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August 1991

Aug 3 - Aug 5 - Aug 9 - Aug 11 - Aug 13 - Aug 16 - Aug 18 - Aug 24



August 3rd, 1991

Lisa and I were having a huge party at our house. There were at least 100 people there. I was supposed to be at a Writer's Conference to meet with an editor and/or agent, but I decided on not going and to just hang around the house and party instead. I felt guilty about not going. Why I didn't go, I wasn't sure, whether I was lazy, drunk or some other reason, I wasn't sure. I remember talking to Lisa and saying that I really should go to the conference and I should just get it over with. I had something scheduled at different times at the conference, like 6 o'clock and maybe 3 o'clock, but I just ended up going to the later appointment. Doing this meant leaving our house unattended, I don't know where Lisa was going, but there would be nobody at my house to watch over the party. I remember Lisa saying how the amount of people was growing and I was kind of worried about letting a bunch of rowdy partiers in my house while I wasn't there, but I did it anyway. I took a print out of my book which was on three sheets of 17 x 11 computer printout paper. It didn't seem possible that the entire book could fit on these three sheets, but apparently it did. I remember seeing the first part of it and how sentences and paragraphs were bunched together. Anyway, my appointment at the conference was with Stephen King. It was an eye-opening experience. At first I was worried about people crowding around and wanting to see Stephen King, but the two of us managed to find a nice little spot on the grass somewhere, perhaps on the campus at PLU, and nobody bothered us. I presented Mr. King with the printout and he immediately began reading it, marking on it and making comments as he went along. It was really neat. I could remember seeing the beginning of the book where it said "Fear no man" and other spots at the beginning. Stephen crossed out the paragraph after "Fear no man" and when I read it later, it made more sense. He also made comments, such as, "This is kind of confusing" or "That's quite a juxtaposition" (whatever the hell that means) and other stuff. Stephen King really helped me a lot in this dream and I think this was some kind of message to me from God for me to get my act together and quit procrastinating about becoming a serious, successful writer. I wondered if Stephen was going to critique the whole damned book, but then he crumpled it up and tossed it aside. Later I saw he only crumpled up what he didn't critique and handed me the first page, which was full of marks and suggestions for a better book. The paragraph after "Fear no man" was solidly scratched out with the ink from the blue ball point pen he was writing with. After the critique, we sat and talked for a while. It was great because he really looked like Stephen King and I was certain that this was a great opportunity for me. I made a comment how I wondered if the first book he ever wrote sold or if he had to write a few before he became successful. He smiled and said I was right, that it took a few books before he was an established writer. I asked him how old he was before he had made his first sale and he said he was 28. I remember later telling this to Lisa and how I guess I wasn't in such bad shape because that was only two years younger than I am now. Then Stephen King asked me if I knew what the first book he wrote was. I wasn't sure but I said Carrie. He shook his head and said it was a book called Tilly the Toyler or something like that. I asked him what he said and when he said, "Tilly the Toyler again," I nodded like I understood him, but I wasn't sure. He asked if I knew of the book and I didn't want to lie, even if it meant not knowing something like that about a writer such as he, so I said no. Then I remember seeing his address on a 3 x 5 card earlier in the dream and the street was Toyler Street. I asked him if the title had anything to do with that and he said Yes. Finally it was time for us to part company. As he turned and walked away down the sidewalk, I yelled "Hey!" to get his attention. When he turned to look at me I said to him, "You're the best!" and I gave him a thumbs-up signal with my right hand, then pointed my index finger up, indicating #1. He smiled at me, turned around, and walked away. He was a very reserved, polite and quiet man, and really made me realize what an opportunity I have to become a successful writer. Then I went back to the party at my house, feeling great about what I just did. Then I remember seeing Lisa in a bed trying to sleep in a mobile home, as if we lived there instead of the house where the party was. Whatever the case, I was still worried about all the people at the house.


August 5th, 1991

I was trying to run, but as in dreams, my legs wouldn't go as fast as I wanted them to go. I was with some other guys and I think we were all running on a soccer or football field. We may have been playing a game or something, but I can't remember. We were laughing as we ran but when I noticed I couldn't move my legs any faster than slow motion, I pretended that my leg was hurt and I limped, thus having a reason for not moving at normal speed. Still, to limp I had put all my energy into just faking that pace. I never questioned why I couldn't move normally as if, in my dream, I knew why, but didn't want to say anything, although the reason, whatever it may have been, was not because I was dreaming.


