Tag: Dreams

Flash Dreams

These seem like a sequence of scenes from one long but fragmented dream.

I began with two young people, twentyish, male and female. Seated at a long folding table in a smallish room, definitely a temporary set up, the kind encountered at conventions and conferences for registration, they were going through papers I’d provided them about my visions, values, and dreams. Pens in hands, talking — and sometimes snickering — they made checkmarks and wrote notes. They seemed to be evaluating the for entrance somewhere, part of a process that I expected. I was the only one in there. I had other places to go and things to do.

A mother with her young children entered from a back door. Setting down a model of a dragon, she complained to me about the assignment’s difficulty. I loved her dragon, though, praising it for its blue and purple colors, telling her that she’d done a great job. As she departed, another mother — who turned out to be one of my younger sisters, G — entered with several children, She also had a dragon model, green and blue, and complained about the assignment’s level of difficulty. I complimented her on the model and her skill and imagination. As she was unmoved, I gave a pep talk, telling her that it was a stretch assignment to unleash her potential because I knew how creative, imaginative, and intelligent she was.

Next, I was out the door, walking with my wife, heading toward some sort of gathering. We were walking on a large asphalt area and our destination was a long way off. Scattered knots and small groups of other people were seen making their way, too. I roughly knew the way and told my wife that we needed to hurry. A coal-skinned squat man, very broad, walking with a cane, approached with a wide grin. Wearing a pork pie hat, he was dressed in black pants and coat, a green vest, and a white tee shirt, and was several inches shorter than me.

He asked if we were going to the event. I replied yes and he told me that he knew shortcuts which he would show us. That sounded fine. he took us on a diagonal course. My wife and I struggled to keep up with him. We had to go over a fence which was about knee high. Our guide went without problem, leaving me to wonder how he’d done it as I slowed, hopped the fence, and caught my pants cuff. As I finally freed myself, I saw a chain across an entry which was lower and realized he must have used that.

Another dream flash took over. I needed to change clothes. Uncertain about what to where, I had a wide selection of choices hanging on hangers on racks available. I tried and removed several. Everything looked good on me but was worried about being dressed not just for the event, where I was being honored, but also the weather. My wife joined me to hurry me along.

I moved into another dream segment. I was in a busy room. People filled tiers of desks and tables. Many consulted one another or spoke on phones.

I was standing toward the center. I realized that I knew something which they didn’t and began trying to explain. A large projection of a Google map sprawled across the room’s front. Taking an air mouse, I began scrolling up the map, telling everyone that what they needed was further north. The mouse and scrolling proved sensitive and difficult to manage. I kept scrolling up too far and then overcorrecting. People stopped paying attention as I worked the map and tried to find the place I wanted. I knew that it was far up north. I saw the Arctic Circle and told myself, it’s not that far, but then I saw an entire new land projected.

As I took in mountains, rivers, seas, and lakes, astonishment filled me. How did I never know about that area? I thought, too, it must be freezing cold up there, given how cold it could become in the northern continental United States. These places I was seeing were hundreds, maybe thousands of miles further north. But using the mouse, I found I could click on places and revealed information such as latitude and longitude. Displayed in negative numbers, they didn’t make sense. I began to guess that they were imaginary numbers, and thought, maybe it’s an imaginary land. Clicking more, I discovered the temperatures. Some said 20, 25, 30, and then I realized that these temperatures in Centigrade. They were warm places.

Dream end.

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Friday’s Theme Music

A blizzard of dreams dominates my awakening consciousness. Friday’s sun is an amorphous presence hiding behind a pile of gray clouds. It’s June 17, 2022 but the air bares closer semblance to late April. Rain fell last night; more expected today. Our temp is 54 F and we look for a high in the mid-sixties. Sunrise came upon us at 5:33 AM and the sun’s turn will end at 8:50 PM.

We’re past June’s midpoint and bearing down on the year’s middle like a bull in Pamplona chasing a man darting in front of him.

The dreams left a song in my morning mental music stream. Or I’m blaming the dreams. Who knows what quantum entanglement and confused neurons really deposited the song? The song is “White Flag” by Dido out of (wait – let me look that up), yes, almost two decades ago 2003. Probably just word association between things witnessed in the dream and the song’s lyrics, things about giving up and surrendering.

Stay positive, etc. Coffee is in order, I think. Hope your Friday comes with a large order of positive energy and good experiences. Fingers crossed, you know? Here’s the tune. Cheers

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The House Price Dream

A place was being sold, some sort of home. I’m not sure if it was a house, townhouse, condominium, etc. People were discussing how to price. Two young, grinning boys, brothers, were present, listening, watching me as this was being debated. I didn’t know anyone there or why I was present. Everyone wanted to put the place on the market at a low-ball price because it had been the scene of horrific crimes which the boys did.

