with the crown being literally a crown of short dreads.

I went back and joined the group at a short track where a car race was scheduled to take place. All were surprised and taken back. One or two made fun of me for it. Then we split up. Most headed in to watch the race but one other and I stayed back, sort of watching the group’s belongings in a small corner by a counter. Catching my image in a mirror, I was horrified. “I look terrible,” I said. “Ridiculous. What was I thinking?”

The other guy, a short, white almost bald fellow said, “Well, I admire what you did. Took balls. I respect that.”

“Really? But it looks like crap.”

“Yes, but you did something.”

I met a woman who wanted to go into the track but wasn’t certain how to go about it. I asked where she wanted to go in there. “By turn two,” she answered. “Come on,” I said, “I’ll take you there.”

I took her in through the crowd. As I did, a young black woman paused to tell me with a wide smile, “I really like your hair.”

“Thanks,” I answered, pleased, amused. Showing the woman to turn two, I moved back through the crowd to the outside. Another young black woman accosted me, saying, “Nice hair.”

I encountered a white female friend as I left the race track. “What did you do to your hair?” she asked.

“I know,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m going to see if it can be fixed.” But I was thinking, it’ll probably need to be cut. Then it’ll take a long time to grow back. While this went through my head, a young black woman said, “I’m sorry but I overheard what you said. I hope you don’t change your hair. I think it looks really good on you.”

Dream end.

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The Indicators Dream

I don’t know what age I was supposed to be in this dream. I felt younger, maybe in my early middle age. Anyway, I arrived at this cluttered, jumbled location. Busy with people, we were being asked to make choices. Like many others that I overheard and witnessed, I didn’t understand exactly what was going on. Acting on haste, I checked some small pails.

The pails were plastic and different colors, like red, blue, yellow, green. They reminded me of pails which children use in a sandbox or at the beach.

In these pails were some sort of small black squares. Each had tiny white letters and numbers but were mostly blank. Nobody seemed very sure about what they were or what we were supposed to do with them, but everyone was certain that we were supposed to take some. I wasn’t sure how many to take but grabbed eight. Then, following the flow of people doing who had also made their choices, I went along the line until we came to a long messy table, one of many. Above the table, three slender, black metal slats ran parallel to the table. Many already had multiple black squares attached to them. With observation and trial and error, I discovered the metal squares were magnetic and that we were supposed to attach them to the slats. Okay, I did that.

When I did, the black squares became alive with information. Watching, I realized that they were displaying information about the people who put them up, like, for me, as example. Each black square was giving out vital signs about different body functions, is how it first appeared. Most accepted that but I saw that some were just displaying dates, but not in the usual format. Pressing the dated squares showed me events from that day. As I did that, I began understanding that the white letters and numbers gave information about what was embedded and contained codes and patterns.

Assimilating this, I began excitedly talking about my realizations. Other people were disinterested, dismissing the squares. But I grasped that the squares’ functions were actually based on their relationship and placement with each other. Calling them indicators, I started telling people, “Don’t you see? If you can go back and find the right indicators for yourself, you can know your full history. Not only that, but it can also show the future for each of us.”

Moving the squares around showed me that I was right. Pressing back against the crowd, I tried to go back to the buckets to look for better black squares.

Dream end.

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The 503 Dream

I was with two others. We were on a black and white train. Very long but familiar, I never knew the train’s entirety but understood that it was a bullet train.

Coming into a station, I covertly leaped from the train. My goal was door 503. Reaching it, I slipped in, grabbed a syringe, and hurried back out. Outside, I looked around for authorities. With none seen, I tossed the syringe to my compatriot. With the syringe caught, he went into a train compartment. I knew he was administering something from the syringe. Impatiently, I urged him, hurry, worrying about being discovered, concerned about the train leaving the station.

My other companion came out with the syringe. He threw it back to me. I caught it and returned it to room 503, then managed to jump onto the train as it began moving. I thought I saw a soldier or police agent watching me. When I turned for a better look, they were gone.

Back in the train, my companions and I found each other and went to a private place to speak. Ensuring we were alone, one companion, younger, but white like me, with like dark, curly hair, gave an update. The shot had helped. More is still needed. I related that I thought I saw someone spying on me, and that worried me. After discussing risks, we concluded that we’d still need to get more for our friend. We’d need to be more careful, more watchful.

