Dream from February 1, 2014
I see Justin Bieber resting on a chaise lounge in a nice luxurious home with wide open space around him. The floor is made of some refined stone and a swimming pool is seen outside through some sliding glass doors. Bieber is wearing a pair of aviators and has that smug satisfied look on his face.
I think “I wish I had a lot of money like that” and “he’s well off and established.”
A scene involving Karl Childers from “Sling Blade”. First he is sitting on the front steps with a boy and then is in the house with the boy and his mom. While at night, he gets the sick idea of going into the boy’s room and raping him (OK…). He’s at the computer on a card table, shown from the side, and an arc entrance to rooms on both sides is in the near background. Lights are dimmed. Mom goes to tuck the boy into bed. Karl’s got a look on his face of canned excitement and anxiousness. As soon as everyone has gone to bed he’s unleashed into his night stalker mode.
And fortunately, I do not get to see what happens next for I suddenly awake from the dreamscape.
Dream from January 20, 2014
Tonight’s series of dreams was a rollercoaster of a ride. There were lot’s of weird things played out from my memories racing back and forth.
1. I see a blackboard that doubles as a computer screen, set in the tabletop position; a 3D racecar game is being played. One race was lost, another was won, the tracks are very detailed, trees, sky, weather, and all. After the race a top view of the track is shown and the users car is moving around the track.
2. A family has an argument over the board saying it’s been turned into things that are not meant for it. The daughter thinks she should be the next to say what the board should be. The lights turn on and the board turns out to be a white wood table with the chalk marks visible on it. The room seems to be my first bedroom in the Baker St. house, the first room on the left when the house is viewed from the front.
3. Shot of a junky, dusty apartment room, sunlight coming through an open window. A swivel board is standing up on legs.
4. Survivor playing out. Contestants arguing with each other. Shot from the top of a contestant going down a wooden ladder to the island below; water is nearby (an area on Donkey Kong Isle in the “64” game?)
5. Shot of a silver luxury car in a parking lot at night. I want to take turns driving the nice car (a Lexus I think). I climb into the drivers seat (from the backseat) and start to pull out, Jack saying things like “be careful”. Turning the car around, I am rather reckless at first, braking and gasing and swerving, but then I get the hang of it and am pulling out the entrance onto the road – I think out of the laundry mat or Denny’s parking lot. I abbreviated the three pedals (shot of them at my feet). Why there are three I’m not sure.
6. I am in a curving hallway that has walls decorated with pink stuff, walking with a bunch of nurses in scrubs. Jennifer Aniston is there.
7. I am running down a combination of Teft Rd and Erie Rd. at night (from a third person POV, from my back). I have very little clothes on. I make it to the corner of Marietta and the bus comes around and turns onto it. I stop…
8. At a school (Erie Rd. living room) making paper mache stuff, Christmas decorations, what not, (secretly) shooting a video. The lights are off in the living room but on in the dining room which still has that table.
9. I get very attracted to this girl (Andrea from The Walking Dead). I end up having sex with her right there in front of everyone and no one seems to care. It’s actually a shot of a doll getting its panties pulled down and showing its anatomically correct girl part that initiates the scene. “Andrea” kept her shirt on. I think about having a threesome with another girl in a white dress with red polka dots or apples on the skirt portion (That girl from the T-Mobile commercial that stands in the middle?). I pull up her dress and touch her there. I begin pumping my part in front of “Andrea”. She has her mouth open, waiting for me to unload on her. Then it is over and I am cleaning up the place, picking up pennies, nickels, dimes off the floor. As I pick up a penny around a table leg I see Brett Sherwood. Well at least I’m not gay, I think to myself, since Brett kind of thought I was back at the Career Center.
10. Then we are in a science lab that looks like the one either at Baker College or Western HIgh. There are tables with sinks built into them, and cabinets around the walls with counters below. I see Andrea and there is this awkward staring moment because she and I know that what we did is hard to talk about. Then a shot of the class. I’m in the back, looking around autisticly. Then a shot of the TV (from my POV) and the video being played. I am hoping they didn’t film the sex scenes, but that is never found out…
In my mind I was thinking about various people and things that seem to keep popping up in my dreams: Erie Road, Baker Street, schools, girls named Andrea, and other stuff that relates to certain points in my life.
Dream from September 14, 2014
Last night I had one of the most crazy and downright scary dreams in my life. Two people wanted to kill me but I alluded them miraculously. It was so vivid and intense and shocked the hell out of me quite a bit. This is one of the first dreams I had where the “plot” seemed to be consistent throughout the entire sequence.
