Tag: traveling

A Flying Car Dream

To begin, I was a detective. Didn’t look much like RL me. Only commonalities were white and male. My dream detective had a florid face – pink as a carnation – on a square head with receding blonde hair. I seemed to be in my forties. Clean shaved, a nose bent by fights finished my facial ensemble.

I’d just solved a couple big cases. After receiving accolades, I headed to my flying car to go home. The flying car was a BMW and some sleek sedan or SUV variation – wasn’t given a good look at it. No need to because a flying car is normal and common, and this was my regular ride.

A few people needed a lift. I was heading generally their way so said I’d provide taxi service. They sat in the back. We headed out.

Even though it was a flying car, we followed surface roads and the same road rules now in effect. Traffic was end-of-workday heavy. Stopped at one traffic light leading to an Interstate maze, I was in the wrong lane. Knew I needed to get into the left-hand land for my destination. So I had to outrace the other three lanes of cars — which I did. But then, I found the car wasn’t following the road but drifting right. I took manual control of the car to combat it, then found it a greater problem than first thought. I announced to my passengers that I was having a little car trouble. I pushed buttons in, trying to make the car work right. The buttons were square and silver. They wouldn’t hold in as expected.

I talked to the car, telling it to fix itself. The problem was given a temporary solution after a few minutes (according to the car). That’d eaten into my time and mood, so I had a change of plans. I pulled over and got out. Taking a control, I told the car to take my companions to their destination, go get itself fixed, and then come back and pick me up. I then gently tossed the control into the air, and the car took off. I turned and began walking.

That segment ended. A young man, closely resembling my RL self, I was in an airport when I stopped to check email on my computer and play games to kill time. The computer didn’t work right. I sat down and took some of the computer apart. These were hollow brass cylinders, about one and a quarter inch in diameter and an inch tall, unlike anything I’d seen in a RL computer. They were threaded and reminded me of faucet components.

Putting the computer back together, I decided to leave them off, in case I needed to address the problem again, then packed up and headed for my flight. I went through turnstiles with others, then overheard a younger man talking about a computer game he’d enjoyed. I knew the game and asked him if he’d ever played another game.

I couldn’t recall the game’s name. It stumped me for a few. I remembered playing it when it was big in the late eighties to early nineties, and described it to him. Then the name came home: “Empire” by Interstellar.

The guy thanked me and went on. I found that my flight was delayed. I began wandering the airport. While doing that, I went back to where I’d fixed my computer. I discovered that I’d left the two brass pieces behind. Horrified at my oversight, I stuffed them into my bag, thankful that nobody had picked them up while wondering what others thought they were if they’d seen them.

The dream ended.

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The Sex Connection Dream

I started out with a petite dark-haired white woman. She and I were going around on inspections of odd places. Two stood out: a giant mailbox — I mean, it was huge, we were little people walking around inside it — and a large cement room with a single metal door. At each place, we answered questions on a piece of pape. At the end, I was given my results, which was on a large scroll. I had missed thirty-one out of thirty-one questions because my response required me to include something of the subject in my answer. For example, I was told in the dream, if the question was about toilet paper, my answer must have a piece of toilet paper attached to it.

Well, I thought that was stupid. Then I was angry. Then I blamed the woman I’d been with because I’d been following her example. Then I accepted that it was my own fault because I have free will and should have done better. Then I said screw that.

Next, another woman and I were about to enter a room. We knew hostile people were within. The small-statured woman — middle-aged, blonde, and white — was armed with a small machine gun. I picked up a double-barreled anti-aircraft gun. Normally this would be a problem because it’s a big, heavy weapon and I’m a small guy, but for the dream I was suddenly four times my normal size, dwarfing the little lady with me. I told her that I was tired of those people and if they attacked me, I would shoot and kill them. Then I asked her to hold the door open for me so I could go in.

She had trouble with the door. I hovered by her, making suggestions about turning the knob, pulling the door, and how to hold the door open while she still held onto the machine gun. We entered the room; it was empty.

I then left and heard about these six people who claimed to drink an elixir and then travel telepathically to have sex with people in another dimension. I encountered one woman who was part of the six. “So you’re real,” I said, “and you can really do this.” As she nodded and answered, “Yes,” I went on, “I’d heard about your group, but I thought you guys were all just crazy.”

