Your (Non-ILX) Dreams

This probably doesn't sounds as anxiety-inducing as it was.

1) I was working at some kind of "information-kiosk" in the city, which looked like a hot-dog cart. A seemingly crazy and sinister man in a trenchcoat came to the kiosk and kept saying "Get me Jack Ruby's gun. I need you to get me Jack Ruby's gun." I was very frightened by this.

2) I was walking around in a high school, though I wasn't actually "back in high school" or anything. Suddenly, a skinny indie-rock dude jumped down from the rafters and made like he was going to beat me up. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" I said, "I'm not even IN high school!" He backed off.

i just fell asleep and in my dream i was walking down the street (home for the weekend while spending the summer in russia) and i saw a girl that was in a dream of mine about a year ago: in that one we were at a movie and she came up and asked to sit next to me because the guy she was there with was acting creepy. this time i introduced myself to her and she remembered me. that's about it... but it was really odd.

(Ted Danson was in there somewhere too)

I'm not too bothered with the family because Paul (him indoors) and I have just relaunched our band, and it's like when we first started out, so we're about 21. We have Nick Rhodes on keyboards, someone unknown on drums, and they've come to stay, to rehearse and stuff. They're about 21 as well, NR has a dodgy headband on.

We're setting up the kit when one of my cousins comes in and says 'come and see your Christmas present', and she opens the door and seven goats come into the room.

The door to the balcony is open and the goats all run and jump over the rail onto the pitched roof of the first floor (it's one of those rambling old houses). At first I'm really worried but then I remember that goats live on vertical cliff faces and they'll probably be OK on a roof. When I turn back to the room, it's empty, and the rest of the house is empty too.

(Everyone disappearing is a frequent theme in my dreams)

And I don't even HAVE sex dreams! Ever!

me too. none of my subsequent dreams has been that good.

nice

ive had strep throat and a nasty ear infection for a couple of weeks now and every dream i've had since being sick has been centered around pineapples. whole, sliced and crushed.

Then I vomit again and wake up.

Goodness.

Two friends and I were supposed to do a "reading" of Marshall McLuhan's "The Medium is the Massage" (a mostly graphical work with little text) in a Philadelphia basement as part of an indie rock show. I was late because I couldn't find my copy of the book and had to go to a bookstore, where the clerk didn't know what I was talking about.

I had a dream the other night where I had woken up and was talking to someone about the dream I had just had. That was a bit wtf.

It's like that Fruit Loops commercial.

Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, and I are of course going to a titty bar. When we get there David Duchovny gives me a condescending "no idea who you are" greeting. I attemt to 'zing' him back being all like "but you may know my friends!" and kind of step back to reveal Jon and Stephen, but somehow he had already saw them come in and talked to them so I just feel awkward and pathetic :(

Anxiety dreams about work AGAIN :(

I had a dream that Radovan Karadzic had escaped from custody. Some CID guys turned up on my door thinking I was him in a new disguise. I couldn't convince them otherwise, and they kept trying to trick me into speaking Serbian, Great Escape stylee. The dream ended with me about to be carted off to The Hague.

I'm posted up in a driveway in a white van that is, I think, meant to be my band's van (which I never drive, and which is green). Late-70s-era Chevy Chase is standing at the van's window wearing a plaid, polyester suit jacket of blue, white, red and brown. I can still picture the print very clearly. He says "I think you and I have some blood in common" and smiles. I am just getting ready to agree and say "I have always thought you looked like my Dad," but he points to his left using his right arm (arm across stomach, leaning to the right, jaunty stance, a hyuk hyuk joke) and a young, dark-haired guy with a short beard pops up into view. They both laugh. "Wait, Ari?!" I say and laugh confusedly. "Ari" indicates the dark-haired guy, and he is not a person that I know in real life, but in the dream I know that he is a friend and associate of Dan, our manager. I look out of the passenger side window and Dan is standing there in a black suit and light blue satin tie. He bows with his palms pressed together at his chest, an amused look on his face. All of this takes place in my childhood driveway on what seems like a Fall afternoon.

I had a dream that I had to kick a girl out of shelter and she bit my hand.

I am in a comic book store browsing. I pick up a trade paperback of The Walking Dead. The art is colorful and dark, like pop noir. Not at all what I was expecting. I pick up one of the Buffy Season 8 tpbs only to turn around and see Nicholas Brendon and Alyson Hannigan, famous character actors and stars of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, casually browsing the store. Brendon says something like "gosh I just love signing things for people it's just been so long since anyone has asked" and the woman behind the counter snaps at him "hey you're lucky we're even having you here you washout."

It becomes apparent that the store has arranged & paid for the two stars to mill and sign autographs. I look around. No one recognizes them. Suddenly, in the broken way of dreams, Brendon is standing next to me with WhiteOut, whiting out a portion of the blank first page in the book. He's moving the WhiteOut methodically and slowly, but manically, like he can't stop. He's not looking at his hands, he's looking straight at me. The page bursts into flame from the friction. He laughs crazily and throws the fiery book at my face.

