I’m in some kind of special ?class with a few dozen other people from work. It was voluntary and i’m kind of surprised i participated. Also, some information regarding upcoming ‘events’ at work is mentioned in the agenda, which at the time of reading didn’t mean anything to me.
There’s a panel of five experts talking about ?? . As the meeting organizer introduces the panel, i look down the line and see Yoko Ono is one of the panelists. We make eye contact and she smiles warmly at me. I think she recognizes me by my bushy hair from my on-line picture from when i’ve commented on her posts on her myspace space.
After the panel had been introduced the ‘class’ resumed our seats at our school desks. A ‘helper’ to the panel began passing out books to a few people in the class and i was one of those that received one. It was something i’ve read before but i can’t remember now that i’m awake. Some classic novel and inside the front cover is a personalized dedication from Yoko. I’m thrilled to have it and feel very special.
Cut scene. I’m in what seems to be a waiting station of some kind. It’s all wood panel and narrow like a train, but there is only a long wooden bench (pews?) on either side facing each other across the aisle and along with me a few of my co-workers are waiting to be called. Most of them don’t know what it’s about because they didn’t have the advantage of having gone to the special class, but me and a couple of other people that did know that each of us are going to meet individually with our manager and be evaluated on how we’re dressed. The next girl who’s called back is Jennifer and i’m shocked at her short dress. It barely covers her crotch and i tell her she’s going to be in trouble in the meeting. She gets defensive but i remind her that even without the agenda, the normal dress code says that dresses can’t be shorter than a hands-length from the knee and it’s always been that way. She leaves and i’m talking with ?? about what will happen to Jennifer. I’m not worried about my appearance because i’m dressed in nice business attire instead of my usual jeans only because i knew what to expect.
Finally i’m called in. The ‘manager’ is somebody i don’t know well but don’t like and i know she doesn’t care for me either. She looks kinda like Halle Barry. She’s laying on a futon under blankets. Apparently she’s sick but is still going to have the meeting. Her assistant is in the only chair in the room so i stand just inside the door and wait for one of them to start the questioning. I tell her, half-jokingly, that if i get sick because of her she’s going to be in trouble.
Now the manager is behind a desk and is asking me about my ?absences – something related to my medical condition. I know she can’t find fault with my appearance so she’s digging for anything else. She says “all your doctors note says is that the condition is ‘being followed’ “ and i give her the details of PKD (irreversible, no cure, slow but steady failure of function) and she seems to be surprised that it wasn’t just some kind of ploy. I feel like i’ve won the battle.
Now i’m in a room full of ‘managers’ and it’s like an inquisition. There are a couple of DMA people in the meeting that i know from working with in the past. My responses to the questions are completely honest and therefore offensive to most of the ‘managers’ and i acknowledge that fact but go on to tell them that i don’t care if they’re offended because the truth is the truth regardless. The DMA people agree with me because they know i’ve always been that way. Again, nobody can find fault with my appearance. Strawberry Fields Forever.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Black snake, black snake have you any wool. Wait. What?
In the dream i’m inside the Wappingers Falls NY house sleeping. I wake up in the night and i’m restless. It’s winter and there’s snow on the fallen leaves. I go outside and climb up a cloth ladder onto a sheet that has been stretch across branches of a large tree to form a kind of floor. I lay down and fall right to sleep. Something wakes me and i look down over the edge of the sheet-floor and see a very long black snake curled up at the base of my tree. It’s odd looking because its skin isn’t sleek and smooth like a snake is supposed to be. Its skin is kind of baggy and wrinkled, reminiscent of an elephants leg. Something. Anyways, i’m surprised at how big it is and wonder about it moving around in the cold but i’m not really afraid because i know black snakes are harmless. The snake begins to move with intent and i turn my head to look the other way and there’s an even BIGGER black snake coming from the direction of the house. The snakes moves towards each other at a fast speed and begin to ‘fight’. The fight doesn’t last long though and the smaller snake retreats to another tree. The large snake is now aware of me – it feels my warmth – and rears up until it’s head is all the way up even with mine in my tree. Now i’m afraid for some reason. I think because of the snakes awareness of me. I swing at its head with my fist to knock it down but in doing so, i cause the sheet-floor to loosen and sink close to the ground. Now both snakes are curious and crawling through the warmth of the sheet and i’m not so much afraid as ?disgusted? not sure. It was less than fear. Uneasiness? Disturbed? Just then dad came out of the house to get the newspaper. It’s morning now and i call to dad to tell him about the two snakes. He chases them away and tells me that he’ll help me put the sheet-floor back up later.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Game of life?
