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|Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009|
|Only one left
We were preparing something and something went wrong and covered the area with thick white foam. I saw it coming and managed to cover myself with a black sheet and give myself breathing room and then dug my way out. Most people didn't make it, though. I dug some out...I gave CPR to dolls and some of them came back to life. "Plastic people are easier to get going again," I said.
I was being given a ride to my friend's and we entered a school. I thought I saw people I knew toting things out from a building to cars but I wasn't sure. While wandering around the grounds we were looking in old buildings and found old sections underneath the current school...a ruined old gym level with a tennis court. Someone wanted to close and lock the door, but there were still people inside, so I put myself in the way of the door and called for someone to help and for the people inside to come out. Finally they came out, but one girl who had wandered very far off into the darkness came back not right. And another girl came out that we didn't know at all. What they had they spread by touching other people. There was a specific number of times someone had to be touched to change, and maybe something else too, like a kiss. You couldn't tell who had been infected, necessarily. There was a piece of paper controlling the curse, and I managed to figure out where it was, hidden secretly in the top of a drawer, where I dug it out, throwing things at zombies to keep them away all the while, with my friend helping. But then I wasn't sure what to do with the paper to end the curse. Should I destroy it? Do something else? I tried lightly burning the edges, while watching the zombies to see if there was a change. My friend who was with me blew on my hand, and my finger turned black and I knew he was one too and couldn't help me, but he was trying not to hurt me either, and he turned and walked away. I woke up still wondering what the answer was.
|Thursday, April 16th, 2009|
I and my boyfriend, a well-intentioned banker, are somewhere in Africa as he sets up banks for poor farmers. I have a vision of something going horribly wrong and everybody dying and try to warn him, but he doesn't listen. I help him with the bank, which involves a lot of animals, trying to think of a way to save everyone. But there is a flood and everyone dies, including him. I set the place on fire to give the bodies a proper cremation.
I am in a large warehouse filled with food, trying to decide what to eat. One of my friends asks how I am and I say 'well, I killed my boyfriend today.'
We are superheroes going to a meeting at some facility. I share the elevator with a mother and her two young daughters. I am worried that someone without good intentions is following us...I warn the children of a monster. In an office high in the building, the littlest daughter shows some of what she can do. She can't speak yet, but she can communicate through moving objects with her mind. Someone wants to take her away and she is knocked unconscious. I pick her up and get her breathing again, and insist that anywhere else she goes, she goes with me.
Someone has been accused of a crime, but they didn't do it. Perhaps a shapeshifter is at work. I try to prove that he is not at fault by inviting some people to a warehouse.
There is a massive amount of people coming. Someone gets scratched. Someone else tells her she has been infected by a werewolf. They are going out to hunt. I warn her not to trust them...they may themselves be wolves, and insist on going along.
|Sunday, September 28th, 2008|
|Not my life
Walking along a street in a downtown area we see a plane coming in low. Too low. It bounces off the top of a tall building and then flips and dives nose first into the top of another. The building shudders and collapses as we watch in horror. I am on my cell phone, calling 911. The woman I talk to seems to have already gotten the message, but also seems strangely unconcerned, like I am wasting her time. We rush the few blocks over to the building. Three cop cars are parked near by and the cops have surrounding the area with yellow tape and are talking on their radios, but don't seem to be *doing* anything. People are stumbling out of the main entrance, dazed. I avoid looking too closely at the feet I can see sticking out from the rubble. That anybody at all survived is amazing. We try to help but are uncertain what we should do - what is helpful, what is advised, what is safe. We start by just lifting up the caution tape for the survivors to duck under, but eventually venture inside, trying to encourage people not to try to go back upstairs for that thing they need - their computer, their briefcase, their wife.