I wake up.

there was to be an NYC-area (free?) concert w/ Poison, Warrant, Slaughter, perhaps Cinderella, and perhaps another like band or two, and there was an additional contextual element that I can't recall but was to make the concert super-special. because the concert was scheduled for 8/1 (?), I was going to have to change some vacation plans.

The boat is cruising across a valley of sand flats with regular pools of water. The driver/narrator is telling us to watch how the sharks appear from the water just behind the boat. Although at first, I can only sense the sharks' presence, eventually a few mouths appear, until eventually there is a horizontal line of sharks trailing behind us. The sharks become closer, moving up beside me, except I'm now lying on a surfboard being towed behind the boat. Camera crews are observing from the sides of the valley. The sharks clenching teeth draw in closer and closer. At this point I lose control of the surfboard and I'm being dragged underneath the water. Im unable to surface for air, and I can see the panic of the people observing from the sides. They being running in slow motion. The whole dream shifts down into a tortuously lumberous speed, as it becomes clear that if I rise from the water - it's safe underater, strangely) - I'll be torn apart by the sharks. I become desperate for air, the pressure builds, and suddenly I'm hearing a guitar playing the same four notes over and over.

Wake up gasping.

Was there any actual music playing when you woke up?

from a pal:

Now, I haven't played chess in years, but I was in
Central Park in chess competition. A large chessboard painted on the
lawn in fluorescent yellow and teal was used. Instead of normal
pieces, each competitor had to build life-sized pieces that moved via
remote control out of parts found in salvage shops.

The event was hosted by The RZA (last night I read a little of his
writing). Upon seizure of a piece, an audio sample was played over the
PA: "killa bees, we on a swarm.".

I don't remember what else happened. I was playing poorly for sure.

back at hs(?). after some unrecalled dithering ended up in a (not the) gym, shooting not necessarily basketballs but some kind of half-violin-shaped sections of large butternut squash or gourd or something. or maybe they were shoes. i dunno. i was wearing a scarf - it's cold out - and at one point i realized my hair was kinda messed up from my winter hat, so i put it back on - at least it doesn't get in the way of shooting like a baseball cap. anyway, i was doing pretty well, getting some good peanut comments, and felt confident enough to try one of those 75-footers from out of bounds that've been in the news. my toss went pear-shaped about half-way through and the "ball" - now an old shirt or something? - barely got to half court; there were some laughs. the captain of the women's team from my class had the same idea and didn't get even that far. i think there may have been an earlier segment where one of the popular girls, who got out early, was explaining why she ended up less of an overbronzed plastic surgery victim than some of the others, but that might have been another night.

anyway, i'm calling the dream No Country For Old Women's Basketball Team Captains

A shark chase in space. Then underwater, the same. Then the scenario briefly became a video game, involving gorillas in a Civilations-type setup, trying to survive underwater. I can hear my friend Will talking. Then it stopped being a video game, and I held my breath and went up through layers of ocean. Some brief panic about ever reaching the top. When I got there, there was shale forming a wall of stairs around the marsh. I heard an angry voice commanding me to go up the stairs. I looked up and saw some black stage curtains rustling in a forested area and a glimmer of a tuxedoed person hiding behind them. I become terrified. I hear many voices telling me to do many things, one of which is a woman saying "don't be afraid." I feel my eyes rolling back into my head and say to myself "I'm going back." I will myself to sink back down into the water and then I wake up, my heart pounding.

i dont wanna do drugs anymore lol

mostly odd just because I never remember dreams, but i had a serious migraine that somehow preserved it.

i was in an old high school class at a singing competition being run by a dwarf in a tux and some guy got up and read some poetry.
And the dwarf said "This is a music competition, not a poetry competition" (shades of sunday best), so the guy crumpled up the paper he was reading off of and stuffed it in the dwarf's mouth.
I said, okay that's about enough and the guy charged at me with crumpled up paper and the clear intention of stuffing it in my mouth so I cocked back a fist and told him if he tried it I'd hit him, which made him pause. Then he pulled out two fountain pens and started flicking ink at me from them and everyone else in the classroom followed suit. I charged him and realized two things at the same time: 1) the guy was real light and I could lift him over my head like papier mache and 2) it was william h macy.
Having lifted macy over my head, I started beating him against the wall and I heard somebody complaining about the inkstains that hitting him against the wall were creating and I replied "These are quality inkstains, they can only raise the value of this wall. They're not Meryl Streep inkstains or Al Pacino inkstains, but for christ's sake, this is William H Macy!"