It all went like this:
Two guys begin to chase the hell out of me and a girl that’s my friend, with guns. It starts out with us running down the familiar long stretch of Erie Road in the countryside. Then we are in a car heading towards a curve and suddenly we end up walking down a busy street, Price Street in Jackson to be exact, on the left side. Turning to the left and walking down Hobart Street we see some guys parked in a VW Beetle on the right and they look in our direction, a malevolent expression instantly appearing on their faces. We hide to the side of a bus parked on the opposite side of the street. For a while we wait there while the men try to figure out where we went to, thinking to ourselves, “They surely wouldn’t think about looking over here by the bus”. After about a minute, we quietly move to the grille of the bus and have a peek around at the VW and then hide again. Then two tall dark figures suddenly appear behind us and we react on instinct, running away down Hobart Street as the mobsters start shooting…
The dream then shifts to where we are in a mobile home park, presumably Arbor Village, where I used to live. One of the men is white; the other looks Mexican/Hispanic. My friend and I are running down the street, the men shooting at us. One guy, the Mexican, runs out of bullets and begins to load another mag, discarding the empty one to the ground. Then it is just me, my partner disappearing. I am now holding a toy ball in front of my face, the kind that retracts into a smaller ball and is made of up of plastic links or some material. I begin to run backwards holding that toy in front of my face for some reason, maybe hoping it will stop a bullet or two from penetrating my skull…
Next, the dream shifts to where we are in Parma Elementary, my old stomping grounds. I’m trying to run backward through the halls with some difficulty, with that same toy, the men just coming after me but not shooting. I look back and see some purple doors and keep backing up until I go into an opening and hit a white brick wall. “Wild Bill” and “Kid Curry” start chuckling, thinking that I am totally screwed and they’ve got me cornered. That’s where they’re wrong. Without hesitation, I instantly make my run, forwards, toy gone, out of the clearing and to the left, running down a hall to another set of purple doors. I stop for a moment at the door on the right, admiring the metal push bar, and look back at the men pursuing me again before turning north, running to and out the playground doors.
I run around the building to the front of the school, quickly hiding behind a car in the back of the parking lot. I thought about running to the forest of trees behind me but was afraid the men would see me. Out of nowhere, my partner suddenly appears again, next to me behind the rear bumper, asking loudly if we should call 911. I tell her to shush and be quiet. The angry men show up at the front of the building, looking around but never find us. And that is where I leave you for this night’s story.
In this dream sequence I was a slim 20 to 30 year old man with a full, trimmed beard. I think I looked like the guy from the Bud Light commercial who thinks it’s good luck to go into the basement to get a beer because his team scores every time he does. I never could tell what the girl looked like and I don’t know why those men were chasing after us. Maybe we owed them some money or did something to greatly upset them. Somehow this relates to a past experience in my life. The retractable ball I knew came from Denny’s long ago when I was about seven or eight years old and they used to provide those for us kids to play with. Hobart Street is where my mom grew up, in a handsome white house on a hill with a garage in back. I assume the two men wanted to back me into a corner and have me breathe my final words before unloading on me but I fooled their plans and made a great escape – which did seem way too easy. An alternate working title for this dream could have been “2 Guns”, from the movie starring Mark Wahlberg and Denzel Washington. I’ve never seen that film so I know this dream had nothing to do with it! I referred to the two men as “Wild Bill” and “Kid Curry” because those were the nicknames of two of the deadliest gunslingers in the Wild West, James “Wild Bill” Hickok and Harvey “Kid Curry” Logan.
Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This
Dream from December 29, 2013
On a warm night in September my dreams take me just outside the decrepit party store in the rundown trailer park of Arbor Village. There is a big rig parked outside it. I believe this place is closed down now. My mind is recalling a memory from long ago.
The sequence cuts to a classic tube TV sitting in a tiny compartment between the cab and the trailer hitch; there is an orange metal bench built into the wall. The television is brown and rectangular with old fashioned channel dials. A heavy set man is sitting on the edge of the bench to my right, crowding me to the outside. I hesitated and then eventually got into the compartment with him, feeling rather uncomfortable. We are waiting for another person to join us…but they never come. There are stereo headphones hooked into the TV that me and the big guy somehow wear at the same time even though the band obviously wouldn’t fit around both of our heads – or maybe they were the earbud kind. I am concerned that the bulky TV will be a problem as the truck is moving and will suck a lot of energy from the battery. The TV moves around freely in its shelf space as it isn’t tied or bolted down. The guy fiddles with the dials on the tube but it is never turned on. I’m not even sure it was plugged in.
The dream leaves the compartment briefly to appear inside a convenience store with a lady behind the counter. She looks like the Venezuelan gourmet chef Lorena Garcia from the Taco Bell commercial for their Cantina Bell menu.
