#30 – Sign of the Apocalypse

Dream from January 17, 2016

I am returning home from school on the bus. This is probably from elementary school because it looks to be early 2003 and it’s the Erie Road country home I’m at (mentioned in previous posts).

I get off through the bus door that is on the opposite side of the street where the woods are and the wild things are at. Without any trouble or arguments, I walk across the street (the bus driver, Mrs. Husselgrave, used to get mad at us kids for crossing the road without waiting for her signal) to the blacktop driveway. There is another bus parked in the woods area to the right of the blacktop and when I try to walk into the driveway, it starts to come toward me quickly, nearly running me over. Then I see and hear mom say to the bus driver, “I told you”, reminding her that I must have done this multiple times in the past. Really. You were coming towards me without warning – what was I supposed to do? And why are you parked there anyway? Wow, I sound like the CinemaSins guy now.

I get to the familiar set of concrete/plastic front steps, which now has this metal mesh ramp attached over the steps now. I eye it curiously as I bound over it, thinking that it’s for the cat or for someone with a wheelchair.

So I go inside through the open door and immediately see a haggard looking cat, its fur around its head all puffed up and patchy. The ceiling fan is going. It seems to be rather smoky in the house (maybe from something cooking in the kitchen).

I walk down the familiar hallway to the left and see another cat, which is obviously Goldie from the present but he looks worse for wear with his fur all lost and looking scraggly. His ears are bent back and he looks angry. When I try to pick him up, he hisses and growls at me. I walk back down the hallway, where my old room is on the right, my two sisters rooms are next to each other on the left, and a bathroom is on the right (CCR, anyone?), and into the main part of the house that is divided between a family room and a living room.

This is where I used to live many years ago but it looks like an apocalypse hit it and everything has really taken a turn for the worst. Then I think of the “Rebel School” from Star Wars I could have attended, seeing the application paper in my head and I hear mom sarcastically say under her breath, “that rebel school you could have gone to”, with a laugh from uncle as if that’s never going to happen now. I’m eleven years old. There’s still a lot of time for you to ship me off to some school set in a fictional world.

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#23 – Somersaults to Pinstripes

Dream from January 28, 2014

I am in a small clearing at the back of a building and there are a couple of guys doing somersaults, rather impressively. I think music is playing. One guy somersaults all the way down the alley or a dim enclosure (that small narrow area in the back of Connie’s dance studio?)

I wish I could somersault. Then one guy asks if I want to try. He says the guys will not send the photos they take of me (since I would probably look ridiculous). I see an X marked in chalk on the pavement and an iPhone near it, standing up.

Then I am getting a bike from a shop and begin pushing it down the sidewalk on the long Spring Arbor Rd. The bikes falls, I struggle to pick it back up. Then I am at this house with an enclosed porch around it, made of wood. It has a diamond design skirt near the foundation. There are other bikes in the yard. I hear and see a beautiful Southern girl singing in the yard. She is looking in my direction, intently. I climb up the stairs onto the porch. Then something happens and a wooden rail appears. I drop a nail and get down on my knees to pick it up from around the wooden rail, that looks just like the skirt of the house. The Southern girl sings and looks at me again. I try not to ignore her and try to acknowledge her. I see hope in her eyes; she seems to like me and impresses me with her voice; maybe there’s a future between us. Maybe she’ll get on a talent show and become famous.

In my house. I see that the big entertainment stand and flat screen TV are gone. Now it is a bigger flat screen resting on a table but then that turns into the big CRT from my bedroom. I see Liz and say, disappointingly, “Oh, so we switched TVs”.

An interesting show is being shown on CBS. I watch it and think it is “Intelligence” but seems to be even better than that. A breath of fresh air. In the corner is the CBS eye logo with giant block letters “BB” over it, flashing and spinning. I then think the show is “Almost Human” because I see the guy who plays the lead character, Karl Urban. He’s in tactical gear and going into a room aiming a laser rifle.

In the old cruddy house on 2411 Hickman Rd in the afternoon, by myself. I am walking around thinking about East Circle Drive and Grandma Hammell going there to visit. Then about mom and dad saying they were on the Price is Right and winning a dream home. Then my cousin Colleen is shown on there. I hear her talking about herself to the host (Bob Barker or Drew Carey, don’t know). She sounds sweet with a chipmunk voice. Says she went to North Carolina University. Then about income or something and a final amount in the decimal places of 124. She and everyone else laughs. I look into the living room with the TV and everything. I briefly see Jack on the couch over by the “farm” door, both knees on the cushion and arm stretched out on the top, but then he disappears.

