Tag: women

The Tigers Dream

A bit of a shambolic dream IMO.

There’d been some sort of apocalypse. Buildings and cities remained but the people were gone. Well, most. Handfuls of survivors roamed. I was one of them. We were extremely wary of one another. I somehow came to be with another man (no one known in real life). He and I had established a sort of fortress for ourselves. Large, well lit, mostly white with wooden accents, the hallways were broad and tall. Snug and comfortable, we were well-stocked and sure we’d survive. The big question hampering us was, but survive to what end? We halfheartedly spoke of it but reached no conclusions.

As I went through one section of our fortress, enjoying sunshine streaming through high windows, I discovered two deer in a room. That surprised me but turning, I realized that another room had two huge tigers. Bent on going after the deer, the tigers didn’t seem to notice me. Sneaking over, I closed the door on the tigers’ room. Then I closed the door on the deers’ room so they wouldn’t wander through our place. I was confused about how the animals had gotten in and also worried about how we were going to get them back out.

Going around to find my partner to warn him about the tigers and tell him about the deer, I found people trying to get into the front door. That was an all-glass area, and I could see them. Seeing me, they called out for me to let them in.

Scene shift.

Now we had like a little village going and were helping others. An enormous number of tigers were prowling. I figured they must have all escaped from zoos and then procreated. I kept encountering them but none ever threatened me. They didn’t even seem to notice I was there. But others were oblivious to the tigers, and I’d need to rush forward and give them warning. Most of them that I warned were children and women.

In parallel to this, I began collecting computers and testing them to see if they worked. When they didn’t, I’d take them apart to see what parts were needed and then go look for parts. I soon had a collection of many parts and had several computers going.

Then I was distracted from working on them by a leopard threatening a group of children. A leopard was a surprise; I’d not seen any before. Tail slashing back and forth, the leopard gazed at me as I approached. Yelling, “Shoo, shoo,” and making a shooing motion, I jumped toward it. Snarling a bit, the animal turned and left.

Dream end.

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Two Dreams of Helping

The first dream found me and my wife living in an apartment. A nice place, well lit, spacious, and quiet, it had some problems with ventilation and water, but I’d fixed them. However, one window gave me some trouble, so I went to adjust it.

I was surprised when I pulled back the window’s sheer curtains; another window, to another’s apartment was directly opposite, about a foot away. A man was over there. I easily looked into their pleasingly furnished place of overstuffed furniture (it was their living room) and then, as I thought was right, apologized to the man and made haste to shut the curtains and pretend they weren’t there.

But the woman, short, with thick, dark hair, was hurrying forward, calling, “Wait, wait.” So I did. She rushed up and asked, “How did you fix your ventilation?”

I had no real answer, explaining that I’d just kept tinkering with it. Impatiently, she interrupted, “Well, can you fix ours?”

Weirdly, there were then two other windows I could see in other people’s apartments. A woman was at each, a man behind them asking, “Can you also fix ours?”

I was taken back. I hadn’t done anything special that I could explain. I’d just kept addressing it. But I couldn’t tell them no; they wouldn’t let me. So I agreed to fix their places.

Dream end.

The next dream found me in a small square waiting room, darkish with heavy wood paneling. I’m not sure where people were waiting to go. I wasn’t waiting but just passing through. A woman escorted me through the room. I came across one individual, a man on the floor. Bearded with curly brown hair, he seemed almost lifeless.

“Oh, that’s Reardon,” the woman said when I asked about him. “He’s a lost cause. He doesn’t have a reason to go on.”

That upset me. Though the woman and I continued on through the room, Reardon stayed on my mind. I finally said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave him like that,” and went back.

Getting to him, I just gave him a long hug and talked to him, telling him that he was special, and that he shouldn’t give up. Then I went on.

I next came back into the room. Much lighter than it was before, a door was open on the other end. People were filing out. Most were already gone. Looking around, I asked about Reardon. I was told that he had recovered and that he was about to go through the door. She said he was very happy with what I’d done and kept talking about me.

I hurried over, calling him as I did. I didn’t want him to have the wrong idea, which to me, was that I was in love with him. I don’t know why I was suddenly worried that this is what he’d believe.

I called his name when I saw him. He turned and greeted me. At least a foot taller than me, I was forced to look up at him. In his right hand was a thick fan of money, mostly $100 bills.

Seeing me, he grinned. “I know what you’re going to say. I know what you’re thinking. You think that I think I’m in love with you, but I’m not. I understand what you did. Honestly, it saved me.”

He offered me money as a gift. I declined, saying something else that I don’t remember. We hugged, my face to his chest. A woman at the open door said it was time for him to go. They were waiting on him. Reardon released me and went through the doorway.