Now cutting back to the truck, it is stopped on the southbound side of a highway. I and some other people I cannot identify since they are blurry are standing about on the road, walking around nonchalantly with no cars or trucks zooming by at all. I take a look at the grassy center divider on the right and walk into it. Seconds later, though, I am waiting to cross back over the road I came from after some cars and a line of people have gone by which includes a short, stout chick from Plasma who always wears a black t-shirt with some rock band logo on it, and my funny, dependable, and sometimes kooky uncle Jack, who is wearing his usual plain dark blue shirt. I eventually cross and hop back in the truck, this time in the passenger side of the cab. I do not know if the fat man is still with me at this point of the dream.
Now it is my mom, dad, and I sitting on the porch of a house somewhere in the rundown slum neighborhood of Jackson. There is a close-up of a dish in my hands called “Internet” (as my inner mind puts it) that I created with ma and pa – why it is called that I do not have the slightest idea (maybe it has to do with the Internet being out at my house for about a week and the frustrating, impatient longing for it to work again). The dish is a sort of taco or nacho supreme bowl with veggies and meat piled together. There is a tetherball swinging from the porch ceiling . I eat most of the “Internet” meal, leaving a small portion for sister Emily. I hear myself say “It’s great to live the life” and then think but it won’t last forever. Dad gives me a concerned look as I wolf down the cheesy dish. The porch is very similar to the one belonging to the house on Baker Street in Spring Arbor, where I used to live.
Dream from December 25, 2013
The night begins with my dad driving me around in his blue mini-van to either pick up some transcripts for college or get resumes for a job (I’m not sure which but my inner thoughts seem to centered around both). We stop at Jonesville High School, a small brown building in front of a small parking lot. It feels like early winter with a bit of light snow on the ground.
I’m in the passenger seat, waiting for dad to come out of the school, and then suddenly I’m in the back seat on the left side near the window. My sister Liz is driving the van, only she is on the right side as if in England and isn’t actually using the steering wheel since it’s still on the left side. She proceeds to “drive” through a dense forest in the pitch black of night.
I frantically ask Liz, “Why did you leave dad behind?”. She doesn’t answer but continues on her wild rampage, cutting through trees and causing an uproar with the wildlife. I tell her that we should turn back and have a apprehensive feeling about venturing into this forest in the dead of night. What if we break down or get stuck? What if we get eaten by a pack of hungry wolves? Wolves are indeed involved. As we are barreling through the terrain, a couple of Siberian huskies graze the side of the van, which from the outside looks more like the Winnebago from Breaking Bad. The view alternates between the outside view of the side of the vehicle near the rear wheel base and my point of view from inside. A couple more wolves hit the vehicle and I am getting worried that they will eventually break the windows and get inside. Their faces are illuminated by the van’s headlights and if you were expecting them to look fierce and deadly that would not be the case. These huskies actually looked harmless with no intent of making us their next meal. Maybe that’s because they didn’t realize what was happening or maybe this is just a thing about the dream where two things from two different memories, the van and the wolves, clash with each other and are not connected at all.
1. I see myself riding along with my dad because he has now become a more prominent part of my life and has been trying to instill some confidence in me while advising me on ways to find a job. Some long frozen over ice has been broken here in the last few months; I feel like I can relate to him on a more personal level than before because I get to see my dad more often now.
2. I don’t know why we stop at Jonesville High School, or whatever school it actually is, but I’m thinking that because I knew two girls that went there and they were a major focal point of my memory (still quite are, I hope I’m not a stalker), that school name has become so synonymous with them that it would become an often randomly accessed memory.
3. Liz pops up in this brief adventure because I think there is a small part of my mind that longs for her to be here with the fact that she is living close to 600 miles away and I have only seen her once in the last few months. Everyone else in my family misses her as well.
4. I see Liz apparently as a crazy driver with no bearings because that is how I have always known her while we were growing up. Liz was always different and did lots of weird and wacky things, such as stealing a “WET PAINT” sign and hanging it up in her room, that made us laugh, made us scratch our heads, and sometimes made us worry about her.
5. There is no dialogue from Liz in this dream and that might relate to the fact that we never had much conversing between each other. She seems to be in a distant world when I try to ask her questions like I or she is not actually there. I see her with her familiar stretchy pink shirt on and she has that yummy ice cream hairstyle of a mix of orange, pink, and white just stopping above her shoulders.
6. Perhaps there is someone driving the van but the dream is not focused on that particular detail. A ghost driver or dark escort. It might not actually be a forest we were crashing through but just the familiar long strip of Erie Road in Parma I have traveled on so many times.
7. The wolves, or just friendly dogs, relate to the fact that there is a Siberian husky always sitting on the red porch of a person’s house where I live. Most of the time when I walk by I see that dog and it captures my attention, it seeing me and just staring back with the innocent eyes of it’s friendly face. That’s why I see multiple images of the same dog in my vision. It’s merely a memory.