The dream takes place in a cozy log cabin. I’m not in the dream, just watching it. There is a large game board spread out on the square wooden table. A boy, maybe six or seven years old, is playing. His mother and a man (a deputy?) are sitting on a loveseat behind the child. The game board is larger than a regular game but it reminds me of Monopoly. It’s got squares all along the outer edge with instructions on each square. The game pieces are whatever the player wants them to be. [Like in Leela, the game piece is something that matters to the player – i’ve always used my moonstone ring]
There’s a commotion out back and i look to see what it is. There’s a field covered in long golden wheatgrass. At the back of the field is a stream. This property is familiar to me – i’ve dreamed here before. On the other side of the stream the plants are overgrown and wild. Something or somebody is coming through the brush. I look back at the boy and the man and woman and they don’t seem to be aware that somebody is coming. When i look back to see if whoever/whatever is coming through the brush there’s an old Asian woman and a little Asian girl approaching the house. I assume that the woman is grandmother to the little girl. The little girl is maybe 4 years old.
The deputy gets up from the couch and responds to the knock on the door. He lets the granny and little girl into the cabin. The girl is a child prodigy of the game and has come to challenge the boy, who is the current champion. The girl takes her place at the table and grandmother takes a seat in a wooden kitchen chair behind the child. The chair is dark wood and has a calico pillow on the seat. Granny hands the little girl her game piece. It looks like a small scalloped cup-like thing made out of ?wonton wrapper. In the dream i wonder if it’s a type of fortune cookie. The young boy looks on as the game is set up for play and as he watches the little girl i hear him say “Uh oh” and realize he’s nervous even though he’s the current champion.
Just as the game is about to begin there’s another disturbance outside a large window near the front door. The deputy gets up to investigate and just when he gets to the window, the window shatters and large tentacle-like things grab him and snatch him out through the broken window. I become an active part of the dream now and run after him to the opening and grab his feet. He’s being consumed by what appears to be a giant rutabaga or turnip. He’s wrapped up in roots. I pull as hard as i can and get him back into the living room. His adrenaline is pumping and he pulls out his police gun and shoots at the thing.
That’s all i remember.
The cabin was rustic and very homey. There were afghans covering the upholstered chairs and there was a large stone fireplace in ?the kitchen? It seems like there was just the living room and the kitchen with dining area. If there were other rooms i didn’t notice. The field in back of the house is so familiar but i can’t think of any real-life place like that so it probably is a place i’ve been to before in dreams.
There’s a commotion out back and i look to see what it is. There’s a field covered in long golden wheatgrass. At the back of the field is a stream. This property is familiar to me – i’ve dreamed here before. On the other side of the stream the plants are overgrown and wild. Something or somebody is coming through the brush. I look back at the boy and the man and woman and they don’t seem to be aware that somebody is coming. When i look back to see if whoever/whatever is coming through the brush there’s an old Asian woman and a little Asian girl approaching the house. I assume that the woman is grandmother to the little girl. The little girl is maybe 4 years old.
The deputy gets up from the couch and responds to the knock on the door. He lets the granny and little girl into the cabin. The girl is a child prodigy of the game and has come to challenge the boy, who is the current champion. The girl takes her place at the table and grandmother takes a seat in a wooden kitchen chair behind the child. The chair is dark wood and has a calico pillow on the seat. Granny hands the little girl her game piece. It looks like a small scalloped cup-like thing made out of ?wonton wrapper. In the dream i wonder if it’s a type of fortune cookie. The young boy looks on as the game is set up for play and as he watches the little girl i hear him say “Uh oh” and realize he’s nervous even though he’s the current champion.
Just as the game is about to begin there’s another disturbance outside a large window near the front door. The deputy gets up to investigate and just when he gets to the window, the window shatters and large tentacle-like things grab him and snatch him out through the broken window. I become an active part of the dream now and run after him to the opening and grab his feet. He’s being consumed by what appears to be a giant rutabaga or turnip. He’s wrapped up in roots. I pull as hard as i can and get him back into the living room. His adrenaline is pumping and he pulls out his police gun and shoots at the thing.
