Tag: obstacles

End of World Dreams

I’m covering two of my three end of world dreams from last night. First, these dreams had very dark settings. Most of the first one took place underground or at night.

Another aspect that fascinated me about the dreams was how it combined elements of my military career with my IBM employment. Trippy mind work going on there. And now, the dreams.

I was working for IBM and it wasn’t going well. Exhausted from working and trying to save our division, many of us were sleeping at work, going twenty-four hours to try to save it. But we’d run out of time and knew the division was going to be shut down. Worse, and more surreally, we realized that the world was ending. How and why it was ending, the dream never covered. But this was something I knew, and was continually in the back of my dream mind.

To start, I’d been sleeping on the floor in my work office. It’s totally dark. I have a few private possessions and clothing, and that’s it. Voices awaken me. I listen and recognize our division director dismally describing the situation: world ending, division ending, shutting down. We were hanging on to our jobs because it gave us some hope that something could be done to stop the end of the world. Now he’s saying, we failed.

His comments stir me into a restless fit. I pace, trying to brainstorm about what we can do. Crazy ideas emerge but nothing sensible. I want to go talk to him about it, so I dress and head out, tracking him down.

The office area is built on a rock-strewn coastline. I clamber over rocks to find the director. He vaguely knows me. I throw out some ideas and he thanks me but tells me, they’ve already shot down those ideas because we don’t have the resources. It’s all dark doom and gloom.

I wander into another section and find an unused office. Turns out, the IBM offices are built on top of an old military base. The office used to be a missile control center. Finding a key, I put it into a dusty receptacle and turn it.

From elsewhere, I hear alarmed chatter that there are lights on: a missile is firing. I’m horrified to discover that I’ve turned a key to launch a nuclear missile. I’m also shocked; apparently, this one was overlooked when the nukes were removed. I frantically attempt to turn back the key but fail. Finding the director and other people, I try to reassure them that the nuke won’t detonate because it wasn’t armed, but I’m not sure. I’m pretty certain that high explosive are in the warhead and will detonate. I speculate that could cause the nuke to go off.

I run out to watch it. The missile launches into the dark sky. Huge ocean waves are crashing into the buildings, tearing them down. Shouting warnings to others, I climb the slippery rocks and escape.

Time slips past. I’m now surviving with three other men in the remaining office complex. We walk around setting small fires to keep warm and looking for food. We’ve found a cache, so we’re not too worried. I’ve also found a radio and keep tuning it, attempting to pick up radio stations and get some news. I worry about some of the fires they’ve set because they’ve put them under wall calendars and posters, which are catching fire.

“So?” Others ask. “What’s going to happen? We’ll burn down the building? It’s the end of the world.” Although I understand what they’re saying, I’m thinking that they have a bad attitude about surviving.

We drift out of the building to find other survivors. We end up in an underground tunnel in a yellow taxi. I’m driving. The tunnel is dully lit with dim yellow lights. To proceed further, we need to stop at a toll gate. There are three lines. Two lines are hugely backed up. The third has no one waiting. We pull up to the gate for the third ine. I get out to talk to the gate attendant, a short, swarthy guy, and ask him, “Can we use this gate? We don’t have any money — “

He interrupts me by showing me a finger, wait. As this happens, a blond woman in a green skirt comes up and reminds the gate attendant that the gate we’re at is to only be used by VIPs and emergency personnel. She leaves and he turns to me and says, “Now you can.” I understand him to mean we can use it because she’s gone. I thank him and asks, “But how much does it cost?” He replies, “No charge.”

I awaken and think all that through. Falling back asleep, I have another dream about the end of the world. It’s burning, and I know it’s ending.

Another dream begins, and I’m with the other three men again. We’re just leaving the toll gate and enter a building. In there, we find some other people and plentiful supplies, including alcohol. We basically decide to drink and get drunk. Why not? The world is ending.

