Tag: Dream

The Brown Man Dream

Dream activity is on the rise again. They’re mostly satisfying and comforting.

One very short dream stands out, though. It’s so short, it could be a fifteen second commercial break. Other features also stand out.

  1. It took place in my current home.
  2. I had it twice in one night.
  3. It was the same both times.
  4. I woke from it both times.

Some qualifying reasoning crowds in.

  1. I may have dreamed it more frequently and not remember it.
  2. It may have been different but my consciousness fashioned it to be the same.

The dream

My living room back door to the patio was open. A tall, young, broad brown man was walking in front of me. We were leaving the house. Although not recognized from life (qualifying it as this life, existence, dimension, plane, realm, etc.), I knew him.

Troubled by a speech impediment, he was talking but I was struggling to understand him. I said, “What?”

Stopping, he answered with exasperation, “I told you already.” He was now on my patio.

Whirling, he added with more force, “I told you already. You’re not listening, you’re not listening.” 

Each time, I awoke thinking, “What am I missing?”

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The Stolen Baby Dream

I was at a white counter buying a ticket for a train trip. As I waited at the counter, I saw a baby. Wrapped up in blue blankets and cap, it looked like a burrito and was only the size of a burrito.

The station was crowded and busy. Having procured my ticket, I realized no one was looking after the baby, so I took him and got on the train.

The baby was sleeping. Getting off at a stop, I set the baby down and ate lunch. The baby awoke, so I fed him. I was thinking about what I’d done. Guilt and shame seized me. What had I done? What did I do? What was I thinking? I needed to return the baby to his family.

But the baby was gone.

I didn’t understand how that was possible. A short, frantic search found him a few feet away in the grass. I gave him water and he went to sleep.

Although I didn’t want to get into trouble, I got onto the train and went back, arriving at the station as a search for the child was underway. I went to the station agent, a black woman. “I found this baby,” I said.

She was happy, telling me they’d be looking for him. I raced away before I could be questioned.

I wanted to buy a bag of candy. Cutting back though the train station, I heard the story about me finding and returning the baby. Avoiding everyone possible, I purchase a large bag of red licorice and left.

Rain was falling and it was dark. Cutting across the traffic, I went up a steep street toward a university. Buses were parked in the streets, blocking the way. Someone asked me where I was going. I replied, “I need to find a place to stop.” He answered, “You can’t park here. This is for school buses.”

Stopping, I fabricated signs with the name of a school on it. Then I found an empty space and placed the signs in it to reserve the space. The same man as before said, “You’re with a school?”

“Yes,” I lied without remorse. I was doing what I needed to do.

 

1

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.”

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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.

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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.

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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

 

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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.

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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.

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The Travel Dream

Such a brief, sharp dream.

My wife and I were outside. Fat, wet snow fell, covered the ground, and blotted our vision. We were dressed for cold, so we were protected, and we were walking somewhere. A man said, “Hey, would you like some airline tickets?”

We laughed and scoffed. “Flying? Now? No, thanks.”

The man insisted, “It’s cheap and safe,” reassurances that amused me.

“Sure.”

He seemed to miss my sarcasm and doubt. “Good. Where do you want to go? You can go anywhere for just three hundred and four dollars.”

“Anywhere? Can I go to Pittsburgh for that?”

“Yes, Pittsburgh, here you are.” He held out two tickets.

“Wait, is that three oh four each? Is it round trip?”

“Yes, yes.”

I was confused. “We don’t want to go to Pittsburgh. It’ll be cold there. It’ll be just like here.”

The man said, “You can go anywhere you want.”

My wife replied, “We want somewhere warm.”

“Yes, through there, those tickets will take you.”

Through where, we were asking him, ourselves, and one another. Then we glided out. A  broad, flat green land spread out at our feet. Spokes of waterways divided the land into wedges. A metropolis served as a hub. A golden haze bathed it all.

“Where are we?” my wife and I asked.

The man answered from behind us, “Wherever you want to be.”

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