Dreams of the Times

First, in a response to the current situation, I dreamed that I opened a cupboard in the house and found an opened package of toilet paper. Toiler paper, as you probably know, is one of the most sought commodities in America in the age of the coronavirus. In the dream, I found an opened twelve pack and laughed as I saw it, remembering that we’d had so many rolls of toilet paper that we’d put some in another cupboard. One roll was gone. I told my wife I’d found it and then put it in the proper cupboard, which, in the dream, accurately reflected our current TPSIT. That whole thing amused me; we’d not stocked additional toilet paper. Fascinating how my mind seemed to gloam onto the tp as emblematic of current thinking and trends.

The next dream segment remembered featured me in a car, which is one of my standard dream features (I dream of being in a car, finding a car, or driving a car a great deal). Sometimes in this dream, I was driving, but sometimes I was a passenger. This changed without reasoning that I could discern. It never bothered me in the dream, and I didn’t think about the other drivers. It didn’t seem to matter to me. I was preoccupied with other things, mostly music.

I had a tiny flesh-colored plug in me. It fit into my upper arm by my shoulder, where you’d typically get a vaccine. I could access it through my clothes. Post-dreaming reflection showed that I was completely oblivious to doing this in the dream; it was normal.

The plug had a tiny flesh-colored line, thin as a spider web, attached to it. Removing the plug from my arm, I’d stick it in my ear and hear music. This process absorbed me. After a while, I began understanding that the music was originating somewhere outside of my body. My body was picking it up as if it was an antenna and then playing it in my head.

Then I figured out (with a lot of surprise) that the music that I was attracting and playing was being amplified out to millions of people. As I assimilated this in the dream, I understood that it was part of a position that I’d been given as some sort of keeper. I completely understood it and it made sense in the dream.

I rotated this responsibility with another man. Older than me, he went through the same process of discovering as I’d endured. As he did, I watched him. Seeing his reaction, I guessed what was going through his head and then told him about what I thought it was. He nodded, beginning to understand what I was saying.

That took place in a car. It seemed like an huge car. Dozens of people were in the car with me, but there was so much room, I could easily walk around it, going from window to window or seat to seat. I’d been driving, but now I was somewhere toward the back of the car when we stopped for gas.

When we stopped for gas, we discovered pieces had fallen off the car. I began looking for and finding irregular chunks of metal. Applying them to the car, I started repairing it. I told others what I was doing so they could do it, too. They ignored me, so I worked alone, finding metal and fixing the car.

I ended up going off by myself in another car. I was driving now, taking a small car up a winding mountain highway. Night was falling. Missing a curve, the car crashed through the white guardrail and fell thousands of feet down into a dark bay.

The car hit the water and immediately dropped toward the bottom, passing quickly through fathoms of water. Unfazed by what was happening, even feeling a little amused, I exited the car and swam up through the light grey-green water until I broke the surface.

It was night. The combined events, crashing and swimming, had taken me a long way from where I’d gone off the road. Using searchlights, others were looking for me way over in another area. Bobbing around in the dark water, I waved my arms and called them, but no one saw or heard. Giving that up, I swam a long distance to the shore and left the water.

They were still looking for me. I could see them but they didn’t know where I was. Exasperated and drenched, I began walking along a road toward them. I guesstimated them to be miles away. Accepting that, I increased my pace.

The dream ended.

Less than Six Degrees

They — you know who they are — are always talking about how closely we’re connected. Here’s close for you. You cough from your chest, spewing out air, phlegm, and sputum, and at the same time, you fart, and a little urine squirts out of your urethra.

That’s connected.

A Writing Class Dream

Three classes were taking place in a large, modern building that reminded me of an egg because it had curved, white ceilings. I looked like I was twenty years old in this dream (I’m sixty-two and a half), and was in the advanced class. We’d finished our lessons. I was pleased by everything that’d happened. Now, I was basically waiting to leave and employ my new knowledge.

For some reason, I couldn’t leave just yet, so I went around exploring the other classes. Not too large, one class seemed to be people in their mid-teens. Walking among them, I noticed that they were writing letters, using pens. All of them had small computers with strange, springy raspberry, lemon, and lime-colored thin wires that dangled down. Checking, I found that they weren’t connected to anything. I asked one if they needed to be connected. She said, “Don’t worry, they’ll come and do it in a little while.”

 I went on. The next class was larger and filled with children. They were waiting for someone to give them their notebooks. Seeing a stack of notebooks, I passed them out to them, and then decided to join them. Taking one notebook, I opened it and saw that it’d already been written in. Every page had sentences, paragraphs, descriptions, or stories.