Then I woke up.

roxymuzak (5:36:05 AM): just woke up frm a three hour nap at work tbh
chelives1986 (5:36:08 AM): lol
chelives1986 (5:36:10 AM): amazing
roxymuzak (5:36:15 AM): had a dream about argentinum
chelives1986 (5:36:23 AM): !
roxymuzak (5:36:26 AM): i dreamed that andrew was in the scholars bowl
roxymuzak (5:36:32 AM): and that i borrowed his pants
chelives1986 (5:36:35 AM): andrew!!!!!!!!!!!!
roxymuzak (5:36:39 AM): not andy
roxymuzak (5:36:42 AM): the singer andrew lol
chelives1986 (5:36:42 AM): oh
chelives1986 (5:36:44 AM): lol
roxymuzak (5:36:48 AM): cause lol at calling andy andrew
roxymuzak (5:37:16 AM): and when our manager saw me in the pants he said "those erased every line of your body"
roxymuzak (5:37:28 AM): because they were so tight, they squoze me in
roxymuzak (5:37:38 AM): actual lol that i would ever be able to fit in his pants btw
roxymuzak (5:37:43 AM): also wtf at this dream
roxymuzak (5:37:50 AM): also i just woke up.
chelives1986 (5:39:54 AM): wowwww
chelives1986 (5:40:08 AM): lmao at erasing every line of u body
roxymuzak (5:40:43 AM): also i was trying to choose between a shirt of band Medic and band 7 seconds - "walk together rock together" shirt
roxymuzak (5:40:50 AM): both of which i do have
roxymuzak (5:41:11 AM): and andrew took a sample off of a movie to be his scholars bowl entrance music
roxymuzak (5:41:14 AM): not making this up
roxymuzak (5:41:35 AM): and we laughed at him because it was to do with being beautiful
roxymuzak (5:41:56 AM): it was like "im the real hotness" but not that
roxymuzak (5:42:01 AM): also he was in a fannypack
chelives1986 (5:42:56 AM): wow 1 time
roxymuzak (5:43:36 AM): also this all took place at my childhood home
roxymuzak (5:44:01 AM): where i folded laundry (andrew's pants, the medic shirt, the 7 seconds shirt) on the dining room table
roxymuzak (5:44:16 AM): and my mom had a computer that projected onto the wall in a very laser-looking pink

I had a dream this morning that my bf revealed that he was in a thrash band called DBF. It was a 3 piece with two other guys I didn't know. He showed me their LP and it looked just like some generic 80s thrash record -- so cool! On the back was a picture of the three of them and they were dressed like squares on purpose, Cosby sweaters etc, and making insane faces in a kind of Olan Mills style family portrait. I was in bliss, and then he told me that DBF stood for "don't be a faggot," and while I did lol, I was kind of mad about it.

I was looking forward to meeting my dad's old high school friend who was coming to our house for a visit, and who just happened to be Donald (Buck Dharma) Roeser from Blue Öyster Cult. He shows up (looking absolutely nothing like the real-life Dharma) and tells me about a brand-new Cult song called "Murder" and shows me the lyrics sheet. It's a photo of deep space, stars and galaxies and a couple of cartoonish rocket ships, and printed overtop is the complete lyric, which consists of absolutely nothing but "Murder. Murder. Murder" over and over, always capitalized and punctuated with a period. "Wow, must've taken you a long time to write that" I snark. He replies "Oh, I only wrote the music. The lyrics were written by Ray Milland."

had really freaky dream last night

i was looking through photographs of iranian students, mostly young women, who had been tortured and disfigured. the disfigurements were kind of cartoonish and fake looking tho. there were photos of a gate that was the entrance to the prison where this stuff happened.

then, i was watching some kind of 60 minutes segment equating what's happening in iran to the nazis. the images of the disfigured students were intercut with ridiculous b&w footage of nazi scientists operating on people (images courtesy Bioshock, i now realize). i thought the equivalence was kind of stupid.

then the segment changed focus and brought in a third element, a 'classic' mid-century american stageplay/movie about abusive parents. i understand the play was called 'silent spring' even tho i know that's not a play nor about abuse. there was supposed to be some kind of grand point linking these three things but i thought it didn't make much sense.

then i was IN a home that had some kind of abusive situation (was i the journalist?), only instead of the parents being horrible, it was the kid. we were sitting in the kitchen, and there was a mother and a young daughter, about 8, and the kid was extremely crabby and mean. i thought i'd put the kid to bed, so i picked her up and carried her into her room, all the while she's screaming very precocious, funny insults at me, "you'll never hear the last of this!" and "i'll sue you into the ground!" etc.

when i laid her down on her bed, her face had become pinched and tiny, like a burn victim or a shrunken head. i went back into the kitchen and sat down again with the mother, who didn't say anything. within seconds the little girl came back, but she had changed again, and was bigger. i understood her to have shaved her own head in protest of being put to bed, but she looked more like a very small bald man, or a boy made to look like an older man. 'she' screamed something unintelligible and then lunged at me, trying to stab me in the neck with a fountain pen. at that point i woke up.

My mother died 9 years ago and for a while I kept dreaming her.

In one of the most vivid dreams I ever had, she was back with us for an evening dinner. The entire family was there (you know, in the classic Italian style): we knew she was dead, but it was like she had a sort of holiday or permission to pay us a visit. The dinner was great, there was this great atmosphere of almost Christmas-y happiness until I found the courage to ask her how it was staying "there" - meaning how it was to be dead, I think.

It was like the lights dimmed suddenly: only my mother was still completely visible, like she was under a search light. She sighed, looking very sad, and said it was a very cold place.

I woke up almost crying.

Dreamt I had to write an essay about what was in my dream an iconic piece of mid-20th-century sculpture: a tractor or some other kind of farm equipment with the shell of a VW Beetle perpendicularly laid on top of it.

*sharing a room with my brother