We’re sitting around drinking and hear the outer door open. Investigating, we find four woman entering. They tell us they were looking for someone to party with since the world is ending. We tell them that we have alcohol and invite them to join us. They agree, and men and women pair off.

My companion is a short, chubby woman. She and I begin making out but she becomes morose about the of the world and starts crying. I try consoling her with hugs and some positive statements but she goes on about how so many people are gone and it’ll all be over soon, which is why she and her friends were looking for someone to party with. She and I go back to the main room, where the others are also arriving. All have had the same situation, that the women are sad and crying. They live.

Dream end. I awoke and realized with surprise that it was part of the first dream because of the background situation, my companions, and the setting.

0

The 95 Dream

My wife I were with others in a tall white office building. The rest of the people were strangers. We were there for testing but kept segregated in different rooms, so I had no idea how many people were present.

The way the testing went is we’d be called into the testing room in groups of six at a time. The test administrator was a tall white woman, brunette, in a lab coat, carrying a clip board, wearing glasses, a scientist stereotype. Several younger people, mostly men in their early twenties, assisted her.

Of the actual testing, I know nothing. In the dream, I’d see the door, enter, and then return. That’s it.

While milling around after the fourth test, rumors began spreading about grades. Someone, they said, scored 95. 95 was unheard of. The usual recorded high was in the upper eighties, and several were in that zone. Another person then came to me as I circulated, waiting for the next round, and said, “You’re the one who scored a 95.”

I dismissed that as rumor, pleased, but also sure that it wasn’t me with that score. I didn’t want to get my hopes up only to be let down.

Then the final two test blocks were finished and testing was completed and the head verified I’d scored a 95 and lauded me for the achievement. finishing by presenting me with a trophy.

Well, cool, I liked that but disliked all the attention. With the whole thing over, the staff began cleaning up. I rushed to use the restroom before leaving but one of the male assistants, apparently realizing what I wanted to do, rushed ahead and blocked restrooms so they couldn’t be moved. I thought was a dick move and confronted him. He and I argued. I ended by shaking my head and saying, “Your organization rewards me because of what I achieved, and then you go and pull this shit. Just shows how little that trophy and recognition really means.”

Dream end

2

A Traveling Dream

The beginning was chaotic. My wife and I were younger people. She had a girlfriend staying with us, no one knew from RL. We also had a small brown puppy on a red leash, a very smart dog.

She and her friend were trying to start a business. As I wasn’t involved, the details are scant to me. I was busy fixing things around the house, working in bathroom pipes around the sink and tub, then dashing over to work on the computer, helping my wife and her friend with their computer and the printer. All the time, the puppy follows me around and I talk to you. My wife will sometimes say, “Oh, no, where is the puppy,” because the puppy isn’t where she left him. “Relax,” I answer, “he’s right here beside me.”

Wife makes a tentative decision. Someone is interested in their business but they have to go meet them, which is a five-hour drive away. Will I take her? We jockey back and forth in the conversation, we me explaining that I don’t want to stay overnight because we have the puppy and there are things I must do, followed up by asking her, are you staying the night? How long will you be there?

She’s anxious with excitement, indecisive and scattered, frustrating me. I finally force the issue: I’ll drive you up and then return tonight. I’ll be driving ten hours. A neighbor comes and takes the puppy.

Then we’re in a car on a highway. I’m driving. I’m in the right-hand land of this divided highway, behind a car. The car is slowing. There’s a motorcycle in the left-hand lane but they’re several hundred yards back. I want to change lanes but the car in front of me is suddenly slowing. Checking my driver-side mirror, I discover that the motorcycle has caught up. I accelerate a little, create space, and change lanes.

That lane is now also slowing by a tremendous amount. What’s going on? I wonder, trying to see what’s ahead. First, we’re no longer on concrete; we’re on a soft dirt path. There are construction signs. The road is being worked on. Everyone, including us, is on foot, following one another like we’re cars.