That’s all i remember.
The cabin was rustic and very homey. There were afghans covering the upholstered chairs and there was a large stone fireplace in ?the kitchen? It seems like there was just the living room and the kitchen with dining area. If there were other rooms i didn’t notice. The field in back of the house is so familiar but i can’t think of any real-life place like that so it probably is a place i’ve been to before in dreams.
Monday, August 17, 2009
lost and abandoned
Some people (friends) including Scott and i are staying at some kind of ?resort? and i decide to take the tram to the station to catch a locomotive to Disney. I’m thinking i’ll just go and come back because i just want to see the park, but don’t necessarily want to go in. So i take the tram – a kind of open air electric train. The tram is completely white and seems to be made of molded plastic. There are no sharp edges. There are a lot of people on the train. We get to the station and i get out of the tram thinking i’ll catch the next one back but it turns out that was the last run of the day. So now i’m stuck and don’t want to take the locomotive to Disney because then i’ll just be that much farther away from getting back to my friends. So i’m just stranded in the station and don’t know what to do. Outside of the station is a kind of abandoned amusement park and i see a few people milling around the remnants of the rides and game booths. I take out my cell phone to call Scott and it takes me a while to figure out how to use it because it’s like a flip type phone but when you open it all of the numbers are displayed in rows but not the associated name. So i’m scrolling through the numbers and don’t know which one is the right one. Finally i call the one i think is right and Scott answers. I try to explain where i am but he doesn’t know anything about the trains and stuff and i don’t know where i am and i’m getting hysterical because i want to go back. Don’t remember any more…
My dreams for the last three nights have all involved being lost or stuck in places with crowds of people, missing planes or trains, not being able to get in touch with people… nothing but frustration.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Sea Turtles and red birds
A companion and i are just arriving at Padre Island in an old propeller airplane. We hear a news alert over the radio. A very large herd? pod? of sea turtles has been spotted heading towards the beach. I’m a little nervous because i know how big sea turtles are and have never seen them up close in the wild.
We’re (i don’t know who is with me – i just know there’s somebody at my side) standing on an extremely pristine beach. The sand is very fine, very white (it reminds me of Fort Walton Beach). There’s a park ranger with us, explaining something about the turtles when the turtles ‘land’. There’s dozens of them that i can see. We’re surrounded by them and they’re huge. Some land on their backs and i’m worried that they won’t be able to right themselves. As i start towards one to see if i can help it turn over, it’s flips itself upright, seemingly without any effort at all. They’re so agile! All up and down the beach (a sort of private cove maybe a half mile long) i can see giant turtles flipping themselves upright here and there. I turn back to the park ranger to hear more about the turtles when a large red bird (like a Macaw Parrot) lands on the rangers shoulder. He just keeps on talking like it’s a regular occurrence but i’m thrilled at how big and red the bird is. I’ve never seen such a beautiful shade of red. It’s like a living feathered ruby.
Then we’re inside a kind of island shelter – palm leaves for a roof. Tiki-like. The ranger is still with us but the big red bird is gone. I’m telling my companion about the time i attended a medical seminar in San Antonio and my friend Sharon drove all the way down from Virginia to stay with me. After the seminar ended and i flew home, she continued driving by herself down to South Padre Island (that’s all real-life true). As i’m speaking, a tiny bird, like a hummingbird but completely red, flutters around me. The ranger tells me to hold out my hand and i do. The small bird perches on my outstretched finger and i feel thrilled. I continue telling my companion about how the front plate on Sharon’s car was stolen (in VA car have to have a front and rear license plate). Then the dream morphs.
Sharon is driving up Hwy 60 and a highway patrolman pulls her over for not having a front tag. She explains about her front tag being stolen in Texas. The policeman is sympathetic. He gives her a letter that shows she’s already received a warning in case she gets stopped again by police before she gets home.