I advocated, “No, don’t make it a low price, make it a high price. There’s been a lot of notoriety about what the boys did. It’s well-publicized. Don’t try to hide it. Take advantage of it being a famous place to push the price up.”

More debate followed. I claimed, “People who are aware of the crime who are turned off by it aren’t going to come anyway. So the low price doesn’t affect them. People interested in the crime will come, and if they’re real interested, they’re going to try to buy. Don’t make it easy on them. This is a jewel; you don’t low ball a jewel.”

They decided that made sense. I had nothing to do with the house, other than knowing its history and arguing for a high price. As we finished up and I left the place, my sister-in-law arrived. She said she was going to bid on the place. That surprised me. I asked, “Really?”

She answered. “Sure. Seems like it’d be fun.”

Dream end.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

This is Sunday. We’ve awoken to that fact. Other information filters in. May 15, 2022. Almost half of May numbered as the past. Almost half of 2022 joining the historic ranks. Sunrise, 5:50 AM, was bright and strong. There to see it, because Papi stayed up and outside to see it, and called me to come see it. Temperature is 56 F. Anticipated high is around 77 F. Sunset: 8:25 PM.

The neurons floated multiple songs through the morning mental music stream, creating, for a while, a morning mental music stream medley. Yeah, I went there. Most of these songs were from the late 1970s. Putting it together, I think they go well with the age I was in a dream and put it all down to wishful thinking about when, where, and was.

The medley eventually thinned. Linda Ronstadt rose with “Blue Bayou” from 1977 and took over the MMMS. I once won a small wager with this song. About ten years after it’d been a hit for Linda, a young guy was talking about the song. I realized that he attributed it to her as the original artist and told him that Roy Orbison had it as a hit when I was a child. He was flabbergasted. We went through several other songs that night, including, “Knocking on Heaven’s Door”, which he ascribed to Guns ‘n Roses, and “A Hazy Shade of Winter” ‘by’ the Bangles.

I love that one line from the song, “If I could only see that familiar sunrise through sleepy eyes, how happy I’d be.”

Okay, coffee time. Stay positive and test negative. Be on guard, but chill. Here’s the music. Cheers

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A Long Melancholy Dream

AKA, the Four Cars Dream

It could have been known as the Big House Dream, as well. Although I was about forty years old at the dream’s beginning, I was twenty at the end.

It began with a search for car keys.

I was looking for the keys for a car I owned when I was twenty, a signal orange Porsche 914. The drawer where I kept the keys was shallow and white. Another set of keys, for my RX-7, was in there, but where were the Porsche keys?

I began going through the house looking. The house was huge, rambling, and one story, with many low stone arches. Every room was empty except for that first one, which had a desk. This was my house; I’d newly acquired it.

Unable to find the keys, I ambled around the house until I stopped in one long and wide, all-white room. One piece of white furniture, a sort of stand turned upside down, was in it. Finding a can of black paint, I painted the stand. Finding other cans, I spray-painted the walls purple. As I finished up, a large, rotund, bald man with huge, muscular arms came in.

“There you are,” he said. “I need you to come with me.” He looked around at the painted room. “Nice job.”

I knew he was my minder and followed him. I was thirty by now. My minder told me that there was someone to see me. My minder showed me to the door.

Walking up a residential street, I encountered my old friend, Jeff. I haven’t seen or heard from him in RL in almost forty years. Jeff told me he had exciting news. He’d inherited a classic Porsche 911 from a friend. The guy had completely rebuilt it, and the car was pristine. Truly impressed, I congratulated Jeff. Jeff then said that he had a car for me and gave me the keys to a BMW. He said that he didn’t need it and he wanted me to have it.

I was flattered. I tried to turn it down. Jeff insisted. I accepted the keys to the car. The car wasn’t around. Jeff was going to have it shipped to me.

We parted. He went back up a hill, and I returned to my house.

I was now in my mid-twenties, wearing a brown leather jacket which I remember owning from RL. My minder was there, along with a girl who I knew to be sixteen. Her dark brown hair, like the color of oak, was long and shiny, framing a petite oval face. She smiled often, shyly. She wore jeans and a white button-down men’s shirt. She never said her name that I heard.

The minder left us. We chatted, with her peppering me with questions. Hearing a noise, I went out through one of the larger stone arches. It was late dusk, and the light was low. This arch opened to a path that entered the woods. I thought I heard and saw people down the path. It was my property, so I was concerned about what they were doing. As I walked, I picked up several flat stones to throw, if needed, as protection.