We’re slowing. Ahead is a vertical pipe. We must climb up that. I’m carrying all of my wife’s luggage plus some long, heavy metal thing. I realize that I’d need to climb without using my hands. My wife and her friend anxiously watch, waiting for my decision about what I’ll do.

I realize, nobody else is carrying anything. They left it in their vehicle. Why didn’t we do that? I intuit that the construction people will transport the cars up to the other end of the pipe. This infuriates me; why do we need to leave our car at all? Why can’t they just transport the cars with us in it?

“Come on,” I tell the others. “We’re going back to the car.” I figure that there must be another way.

We’re back in the car. I drive fast in the opposite direction. There’s a detour sign on my left. I turn the car that way even though my wife wants to stop and think it over. We’re suddenly at our destination. “I knew it,” I crow, pleased.

2

Another Kind of Flying Dream

This was a different take on flying dreams. It’s actually a segment of a large dream sequence but this part had me smiling.

So the dream heavily featured my father- and mother-in-law. Both are deceased with my MIL passing a few years ago and FIL passing in 1991, shortly after his retirement at age 65. I had a good relationship with both.

They were young in this dream and their physiques reflected their younger selves. In this dream, there was a point where they announced to my wife and I, “We’re no longer driving. We’re going to fly everywhere from now on.”

O-kaaayyy. Their announcement left their daughter and I with multiple questions. How were they planning to do this? Jump on airplanes? And what did they mean when they said —

Well, even as we were wondering about these and other aspects, my in-laws produced am airplane. Think a small Cessna. Piper Cub. Single prop. High wings. Red and white. It was clear now that they intended to fly themselves. Which defied expectations. Neither had a pilot’s license when alive. Neither had even flown many times.

But, okay. There was an announcement then that we were going to the grocery store and they were flying us. My wife and I are in the airplane with them. We’re still discussing what’s planned and how this is possible but we take off. But I’m challenging my wife, how are they going to take us to a store? So many obstacles exist, right?

My wife and I are in the back. But we’re seated backwards, facing the rear. I turn around to see what’s going on and realize, they’re going to fly down the street. Below the overpass. Past the buildings, trees, and wires.

Holy shit!

The aircraft’s rotation, yaw, and pitch are all wrong. At one point, we’re between a set of telephone wires with the aircraft nose pointing straight up. My wife and I are giddy with laughter about the affair. But they’re calm and casual up front. The in-laws land the aircraft in the store parking lot. And park us between cars.

Segment end.

0

A WV Dream

Dreamed I was in West Virginia last night. An interesting twist to recent dream trends. I lived in WV for three years. My father had moved there as part of a business deal. I went with him, graduating high school there before joining the military back in 1974. I’ve been back a few times since. Dad no longer lives there.

In this dream, I was back as a guest, and was about twenty years old. Apparently some show that I created was going into production. It somehow involved WV. So I was there, soaking up local flavor. I was also mindful that many wanted to be part of the show and were trying to impress me. Much of what was to transpire would be recorded by a film crew following me around. But the crew wasn’t always around.

It was late afternoon on what felt and seemed like an early fall day, sunny with clouds. A young man wanted to take me around to show me the real WV. I was skeptical and nervous, actually a bit fearful, but I wanted this experience. So I said, “Okay, lead on.” Eagerly he drove me to another location in a dilapidated, smoking car. He talked through a broad grin and heavy accent the entire time. Was taking me to meet others and have a drink. Having parked, we were required to walk down a hill to a house. Three other young men, my host’s friends, met us. They seemed dubious and suspicious of me. Then, apparently realizing who I was, became eager to impress me. First, I was poured some clear drink that was a potent local vintage alcohol. They downed their shots and urged me to drink mine. I did with a wince, enduring a blaze down my gullet.