Then i woke up.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Nothing good happens when you go off pissed
I’m on a road trip with Scott, Mike, ?Chris and Lauren? We’re going to a big park or campground with pools and rides and stuff. Mike is driving but he’s not in the driver seat. I’m in the front passenger seat and Mike is in a center seat and driving from there. Nobody is in the driver's seat. I want him to move over and get in the driver seat because it’s obvious he can’t use the brake and accelerator very well from the position of the middle seat and i'm afraid he's going to get us into an accident. He refuses to move into the driver’s seat and we’re both pissed. He's mad at me for questioning him and i'm pissed that he can't see how much danger he's putting us and the driver's of other cars in. We slow down to take a left into the park and i get out of the car and go off on my own because i'm so angry.
I’m walking through one of the indoor pool areas and decided to get in the water. Fully dressed and with shoes and socks on, i walk through the pool past the floats and people. I have to cut through the restaurant to get back inside the airport/hotel and i realize i’m no longer wearing shoes and socks and don’t remember where i left them. I get into the lobby of the airport/hotel and i’m pulling my suitcase. I’m still annoyed with Mike and don’t want to go back to the room that we’re all sharing on the fouth floor. I can't remember the number anyways and that makes me annoyed with myself for being so disorganized. I find an elevator going up but there’re already several people waiting to board so when the elevator arrives i don’t get on. Just as the doors are closing i realize the elevator was huge inside and my suitcase and i would have easily fit. It didn’t really matter though and i waited for the next one. I went up to the eighth floor and walk around the halls pulling my suitcase until i find a door that’s opened and i go into that room and crash. Room 807.
It’s the next morning and i’m panicked because i know i have to catch an airplane but don’t know what time or anything because all my tickets and ID are in a smaller bag that i left with the gang (and i’m assuming is in the room they’re sharing). I don’t know what time it is or anything so i rush to find a down elevator thinking that i’ll wait in a central location until i meet up with my party again. It takes awhile to find an elevator and it’s just a one-person small one that you sit down in. My suitcase is too big so i fold it in half and carry it under my arm. When i get to the bottom i see that there’s a long line to get into the airport to check in, but since i can’t check in i need to find a way around the line and people to enter through the lobby door. I see a couple standing outside on a terrace and i’m thinking i can just walk around the outside. The tree-lined sidewalk is a long wide curve around the main road and not a hard walk. I’m not really sure if i’m going the right way but i feel like as long as i keep moving i won’t panic completely. As i come around the front of the building i see that it was the right way to go and feel relieved. I go to a concierge to explain that i’ve misplaced my ID and plane ticket to see if she can maybe help me to find out which gate my plane leaves from and what time when i notice a clock on the wall that say’s it’s only 7:30 am. I know that if our plane was leaving anytime soon the group would already be down in the lobby so i don’t feel quite so panicky and decide to go to the cafeteria for breakfast. As i’m standing in THAT line i realize i could just have the front desk call Scott in the room and tell him where i am. But then Scott is in the cafeteria with me. My suitcase is still folded up like a satchel and most of my stuff is gone. I explain to him why i got mad in the car and he just laughs (i’m assuming because he knows how pigheaded Mike and i can be when we disagree stupid things). He says the rest of the folks are on their way down and i say something about my ticket and ID being in my carry-on and did he think they’d bring it down. He replied sarcastically “What do YOU think?” and i realize i better get to the room and pack my stuff up because they’re not going to do anything for me. I ask him if the room number is 431 and he says “No, it’s 435” As i hurry to find the room i realize i’ve lost my suitcase now.
Then i woke up from that BITCH of a dream.
Last night i felt that Mike was being a little cold towards me and realized i’d felt that way for the last couple of days. I’m not sure what i said or did to trigger it, but i’m sure i said or did something that annoyed him but he will never say directly what the issue is, and he doesn’t just get over it. I think i first knew something was up with him when we went out to dinner the other night and, in response to something i said about other people feeding the dogs table scraps, he looked at me exasperated then looked at Wayne and Scott and said “She doesn’t know me at all!” which was so funny because he has absolutely NO insight into his own psyche much less behavior patterns AND he’s the biggest pussy when it comes to spoiling his dogs. Even Scott agreed with me on the point i’d made. Apparently it’s only his mom that he doesn’t correct about feeding the dogs table scraps behind his back. Oh yeah. I vaguely remember him saying something in the car on the way over to the ?Saucer on Friday night too along a similar vein.
