(2/18-19/06) i don't want to see the insanity; the police must be lying

(NOTE on dream entries -- Some dreams I entered into my paper journal were entered immediately after I woke from the dreams. Some of these dreams may have been written in a "coherent" narrative style. Others were written in an outline style. Earlier on, in 2004, I would flesh out and "analyze" these dreams in my daytime journals. I'm not really sure whether I did the same thing from the dreams I took this method with in 2006 and possibly 2005. Since this blog is dedicated to recording the dreams in my dedicated dream journals, however, I am sticking to the form of the dreams as written in the journals.)

(Entered in paper journal at 11:07 PM at home in Brooklyn -- pretty sure immediately after waking from the dream.)

Dream 1

I sat by a computer doing a project -- radio/computer news -- "fair" in Kmart parking lot -- some area blocked off (by convenience store "van") where strange kid staring.

Later on, still by screen -- kid vanished. Something wrong with place, too, Hearing news as watching live scene of highway in Seattle. Talking of kid, kid probably in Seattle.

cars buzzing along highway. News stranger -- kid maybe insane -- then kid probably stolen by father -- father probably insane -- at first highway on web page, just live photos like on Vail.com website -- now action video, direct -- a car makes a tail of exhaust -- i thought, i could be watching them.

the highway seems closer and closer, until the "camera" is right there -- i click out, think, last thing I need is to get possessed by this madman -- as i click i send a car flying up and back down in Seattle -- the highway now my own -- see, as "radio" narrates, cars driving on grass, grass fields everywhere -- crashing, laying in ruts, broken, crashed cars everywhere -- "radio" narrates this is the junkyard, people come here to wreck their cars.

so now it seems like it should feel safe. But I feel even more afraid. And I still want to change "states" on the website, but I don't want to go to any other state. I'm afraid that the insane man will drive there, too, and possess me. --

Dream 2

(Entered in paper journal at 8:43 AM at Starbucks on 1st Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)

I was with my brother. We were in a big van that I drove.We stopped at the edge of a park, either a city park or a national park. I got out of the van and got back in. I had seen a park house at the top of the hill pretty easily from in front of the van. I was excited to go there. But I knew we had to get somewhere in the van.

I explained this to my brother. He responded positively and said, "Then I'll just spend a minute or two in the park. You can wait idling right here."

Previously we had been in something like a roadside parking area where cars pull in diagonally with the curb.

Now we were on the corner of an intersection. I thought, after a second or two of my brother being gone, Look how happy he was to go. I won't pressure him to leave. I'll pull in and park.

I pulled into a small, half-dirt, half-asphalt parking lot. There were only a few spaces. I parked in front of, i.e. front-to-front with, an army-green car that looked like a police car. I drove a tiny bit too far and ran off the asphalt and onto the dirt -- about a six- or seven-inch drop.

As I was trying to pull back, thinking it wouldn't be impressive to have my car like that in front of a "cop car," a "real" cop car's passengers called to me on a loudspeaker, telling me to pull away from the "cop car" and step out of my van. They thought I was a criminal for whom they had set up this green "cop car" as a decoy. I was already trying to pull back. but the asphalt drop was too steep for me to get up.

I looked back to the "real" cop car. Both cops were half out of their opened doors with their guns ppointing at me. They told me to forget pulling my van back and just to get out of the vehicle. Neither they nor I were sure they wouldn't shoot me, even if I did comply with their orders. They thought I was pretty dangerous.

We sent thoughts back and forth -- some woman had pegged me as a really bad person. I tried to explain (telepathically) that I knew who she was and that she had followed me around, but that I had never done anything bad in front of her. She had posed as a friend.

I thought back through all my memories of the woman, unable to believe the woman could have betrayed me. I tried to figure out whether she was trying to frame me for something she had done. All my memories, though, were of her (a blonde, mousy-looking, lower-middle-class woman, dry-skin-cheeked, worn-eyed) decking herself with household items from bargain stores. During some of my memories, she and I were making movies.

But I had one particular memory of sneaking up and catching the woman by surprise. The woman was decking herself for one of our movies. She was excited about it, but in a calm way. She had rolls of wide, clear tape on her head. She cut the rolls "into shape" with scissors.

I thought, The police must be lying. The woman really liked me and making movies with me. She wouldn't accuse me like this.

(3/9/06) lucid touchscreen cruelty

(Entered in paper journal at 8:02 PM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)

Dream 1

I sat up in my bed. I could hear people from my work talking, and I physically reacted as if they were there -- i.e. I "actively felt" the heard conversation, not moving per se, but "actively feeling."

My old boss PG started calling me a name that sounded like a stock analyst with whom I should have been familiar. A laptop rested on my bed-stretched legs. I typed frantically, trying to get out of one screen and into another. The present screen was peach (?).

Suddenly a woman appeared at the lower right-hand corner of the screen. She was a computer drawing, shown from the shoulders up.

I told myself, This isn't what I'm familiar with at all. Ah... I see. I'm dreaming.

I was lucid. But, I wasn't very surprised by this (as I usually would be on becoming lucid in a dream). It was very easy to relax, so that I would keep my lucid dream stable.

I touched the woman's picture, hoping to "get a message" or "perform some magic." The woman turned into a sharp, crystal-metal skull. I pulled away, trying to avoid the unsavory image and meaning.