The train pulled into the next stop. One of my friends and I stepped off the train. The police presence was immense. We gave one another furtive, questioning looks. With time ticking, I decided to risk getting the syringe with the realization that we might not be able to get it back into the room. If that happened, the loss could be discovered. That would probably result in greater vigilance and security. All that troubled me.

I hurried away, looking for room 503. Just as I found it, I spotted a police officer following. Pretending to go elsewhere, I stole away to watch and wait for an opening. When the officer turned away, I hustled to 503. Breaking in, I grabbed a syringe and ran back out.

My companion was not in sight. Police were. I hid the syringe and fretted. At last I saw one of the others. With a glance around, I tossed the syringe to him.

He fumbled the catch. I gasped in horror, worries skyrocketing through me. He managed to find and pick up the syringe and then scurried away. The train issued a warning sound that it was time to go.

Dream end

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The Power Dream

I wasn’t sure how to label this dream.

I was in bed. Tucker was beside me. He’d awakened me with a couple claw taps to my hand. This is what he does when he wants me to pet and scratch him at night. I obliged him.

It was 4:50 AM. Dim light was skirting in and around the blinds but the light had an unusual, lemon-green hue. It seemed pixelated with black static. That black static seemed to be closing in on me like a malevolent hand reaching out to seize me.

I wanted to cower under the covers but I felt like I had to get up and check a noise heard elsewhere in the house. Clenching my jaw, I forced myself out of bed.

The black immediately gained mass, pouncing on me like a swarm of angry black insects. I could feel its anger like a growing breeze. Waving it off, I said in my head, “I’m not afraid, you can’t stop me.” I then amended that, “Okay, I am afraid but I’m still not going to let you stop me.”

The black drew down on me and slammed my head like a hurricane wind. I held fast, resisting being pushed back or knocked over. After some seconds of this, I pushed forward toward the door. The black burst apart and vanished.

I woke up. I was partly out of my bed. Surprise held me; “That was a dream?” It seemed so real and intense that I stood there, half out of bed, remembering and thinking before wondering, had there really been a noise? I went to check.

Just in case.

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The Car & Contest Dream

I dreamed I had a very fancy sportscar. I knew it was quite unique, exotic, and expensive. It seemed dark in color but I never saw its color or make, and know little about its shape other than some brief glimpses. It appeared low and svelte with organic curves, along the lines of sports racers in the mid-sixties.

My wife and I were traveling in it. Along our way, we paused to submit an entry in a contest. Everyone was participating in it. My wife took care of that entry, going in and providing them some sample of clever engineering that we’d either found or created. Coming back to the car, she told me there was another opportunity to come back to give them an entry at three that afternoon. We agreed we would return and drove on.

We drove to our destination without incident. Then, with sunset chasing us, we headed back the other way. First we stopped to submit another entry. Since my wife did the first one, I volunteered to go in and take care of this one.

Inside this well-lit, austere place, it was chaos. I found a counter where a rotund white man with a thin mustache was supposed to be handling the entries. He looked like he was in over his head. I brought our device to him for registering and entry. The thing, whatever it was, was round, small, and lightweight, easily residing on my open palm. I gave it to him with the paperwork and watched to see what happened, wanting reassurances we were properly vetted. He did some things but seemed to lose focus halfway through. I made it a point to pester him to ensure our entry had been processed. Reassuring me, he showed me a pullback lid from a small metal can, the sort you’d find on a pet food offering. I was horrified and protested, but then decided, the hell with it, I had to go.

I returned to my car but didn’t see my wife. Picking it up, I carried it out of a crowd of people and around a corner, and set it down with a thump. Still looking for my wife and not finding her, I reasoned that she must have gone off and would be back in a moment. But she rapped on the car window from inside the car; she’d been sitting there the entire time and was indignant about the way I’d just picked up the car and carried it because it’d been unsettling for her.

That out of the way, we and five other couples began driving down a curving multilane highway into the gathering dusk. I could hear the people talking in their cars. Many were discussing my car and me. I gently accelerated, easily outdistancing them, though I knew they remained behind me and could still hear them talking.

By now, it was a moonless and starless black night. I reached a point where the road went up a vertical grade. The car handled it with no problem, but at the top was a ceiling. Reaching it, I stopped the car and left it. I was at the juncture between a white ceiling and white wall with a blue and black pattern. There was a crawlspace access. I knew from my journey there that I had to pick up the car and carry it through this crawlspace to the other side. I knew I’d done it before but I was a little more tired this time.

