Dream 1
I had a white, mucous-like substance forming bumps on the skin of my forearms. I went up and sang with a rock and roll group on some small stage with plain, white lighting. The stage was barely elevated from the floor.
I forgot the words to the song. I left the stage. I sat in a huge, puffy chair with someone, some girl I knew. The chair was velvet and purple.
The bumps had stopped on my arms. But now they came back.
I was in my mom's garage. It was daytime. I saw how the whitish, milky, translucent bumps sank back down into my pores and created huge sinks and pits. I knew the worry was over. I did something else in the garage, but I don't remember it now.
Dream 2
I was in a dim room at a small, dark, wood table with my friend R and his friend KZ. We were playing cards. I made some joke to KZ. He didn't really get it. I walked away and sat on the floor with R, who was just suddenly there. He said something about how he liked my jokes.
The room faded into a pastoral setting a hillside with trimmed grass and a few thick trees. I don't know what two people I was now sitting with. But I got up and walked quickly away when a bee came toward me. It was kind of rough and golden brown yellow. I tried not to act too worried, like I was just going for a short walk.
I walked along the edge of a square that was thickly packed with trees. I walked along a wide strip of short, trampled grass and stones. i went up a slight incline before turning right and walking on a flat surface.
As I walked I heard a strange conversation, which seemed to have been given by two early twentieth-century psychologists. They spoke of a young woman who had acne. One psychologist had determined this acne was psychosomatic, but not in the usual way. The woman chose to eat foods, to force herself into situations where she had to eat foods, which caused acne. The two main foods were green olives and white, dry, crumbly cheese like feta. I'm not sure whether this food physically caused acne or whether this food caused a separate psychosomatic reaction.
I now came to another right turn in this square walk. A much wider, road-like path with a large, green traffic sign went off to my left as I faced the third side of this square. I think I rejected that path because I didn't want people to think I had gotten lost. I got back to the beginning of the square, which was in the center of the fourth side, i.e.
I was now a son for a father who had come to visit. My brother and sister were there. The place was a dark, stage-like room now. My dad was an attractive, healthy, blonde man with blue eyes. He was making arrangements for us to stay at a hotel. I was conciliatory and cheerful. I flopped sideways into a tall, plush, purple velvet chair.
My mom was there. I made some lighthearted joke to her about "my dad." She said something like, "I get that joke. But don't say it too loud. You know how sensitive your dad gets."
I now stood up quickly, like I had been asleep in a room full of friends and had suddenly realized the absence of one of them. I turned around. R's friend SM was there. We had been watching a movie. I felt R had left. I thought I had told some joke R had found insulting and that he'd left. Then I realized I was wrong. I asked SM, "Is he taking out the dog?" She said yes.
Now R came in with the dog. We all turned to watch the TV, which played some episode of M*A*S*H. The view was of a foot that had been blown off the leg of one of the main characters.
We tried to remember, before the reveal, which character had lost a foot. I said, "Maybe Captain XXXXX." This was apparently one of the older men on the show. I wasn't even sure I'd gotten his name right.
Now it was no longer certain whether the man had only had his foot blown off or if his whole body except for this bloody foot on the bed had been vaporized.
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