In a temporary apartment in a large building, I am taking care of three kids that aren't mine - young kids but not babies, maybe in in the 5 to 10 range, two boys and a girl. The two boys, Ryan and Brad, go off to sleep easily, but the girl, Samantha, wants a story read to her. I am concerned about the front door I can't get to latch. There's a creepy guy in the building, who has been leaving the kids presents, and I don't want him getting in while we sleep. I try lots of things - removing some stuff that's blocking the latch hole, tying it closed with some ribbon, realigning it... it is being very difficult. I keep Samantha distracted by asking her which story she wants. Some neighbors come by, with a surprise 'Happy Birthday!!', but I don't have a lot of time for that right now. I explain my issue to them and inquire if they could help. Later I find the Asian couple in the kitchen trying to reassemble furniture and get annoyed. I don't care about that, I care about the door! I also keep finding little signs that Creepy Guy is spying on us. Finally I manage to get the pieces of the door fitting together properly. I hope it holds and go to read the poor kid a bedtime story. Current Mood: concerned
|Saturday, September 6th, 2008|
Some sort of family reunion or party, but I'm not sure what Family. Possibly elves. Lots of people, and we were at a place on a lot of land. While watching some dog-cat drama, I looked out the window and everyone was exiting the main building where things were happening. Having some sort of responsibility, I went to find out what was going on. Turns out some guards thought we didn't have permission to be there, despite this having been in the works for months. While people stood around and talked, the movie to accompany the main presentation played inside to nobody. Or almost nobody...I sneaked in, and it turned out that I wasn't the only one. But then we were discovered and kicked out again.
But now there was something really important we needed to do inside. So we formed a plan and sneaked back in again. We thought we were safe, but one guard was sitting silently watching us. I tricked her into thinking that if she didn't let us go, something bad would happen.
But they were already thinking bad things of us. They had maps and plans of the targets Harry Potter and the Narnia Liberation Front planned to hit and where the bombs were hidden, and were busy trying to dig them up and disarm them. Including the swimming pool, where there was a talking fish. I tried to convince them it was just a joke, none of our people would do something like that, but someone really was trying to blow things up. They blow up the pool. I manage to save the talking fish.
Sneaking back in again. Again with the guard catching us, because I kept forgetting to check that one spot. Showing her on the blackberry where the bombs were hidden, now with more urgency. She believes us. But her fellow guards are coming, even though she radios them and tries to mislead them so they will stay away. We hide, behind a not very substantial wall, barely breathing. I see one of our compatriots across the way, and strangle my cry for her to come hide with us - she has already passed over, it is only her ghost I see. She cannot be harmed - but she can still talk, and the guard we are hiding from strikes up a conversation with her. It is only a matter of time before he looks around and sees us in our hiding place. Finally his blue green eyes meet mine, and we are booted out again.
Streaming out of the bookstore, I see the bomber. One of the staff, earlier helping 'dig up' bombs, he has secretly been planting one. And now there is one in the bookstore. But there is nothing we can do. He hurries out the door. My friends amble in the other direction, not the walk of people trying to escape a bomb, until I communicate with them, and they straighten their jerkins and walk with purpose. I wonder if the security tapes will show this, later. Because I know we will be blamed. And in some ways we blame ourselves, for not being able to save them. We hurry into our closets and out the portals to home. Current Mood: regretful
|Friday, September 5th, 2008|
Some sort of party. Goths walked around on top of tables. Some reporter was trying to interview us. I cuddled in the corner with some friends, including edwards
, and Jennie.
|Thursday, September 4th, 2008|
Apparently when the CIA wants you as an agent, they don't take no for an answer. Hence I had a gentleman and a hot chick trying to kill me. I killed the guy back, three or four times, but he wouldn't stay dead.
|Wednesday, September 3rd, 2008|
Home on a trip, I am hanging out in my mother's sewing room. I see a book about dragons in a plastic bag full of stuff that looks interesting and investigate. The book has a mysterious inscription, and as I delve further into the contents of the bag, laying papers out on the ironing board, I begin to piece together a tale I had never suspected, of my mother as a young woman, engaged to be married, and then, due to some uncertain occurance, sent to jail. Here are notes, here is a wedding invitation, handmade and playful (not like the mother I know at all), here are letters. And then I suspect she may be returning, and I scoop everything back into the bag and sit back in a chair, pondering.
I am a small child, in a rustic house I know as home. A traveling salesman comes by and my mother, dressed in oldfashioned clothes, greets him. He has some glass bowls he thinks she might like, but they are stained with what looks like chocolate. I am nervous, for it seems like perhaps there is a trick here, that something is more wrong with the bowls than it appears. She pours some boiling water into them to begin to loosen the crud, and turns away to put the kettle back on the stove. Suddenly, the water in one of the bowls coalesces into a large ball, shooting out of the bowl to dash against the floor near me as I leap back out of its reach. There is a commotion that involves our smaller orange cat, and then my seemingly unruffled mother is assuring me that everything is ok, it's all over now. Meanwhile the salesman has slipped out, and looking out the window, I see our orange kitten has gone with him, looking out the passenger side window of his wagon. Somehow I know that the kitten will take care of the larger problem. My mother sighs and mops up the water.