I walk around in the back room and then to the phone in the kitchen. I pick up the phone, dial a few numbers, and then put it back on the receiver. I am wondering if I will end up someplace else or go back in time. A sense of euphoria rushes over me. Stepping outside onto the stone porch I see that everything is about the same. All I have on are my boxers. I managed to pick up a thin dress shirt from somewhere, the one with the pinstripes. I run around to the front of the yard, putting the shirt on but not buttoning it. Starting to run up the two lane driveway I notice something that slows down my pace. There are giant stone fountains and statues in the middle of the two lanes, where grass usually is, and trees have been torn down. I think “wow, she fixed up the place” and then looking behind me at the usual mess, “or is getting it fixed up”. I am referring to Colleen in this sense, thinking she is the one living at the house. I realize it must be the future.

Switching to third person view, I am in the side yard almost near the entrance to the road. A red car begins to come around the back of the house from where I came out of. I see it and try running to the left towards a bush but struggle to run like I am in molasses and something is pulling me back. The car starts to turn up the driveway and I am forced to stand there and watch as the old woman in the car looks my way. I figure that if I am caught I will be in big trouble but then I mysteriously disappear, leaving the old women thinking “What the hell?”

#22 – The Run and Hal

Dream from January 20, 2014

My swirling vortex of thoughts now places me just outside the window of a friend’s house…

I am recording a message coming from the inside on a device I have in my hand. Then the signal stops and the friend notices, closing the curtains. He lives right near the street in a small house with white paneling on the outside. I start running down the sidewalk through the trailer park, a mix of Windham Hills and Circle Drive, naked – making running faster – like the first humans that walked the earth.

Suddenly, it’s the dead of winter, snow covering everything except the freshly cleared paved roads. I run around a white van parked by the sidewalk on the right, workers noticing me, reacting as I thought they would, with looks of shock and confusion. Running, jumping over a mud pit or trench that is shaped in a circle, which turns out to be a sewer line that is being dug up and excavated. Construction workers are nearby. I run through the grass, race home, bound up steps, and Google ‘electric organs’ after I hear someone talking about them. Since I have an actual electric organ at home, this makes sense.

My December ride then crashes in on a familiar TV world. Bryan Cranston as Hal is trying to impress his wife and family. He has that look of confusion on his face – “Ohhh”, he mumbles. Hal is trying to cook a soufflé type dish. He tries to transfer it to another dish, but it crumbles and falls over. Hal has an apron and oven mitts on – a cross between meth cooker Walter White and his buffoon counterpart from Malcolm in the Middle.

Later on, Hal’s head is seen on the floor and gets kicked by wife, Lois. Presumably he got killed and the rest of his body was turned into a cake that the family is eating for dessert. The cake is sitting on an island in the kitchen; Dewey takes a slice.

Lois just painted the neighbor’s house but now it’s back to the old way again – “Now it’s that cruddy green again”, Lois says, in her typical tone of disapproval. The house, set in a suburban neighborhood, has wooden paneling on the outside. A voice tells me that the neighbors are probably the ones who killed Hal. A glimpse inside their house shows a small, dimly lit, smoky room, tinted green, fan going, small rectangular window up high, someone sitting at a computer on a card table, people standing behind him. Like a creepy nerd’s lair whose only connection to the outside world is contained in the bright, basking glow of an outdated machine.

Back in normalcy at home, I brush my teeth and wash my mouth out with Pine-Sol (?), feeling afraid of swallowing it. I get a hotdog from the kitchen and eat it in bed, which is exactly what I have done in real life.

#19 – Light and Dark

Dream from January 10, 2014

This next set of dreams featured both happy and gloomy memories from my past – and also one of my first instances of lucid dreaming…

A more darker moment sees myself sitting in a car on the Baker Street driveway late at night in Spring Arbor. It is an old Buick that my mom briefly had from John, a person whom she was seeing for a while but is now more of a friend (he’s married to someone now). It was a hunk of junk and broke down not long after it was used. I am sleeping face down in the passenger seat, as if I am crazily drunk. “Dad”, who looks like Ted Beneke from Breaking Bad, comes out of the Baker St. house.

Then I am inside the house, going into my room down the hallway on the right. Around the “L” shaped corner of the room on the left, I see my bed made with a sign on the end board that reads, “God gave us Christ’s child”. Wow. What a message to see in my dreams. That’s surely a sign (no pun intended). That never existed there in real life so something truly remarkable is going on here.

Shortly after this revelation, I grab a pen and start to write down the dreams I am having, but this turns out to be a dream (it comes from me trying to recall my dreams while I am still sleeping and how I am going to write down them down on paper once I awake – which is lucid dreaming because I am fully aware and in control of what is going on).

More from my high school…

I am attending a play or dance recital, sitting in the front row of the auditorium near the railing on the right. My dad comes by (not Ted Beneke) to pick me and my sisters or something special up, I’m not quite sure. Someone is expertly showing off their Beethoven skills on stage.

The curtain closes and the black dressed ballerinas exit stage left.

Curtain opens again and white dressed ballerinas have taken the stage. Interesting. It’s like evil turning to good.