8. The side view of the van turned Winnebago is a familiar scene from the pilot of Breaking Bad when Walter is driving the RV like a madman through the desert, fearing that the police are after him as he has just started cooking meth with burnout Jessie Pinkman.
The following series of dreams happened during the last part of 2013, around November and December…
In a store like school that looks like my local Meijer or Walmart, I’m frantically running through a deli section. I try to skip lunch and see a few teachers that do not notice me…
In a huge dining hall with big, tall windows, I see a table with Kim Kardashian and someone she is dating – Kanye West perhaps – seated there. My unpredictable dream self sits down at that table but quickly moves somewhere else because he feels uneasy about sitting with celebrities. So dreamscaper Matt sits down at another table with some stupid, irrelevant person who is probably someone he knows but can’t figure out. Red carpet covers the whole of this room, lots of natural sunlight shining through the magnificent, black framed windows as tall as a cathedral. In only a couple of seconds this is gone.
Next, I find myself at Western High School, walking down the senior hallway and around the corner leading to the cafeteria. The corners of my vision see the lockers by the cafeteria, before it was remodeled into the state-of-the-art state it is now (everything always gets better after I leave). As I am walking around the corner, I have thoughts of West Middle School in Ypsilanti on my mind, reliving the bad days, memories of when I was a 12/13 year old, kids laughing, poking fun at my looks and apparent disabilities. I’m all alone, walking a lonely path, which is a comfort to me since I can bask in my thoughts. The dream fizzles out.
A few days later comes a story about a boy named Matt or Dave. He is sitting in an assembly chair on stage in the front row of the auditorium at Western High. But then the dream quickly shifts to my old room at Erie Road in Parma (another reference to an early childhood home that seems to be very special to me). A piece of a rubber tire from a white van sitting in the adjacent driveway gets stuck in the bedroom window frame, somehow still connected to the vehicle in an impossible way. Mischievous Matt pulls on the rubber tread, stretching it, and causes the wheel to fall off the van outside on the driveway. “It’s junk anyways”, Matt says, seeing the van now lying crooked on three wheels. The owners come by and look at their wrecked vehicle. Matt’s friends come into his room and look through the window. Matt closes the blinds just a peek. “Shhh”, he says with a finger to his lips, wanting to be as quiet and unassuming as possible about this.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I am walking down the high school hallway again, being the popular kid, with everyone gasping and eyeing me like I’m a famous celebrity, especially girls. This is the polar opposite of how I was feeling a while back – depressed and lonely. Kind of like the end of Titanic, where everyone is clapping uproariously at Jack and Rose as they kiss at the top of the staircase and the camera pans up to the iconic glass ceiling before fading out – moments before they had been involved in an epic tragedy and now are experiencing an uplifting, but cliché, ending. Through thick and thin we’ve fought and now the light at the end of the tunnel has finally been reached. That’s how my dream translates to real life.
My December ride crashes in on an evil empire springing up on a desert like planet, much like Tatooine in Star Wars. A little guy flies by to his own planet and sees the big bad empire nearby. “Some evil empire I have”, he says, as the bigger one dwarfs his. The little guy is one of the minions from Despicable Me.
Another shift to the real world has me in an aisle at the store looking for Spongebob Squarepants stuffed toys. There are many varieties and assortments, such as ones with big vampire teeth. I buy one that is a little bigger than the one I already have – 38 x 23 inches, which is pretty big but that’s what my head said. Uncle Jack says, “Now you buy one of these and someday it’ll be worth some money someday. When the show is over people are going to want that stuff”. Really.
I’m on iTunes, so tired that I am changing names of songs to unrecognizable, ridiculous titles. Some are incomplete or messed up already, so I make them whatever I want. James Blunt’s “Beautiful” becomes “Say Anything”, which is actually the name of a band that I have a song from on there, “Baby, I’m A Blur”, which was featured in Breaking Bad.
Now I’m singing a song, one that I wrote called “Still A Chance For Me”, until people show up. I get discouraged and sing quieter and then stop completely.
A brief moment in an arcade room. Zeke, a tall, lanky, idiotic kid from my past with a beak nose, is there playing a shooting game. He looks in my direction.
I see a bus full of screaming kids, going on about voting or something. Then there are some kids on a island, with the viewpoint coming in from the water near the shore (this might come from me standing in the shallow end of Portage Lake, taking video/pictures of the shoreline).
I have long golden hair and am admiring myself in the rear view mirror of my mom’s white Ford Taurus, sitting in the back seat.
Ben Linus from Lost is running in a race.
And to finally top it off, I see my deceased aunt Janet smiling – that same evil, scheming smile that told me and everyone else she could never be trusted.