Nevertheless, I scaled the wall and entered the crawlspace. The other cars had arrived and were queued to follow me. Reaching back, I picked up the car with my wife inside it. As I began wedging myself and my vehicle through the narrow space, I thought, this is stupid, and stopped.

There must be a better way, I thought.

Dream end.

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The Power Dream

This was a dream where green dominated. I mean, it seemed like it was being viewed through night vision goggles and turning it all green.

So I was supposed to be taking some position of power. But on my way to accept it, I discovered a nefarious plot to replace me as soon as I accepted it. Following some dream plotting that I don’t understand, the position was vacant. I’d been selected to fill it. But once I filled it, I could be removed and another put into place. Apparently that involved a prophecy. I understood it all when I was in the dream but the plot evades me now that I’m awake.

Essentially, I discovered the plot early. What shocked me was that one of my sisters was involved in it. I vowed not to take the office because once I did and she removed me, she was installing a tyrant. That, I felt, wouldn’t be good for the world. So, added by others, I set off on a series of escape and evasion adventures. Many times, sis’s forces would have me partially surrounded. I’d feigned going in one direction and gallop in another, or I’d dress someone to look like me and then sneak out while the decoy distracted sis’s forces. This happened about a dozen times with variations in location and settings.

During this, sis would often be in a heavy fur coat, sometimes white but it would be black once in a while. She was being driven around in an old black Rolls Royce.

Meanwhile, I was mostly on foot. The settings were usually woods or fields with fences, and felt like a maze, but I discovered or created shortcuts, sometimes tunneling, and sometimes scaling walls to escape. People, mostly strangers, were usually helping me.

Besides all of that, my sister would sometimes call out to me to surrender. She would insist that I was misunderstanding. I’d shout back to her about how disappointed I was by what she was doing, and frequently mocked her inability to capture me. I also pointed out that even if she captured me, I would never accept the office, so she may as well give up.

In the end, I found myself on the crest of a green ridge, part of a mountain range, standing, looking down and back. Below was my sister’s Rolls and her forces, looking lost about where I was.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: black whimsy

Woo hoo – Happy November Eve Day!

Yes, it is too a thing. People dress up in costumes in many places. Children in costumes often scurry from house to house being given candy and pumpkins are curved and lit up to welcome November. November is the eleventh month in our calendar, and eleven is a power number, so, to summon good energy and dismiss dark forces, we celebrate November Eve. November 1st is more seriously and somberly feted on the actual day, as the forces of the universe are frequently nursing cosmic headaches. If you’ve never had one of those, it’s like lightning and thunder.

BTW, November finds its name from the Latin, novem, which means nine. It’s comfortably fitting for the modern era that our eleventh month was originally the ninth month, and we kept that name.

Well, if this is November Eve, then this is October 31, 2023, the last day of the tenth month of this year, and also Tuesday.

Talking with folks the other day — I was more listening than speaking — many were mourning the current state of crap in regard to politics, various wars, inflation and the cost of existing in the US, gun violence and mass murder — you know, just an average day in 2023 — when The Neurons woke up. Sniffing out the general tone of comments and agreements, they injected “Black” into my mental music stream, where it still plays in the morning mental music stream (Trademark dark) today.

“Black” by Pearl Jam (from 1991) is a love song. Starts gently and then rises to a wail of emotional pain as the narrator/vocalist acknowledges that he and the woman he loves can’t find the balance to live together. He’s saying goodbye to her in his mind, wishing her the best and reconciling fate even as he rails against the moment.

So I can see why Der Neurons played “Black”: it’s an assessment of the present and sadness for the future and what will be. Actually, despite its status as a love song, it’s an accurate theme song for many people in the US and beyond who, as our singer does, ends up wailing, “Why,” and “Why can’t it be?”

The particular version is accoustic, from MTV Unplugged. Hope you enjoy it on this November Eve, where it’s 37 F in Ashlandia and the November Eve parade, colloquially called the Halloween Parade, is average. Gonna spark up into the upper sixties before the sunshine cuts its engagement with our town in the valley.

Be strong, don’t worry, be happy, if you can. Now I’m gonna smack my brain with a heavy douse of black coffee. Get it stirring. Here’s the video. Hope you enjoy it and follow my logic for making this song today’s theme music.