Dream end.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

I went off topic on a mini-rant with a friend this morning.

It started as an innocent encounter. They commented on my Harris-Walz bumper sticker. I support her campaign to be POTUS.

He said something about being comfortable with a woman president, and I just riffed, telling him that we’re overdue to have a female as our president, just as we were overdue to have a black as our president.

And maybe it was the air, but I went off on a tangent about sex and gender, and how so many people tell me that sex is a matter of biology and that it goes hand in hand with gender. They talk about it as a foregone and undeniable fact of nature. I point out that are many species who have it way more complicated than the simple labels of male and female. I firmly believe that sex and gender continue evolving for humans, just as we as a species continues evolving.

And, and, to finish, it’s always humorous to me when someone pulls out the God card. “God created man and woman.” Right, but isn’t your God all-knowing? So, if they’re pulling the strings of creation, aren’t they creating the others who aren’t strictly male and female as you would have it? And do you claim to know the mind of God? And don’t tell me you’re going to predicate everything on a book or teachings that are a few thousand years old. It’s been revised and edited, and by the way, can’t God change their mind about things?

Guess that’s a commandant I don’t know: “God shall not change their mind.”

I don’t know why I went off. But it’s out of me know. At least for the moment.

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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.

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Three Dream Shorts

Three dreams recalled from last night.

Bottle of whiskey.

The stone-lined path.

Wanted.

Bottle of whiskey. I was with dreams friends — folks known in a dream but not in RL. My dream wife was with me, and we were visiting in one of their homes. It was the collection point, for we were going out to dinner and then have some drinks and fun somewhere. It was a small group, just six or seven people, and the place where we met was a tidy but small, modern apartment.

We were sitting around a table with a white cloth covering it. The host entered. Opening a package, he said, “I got this in the mail today. It’s a prize I won.” He unboxed a crystal bottle of whiskey.

All were impressed. He poured his each a tumbler of his prize for us to sample. I drank mine and thought was amazing. So smooth, and slightly sweet. He offered more, which I accepted. Then, time to go. We walked down to a restaurant with my buddy taking his prize whiskey along. When he reached the restaurant, he poured other fluid into his whiskey bottle, appalling me. I wanted no more after that. Then, the, the bottle changed, with the bottle’s bottom growing rounder, until it would no longer stand upright, but tipped over. After the bottle was straightened three times, it fell over and broke.

The end.

The stone-lined path. I was out with my father, who was with others. I saw him and decided I wanted to avoid him. I could do this because we were outside, under an Interstate bridge. Huge pylons were holding it up. I kept hiding behind them.

Dad was busy doing something. Curiosity bettering me, I craned out to see. He had made a three-foot wide path in the dirt. Now he was lining it with rocks which he found. Seeing me, he called out, “Come help me, Michael. You’ll be good at this.” I went and began helping him lay the stones. While I was doing that, he took me and held me close to him. I felt embarrassed. He said, “I know that you avoid me but I want you to know how much I love you and how proud you make me feel.”

Dream end.

Wanted.

My wife and I were living in a small and cluttered apartment. We delivered a disagreement about how things should be arranged, so I said, I’m going to live in another place.

I left and went down a broad staircase, looking for another place. Women began approaching me, appealing to me to have sex. Some became very aggressive, shoving themselves against me, grabbing me, or passionately trying to kiss me. I kept telling them, “No, this is not going to happen.” They would give up and others would show up.

I went back up to my apartment with my wife. She was happily going about, doing something, dressed in her sweat clothes. I remained irritated with her and asked why she was acting as she was. She didn’t answer, so I left in exasperation. Another woman, in a white sundress with auburn curls highlighted blonde, told me that she wanted to take my clothes off and suggested with go back to her place. I told her, “No. Just leave me alone.”

Dream end

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‘Nother Military Dream

It was another military dream but with a marked difference. First, a friend, Jeff, who was also in the military was in the dream.

I was at some unidentified Air Force base. I was a chief master sergeant, E9, and was due to attend a conference of CMS that was due to start. (This is two ranks above my RL retired rank.) I worried about my hair, my uniform, and my shoes as attendees began arriving. But I slipped away and pressed my uniform, taking care of that, putting razor sharp creases in it. Then I stayed low until the barber opened. When I walked into the barber shop, there were two barbers and no customers, so either one could immediately cut my hair. Both knew me by name.

After getting my hair cut, I left the shop and looked down at my shoes. They were scuffed and old. I said to myself, those aren’t my shoes, and they immediately changed into highly polished new shoes.

