April 1, 1992
A lot of shit happened and of course I can only remember a few points. I was with some people and what we were doing revolved around being at the Canadian border. I wish I could remember all the details. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Lisa was there and there were a few other people, whom I can't remember. I remember a scene where we were outside the entrance to a restaurant. The entrance was in an out-of-the-way place, like a kiddy-corner where the entrance to this restaurant was on one side and the entrance to another place was directly facing it, both perpendicular to a busy alley or street. Their was the word SOMBORO or something like that in capitals letters over the door. The door, as well as the background to these light-colored letters, was brown, showing it was made out of wood. We were in a restaurant and we sat at a table, I think maybe a round one made for three or four, like you find in a cocktail lounge. We were doing something that made the management mad, although I can't remember what. I remember a waiter or someone like that walking up to us, contemplating on throwing us out. Several times this waiter person approached us, and either we calmed down and convinced him not to eject us, or we just talked him out of throwing us out. But eventually we got kicked out but for what, I don't know. The next thing I can recall is being in a building which was like a customs interface place, with several floors and many people scurrying this way and that. I remember going through these turnstiles, like at an airport, and also big plate glass windows behind which displayed the world beyond, which only registered as a busy, congested atmosphere. Somewhere about this time I noticed I was in a Volkswagen Beetle, driving along as though the car wasn't any wider than the average person. I remember different turnstiles, some were marked for people, others were marked for people in vehicles. I, by mistake, had gone through one marked for people and I think I may have had some difficulty getting through. For some reason, this was strictly forbidden, but one of the people with me, either Ron or Charles perhaps, motioned for me to move along as if nothing had happened after I had got through, and maybe no one would notice. The next thing ahead was elevators and of course I had to go into these to get to wherever the hell it was I was going. I remember going into the elevator and I was still in my incredibly small Beetle. I went into the elevator and drove in head first. This made me feel uncomfortable, facing the back. There were other people in the elevator with me (us) but apparently the Beetle didn't take up much room. One of the people with me, maybe the guy who motioned me towards the elevator after the turnstile, prompted me to turn around so I would face the front of the elevator like everyone else. I did, finding it easier than I thought it would be to turn around in an elevator while inside a Volkswagen Beetle. I don't remember getting out of the elevator, but the next thing I recall is going through the actual customs. Me, and some other guy who was probably the main guy in this dream besides myself, were at some tables where Customs Agents stood. We (this guy and I), knew that we could not pass customs, whatever reason that may be I don't know, but we were sure our chances of getting across the border, whether it was from Canada to the U.S. or the other way around, were slim. The customs people then saw that we had beer. I wasn't sure if this was a problem or not. I remember standing at a table and the customs official there noticed my beer. It was a 40 ouncer and was about half full. He calculated something up on a calculator, like the beer cost me so many points and if I still had enough points then I could cross the border. I think the customs person added points instead of taking away. I remember I didn't have enough points to cross the border but then the official took into account my beer, added points, then I had enough. The other guy with me also got across but I don't know if his official made the same error.
April 10, 1992
I was in a strange type of fun house, or mysterious place. Irgnoid Bertwoski and Chip Saunders from work were there. This place I was in was really odd, kind of reminding me of the feeling I get when I'm in that house that I know of to be haunted, but it wasn't a scary feeling, just mysterious and strange. There was some area, kind of like a closet space or something similar, and one of us (Irgnoid, Chip or myself) was lying up on a shelf-like space that rose to about two-thirds of the closet space. Up and to the right of this shelf, but still in the closet space, was a clock on the wall. I can't remember exactly what time it was, but it was something like 7:00 in the morning or 4:00 in the afternoon. The time wasn't important - what was important was the feeling the time gave me. It told me that I had to get to work pretty soon or I would be late. I wanted to explore inside this fun house or whatever it was, but if I did, then I would more than likely be late for work. Nevertheless, I decided to go for it. The main thing that would hold me up was getting through a small hole that led into the interior of the house, and I was afraid that I wouldn't have enough time to get through the hole, explore the house, then get back out. The hole was on the shelf, on top and to the left. I slightly remember trying to squeeze my way into this hole and it was a tight fit. I think I may have questioned my ability to get into this hole, but I guess I did because the next thing I remember is being down inside the house. It was strange, like there were different rooms and areas where you would do certain things. I remember one room only, and Chip and Irgnoid were there. In this room was a pile of large boxes or maybe boxes piled upon some type of high rise. The stack reached about twelve feet in height. Irgnoid was sitting in a chair, off to the left, and also upon a raised surface, maybe about four feet higher than what I was standing on. He looked at me and Chip as we stood on the floor before this stack of boxes. The room was about the size of a large living room. The stack of boxes was in front of us and it was apparent that there was a space between the stack and the wall beyond the stack. Then I learned the purpose of this room. Chip told me that you had to run towards the stack, jump over a crevice in the floor, then onto the stack and push a heavy box off the top of the stack and onto the floor. I guess that this house had a bunch of rooms where there were different obstacle course type things where you had to test your skills. Irgnoid just watched, sitting nonchalantly in his chair, smiling and being his usual relaxed self. He wasn't participating in the exercises, he was just watching, killing time. Anyway, I think Chip went first. He demonstrated what had to be done. He ran to the stack, jumping over the crevice then bounding up the stack of boxes and to the top. He did this all very quickly, as if he was in the Olympics or something. Once at the top, he pushed hard against the heavy box that he had to topple, but it didn't fall over. It just rocked back a little then set in its place again. I think Chip got a time of around seven seconds. Then it was my turn. I don't know what happened, but I got off to a slow start. I think I may have stumbled or tripped. I realized that I wasn't going to beat Chip's time, so I stopped and mentioned that I wanted to start over, or not to clock me because this is my first time. Chip indicated that I couldn't do that and that the clock was still running. By now it was past seven seconds and I knew I was going to lose, and it kind of pissed me off, but I continued anyway. The anger spurring me on, I ran to the top of the box pile and shoved the heavy box as hard as I could. This knocked the box off the pile and sent it falling backwards. I'm not sure if this gave me any more points, but I was glad that I was able to knock the box off and Chip wasn't. It made me feel like I was strong or something.