So i suppose it was a chain of my bullshit that got under his skin. No doubt i can be annoying if you’re in a bad mood or tired. But since he has no insight he can’t even just say “you know what? i’m tired and/or in a bad mood so just stop talking to me for a bit”. Everything is indirect with him. Textbook Passive/Aggressive. No matter. He’ll get over what ever it is he perceives i’ve done eventually i suppose. He comes from a family of grudge holders so it could be awhile. No matter. Scott’s my boy. We are two peas in a pod. When we disagree it’s “Bark! Bark! Bark!” and then it’s all over. Neither of us will even remember disagreeing. Sometimes by the end of the argument we don’t even remember which position we’d taken on the subject, that’s how alike we are. I attribute it to us both being air signs but it might just be because we’re both dipshits. Whatever. He’s my brother no doubt about it. Or soul pal.
So anyways, i’m sure that’s what triggered the stress dream. Plus Chris and Lauren (and Jay) are coming for a visit this weekend so that’s probably why they were in the dream and we were at the airport. Hate that airport/hotel place too. And i hate losing my stuff.
I’m walking through one of the indoor pool areas and decided to get in the water. Fully dressed and with shoes and socks on, i walk through the pool past the floats and people. I have to cut through the restaurant to get back inside the airport/hotel and i realize i’m no longer wearing shoes and socks and don’t remember where i left them. I get into the lobby of the airport/hotel and i’m pulling my suitcase. I’m still annoyed with Mike and don’t want to go back to the room that we’re all sharing on the fouth floor. I can't remember the number anyways and that makes me annoyed with myself for being so disorganized. I find an elevator going up but there’re already several people waiting to board so when the elevator arrives i don’t get on. Just as the doors are closing i realize the elevator was huge inside and my suitcase and i would have easily fit. It didn’t really matter though and i waited for the next one. I went up to the eighth floor and walk around the halls pulling my suitcase until i find a door that’s opened and i go into that room and crash. Room 807.
It’s the next morning and i’m panicked because i know i have to catch an airplane but don’t know what time or anything because all my tickets and ID are in a smaller bag that i left with the gang (and i’m assuming is in the room they’re sharing). I don’t know what time it is or anything so i rush to find a down elevator thinking that i’ll wait in a central location until i meet up with my party again. It takes awhile to find an elevator and it’s just a one-person small one that you sit down in. My suitcase is too big so i fold it in half and carry it under my arm. When i get to the bottom i see that there’s a long line to get into the airport to check in, but since i can’t check in i need to find a way around the line and people to enter through the lobby door. I see a couple standing outside on a terrace and i’m thinking i can just walk around the outside. The tree-lined sidewalk is a long wide curve around the main road and not a hard walk. I’m not really sure if i’m going the right way but i feel like as long as i keep moving i won’t panic completely. As i come around the front of the building i see that it was the right way to go and feel relieved. I go to a concierge to explain that i’ve misplaced my ID and plane ticket to see if she can maybe help me to find out which gate my plane leaves from and what time when i notice a clock on the wall that say’s it’s only 7:30 am. I know that if our plane was leaving anytime soon the group would already be down in the lobby so i don’t feel quite so panicky and decide to go to the cafeteria for breakfast. As i’m standing in THAT line i realize i could just have the front desk call Scott in the room and tell him where i am. But then Scott is in the cafeteria with me. My suitcase is still folded up like a satchel and most of my stuff is gone. I explain to him why i got mad in the car and he just laughs (i’m assuming because he knows how pigheaded Mike and i can be when we disagree stupid things). He says the rest of the folks are on their way down and i say something about my ticket and ID being in my carry-on and did he think they’d bring it down. He replied sarcastically “What do YOU think?” and i realize i better get to the room and pack my stuff up because they’re not going to do anything for me. I ask him if the room number is 431 and he says “No, it’s 435” As i hurry to find the room i realize i’ve lost my suitcase now.
Then i woke up from that BITCH of a dream.