I felt a lot better about myself. I ran into Jeff, also a CMS. He and I chatted. I ended up telling him about a cousin who died of cancer (a cancer did die of cancer in RL). We were walking around as we talked. Female military spouses were all over the place, and they kept flirting with me. The attention flattered me.

Jeff and I stayed together through the morning, sitting down and eating. Then the conference was due to start. Another CMS came up and asked if I was going, because it was getting under way. I told him that I’d left the military twice and came back twice, but now I’m done. I wasn’t going to attend. I was taking off my uniform and leaving.

I went off to find a bathroom. When I found one, I undressed and then peed and discovered that my pecker was half purple. One of the wives walked in on me. While taking a long look at my body, she apologized for entering. I replied, “I don’t mind. I’m just wondering why my penis is half purple.”

Dream end.

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

He accompanied his wife when she went clothes shopping. As he followed her, he began to consider what he’d wear and how he would dress as a woman. It felt like the swath of options and challenges for them are much greater than they are for men. Of course, many demands on women and how they dress are thrust on them by society and shaped by their bodies and coloring. After five minutes, he decided that it was just as well that he was male and didn’t need to think about all those things, starting with bras.

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Four Dreams

I awoke between these dreams and thought about them before returning to sleep. Probably remember them because it was slumber interruptus brought on by a nameless ginger boy (Papi – yeah, I named him) who, suffering from rainditis, wanted in and out of the house from four to seven AM.

The first dream was very sexy and erotic. I met several people at a bar, including a short woman with dark, short hair. She was wearing a purple shirt. I complimented her on it. When we began talking, we had an immediate connection. She revealed she was a schoolteacher. Eventually, while having drinks, we moved away from the others, and she proposed that we go have sex. I declined, explaining that I was married. She kept making suggestive remarks, touching me, stroking my face and arm, promising me that she’d be discreet, and no one would ever know. We kissed. I told her that was a mistake and left. I found my wife, who was out shopping. The woman walked by. She was with another man. My wife remarked that she looked familiar. I began telling her, I want you to know that she and I kissed. But my wife interrupted me while I was speaking, and I didn’t finish the confession. She continued shopping. The dream ended and I awoke. I thought about the dream, fell asleep, and began dreaming again.

I was in an art class in the second dream. I was the only student. The teacher was a young woman. Her shoulder-length black hair was glossy but then, watching her, I realized that the right half of her hair was dyed dark blue. Her hair curved up, becoming feathery. A white woman, she was wearing a purple top.

She was administering a test to me. I finished it very quickly. When she saw that I was finished, she came around to grade it. I told her that I probably hadn’t done very well, maybe a seventy or eighty, because I was preoccupied with trying to understand a dream that I’d had. I then woke up.

For the third dream, I was in a large farmhouse with many people. I knew some but many were strangers. Most were families staying there like me, temporarily, but it was a place where I used to live. In this dream, I was thinking about the first dream that I’d had and what it meant. Trying to find some privacy to think, I went into a bedroom. It turned out to be a suite and some other people were staying there. I started apologizing, only to realize that no one was in there except a black dog. I went back into the main part and began walking around, still thinking about the dream. Another guest asked me what was wrong. I didn’t want to tell about the dream, so I told her that I was having problems with a project. I’d created a film that was part stop-action, part live-action, and part art. I then started trying to explain this more, bringing out a video player and playing the work on a screen, and complaining that I couldn’t get it to work right. She thought it was a technical issue and contacted a woman to come and help. She said this was a technical expert who could fix anything. The expert turned out to be a short, stocky, dark-haired young woman. I explained my problem and she began working on it. We were interrupted when others came in with food. I awoke.

In the fourth dream, I was walking, wandering a city, trying to understand the first dream. The city was unusual, one with a series of elevated sidewalks connecting buildings. The sidewalks were high above railroad tracks, streets, and highways. The arrangement reminded me of M.C. Escher paintings. The walks were sometimes no wider than a steel girder, although the walks were always made of white concrete. I was walking randomly along them, often making ninety degree turns, with no idea where I was going, but not caring.

When I made one turn, I ended up walking into a crowd of girls. They were by a doorway. I veered around them to continue but realized that I was entering a private residence. Stopping, I said, “Oh my God, what am I doing? This isn’t my house. I have no right to enter.” The girls — probably five or six in number, all teenagers, and wearing shades of purple — were mostly indifferent or irritated by my presence, but one laughed about what I’d done and commiserated with my situation. She asked if I wanted something to eat. I replied, “No, but I’ll take a milkshake if there are any.” She gave me a vanilla shake. I drank it down, really enjoying it, then left.