She explained to several of us how it was done and what was involved, and that is, while they’re in a meditative state on this end, they each inhabit another person in another dimension (or maybe it was just in another time period — they weren’t sure) while the other had sex. They said the others were willing participants because the travelers’ presence enhanced the sexual experience.

I had a number of questions and put them to her, like, do the hosts definitely know they’re there, can you experience things from the others’ perspective, and can you control them?

She told me that the others knew of her presence. She could feel them when she started getting close to them, then see them as shadows, which then transformed into figures of white light. She knew that they could control them a little but had never pressed the issue. She and her group had taught the others about the elixir and meditation so both groups could have sex and transport themselves at the same time, amplifying the effect. Yeah, that didn’t make sense to me.

But I was intrigued. The dream got a little weird, because I could hear this woman talking to other people, but I had gone off and was following myself. From the dream perspective, I sometimes had a ‘split screen’ while I otherwise swapped perspectives between me and her.

She told the others that I was going to try and that I would succeed because she’d felt me awakening as she explained what they did. Hearing that, I found some elixir. I was leery of drinking it because I didn’t know what was in it. She explained that to the others. After that, I took a small sip. As soon as I did, I became aware of shadows moving nearby. I was surprised at how quick and easy it was.

Dream end.

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The Zeppelin Dream

Not referring to the great rock group Led Zeppelin, nor any cover group in this. We were traveling via zeppelins. I was with others but didn’t know any of them beyond their first names. I don’t know why we were traveling or where we were going. I knew it was a zeppelin because the dream actually had a scene of conversation in which it was discussed what the vessel was. Semi-rigid. Inflated. Airship. An enormous passenger compartment with plush red seats similar to a movie theater was available.

I had a mission. I was going to raise money for refugees by selling raffle tickets. I wasn’t certain what the winner would receive; that was to be resolved, although I was doing all of this on my own. I’d made the tickets, red with black marker, by hand, and carried them in a red basket. I also had red cloth napkins. Besides this, I carried open cans of wet food for cats and animals so that I could feed any animal that I encountered. After preparing myself, I entered the passenger compartment, greeting travelers as they rushed in to find preferred seats. Someone jostled me, spilling cat food onto the ground and upsetting me. As I cleaned it up, others asked why I had open cat food, so I explained that I was feeding animals while selling raffle tickets to raise money to help refugees. When asked what the prize was, I exclaimed, “The prize can be whatever you want.”

Dream end.

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Monday’s Theme Music

The daily cycle has commenced again. The beat goes on. Monday, Monday. Sunrise, sunset. Here we go again.

Hello! Welcome to Monday, August 23, 2021. Sunrise in Florence, Oregon, was at 6:29 AM in a clear pale blue sky, a sunrise of hope and optimism. Sunset will come at 8:08 PM. It’s 52 in Florence now but it will be 72 later today. Should be beautiful. But we’ll be on the road. Heading home. Ashland. Current temp there is 58. High is forecast to be 85. Air quality has improved, but it’s poor — 69. Still, it’s home for all that it implies, with its failing and securities, comforts and frustrations. Home. Such a four-letter word.

Unimaginatively, many home songs scale my brain. Home, sweet home, I’m on my way. Just set me free. Home, sweet home. And road songs. On the road again. Just can’t wait to get on the road again. But I’m also thinking, ain’t that a shame? Ain’t that a shame that I must leave this lovely place and ain’t that a shame that more people can’t live better lives? That we can’t find and sustain a better balance between nature and humanity’s endeavors? So I’m playing “Ain’t That A Shame” by Cheap Trick in the morning mental stream. I know Fats Domino was first with it. Great version. But I’m rocking today.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Here’s the music. Cheers

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The Friends Dream

This is not about the television series. This dream was about Mary & Bruce, names given to them for this dream. May worked for me. I met Bruce through others. He and I became good friends. He and Mary married.

Bruce has died in the dream. I just found out about it. He’s such a wonderful person, I’m completely shocked by his passing.

Mary has become a VIP. I want to see her to learn about Bruce’s death. In parallel, I’m told by another that Mary got him a good deal on a Jeep. I decide that I’d like to try to get a good deal when I see Mary to learn about Bruce’s death.