Other mysterious things are occuring in the house. In the middle of the night things move by themselves. We have a bodyguard, a young woman in black, but she can't be everywhere always. And we still have the large orange cat. I wear a coat that is supposed to protect me. At one point the bodyguard takes the coat from me and wraps it around an unmoving orange cat body. The cat turns into a longhaired brown cat, full of life. I am suspicious, but the rejuvenated cat seems ready to protect us. Meanwhile this household is also preparing for a wedding, which in this case apparently means sewing clothes for the entire wedding party, 747 strong (someone interrupts to correct that we also need robes for the 19 religious soldiers so more than that) I am beginning to gain an understanding of this odd family of witches I live in, and I begin to wonder if anyone is going to train me to defend myself from this attack we are under at any point, but I am young and they continue to try to keep it from me.
|Wednesday, August 27th, 2008|
I enter the lobby of a hotel, or apartment building, on my way to see some friends. Suddenly, the cirque begins - trapeze artists fly across the vistas of the lobby, from balcony to balcony. Interesting things are going on everywhere - I try to get the best view. Later, we are sitting around in a nook in the lobby. erith is babbling about something, and stuart tells him he should shut up, and I say that actually I was interested, but he leaves anyway.
|Sunday, July 27th, 2008|
I was living with my aunt, and somehow the cat got into the birdcage. Cue cat mouth trying to get unpleasant feathers out, and three ex-birds. Sorrow. But what are you going to do, she's a wild animal. I was petrified to tell my aunt but I did anyway, and then buried the remains in the backyard. My aunt wanted me to know that I needed to start paying rent soon.
Waiting for a train, crowded platform. One special girl had her own waiting area, with a sign. She had a t-shirt that said 'I'm LeAnn!' I wasn't sure why she was special; the old couple I was waiting with said she was a spokesperson for the train companies commercials, but that she was only 14 and the fame was warping her young mind. A young person nearby confirmed that, rather than the picture of wholesomeness, she was a stuckup bitch. She stood waiting for the train, seemingly smiling and happy, all by herself.
|Tuesday, May 30th, 2006|
In my dream last night I was attending some invitation only political affair. I was, of course, naked. I left and stole a boat. On my way I came across Santa Claus's crashed sleigh. Toys were strewn across the snow, and there were no signs of life in man himself. Later, we sailed across the rippling night sky. 'I hope you know where you're going,' I said, 'because all I see is stars.'
|Saturday, December 24th, 2005|
Instead of letting you go, they tossed you off a high balcony. I tried to save the girl with the baby. I screamed and cried. Later, while we were trying to escape the bomb, we drove the jeep across an area covered in burlap. I heard the sickening crunch of bones under us but I didn't tell the others what they were. We thought we'd stopped the bomb timer, but it went off anyway and caught us in the cgi blast.
|Thursday, December 22nd, 2005|
"There are presents under my christmas tree that no one in my family recognizes or knows how they got there. Has someone been prowling our house while we were asleep?"
We refer you to paragraph 24b of our terms of service. We do not involve ourselves in Santa's existence or lack thereof, nor are we to be held responsible for his gift delivery service. We merely manage his backend naughty and nice database. For more information, please contact the north pole directly."
|Sunday, October 10th, 2004|
A school. My parents are visiting. Long crooked halls. "This way out goes by the boy's dorm, so I like to go that way when possible." Plywood ramps. Trees. Jumping off a short ledge because there end up not being any stairs. Wondering where my dad got off to.