I ended up at a small food stand in a large hall being run by a short, elderly man with a bushy black and gray mustache. Nothing else was there. Although I had consumed a milk shake earlier, I ordered a milkshake and a cheeseburger. He said, “These are really popular.” He handed me a shot glass and a small plate with a silver-dollar sized burger on it. I handed him a twenty and gazed at what he’d presented me. He returned two dollars in change, which I gave him as a tip, even as I thought, that’s a lot of money for this tiny meal.

Then I recalled reading about this milkshake and burger, that they’re supposed to be energy boosters that also elevated your thinking and intelligence. I downed the milkshake and swallowed the burger in one bite – it was that small. I discovered that I was at a theater; the burger and shake had cost so much because it included a theater ticket. I went in.

The stage was in the center of several elevated levels. I went up to the highest to find a seat. White tables and chairs lined the levels, which had a thin, metal handrail. The tables were occupied. I found one where an old friend was sitting with several empty chairs. I asked if I could sit there but he said, “No, I’m saving those for other people.” I sat with a laugh, telling him that I’d move when they came, which upset him.

A young woman passed. She was speaking with her mother. I noticed that she wore purple. She said that some old guy had interrupted their study session when he’d tried walking into her friend’s house. I realized that she was speaking about me and tried to eavesdrop. My old friend began talking, though, telling me that he was worried about his son. The OF looked the same as when I last saw him, almost forty years ago. He was telling me that his son was having problems, that he thought he might be suicidal. I listened, trying to offer supportive words. The OF invited me to go have something to eat with him. I accepted although I wasn’t hungry, because I’d just eaten. We went down to a restaurant. I ordered a milkshake.

The dream ended.

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The Port Dream

This was a dream about port, the fortified wine drink. A very expensive bottle of port had turned up missing from its crate. The owners were the U.S. government. CIA, I think. I didn’t know who took it but I quickly realized where it was. The bottle had been sent to offer samples to people at a function. I met with the agent, a blond, white male, clean shaved, tousled hair, average height, casual clothes, and relayed what I’d learned. He told me it was critical to recover that bottle. I told him that I would get it back.

A strange car journey in a Ford Thunderbird convertible (a 1965, I think, which was what my father owned) followed, a circuitous route that embraced old steel girder bridges over ravines and rivers, a bumpy, dusty lane, a winding country highway, and a modern American Interstate. I always knew where I was going but detours kept coming up. Fair weather and certainty kept me calm, though.

I arrived at the function, where a gathering of women was about to open the bottle to sample it. I intervened, telling them they’d been sent the wrong bottle and producing another bottle for their benefit. The agent arrived to take the bottle from me. We then agreed we would go to the river. A few others joined us enroute, including a female acquaintance of mine, a young white woman with a round face and a short, black bob. The agent told me to open the bottle. That confused the woman. She protested that it was supposed to be a protected bottle, according to her understanding. I replied, that was a different time. Circumstances had shifted and we were approved to open the bottle to sample it.

I turned to the agent for confirmation. After talking about it with me and thinking more, he agreed with me. We opened the bottle and poured small portions into fine, small glasses. Toasting, we drank.

Dream end.

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A Messy Dream

I was at a party and having a good time. Two women were trying to seduce me. Both were my age, and brunettes. One was tall and in a red satin blouse while the shorter one wore a forest green shirt. I was an eager participant. But every time that I was alone with one, an interruption would stamp stop. Once, one of the women became sick and vomited. Hah!

Meanwile, I then went out and off to a place being rented by me and others. The others had children and the children were making a mess. We were due to check out in a few hours. Walking around, I was horrified to discover the children had put food everywhere and seemed to have damaged some furniture. I went back to inform their parents, but they were having a good time and ignored me. After failing to get anyone’s attention, I attempted to dismiss it. Going to a recliner, I settled back. Two of my cats showed me, one on either side, which made me happy. The third cat showed up, wandering around the chair, sniffing. One cat jumped down and started going after the other one. The two cats went running around. I called to them to stop, then went to find them when they disappeared.

Other cats appeared. Two were black and white like the cat of mine who chased the other. Each was walking upright on their rear legs. One had a mop of pink hair on its head. The other had yellow hair. I thought each was my cat, Tucker, but realized it wasn’t. Then Tucker came out, walking upright like them, with a mop of light blue hair crowning his head. I tried telling other people to look at these cats but no one did.

A child had locked something up. A really tiny key was needed. I had one but it broke so I went to a counter where a man offered me a similar key. To get it, though, I needed to subscribe to getting a key a month. I didn’t need a key a month so I wasn’t willing to sign up. Looking for something to work as a key, I found some small toy and broke a piece off. That worked.

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