I checked other notebooks. They were written in, too. I said, “These notebooks are all written in.”

A child beside me nodded. “Yes, you just write some more. Just write around them.”

I was thinking that over when another child said, “Everything is already written but that shouldn’t stop you from writing.”

The dream ended.

The Revelations Dream

Once again, dreams thundered in like tornadoes, leaving much to contemplate in their wake. The most prominent dream was about unknown talents and changes, in my mind.

  1. I could see things that others couldn’t see, including the future.
  2. While I was demonstrating this to a friend, I used a wrinkled, old Montgomery Ward Christmas catalog to show her.

Many people were present in my dream. Most were strangers, but friends and family were present. We seemed to be in a large room in the upper floors of a tall building. Windows were on the two outer walls. This vantage let us look out across a cityscape. Crisscrossing white cement roads connect business parks surrounded by manicured green spaces reminiscent of places that I worked at in San Mateo, Palo Alto, and Foster City, California.

Inside, we were looking at long gray counters located under the windows. Strolling along, we were looking at these. To me, they looked blank. I don’t know what others saw, but looking at the gray counters absorbed them. Seeing an orange button on the table, I pushed it. Silver metal boxes arose at regular intervals on the counters. They had controls on top. Feeling bold, I examined the controls of one. They seemed simple. Although I didn’t know what they did, I pushed one.

The light changed, revealing other objects around us. Turning to another box, I pressed another button and exposed another aspect of our hidden reality. My thought was, these machines help us see the world. I was excited and wanted to talk to others, but when I did, I discovered that they didn’t see the boxes or their influence.

Taking my mother by her shoulder, I pointed to where the boxes were. When I did that, the boxes became visible to her. Likewise, when I guided her to the two boxes that I’d used and pointed out their influence, she could now see them. Understanding that I seemed to be a connection, I went to others and showed them. Excited conversation spread as more and more people were engaged. I pressed more buttons. The lights shifted into something dark that revealed bright strips of existence and threads running from the people to the sky. I couldn’t see where the threads ended, but I thought that the strings went to stars.

My friend came in. A college professor who teaches network security and cyber-forensics, I told her what had happened. She was astonished. As I told her about this, I realized that since I’d been exposed to the machines’ influence, I could now see these things without the machines.

To prove that to her, I found an old Montgomery Ward Christmas catalog. Using it, I told her, I can see the future. Then I knew, it’s not the machines or the catalog, but using them encouraged me to see.

I was astounded. Even as understanding seeped into me and epiphanies bloomed, I grasped that if I touched some of the exposed objects, I could peel away more limitations. Touching the closest thread, which was connected to my friend, I saw her future flash into existence like a giant movie screen. Gazing up into it with amazement, she and I said, “Wow.”

The dream ended.

The Connection Dream

My streak of dreams continue. I remember many. They generally flow into some semblance of meaning for me. I’ve had nothing disturbing. All are interpreted as useful, healthy, and reassuring dreams.

One of last night’s dreams was reassuring, but also amused me. I fell asleep in the office recliner after watching “The Friends of Eddie Coyle.” Tucker and Quinn joined me, sleeping on my lap and my legs. The lights were off, but the television was on. Once the movie ended, though, the Roku went into screen saver mode, displaying the date and time.

I dreamed I was being told, “Stay there. You’re okay. Don’t worry. Stay there. A connection needs to be completed.”

Drifting awake, I stared at the television. Anxiety trickled through my mind. I had the sense I was supposed to be doing something, and I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing.

But the dream voice said, “You’re okay. Stay there. A connection needs to be completed.”

Hearing that pushed questions along about what connections were being made. Some sort of update must be taking place, I concluded.

That satisfied my anxieties. Calmed, I returned to sleep. A little later, the dream voice said, “The connections are done. You’re good to go.” Waking up, I got up and went to bed. Awakening this morning, and thinking about it, I wish I knew more about the connections being made.

The Connection

Thousands of small, black ants were swarming over the kitchen’s granite counter-top. Looking at his tanned forearm, he began crushing ants under his thumbs.

Yes, there was no doubt; each time he killed an ant, a black spot appeared on his arm. There seemed to be more and more ants, too.

Discounting what he was seeing, he kept killing ants. His arms blackened, and then his hands. He refused to stop even when he felt tingling on his face and an itchiness on his back and legs.

He would get rid of the little bastards.

He would win.

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