Last night i felt that Mike was being a little cold towards me and realized i’d felt that way for the last couple of days. I’m not sure what i said or did to trigger it, but i’m sure i said or did something that annoyed him but he will never say directly what the issue is, and he doesn’t just get over it. I think i first knew something was up with him when we went out to dinner the other night and, in response to something i said about other people feeding the dogs table scraps, he looked at me exasperated then looked at Wayne and Scott and said “She doesn’t know me at all!” which was so funny because he has absolutely NO insight into his own psyche much less behavior patterns AND he’s the biggest pussy when it comes to spoiling his dogs. Even Scott agreed with me on the point i’d made. Apparently it’s only his mom that he doesn’t correct about feeding the dogs table scraps behind his back. Oh yeah. I vaguely remember him saying something in the car on the way over to the ?Saucer on Friday night too along a similar vein.
So i suppose it was a chain of my bullshit that got under his skin. No doubt i can be annoying if you’re in a bad mood or tired. But since he has no insight he can’t even just say “you know what? i’m tired and/or in a bad mood so just stop talking to me for a bit”. Everything is indirect with him. Textbook Passive/Aggressive. No matter. He’ll get over what ever it is he perceives i’ve done eventually i suppose. He comes from a family of grudge holders so it could be awhile. No matter. Scott’s my boy. We are two peas in a pod. When we disagree it’s “Bark! Bark! Bark!” and then it’s all over. Neither of us will even remember disagreeing. Sometimes by the end of the argument we don’t even remember which position we’d taken on the subject, that’s how alike we are. I attribute it to us both being air signs but it might just be because we’re both dipshits. Whatever. He’s my brother no doubt about it. Or soul pal.
So anyways, i’m sure that’s what triggered the stress dream. Plus Chris and Lauren (and Jay) are coming for a visit this weekend so that’s probably why they were in the dream and we were at the airport. Hate that airport/hotel place too. And i hate losing my stuff.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
A new Brazil?
A group of four people and i are waiting at some sort of transport stop on a platform at the side of a dusty dirt road. The narrow straight road stretches out in either direction, forward or behind, as far as the eyes can see. The whole environment is dusty and flat and drab. The people have been waiting for a long time and are getting testy. It’s ?wartime and we are under strict military rule so travel is restricted and movement is dependent upon the transport provided by the government. A pair of ?soldiers appears at the stop and the people begin berating them for how long they’ve been waiting for the bus. The soldiers just kind of laugh and say some hostile things and the people shut up. The soldiers continue down the road. One of them is a man but the other one is a kind of cyborg centaur type creature. He has a man head and shoulders and arms but the rest of him is some kind of black, metal four legged jeep/wasp hybrid with a big stinger on the back side. One of the people at the bus stop mutters something about just letting the cyborg sting him and getting it over with. The wait continues. Occasionally a bus will drive by with out stopping and the people just get angrier and angrier. Finally, another pair of soldiers – man and cyborg – reaches the platform. This time though the soldier is an important one – a general or something – and has a lot of medals and bars on his coat. The cyborg thing is just like the other one we’d seen earlier. This pair is even more sarcastic and unsympathetic than the last pair and when they continue walking we are relieved they’ve gone. Shortly after that the bus comes and we board. Our destination is The City. Everybody has to go there by government order. It’s nerve wracking because rumor has it that if your papers aren’t in order when you arrive you are immediately executed so we’re all checking our papers the entire ride and never see the scenery outside the bus.
We arrive at The City and it’s very modern and beautiful. It’s kind of terraced or layered so that the first part you come to is “ground level” and sort of a perimeter of park-like grass and trees. Tables are set up and manned by soldiers in brown uniforms. They will check us through. We see soldiers in black standing several hundred feet beyond the soldiers at the tables and decide that those are probably the executioners. We’re glad to note that it appears everybody’s papers have been in order so far because there aren’t any bodies. My group presents our papers and is allowed to continue through the main gate. We enter and are on the first level. It’s very much like a city square. Benches and fountains, trees, storefronts. It all looks very nice but there’s nobody sitting on the benches enjoying the sound of the water and there’s nobody window shopping. It’s just a façade. We continue to the next level and it’s separated by a canal. Here, there are more people and more lines. We overhear an officer berating a woman for something and the next thing we know, he’s flung her over the canal. If she can reach the other side she’ll be okay but the consensus is that she won’t be able to pull herself out of the water once the gets to the other side and is probably going to drown. I’m worried because i don’t know what she’s done to deserve that fate and maybe i’ll be subject to the same.