April 20, 1992
I was at an apartment or someplace similar and I guess I lived there. The doorway to this place was at the top of a slope by the road, like somewhere along the hills in the downtown of the city I live in, and the rest of the house was downward along this slope. There was a party or something going on. I can't remember most of this, but what I do remember is someone with a gun. I think they may have shot some people. Then the police came and I distinctly remember the guy with the gun pointing it at one of the policemen and pulling the trigger. He looked rough, late teens, short dirty, almost curly blonde hair, kinda like Billy Idol. He pointed with his right hand and I remember his eyes looking bloodshot and baggy. When the policeman (or men) dropped dead, it was strange because it didn't seem like such a big deal. The dream made it feel that because we all knew the guy who shot the cop, then we have nothing to worry about. It could have been anybody. After a while, I found myself walking to the bottom of the slope, where the back of my house was. I think there was a sliding glass door there and a fence, a fence like around my yard out back. Facing the sliding glass door that led in to the apartment downstairs, I looked to my right. On the other side of the fence, which I remember as to be gray, were my neighbors who also had an apartment like mine. They were two women in their late forties, early fifties. I think they sat in lawn chairs and maybe there was a barbecue by them. I remember the one on the right more vividly. They looked at me and for some reason they began chatting like chipmunks, really getting into it. Their faces squinted and their cheeks bulged as they began chanting stuff like "Chick-chick-chick, chock-chock-chock". I was amused somewhat by this display and then I tried to join in and chat like them. I tried a few chats but I didn't sound as good as them. I remember one of the women saying something about how it was pretty boring around her house, how nothing exciting ever happened there. I then said under my breath something like, "Yeah well you ought to try it over here." I think some people in my apartment heard me say that and maybe they laughed at my remark. I was back inside the apartment after that and there was some kind of party going on. Amid the ruckus, there were two more cops. They had appeared on the scene, why I'm not sure, but it must have had something to do with us partying or maybe because there were two dead cops on the premises. Anyway, these two cops were looking around but they never did inquire about the two cops who were shot dead by the Billy Idol guy. However, the two dead cops were present the whole time. They were lying on the floor by the kitchen or the living room, and somehow they were made to look as though they had their arms up as if making a barricade of some sort. It was strange, but someone had drawn stick figures on the cops' shadows, or maybe around their bodies as they laid dead, but whatever it was, it gave the appearance that the two dead cops were there as some type of barricade, with the stick figures and shadows on the floor making it look like they had everything under control. I think I vaguely remember talking to the cops and they finally did leave. I think they may have glanced at the stick figures and shadows on their way out, but they never did try to talk to the dead cops, presumably assuming they were alive and therefore had everything under control. Later I remember being at the top of some stairs that led down to a den or TV room. There were about fifteen people or so partying. I was at the top of the stairs trying to look down to see what everyone was up to but William, the shipper from work, was there. He kept grabbing at me, preventing me from looking downstairs. Finally I had to turn away so he wouldn't grab me any more.
April 30, 1992
I dreamt that Lisa and I were really mad at each other. We argued a lot and finally I couldn't take any more so I think I threw her down some stairs that resembled the stairs leading from the living room to the rec room where I used to live at the top of South Hill. I'm pretty sure it was an accident, but I was still mad, as was she. I remember very little of this dream. After that, I remember Lisa and I sleeping separately.
I was swimming in the afternoon, and that's all I can remember about that.
I remember getting arrested for something, but I can't remember what. I was standing on a road, or the side of a road, somewhere. It was a dry landscape surrounding us, something like you might see in a Road Warrior movie. As I was standing there being handcuffed, a black guy and his friend or two walked past me, mocking me somehow. They were doing something which I think they got arrested for earlier in my dream, but now the table was turned and it was me, not them. The black guy smiled as he walked past me, and he was smoking a joint or something like that. He reminded me of the black reporter who interviewed Magic Johnson after the Lakers lost to the Bulls in the 1991 finals, and they talked about Magic's retirement. That same casual laugh was there as he walked past me. Apparently he belonged to some motorcycle gang and I guess I escaped with them somehow. I remember one of the motorcycle guys. He was riding a three-wheeler just like the one in that Billy Jack movie. Propped up on the handle bars of his tri-cycle was a Women's Day magazine, but concealed inside it was the Bible. I guess he tried to make it look like he was reading Women's Day when he was really reading the Bible. I rode with one of the bikers but before we could get away completely, storm troopers from the movie Star Wars appeared on the horizon, about fifty yards away to my left. There were a bunch of them and they may have been riding motorcycles as well. I remember seeing them as they poured over a hill and towards us, intent on stopping us from getting away. Nevertheless, I didn't feel any threat and was sure that somehow we would escape them. I'm sure we would have also, but then I think Lisa woke me up and the dream ended.
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