I call her office. There’s a little verbal altercation between me and her assistant. They don’t know who I am. Mary is a VIP with a heavy schedule. I’d like to see her. Mary comes on the line and tells me, “Of course I’ll see you, Sergeant Seidel,” just like we’re still in the service and she’s working for me. “I’ll make time.”

I go to her via a traveling montage. Arriving, I learn that Mary is struggling to get some photographs developed. I look for and find the photographs. They’re of her and Bruce and their children while on vacation. There’s also some photographs of symbols on walls. I understand that photographing them is forbidden. This is why the photos aren’t developing right. But I still believe I can fix them.

Mary and I met and walk along outside. She’s lovely as ever. Yes, she can get me a car discount, she tells me. We don’t really talk about Bruce’s death, just that he abruptly passed away. She misses him but she’s okay.

She has to return to work. I walk with her. We come across a man. He’s a VP who works for Mary. He’s tried to develop the photographs and couldn’t do it. I tell Mary that I want to try. She agrees. Tells me to take the photographs and see what I can do, but she wants them back. I agree. I’m wearing a leather jacket and slip them inside. Then I get on a motorcyle and ride away.

Dream end.

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The New Clothing Dream

A friend and I were staying with a gay couple. I seemed to be in my early twenties. The couple lived in a city apartment a few floors up. A big city, the place was busy and noisy. I was there to get rid of my old clothing, and then I was taking a trip to get new clothing. We were flying out for that purpose the next day. Meanwhile, my buddy wanted us to go out on the town before leaving. Parallel to this, our hosts were throwing a party (unrelated to our visit). They’d also received a new table and were putting it together.

As I’d chosen to get rid of my old clothes except what I was wearing and what I was traveling in the next day, I decided to find something to wear from the clothes I was getting rid of to wear out on the town. It should be something festive. I found an old pale yellow shirt with a red parrot embroidered on the left chest, a shirt I haven’t owned in over thirty years.

I paused while dressing to watch them trying to put the new table together. It wasn’t going well. They thought parts were missing and were calling the manufacturer for help. I thought that I would be doing it differently, as they seemed disorganized, but I believed part of the issue was that they already had too many people involved, so I remained uninvolved.

My friend was urging me to hurry up. It was night, and the night was calling him. He was wearing jeans and a maroon puffy jacket. I was only in a shirt. “Is it cold out? Do I need a jacket?” Without awaiting an answer, I went into my old clothes for a jacket. I pulled it on, but then decided it was too heavy and replaced with a lighter jacket, an old black “Members Only” jacket I used to have. I then worried, maybe I should change shirts because the parrot was no longer seen. But I left it at that. He and I scampered down the steps and into the brightly-lit night to have fun.

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Putting Things Together Dream

It was a mashup of color and sound to start. Confusion. Something going on but nada coherent. Sediment settled, becoming me. Somewhere. Outside? Hard to be certain, the dream camera was tight on me. Working on a project. First watching others. What was going on? They were taking bits…was that film? Putting film snippets together. Setting them in order. And what’s the point?

Ah, points are awarded for doing this right. Seems easy enough. Picking up film snippets, I began piecing them together. As it progressed, I discovered that holding on allowed that snippet to immerse you. Life scenes. Movie scenes. Which were they? I wasn’t certain.

Many people put the clips together with gaps between them. Why have gaps? I decided not to settle on gaps. I’d create smooth transitions from clip to clip. I started sharing with others what I was doing. People were surprised. Didn’t know that could be done. I was amused; why didn’t they try?

Then a ‘holy-shit’ moment banged in. Putting the clips together and holding them just right allowed me to enter those clips. I could travel in time and place to wherever and experience it. Stunning awakening. As I told others and prepared to show them, I awoke.

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The Porthole Dream

My late mother-in-law dominated one of my dreams last night.

I was on her ship. To my knowledge, this woman never owned a boat, never mind a large ship.

While I’d been with her, visiting, I was preparing to leave. Outside the ship, I was aware that it was heavily storming. Large waves rocked the ship. Winds howled. Sheets of rain fell from black iron skies.

I needed to go, to catch my flight, to go home. But first, well, there was the matter of my laundry. Done washing, I needed to put them into the dryer. I couldn’t open the dryer, though.