Scene change. We’re in a room and people are strewn around on the floor. Apparently this is our barrack. It’s just a big empty room in an old house. The floor is nice hardwood. I can see that at one time in the past it was a beautiful home. Probably a governor’s mansion or something like that. Our group is more defined now. There is a young boy, me, two women and another man. One of the women appears to have been a circus performer or acrobat. She’s wearing spandex and has long straight blonde hair. The other woman might be the wife of the man, i’m not sure. Neither of them really stands out to me. The boy is the main character in this part of the dream though. He seems to be around six or seven with golden curls. Like the little prince from the story. He’s young but he’s our leader. A small girl comes in to our group and she approaches the boy. He talks with her a bit trying to get to know her. Apparently it’s a big deal in this world to know who your father is because everything that happens to you, from the job you get to how you’re treated is dependant on knowing who your father is. The little girl doesn’t know and the boy is trying to help her to remember.
Scene change. We’re still the same group but a lot of time has passed. The adults all look the same but the boy is now grown and in his late teens. The little girl is also grown and knows who her father is. So we’re apparently part of an organization that the authorities have been watching for years. We’re subversive and they know it but can’t catch us doing anything wrong. We pull off some ?capers or tasks and the lives we’re leading are getting more and more dangerous. By this time we’re several levels up in the city – maybe fourth or fifth. The city reminds me of an Aztec pyramid but gigantic and city size. We enter a room that seems to not have gravity and we can ‘fly’ (very Ender’s Game) and we see the young girl from our group has reached a balcony on the other side. We decide to make our way towards her but before we can get there, a soldier in black has captured her and takes her away. The acrobat is also caught and taken to be executed. A group of six soldiers in black crush her between two Styrofoam boards and i can hear her screaming to stop because it hurts. Her cries get weaker and i hear her say “I feel my life leaving” and she collapses. The rest of us are terrified and confused. We don’t know what’s happened to the young girl.
Scene change. From the perspective of the young girl. She’s in a room with The General and he’s downloading data from her. It turns out that she is really a cyborg girl and has been planted into the boys group to infiltrate and gather evidence. I’m amazed at the years they’ve invested in the project. The boy is devastated because this was his closest friend and they pretty much grew up together. The soldiers come for the other woman and she too is executed by being pressed between what look like fish nets on frames. She too screams for a while until her life streams out of her.
I can’t remember any more after that so maybe i was the once that was pressed at the end.
Then i fell into a dream and i was doing laundry. I started to use a washer/dryer in the upstairs of the house i was in but realized that the big washing machine was downstairs so i went to use that one. It’s in the basement and i realized i’m in my Manassas house. The laundry room was across the hall from my bedroom. The washing machine is giant and it’s sitting in the spot where my dad’s workbench was in real life. I put in all of my stuff i want washed – towels, sheets, and clothes. A ton of stuff. The water fills up so much i thought it was going to over flow so i’m scooping some of the water out. After the machine begins agitating i realize i haven’t added soap so i quick open the top and squirt in a bunch of thick yellow liquid detergent. …Something about hanging the clothes to dry instead of using a drying machine. The girl is asking me about every piece of clothing and whether it can hang to dry or needs the machine. She shows me a couple of polo type shirts and i tell her that the shirt part will dry quickly by hanging but the collars will take much longer to dry but it’s okay because i don’t plan on wearing either shirt any time soon. She hands the shirts to her assistant who hangs them up. Then she holds up a dress i used to have and i quickly advise that it’s cashmere and must NOT be put in the dryer. It has to hang dry to keep its shape. I wonder where that dress has been all these years and wonder if it will fit me anymore. That’s all i remember of that dream.