A coworker has said she'll spring for breakfast if anyone wants some and someone else has been sent. I want a granny smith apple and a bagel with cream cheese. I'm told someone else will have to get the cream cheese later. Someone ( a guy) has shown up naked. (This is in the house I grew up in.) He is playing a game for his soul, loses, and disappears. I point out to the other guy that this means he's assured of getting into heaven. The time comes for me to play a game for my soul. It's a different game than the other. There are many round black and red disks. There are stickers to put on things. There are complicated rules, mostly involving the time alloted for various things. Within two moves we have forgotten a rule and my opponent loses, or maybe me, but nothing happens. She walks down the stairs at the school.
|Sunday, September 26th, 2004|
Three nights back, the night after my birthday, held anxiety dreams: nakedness in public places, the house (my parents house) burning down destroying my computer, trying to help some abused scarred up kids escape their violent mom.... Not so good.
Two nights back, amazing stuff. A stunning eclipse of the moon, time travel, teleportation through outer space including floating weightless in a nebula.
|Wednesday, September 22nd, 2004|
Across from my house is a BART station (public transit). On weekends they hold a flea market in the parking lot. It is raucous and there is always a drum circle.
In my dream, the flea market had been canceled for the day, and the parking lot was near dead empty. We stood looking down through the fence at the man playing piano in the center. Scheduled performance art. The woman with me was upset because she was supposed to be performing now as well, simultaneously, but things had been changed on her. Instead of the piano playing man, there was supposed to be a woman quilting. "I can't work with him!" she complained. "He makes noise!"
|Wednesday, September 15th, 2004|
A stone bowl, carved and filagreed, full of fruit. I am carrying it around the pool to give it back to the artist who made it. I haven't taken very good care of it, and I feel bad. One side is faded and there is a chip in the rim. He tells me it's all right and, removing the fruit, places it back on the table to sell. I stare into its empty inside.
At a bar, downstairs from our apartment, after finding out it has been robbed for a second time, and nearly everything taken. Two male roommates are talking about how one caught the robber in the act and got in a few good shots, rescuing a few items. Including some optical lenses of a certain size. "If we just had a scope they would fit," he says, "that would be really cool." The girl roommate, mousy hair and glasses, says, "Oh, like a..." and reels off some technical dimensions. "Yes!" he says. "We did," she says, and downs her shot.
I am crossing a freshly manured field, barefoot. There is a pit, a cellar or something in the ground. I think a girl may be stuck inside. I see eyes, but they are only black cats.
An upstairs room, old wood floor. Below, men in suits, smiling. We have passed some test. We, a crowd of young people in oldfashioned clothing, are celebratory. A song is started, in hushed tones: we are not supposed to sing. It is in another language, Hebrew perhaps, and we have not sung in a long time and must help each other with the words. A girl in her high spirits climbs onto a window ledge and falls out the window. She is badly hurt, maybe killed, and our singing is blamed. Current Mood: regretful
|Monday, September 13th, 2004|
|writing on the wall
I was going to Boston for a business trip. I was informed of this in a living room much like my own, but larger and more comfy. I needed to leave my cell phone number for my roommates, but was having difficulty. Not because the numbers slipped and wouldn't hold still, like some people describe happening in their dreams, but only because the whiteboard marker was almost out of ink. Numbers are a part of my dreamscape.
|Thursday, September 9th, 2004|
A cafe. The cafe did not have real solidity, it was merely the archetype of cafe. During the course of the dream there were booths, overhangs, padded stools, hallways, checkerboard floors, and backrooms. We were there a very long time, until after closing, tucked away from whatever business the cafe had. (Although when I went outside briefly, the sun was still shining.) Towards the end, we were kicked out of our room for a bit so a children's dance class could be held there. Current Mood: loved
|Monday, September 6th, 2004|
Apparently, when I'm off of work and my boss is out of town, he feels the need to show up and nag me in my dreams.
|Sunday, September 5th, 2004|
There was much tumultousness. It left me seated on a picnic bench in a city park, with a thin dark man who held me captive. It was bright and sunny and there were others of my enemy scattered around. I sat very still. A van pulled up, full of friends and strangers, there to rescue me. There was yelling, but I ended up in the van without a fight. I was introduced to those I didn't know, dreadlocked hippies and a girl from Hawaii.
Later, we were in a warehouse, echoing concrete. I was introduced to a Korean man named Devlin (aHAH, I have just now figured out where this came from...Jackie Chan movie The Tuxedo. random brain.) who leaned very very close to me, cheek to cheek, speaking directly in my ear, and said important things I can't remember. Current Mood: secretive