August 9th, 1991

I was with my sister Fawn. We were just standing around smiling and talking and stuff, not really doing anything. Suddenly there was a plan, made by some guy I never met, to kill me. At first this guy wanted to have Fawn kill me, but then he decided that it would be too weird because she was my sister. I think that was the only reason Fawn was talking to me in the first place, so she could kill me later, but maybe not. So the man chose someone else. I was in a house with some other guys, maybe Charles and some others. I was standing by a glass door or a window because I could remember being able to see outside. As I talked with the guys in the house, I noticed a man with shoulder length black hair, kind of like the guy at where I work who has that SHUT-UP BITCH T-shirt. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see him walk to the end of the house outside, where I think there was a door leading in. He tried to act inconspicuously, but I knew this was the guy that was sent to kill me. He didn't really want to make a scene, but eventually I guess he got inside and we confronted each other. I shot at him, maybe with a shotgun, but the bullets didn't kill him. I may have hit him in the side of the head once and the side of his stomach. When the bullets hit they left tears in his body, like you would expect. But these didn't stop him. Apparently he was a terminator or a robot or something. I can't remember anything after that.


August 11th, 1991

I was standing on the top of a ridge with some other people, but I can't remember who. I pointed out a house in the distance, a half mile away. It was the same house that I know is haunted. In this dream, the house was shaped like one of those new shaped ban roll-on deodorants. It had some smoke coming out of the very top of it, making the place resemble a huge smoke stack. The next thing I knew, I was at the side of the house, looking up towards the top. It was a pretty tall house. The house was a rusted color, like it was very old and weathered. I think we were all standing on some type of platform that was raised off the ground, about a fourth of the way up the side of the house. There was a window about fifteen feet up on the side of the house and I wanted to take a look inside. There were old, rusty rungs attached to the side of the house, leading up to the window and beyond. I must have thought these were unsafe because instead of using them, I used my own ladder. It also had that look of rust and age but it was sturdier than the steps on the side of the house. I put the ladder up against the side of the house, overlapping the rungs which were already there. I don't remember crawling up the ladder or getting a look inside the house. The ladder was just as tall as the window and I wondered how I would be able to crawl up beyond the window if I didn't want to use the steps on the side of the house.


August 13th, 1991

I was at work. Chan Forgotta and I were in my work area and he was asking me about part #30-8088-00. I was a bit confused for that number didn't sound familiar. I thought maybe it was #30-8018, or maybe #30-8017. A lot of other shit happened but I can't remember what.


August 16th, 1991

I was with some people, probably a couple of guys. We were doing a lot of stuff that I can't remember. It's like we were running around, being young and carefree. We were in an area that was by the ocean, I think. The earliest part of this dream I can remember is being at someone's property, looking out past the tall chain link fence that surrounded the place. There was someone with me at this point, some guy, but I can't remember who. Past the chain link fence were some sparse woods, maybe just bushes, then the beach beyond that. For some reason, we had a sudden urge to get off the property, as if the owner saw us or something. The guy with me managed to get up over the fence, which may have been at an angle with barbed wire at the top. I couldn't get over the top, but then something came over me and I got over the top. As I walked along the boardwalk-like scene, there were a lot of people and a lot of stuff going on, but I can't remember exactly what. I was walking along a road that had a lot of people gathered around it, like there was a fair on the street or something. I noticed a police car driving by and I was a little paranoid, wondering if they were after me for being on that person's land earlier with the chain link fence around it. In front of the cop car was another car which had all four wheels turned sideways. The car itself was also turned sideways and the wheels spun and whirred as it sped the car along awkwardly. I thought the police were going to stop that car for driving crazy like that, but apparently not. The cops stopped just in front of me and I new I was under arrest. I went without argument, knowing I was guilty and knew I couldn't talk my way out of it. I became extremely depressed, feeling sad that I wouldn't be able to see Sarah and Lisa when I wanted to anymore. I felt like a fool.


August 18th, 1991

All I can remember about this dream is the last part. I was doing something in my house and it was morning. Then I was in my bedroom and I started taking off my clothes because I wanted to crawl back into bed with Lisa. Then I noticed that it was 7:30 and I was supposed to be at work at 7:30. I had mixed feelings, not caring about being late and to go back to bed anyway, or to get to work as soon as I could.


August 24th, 1991

I was walking along a sidewalk with some other guys. I think one of them was the singer for the band REM. One of REMís songs was playing on the radio. We were all laughing and having fun. I looked down and saw the guys in front of me were wearing shoes, but I can't remember what kind. I think I may have been wearing shoes as well but then I noticed that I didn't have my shoes on at all. There was some feeling in the air that I did this because I wanted to be cool or something, but actually I did it because it felt better and my feet didn't hurt at all when walking. Then I woke up and an REM song was playing on the radio.

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