Cheers

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Five Dreams, A Few Thoughts

Five dreams are remembered this morning. Takes a while to process them. I usually do this in bed, eyes closed, pulling out their sequences. What normally happens is that I have a dream and wake up with it in mind, process it, and return to sleep. Then I dream again and repeat the process. Later, I sit and freehand the dreams. Sometimes, when the dreams become larger, more involved and remembered, I type them up. And sometimes I post that result, usually without any insights I acquired, just presenting the raw dream. In this instance, because there were five sharply remembered dreams, I just wanted to share intriguing aspects of two.

I was with my father. It was Christmas. His third wife was there, too. I’d brought twelve gifts meant for my cousins. Several of those cousins are dead. I knew that in the dream. When I showed Dad what I’d bought for who, I actually said, “Even though he died,” when I introduced their gifts. Dad laughed at that and I responded, “They’re dead but they still deserve a gift.”

Gifts included beer, pastries, pasta, and books. I explained to Dad when describing the gifts, showing them to him, why I selected each present. Dad seemed particularly surprised by the beer, which was a German Pilsner with a flippy top, which were common in Germany when I lived there.

What happened next is that I went off for a bit, returning to find that Dad gave away several of the presents to the people because he forgot buy them. So instead of a gift for my cousin, Jeff, for example, Dad gave it to his nephew, Jeff. That left me speechless. In Dad’s usual style, he laughed off my protests and explained that he just said it was from both of us so what difference does it make? The people received the gift, which is the intent of the gift being bought.

I didn’t fully buy into Dad’s position but decided yes, the person getting the gift was most important, so why be an asshole about it?

He later asked me if I had other gifts to give people, because he didn’t buy gifts for others but he thought he should receive a gift. I laughed at him, mocking his lack of preparation and planning, but took him to a white chest freezer and began pulling things out. He asked me why I put them into the freezer. I answered, “Ask your wife. She gets it.”

The other dream had a segment involving a vase. I was in a dim warehouse sort of building, metal, with high, dull lights. Items were stacked on shelves, creating a labyrinth, and lots of shadowy places.

White and tall, with flowers and dragons painted on it, the vase had several cutouts. I noticed the vase and remarked on its beauty. When I did that, one of vase’s cutouts yawned wider and issued a black cloud. I jumped back, pushing the others with me back to avoid it. We discussed, “What is that?” Several, including me, believed it to be poison. We wanted to get out of there fast but there was only one narrow path out. The vase was up on a shelf at head level along the path.

We needed to pass the vase to leave, we found, because we found every other way blocked. Two attempts were made to race past the vase but it moved each time, growing larger and growling at us. Finding a hammer, I attempted to attack it. The vase counter attacked, growling more and growing larger again, issuing more scary black gas. The vase’s cutouts now had teeth.

Someone said, “You have to get rid of that vase.”

“I know,” I answered. Swinging the hammer, I knocked the vase onto the floor. It rolled toward us in a rush. I hurdled it, but it was trapping others. I rushed the vase. It spun around me. Jumping back, I dropped the hammer. Teeth bared and roaring, the vase charged me. Dodging it, I pulled a shelf partially over, stopping it from getting me. I spotted an old black, portable television on a shelf. Grabbing the television, I lifted it over my head and slammed it down on the vase. The television and vase both broke. Enough of the television remained for me to hit it again with the television.

The vase pieces were trying to come back together. Someone threw the hammer to me. It bounced on the cement floor. I seized it and hit the larger pieces of the vase. The vase hissed out wisps of the black cloud. I started kicking its pieces around, shouting at the others to run past it and escape. After the last of them had gotten past, I picked up the largest piece of vase, threw it across the warehouse, turned and ran.

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Three Dreams

Seduction, destruction, confusion, and security. Short summaries of sharply remembered dreams where I felt these things.

My first remembered dream from last night’s slumbering had me being seduced. This woman and I were traveling with others. All of us then got in bed together. She turned to me and told me that she wanted to have sex with me and moved her hands along my body. She said, she’d thought about it, and I deserved it. I was eager and ready but, hello, there are other people in the bed. She said that she’d spoken with them and that they’d agreed. As she said that, the other three left the bed. I kissed her and she reciprocated.

Dream censored.

Second in the dream line was about destruction being wrought by an evil baby head.

