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.

A World War I Dream

I was a young US Army officer. I knew that WWI had ended a year or more before. As a lieutenant, I was strangely working alone. I’d come upon the wreckage of a country road that curved and went up and down a hill. I thought, if anyone is to use this road for any purpose, they’ll not be able, because it’s in a horrible state. The asphalt was torn up and debris littered the path, hindering any sort of swift passage. I took it upon myself to fix it, ordering others to bring me different types of materials and directing them to clear things away. When the materials were brought to me, I’d throw it on the ground, then jump on it to break it up, shuffle it into place with my shoes, and stamp it down. It was a remarkably effective process. I quickly had a flat, clear road. Both aspects pleased and astonished me.

A young woman, who was an Army captain, but who resembled my real life wife as a young woman, came along and inquired about what I was doing. I was almost finished by then. Seeing her, I was instantly smitten; I could see my feelings were reciprocated. Weirdly, she was dressed in gray sweat clothes, but I knew she was an Army captain. Affecting modesty, I bragged that I was fixing and improving the road for future use, suitably impressing her that I’d made that choice but that I was also doing it so well. A general officer and his staff came along in a jeep. They stopped to admire my work. The general asked, who was responsible. I claimed credit. He made a little speech about intelligent and motivated young men like myself being the country’s future. Then they drove off.

In a strange detour, the dream changed perspective. My dream camera focused first on a small crab in shallow water. I knew from watching it that it had become infected with something. My dream camera then showed a young woman in black clothing and back open-toe sandals come down. She stepped into the water. The infected crab crept into her shoe.

The dream perspective changed back to me. I was watching that young woman. She was now walking on the road that I’d fixed. I said to others with me, “She’s ill. We need to help her before it’s too late.” She collapsed, unconscious, at that moment. We rushed to her. As I bent to help her, I yelled at others to call for help. No one moved at first. I demanded more insistently that one of them call 911. He began looking around for a phone. With increasing exasperation, I told him to use his cell phone. He finally pulled it out and called 911. Help was already arriving, but the woman was dead and blue. Standing, I told the others, this is a warning, that we need to be vigilant because an infection is spreading.

Dream end.

Another Mask Dream

Anyone need a dream? I had a surfeit of them last night. Convoluted and crazy. Too many to sit and remember, write, and analyze them. It would have taken hours that I don’t have. I instead stayed with one making the largest impression.

I can’t say where I was. Couldn’t make sense of it. In one part I was driving in a car with my wife. Darkness fell suddenly. The headlights didn’t go on as expected. It wasn’t a familiar car. Brown or tan sedan reminiscent of the old Chrysler K cars of the early 1980s, Lee Iacocca’s brain child. I started scrambling to find the headlight controls while verbalizing this to my spouse. Meanwhile, the ride changed from smooth to rough and bouncy. I immediately exclaimed, “We’re off the road. We need to find the road.” Seeing a clear space that could be it, thinking I’d simply veered off, I jerked the wheel left toward the opening.

We went over a hill through heavier bush and woods. Not the road! But, weirdly, POV changed; I could see the car from outside ourselves and the car, and saw that we were heading for an abandoned, weeded asphalt parking lot at the bottom of the hill. While it wasn’t where we wanted to go, it was good enough for now because I could also see that it was separated from the road we wanted by a small median strip. We could get to the parking lot, cross the strip, then drive to our destination, which I could also see in the gloomy dusk.

Now we’re in a room of some sort where we’re to wait. Narrow beds with disheveled blankets and sheets. Mine had cats burrowing through the covers as they played. A woman coming by said, “Yes, some of them have cats. Many don’t.” Okay. I asked her what to expect. She replied, “Find the script, read it, and wait.”

What? I found dog-eared and torn papers stapled together. I began reading, not sure what to expect nor why I was doing it, and thinking, that’s how life is. Meanwhile, the cats were feisty. I thought they hungry. I went about finding food for them. I found food but then couldn’t find the cats. That raised concerns about them.

Then — not sure why — I decided to fashion a mask for myself out of paper towels. I pinched out two holes for eyes and held them over my face. The white paper towels were raggedly torn. I began searching for some way to fasten them around my head but then I saw one of the cats go through.

Then, they demanded I read. Who? Why, it was the director. They’re auditioning people, trying to fill roles. Pick up one of the scripts and read. I did while holding the mask up around my face. The director loved it. Don’t practice; don’t change. Just walk forward, pick up scripts, and read them when you’re told. WTH. I was confused but decided I’d go along with it. I discovered two young actors had been cast as Romeo and Juliet. I was reading other parts. Then they would do their roles. Oh. I tossed the mask aside, feeling that it was a hindrance. A woman rushed up and told me, “No, no, the director liked that raw touch. He thought it was unusual and different and wants you to keep holding the mask as you read.”

So I went forward, holding up my mask, reading scripts when, seeing cats, and trying to feed them.

Dream end.