We arrive at The City and it’s very modern and beautiful. It’s kind of terraced or layered so that the first part you come to is “ground level” and sort of a perimeter of park-like grass and trees. Tables are set up and manned by soldiers in brown uniforms. They will check us through. We see soldiers in black standing several hundred feet beyond the soldiers at the tables and decide that those are probably the executioners. We’re glad to note that it appears everybody’s papers have been in order so far because there aren’t any bodies. My group presents our papers and is allowed to continue through the main gate. We enter and are on the first level. It’s very much like a city square. Benches and fountains, trees, storefronts. It all looks very nice but there’s nobody sitting on the benches enjoying the sound of the water and there’s nobody window shopping. It’s just a façade. We continue to the next level and it’s separated by a canal. Here, there are more people and more lines. We overhear an officer berating a woman for something and the next thing we know, he’s flung her over the canal. If she can reach the other side she’ll be okay but the consensus is that she won’t be able to pull herself out of the water once the gets to the other side and is probably going to drown. I’m worried because i don’t know what she’s done to deserve that fate and maybe i’ll be subject to the same.
Scene change. We’re in a room and people are strewn around on the floor. Apparently this is our barrack. It’s just a big empty room in an old house. The floor is nice hardwood. I can see that at one time in the past it was a beautiful home. Probably a governor’s mansion or something like that. Our group is more defined now. There is a young boy, me, two women and another man. One of the women appears to have been a circus performer or acrobat. She’s wearing spandex and has long straight blonde hair. The other woman might be the wife of the man, i’m not sure. Neither of them really stands out to me. The boy is the main character in this part of the dream though. He seems to be around six or seven with golden curls. Like the little prince from the story. He’s young but he’s our leader. A small girl comes in to our group and she approaches the boy. He talks with her a bit trying to get to know her. Apparently it’s a big deal in this world to know who your father is because everything that happens to you, from the job you get to how you’re treated is dependant on knowing who your father is. The little girl doesn’t know and the boy is trying to help her to remember.
Scene change. We’re still the same group but a lot of time has passed. The adults all look the same but the boy is now grown and in his late teens. The little girl is also grown and knows who her father is. So we’re apparently part of an organization that the authorities have been watching for years. We’re subversive and they know it but can’t catch us doing anything wrong. We pull off some ?capers or tasks and the lives we’re leading are getting more and more dangerous. By this time we’re several levels up in the city – maybe fourth or fifth. The city reminds me of an Aztec pyramid but gigantic and city size. We enter a room that seems to not have gravity and we can ‘fly’ (very Ender’s Game) and we see the young girl from our group has reached a balcony on the other side. We decide to make our way towards her but before we can get there, a soldier in black has captured her and takes her away. The acrobat is also caught and taken to be executed. A group of six soldiers in black crush her between two Styrofoam boards and i can hear her screaming to stop because it hurts. Her cries get weaker and i hear her say “I feel my life leaving” and she collapses. The rest of us are terrified and confused. We don’t know what’s happened to the young girl.
Scene change. From the perspective of the young girl. She’s in a room with The General and he’s downloading data from her. It turns out that she is really a cyborg girl and has been planted into the boys group to infiltrate and gather evidence. I’m amazed at the years they’ve invested in the project. The boy is devastated because this was his closest friend and they pretty much grew up together. The soldiers come for the other woman and she too is executed by being pressed between what look like fish nets on frames. She too screams for a while until her life streams out of her.
I can’t remember any more after that so maybe i was the once that was pressed at the end.
Then i fell into a dream and i was doing laundry. I started to use a washer/dryer in the upstairs of the house i was in but realized that the big washing machine was downstairs so i went to use that one. It’s in the basement and i realized i’m in my Manassas house. The laundry room was across the hall from my bedroom. The washing machine is giant and it’s sitting in the spot where my dad’s workbench was in real life. I put in all of my stuff i want washed – towels, sheets, and clothes. A ton of stuff. The water fills up so much i thought it was going to over flow so i’m scooping some of the water out. After the machine begins agitating i realize i haven’t added soap so i quick open the top and squirt in a bunch of thick yellow liquid detergent. …Something about hanging the clothes to dry instead of using a drying machine. The girl is asking me about every piece of clothing and whether it can hang to dry or needs the machine. She shows me a couple of polo type shirts and i tell her that the shirt part will dry quickly by hanging but the collars will take much longer to dry but it’s okay because i don’t plan on wearing either shirt any time soon. She hands the shirts to her assistant who hangs them up. Then she holds up a dress i used to have and i quickly advise that it’s cashmere and must NOT be put in the dryer. It has to hang dry to keep its shape. I wonder where that dress has been all these years and wonder if it will fit me anymore. That’s all i remember of that dream.
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