I found myself in an empty old Victorian style home. Going through the rooms, I discovered a huge black trunk in a room upstairs by a window. I opened it. Line with gray inside, its only contents was a smaller black bag which reminded me of a bowling ball bag. As soon as I opened the bag, a baby’s head floated out. White but mottled, it had no body, a constant leer, and thin hair, and was alive. Dread emanated from it, soaking me. I was immediately dispirited. I quickly found it had master telepathic control of others and telekinesis as it threw boulders with its mind and created slaves of other people. Understanding that it had no good intentions, I managed to get behind it while it wasn’t paying attention and get it into the trunk. Slamming the lid shut, I locked it but realized that I could still hear it in my head. I realized it had been in that other black bag to block its thoughts and powers.

I fled, trying to get distance from the baby head, driving along old and narrow country roads, going up a mountain. I soon found myself lost with a black spirit. The baby’s voice was diminished but I felt its presence. Leaving the car to look around and figure out where I was, I decided that I needed to go back and destroy the baby’s head.

End of dream.

Finally, I had a dream about a wealthy old man. White, he was quite old and thin, and favored a monocle, black silk top hat, and a black walking cane topped with a diamond. Suited in a black suit with morning coat, he wore a white bow tie and traveled about in an all-black ‘car’. This car was essentially several rooms, like a narrow black land yacht with a design out of the 1930s. As said, extremely wealthy, he was in charge of everything, he declared, and he didn’t any changes. Large, serious expression men in black suits provided constant security.

I, a young man, was with him in this cluttered and narrow beast of a car. He’d chosen me to write his biography, so I was there to listen to him tell his life story and give me his wisdom so that I could compile it all. Like him, I was dressed in a white shirt and black suit, but with a black tie. His aide, an older man, was dressed as I was.

I was enjoying myself as others brought me tea and pastries while we drove around the city in the mechanical beast. Observing everyone, distraction set in, and I entertained myself by figuring out how the old man could be abducted, and then created a story concept around it. Pleased, I shared that with the old man.

Well, he was outraged, shouting, “Balderdash, that could never happen.” Then he stormed out of that section and into the car’s rear. I knew that he was upset because I’d pointed out a security vulnerability. The elderly aide chastised me in gentle, polite tones for upsetting the old man, who the aide revered. I explained to the aide how I was right, showing and demonstrating the car’s vulnerability on which I based my story. His expression told me that he knew I was right. He went off to comfort his boss.

Dream end.

Yes, I see how black dominates these dreams, as does power and desire.

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A Mom Dream

I was visiting Mom’s place. She was younger than RL, more aligned with the mom known throughout most of my adulthood.

I was younger, but my sisters were their current agents. Their children were present, too, contemporary as adults to me.

Visiting Mom’s place was a process of exploring because she’d moved. On the bottom floor, décor in shades of gray, black, and white dominated. The building was long and wide. I went outside to check out her backyard. I discovered trimmed trees organized in rows. I wondered if they were fruit trees and looked for evidence of that but found nothing conclusive. While I was looking, I inadvertently broke off one branch. Embarrassed, I didn’t want to be caught and looked around for somewhere to hide the branch. Looking up, I saw Mom watching me and smiling from a window above.

I went back in. As I walked through this floor, I realized it wasn’t a house but an apartment building, and I was in the lobby. My sisters and her children arrived, and then their children’s friends. We started having drinks. Many of the children were talking about the Lockheed C5 Galaxy, a huge transport plane. A dream news story said only two or three remained. Some foreign government was quoted as saying that they wanted the aircraft but the U.S. wouldn’t give them up. Some of the children suggested that if they were the other government, they would steal them. I went into a pedantic explanation about security and how that would be difficult because C5s were labeled ‘Priority A’. I suggested that if the C5s were stolen, the U.S. would probably shoot them down so that others couldn’t have them.

We went outside, to the building’s front after this conversation, where the party expanded, becoming louder, concerning me about disturbing the building’s residents. People proposed going to other places. I said that I would need to change.

Then Mom called down to me on the intercom. I answered it. She was asking me if I could go get something for her, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying because her voice was very weak through the intercom. Others came over to help interpret what Mom asked for. I thought she was saying that she wanted some pills like the ones I’d gotten for her before, and that they were available at a store or locker in the building’s rear, but I couldn’t fully comprehend what she meant.

That’s where the dream ended.  

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