The girl had stayed back. After I returned, she questioned me about what was going on. I told her about the people and stood ready with the rocks. Young people came down the path, but they turned away from my house and property and kept going. Not needing my rocks, I set them down. With the BMW keys in hand from Jeff, I returned to the search for my Porsche car keys. This time I found them in the drawer where I’d first search. There was nothing else in the drawer. I thought that they must not have been there before, and someone must have placed them there after I’d searched.

I was now twenty. The minder returned. He said that Jeff wanted to see me. I went to the front door. Appearing very old, sad, and tired, Jeff told me that he’d decided to give me the Porsche which he inherited. I tried talking him out of it. He told me that he drove the car and saw himself in it, and that he looked ridiculous. The car didn’t fit him, but he believed it would suit me. Handing me the keys, he left.

I went outside of my house and sat against one of its stone walls. The girl came out and asked what was wrong. I told her that I was thinking about my friends and how I missed them. She noticed the keys and inquired after them. I told them that they were to four cars which I owned, and then described them. I could see each one. My Porsche was an orange 1974 model; the BMW was also a 1974 model. The green 911 Jeff gave me was a 1971 model year, and the blue Mazda was a 1981, which I had bought. She was most impressed when I mentioned the BMW, calling it a Bimmer. She said she really liked them. I answered, “No, you don’t understand, this is a vintage car from the 1970s, a white 2002. You’ve probably never seen one. They stopped making them before you were born.” I remembered then that I’d owned a BMW 2002 in RL and became confused: was I dreaming or remembering?

More dream followed about taking a trip with other people, but this is where I’ll stop.

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The Magic Models Dream

The dream began with me in a small town with two friends, a male and female. We were all youngish, I’d guess in our twenties. An attack by Russian aircraft on another place in the world was underway. I had three models of the aircraft involved in my hands. These models were about a foot long but made of plastic. Somehow, using magic and the models, we were able to down the five jets. We knew this by watching it in a shallow puddle of water. Although the three of us were involved, the other two credited me with doing it.

Afterward, as we walked around the small town, with its parks and wide, quiet streets, news of what we’d done spread. People kept showing up out of nowhere asking for details and then asking if we could do it again. I was certain that we could. My female friend arrived with a video camera and told me that she wanted to interview me. Then she would broadcast it and put it on the net. I agreed to that, and was ready with the models, but small matters kept delaying us from beginning the interview.

She said that we would do it later and walked off after I agreed. I walked around more with the models and came to a fast moving, swollen creek. While watching the water rising up over rocks and crashing down, I grew aware that I could see other scenes happening in it. They mesmerized me. Leaning in to see things more clearly, I lost one of the models in the water. After some frantic searching for it, I spotted it floating down the creek and rushed after it.

With a little effort, I captured the model as it passed under a bridge. I realized then that it was time for me to meet my friend for the interview. As I arrived there, people approached me and told me that news crews from CBS and NBC were there to interview me. Someone else told me someone wanted to have me on their television show but I couldn’t understand the television show.

I saw my friend set up with the camera by a pavilion under a wide oak tree. I told everyone that I had to do my interview with her first and then walked in her direction.

Dream end.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Sunshine prevails today. Tuesday’s sky can be described as mostly sunny or mostly cloudy. Both seem correct. While sunshine washes over everything in the valley, large clouds brood like waiting bears, shadowing large swaths of land.

Yes, it’s May 3, 2022. Our high is gonna be 64 F, they say, about ten degrees higher than it is at the mo’. The sunrise cometh at 6:01AM. The other end of the daylight session ends at 8:13 PM. Tomorrow, the weather ‘they’ say, we’ll see 79 F.

After a series of dark, messy, and splashy dreams, the neurons summoned a Nine Inch Nails song. Released in 2006, “Every Day Is Exactly the Same”, some of the lyrics go, “Every day is exactly the same.” Which sometimes is how my life feels, outside of writing. Feeding cats and taking care of them, house and yard work, the eternally aggravating question of “What’s for dinner,” dressing and eating, reading news, doing errands, reading books. Yet, in many ways, that’s how it was when working and in the military, too. The world is built on bureaucracies and routines. Sometimes, though, that tedium gets me. It’s funny, but I know this song because one of the QA guys who worked for me when I managed a tech support group introduced it to me. He no longer worked for me by that time, but sent me an email after the song came out, telling me about it, and mentioning, “It reminded me of what you used to say.” I still laugh about that.

Stay positive — yeah, who am I to talk? Test negative, etc. Here we go, music and coffee. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

The time was checked.

4:14 AM.

About two hours before sunrise.