Next we walked to another location. They were all talking as we went. We came to an enclosure. My senses and thinking were overwhelmed by then. The enclosure looked muddy. Fenced in, it apparently presented some threat. They discussed it; I didn’t understand. One explained to me, “Carefully edge around this.” They were showing me where to go. Up along a wall. Over a small fence. Along another wall. They would go another way as a distraction.

I climbed over the cyclone fence. Footing is uneven. The space is narrow. Began going along a crumbling stone wall. The fall would only be five or six feet but they’d warned me not to fall. Suddenly, yelling. A woman is yelling at me. A barking dog races over the enclosure at me. The others, who were supposed to be creating the diversion, are up at the top, urging me to hurry. I speed up. The dog runs up and starts nipping at my legs. I get over the final fence. We all laugh about this.

We pack into a small car for a short drive. The experience has relieved tension. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. We’re more amicable and trusting. We take a short drive along a winding back road. Arrive at another’s place. Not sure if it’s a bar or a home. About twenty people are there, waiting to meet me. I’m walked around, introduced to people. They’re eyeing me, asking questions about the project. I’m laughing, comfortable and happy as I answer them.

Dream end

2

The C-130 Dream

It began with innocent travel planning with my wife and her family. One or her sisters and her daughter were there, but honestly, these folks changed throughout the dream.

First, we’d talked about where to go, details which I don’t remember. Then, we were trying to pile into a sky-blue station wagon. As there were so many people, this required some strategizing about how to pack the luggage and where everyone could sit. I was in charge.

Then, in an eye-blink, we were off, and then arrived at our next destination. This happened to be my military unit in Germany. We were there to arrange fight via a C-130 to cross the ocean.

First, though, we needed to coordinate with someone for support. Now, getting a little weird, I found a listing for a Major Ward. Major Ward was a U.S. Navy F-4 pilot, according to the listing in small, black, bold print. The problem there is that the Navy doesn’t own a major officer rank. That didn’t occur to me in the dream, and I contacted him via telephone for help.

After explaining that I needed clearance and refueling assistance, he curtly told me, “No. It’s a holiday.”

I said, “Okay, but I’m going to tell the higher powers that be that you declined to help because it’s a holiday.”

After a pause, Major Ward said, “Fine. I’m not happy, but I’ll do it.”

I then entered a series of delays trying to herd everyone together, get the crew going, filing flight plans, and getting launched. Discussions were undertaken about which of the three C-130s to take, 1819, 1822, or 1828. These are the real aircraft’s abbreviated tail numbers. With my patience strained, I was suddenly airborne in the C-130.

Looking out the windshield from the cockpit, I was flying over ocean. The sky ahead was darkening blue with dark clouds limned by the setting sun. Off to the right was a Navy aircraft carrier and another ship.

The flight was bumpy, and we were low. Wondering about the crew and pilots, I remembered different pilots from my assignment and knew none of them were flying the aircraft. Feeling surprised, I thought, am I the pilot?

I think I was. As I’m not a pilot, I worried about what was going to happen. As the aircraft was dipping and bouncing around, I also worried about being too close to the aircraft carrier and other ship, and basically commanded, “Pull up. Climb.” The aircraft did, but sluggishly. We passed those ships and flew on.

We arrived at a beautiful tropical destination on a bright and sunny day. From the water, it looked like the Caribbean. Excited, I followed the landing instructions. We ended up landing in the water about a hundred yards from the beach. Speaking with someone on the radio, I learned that this was because Major Ward had ordered it. He was behind these flawed landing instructions. I suspected he was being spiteful.

Going ashore and into the terminal, I met Major Ward, a square-jawed tall and broad white man with thick black hair. He said with a flippant air, that the landing site was an error, probably because it was a holiday. His pettiness amused me.

Returning to the aircraft, which was floating on the sea, bobbing with the waves, I decided I could take off by turning it into the wind and surfing across the water until I achieved the required air-speed. I executed my plan. The aircraft climbed and banked into the sky, carrying me on toward my destination.

The dream ended.

2

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