Friday’s Theme Music

As I slipped from dreams back into my life, this song was there. Don’t know why; it wasn’t featured in any dream (that I can remember) and I don’t recall hearing it yesterday. Maybe something about going somewhere, other than walks through the hills or a drive through town to check the situation (or the traditional office-bathroom-kitchen-office round trip) slipped the song into my consciousness.

But here it is, “Old Town Road” by Lil Nax X, 2018.

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.

The Heart-Attack Dream

It began with me in bed, at night. Pain was rushing through me. I couldn’t see nor hear correctly. I thought, I’m having a heart attack.

No one else seemed present. The heart attack would come and go in waves. I tried calling for help but couldn’t. I decided that I’d work through it by thinking of what I was feeling and experiencing, and then countering those things with my mind. That seemed to work, as the pain faded and the heart attack passed.

The lights came on. A large spider, I’d say two feet tall, was to my left. I acknowledged its presence and left the room.

I’d survived, I decided. Outside the bedroom, in another room, were my wife, a few friends, and a dead cousin. As I looked around, familiarization flowed in. I knew where I was. We need to go home, I announced to the rest. They talked about this, objecting, how are we to do that?

But, I judged, the weather isn’t bad, so I’m walking. It’s only a few miles and it won’t take long.

They didn’t believe that I was serious. Shrugging them off, I left. My wife and a few others joined me.

The road was a rough, one-lane, dirt and gravel road that rose, fell, and wound through sparsely populated, wooded countryside. As we went, we’d see a car coming, call out, “Car,” and then step off the road until it passed. Impatient to continue my journey, I announced that I’m running.

At that point, I realize that I had a foot injury and had been limping. I thought, I’ll have to push myself through my foot’s pain and stiffness. Behind me, the others said, “He’s not serious, he’s not going to run.” But I started running, gritting my teeth against my pain. Soon I found a stride.

The others started running behind me, but I was well ahead. Seeing the road, I’d call, “Car,” as a warning to them, and step aside until the car had passed us all, and then resume running.

I reached home. Uncles were there. They offered me wine, but it was white wine and I turned them down. Dad arrived with a girlfriend. He offered me some white wine, but I turned him down. I wanted some wine, though. I was getting ready to go somewhere.

Passing into another room, I saw Dad’s girlfriend asleep in the living room. I went into the adjacent kitchen. I found a bottle of white wine but kept looking for red wine. As I didn’t find anything except white wine I thought, maybe I will drink some.

Dad came in. While talking to me, he produced a bottle of white wine in a light green bottle in a clear plastic bag, like a gallon-storage bag, and showed it to me. It’d been opened, but had a cork put back into place. “That’s what you’re drinking?” I asked. When he said that he was, and offered me some, I answered, “Well, pour me a glass, I guess.”

As he did, his girlfriend awoke in the other room. She came in and introduced herself to me, which annoyed Dad. We talked for a few minutes. Then we talked about cars, and who was using what car.

The dream ended.

The View Dream

For this dream’s beginning, I was with a large gathering for a dinner in a big banquet room. The dinner wasn’t formal although the round tables were all covered with white table cloths, china, crystal glasses, and silverware. Everyone was dressed informally in jeans or slacks. I knew many people there as friends. I wasn’t staying, though.

Just before leaving, I happened to look out a window. We were in either a high-building or a place on a high hill. I don’t know which. I chanced to go by a window. The window provided a gorgeous panoramic view of a bay with bridges. Calm indigo waters filled the bay under a perfect azure sky.

I raised the blinds to more fully see the scene, and then called to some of my friends, telling them to come see the view. Several came. We looked out on the sun-blessed world and remarked on the tranquil, peaceful curative that the scene provided.

I left.

I headed out across some fills and found myself traveling in parallel to a column of brawny men. Their garb suggested something out of an age one thousand years before. From what I gathered, they were planning some picnic or festival. Sometimes they chanted.

Encountering a man walking the other way, he asked me about where we were going, and why I wasn’t dressed like the rest. I told him with a smile that I was part of that group and that I didn’t know who they were or where they were going. I smiled as I said this, and then waved at the men, who seemed to have been following my conversation with the stranger. As I finished speaking, I said, “This is my turn,” and turned onto a path that ran perpendicular to their travels.

I followed the run through a field of short, tarnished gold grasses and came to an asphalt street. It was far from the intersection where you’re supposed to cross. A few others were talking about crossing the road but were unsure how to go about it. They began resigning themselves to going to the intersection so they could safely and legally cross.

I, though, decided that I’d chance it there. No vehicles were coming and the visibility was good, so why not? After crossing and reaching the other shoulder, I noticed that others had crossed with me. Then I saw a pair of police officers walking down the shoulder toward me. I suspected that they were going to ticket me or make a big deal about what I’d done but I decided that I didn’t care. I knew where I was going and didn’t want to be delayed.

Finding another sketchy path, I continued on my through another field of tarnished golden grasses.

The dream ended.

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