I listened for noises and heard nothing. One cat was asleep by my head. My wife was asleep. I don’t know the other cat’s whereabouts. He’s still young and likes the night life. I blamed him for whatever noise I’d heard and settled back toward sleep mode, thinking about the dreams I’d been experiencing. Up top was the cow puzzle dream. The neurons began playing “The Midnight Special” by CCR.

Hi. Today is Friday, April 29, 2022. Looks like the perpetual battle between clouds and sunshine is entering another rain. The sun made a bold move, striding in at 6:09 AM, but the clouds have lined up some towering heavies to the northwest. Our temperature is 42 F, but it’s a damp one with the remains of yesterday’s watery hours lending its effect. We expect 65 F as our high before the sun leaves our stage at 8:08 PM.

Thinking about using “The Midnight Special” as today’s theme music, I searched and confirmed that I used it last year on May 10. In the post, I noted that my kidney stone had passed.

I decided to do something other than “The Midnight Special” as today’s theme song. The neurons responded with Shawn Mullins and “California”, a song my spouse actively dislikes. The song was never released as a single that I know but I’ve heard it periodically and enjoy its details about the people and their lives – driving a Trans Am, listening to Bob Dylan, etc., and also enjoy the guitar and organ play, as well as Shawn’s voice. There’s a Tom Petty vibe to Mullins’ music, especially “California”. So here we are.

Stay positive, and so on, for another day, or perhaps another month or year, or more. Coffee is speaking up in the other room. I’m going to go see what it wants. Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Sounds have come tapping. Cue “It’s Raining Again” by Supertramp.

Light rain sporadically spits down on this Wednesday, the 27th of April, 2022. The temperature is at 44 F and a high of 60 is possible, they say. They also said it wouldn’t rain today.

Sunset is expected at 8:06 PM while sunrise came and went at 6:12 AM.

I have guitarist Joe Walsh with “Rocky Mountain Way” from 1973 cranking it out in the morning mental music stream. This one came out during a dream. I’d been startled awake by a cat checking to see if I was alive (“No, I was just sleeping, damn it”). The dream featured mountains, as my dreams frequently do. When I thought about those, the neurons hit the play button. Out came Walsh.

I’ve always enjoyed the song, playing it too often and too loud in my youth. It was a regular staple in high school art class as well as my part of my vinyl rotation at home and on 8 tracks in the car. Never got to see Walsh live in concert, except when he was with the Eagles on the Hell Freezes Over tour in 1994. The way I wrote that, it sounds like he died, but he’s still alive. I just checked. At least, that’s what the net claims.

Stay positive, test negative, etc. Can’t believe a Republican called for Dr. Fauci to face a shooting squad and be executed. Further, that said Republican was cheered by other Republicans. That party has lost its ever-lovin’ collective mind.

Here’s the music. If you guessed that I’m now going for coffee, give yourself a gold star. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Friday has arrived. Around the nation, in work stations and meetings, cars and on Zoom, I hear people smiling and telling one another, “Thank God it’s Friday.” TGIF. For shift workers, it might not be Friday. And wait staff, hospitals, and others associated with jobs whose tasks and activities don’t recognize a standard work week, they’re probably muttering, “Is it Friday?” Then they think how the weekend might spin. It’s a four-day weekend in the U.S. For, this is Good Friday and the First Day of Passover. Sunday is Easter. Many schools are closed for today and Monday. The change will do some folks some good. Your life might vary. Let’s hope some shooter somewhere doesn’t decided to make this a more memorable weekend.

Today is April 15, 2022. Hey, your taxes done? Sunrise was another glorious show, a sharp dawning of light piercing the sky as the mountains were cleared at 6:30 AM. Temperatures are at 37 F outside of my house on the valley wall. Sundown will take over at 7:52 PM. Our high should be in the fifties again. Another winter weather advisory is in effect, for snow over 2500, 2-6 inches. A lot of snow for April, but appreciated, given our dry winter and drought conditions.

My dreams featured waterfalls. Naturally, the neurons are playing “Waterfalls” by TLC (1995) in the morning mental music stream. (In fairness to the neurons, they first started with the theme song to the Mouseketeers.) 1995 was the year I retired from the USAF, and I remember the song playing during my commute in my final months, wondering if I was chasing waterfalls. It worked out well, though, for me. The AIDS epidemic of the era was behind the song’s lyrics, something I later learned. While I took it as a song about doubt, it’s more of a song of worry, pain, and desperation, and a parent trying to protect their child. It’s much different from my dreams, where I remember realizing I was standing in a waterfall, looking over its edge and thinking, “Neat. What power and beauty.” In the manner of dreams, the waterfall infused me with a sense of strength, and I walked away feeling invigorated.

Stay positive, etc. Hope your weekend goes well, whether it begins today or another day. I’m off for coffee. Here’s the song. Cheers

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