Men came to help. I gathered through conversations that they were my mother-in-law’s brothers. Appreciating the assistance, I managed to get the wet clothing into the dryer. Now I needed to get myself ready. Needed to shower and shave.

I went into the bathroom. A porthole was open. Ocean water came nearly to the porthole, terrifying me. “This should be closed,” I said to myself. I felt that I couldn’t close it without permission.

Leaving the bathroom with a backward look at the porthole, I encountered my mother-in-law in the hallway. “I was thinking, Mike.” (She’d always called Mike, her and her husband, although I went by Michael with my wife and the world.) “There’s no reason for you to go to the airport to catch your flight. You can catch it here.”

Although some part of my brain in the dream protested, I’m sorry, but we’re on a ship, that’s not possible, I said, “Are you sure? Is that possible?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother at all. It’ll save you time.” She walked off, as was her habit, as she finished her comment.

“Great,” I answered, then went after her. “There’s a porthole open in my bathroom. I think it needs to be closed. The water is about to come in. We could get flooded.”

“Okay, go ahead and close it,” she replied.

Happily, I returned to the bathroom and closed the porthole. I felt much better about that.

“Your flight is almost here,” one of the brothers told me.

I wasn’t ready. “Okay,” I called back. After rushing through my shower and shaving, I dressed while hurrying out to empty my clothes from the dryer. They needed to be packed. I had my suitcase at hand. I was thinking that the flight was early. I was thinking, how can the aircraft land on ship? Was it going to land on the sea? I was thinking, how can it land in this weather? I was thinking, I want to pack my clothes neatly but I need to get them into the suitcase and get going. I was thinking, there’s so much to do, and I feel so rushed. I was thinking, maybe I shouldn’t go now.

Shirt not properly tucked in, wet hair uncombed, suitcase open, clothes half in it, I declared myself ready to go.

Dream end.

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Refreshing Change of Dreams

Two other men and I were going on trips. Dressed in business suits with ties, we traveled to the airport in a limo. One would be going on with me while the third was going elsewhere.

We arrived, checked in, and was informed, “You’ve been upgraded to first class.”

Well, that was certainly a pleasant surprise. My friends and I inquired why. The agent didn’t know, so we travelers accepted the news and celebrated.

Then, I was notified that I’d won ten million dollars in a lottery.

Ten million! Wow. Well, it’d be less than that after taxes. Still, there was cause for celebration, right?

I didn’t remember entering a lottery. No matter. I made immediate arrangements to feed some children I’d read about. The man doing the paperwork with me was very snarky about it. I was cold and snarky back.

Then it was onto the plane. As I settled into my ultra-plush first-class seat, I dwelled in fantasies about what changes I could make to my life.

Dream end.

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Today’s Dream

Recurring themes proliferate in recent dreams: traveling. Being in an airport. Lost. Confused.

I had what seemed like one long dream. If it was a movie, it would have been about the length of Gone with the Wind — three hours and forty-two minutes. It just stretched on, and all took place in an airport.

But I’m focusing on one piece. I was traveling with a group of friends, waiting for our flight. We decided to walk down as a group to a corner store to get something to eat for the flight, or while waiting for it. But, we also discussed it and decided to buy food to donate. Thinking of that, I was looking in a large drum. Full of cans, I was selecting two to buy and donate to a food bank. As I was doing that, a large group of people came in through the narrow doors behind me, pushing me forward. I ended up being shoved into another guy’s back. Though I tried not to, I couldn’t help but plowing into him, almost knocking him over.

A big guy with short ginger hair, he was wearing a yellow-print shirt. He turned on me in anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I was trying to apologize and explain. At the same time, I had a can in my right hand (a can of peaches, as it was). If he came at me, I was going to swing that can at his head as hard as I could, but I hoped it didn’t come to that.

It seemed likely but as he advanced, a larger man stepped up between us. “He’s already apologized,” this man said to ginger head. “It wasn’t his fault. The crowd pushed him forward. Why don’t you drop it?”

I liked that in the midst of all this, a person was stepping up to help and protect me. Ginger head moved sullenly away and the big guy went on. Then I did the same, proceeding into the next part of the dream.

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