I no longer had a body. The computer sat "before" me on the empty bed, at an angle so if I were on the bed, I'd be curled up against the wall.

I tried to make my surroundings change. But the only thing I did was turn the computer screen into a video of a loose classroom of kids who may have been in third grade. The video panned left to right and then right to left. Before it even showed, I knew what it was going to be.

I wanted to be cruel. I swiped my finger across the screen, right where I knew a girl's neck would appear. I hoped my finger would slice the girl's neck. I figured it would, since I was in a lucid dream. But it only made a weird, blood-like impression on the screen when the video turned on.

But I knew I could do something. I stared at the children as the video panned. I focused on making each one so sick he or she would die. And sure enough, by the time the video finished panning from left to right, children were crumpling up with sickness. And as the video panned from right to left, some children were collapsing, falling to the ground. One girl in particular looked at me pleadingly before she fell to the ground.

(9/8/06) the mutant bear-fish's soda commercials

(Entered in paper journal at 8:20 AM at home.)

Dream 1

I was out in a plaza area that seems somehow like a carnival. I saw my boss EB in a black suit jacket and slacks, black tie, white shirt, black sunglasses, talking with a young man sitting on a stool -- like EB was an FBI agent trying to recruit a new agent. But the things EB said sounded like he was interrogating the young man. I thought, I hope the kid isn't afraid he's guilty of something  and end up running off.

My focus faded away toward something like a structure for a merry-go-round. I heard EB say something like "Don't worry. I'll be back. I just have to convince this guy. But he'll come around pretty easy."

I was in "my" bedroom. The room had thin wood walls and thin carpet, but an overall familiar and nice feel. I was happy to be back. But I saw a toy of mine (?), something like a motorized car-toy with big, nubby wheels and a thin, shoe-like, grey white, and yellow body laying on the floor instead of on the coffee table where I'd left it.

I was nervous, worrying about who had been in my room.

I walked into another room, which was "the same room," and saw papers I had left scattered on my bed. The papers were like my thoughts on some creative work I was trying to piece together. I was happy to see it all. I sat down on the bed and tore into the papers.

I was on a lake shore or rather a little bar of land that went into a vast lake. It was trashy, barren land. The lake was kind of dirty. I was with a group like a church group. I felt alone and a little dirty, unkempt.

I saw something weird in the water (I believe we had been looking for weird fish in the water). I walked by myself to the water's edge, to the weird animal. It was like a huge fish with weird "bear lips" sticking out of the water. I backed up and shouted to a suited group-leader (also a "friend"). I was more and more confused and afraid, as if the "bear lips" on the fish body became a shaven "bear head."

The fish was now a bear. It emerged from the lake decomposed and gnarled -- its hair green, its eyes skull-like, its body emaciated. It called (telepathically?) to me, Why are you afraid? Aren't you supposed to be the one close to me? Aren't you supposed to understand me?

It walked toward me and past me. I caught up and followed it like a friend, talking in a puppy-like way, like a twerp would talk to a cool kid.

We were in a small, very private apartment living room. The bear was "filling out" two "advertisements," which kind of looked like SEC reports with a ton of blanks, and empty space between the paragraphs. As you filled in, by deduction, the blanks of these forms/"advertisements," you were informed -- almost downloaded with -- the advertising message of the company. The companies were Pepsi and Coke. The bear liked one, and I agreed -- the messaging hidden in the blanks was much wittier and yet much more easily obtainable.

I and a couple people "continued" our tour through this "beverage museum." We were now in a mock-up of a fast-food restaurant. The person behind the counter (orange counter, garish orange, pink, and purple everywhere, with some flooring and surfaces of a wood-like-textured tile or plastic material) was monotonously blabbing about advertisements on TVs over her head.

I saw one of the advertisements, and yet it was like it was happening right beside me and deep within my mind. People were rushing to a self-serve fountain to get abundances of soda in a quick time. One person filled a flimsy, plastic, 32-ounce cup to overflowing (so the plastic lid kept bubbling and brimming off) with flattish, orange soda.

This weird soda race wasn't a contest or a promotion -- rather, the beverage company was just trying to get people "into the spirit" of drinking more soda more quickly than everybody else they knew, basically to drive sales. The mock-up restaurant was a Dunkin' Donuts, which had been purchased by a big company like Coke or Pepsi.

The next commercial was playing on the "homestyle" attitude of the company (?). The tour guide behind the coutner said, "This is the ad that made the phrase 'Take an hour off' famous."

The ad showed two guys, a manager and an employee, in the back area of a Dunkin' Donuts (which was more like a machine sled or a barn or a garage). The manager knew the employee had his girlfriend outside, waiting. He told the kid, "Go to lunch. And you know what? You can take an hour off."

I knew the really famous part of the commercial was coming up -- though I couldn't remember how it came up. In the famous part, the manager said, "Take two hours off." This was supposed to show, I "remembered," how Dunkin' Donuts's products and practices embodied the sentiment of taking things easy and enjoying the good things in life. I knew what a cheap lie that was. It kind of creeped me out.

I watched the commercial. The manager stood by the door a second after the employee exited. Then he walked out. He saw the employee kissing his girlfriend. He shouted, "Hey!" like he was mad.

The employee turned, shocked and afraid.

The manager said, "Matter of fact, take two hours off. It's on me."

The view cut to a wide shot of the girl, boy, and manager standing in front of a wall of a "red barn," an the manager standing in an open doorway.