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December 1995

Dec 1 - Dec 6 - Dec 9 - Dec 13 - Dec 14 - Dec 19 - Dec 30 - Dec 31

December 1, 1995

I was walking along a road, from where or to where I don't know. I know a lot of stuff happened but all I can remember is walking along a road, when I suddenly came to a barnyard type of setting in the middle of the road. There was a building in front of me that resembled a barn and I either had to walk though it or around it to the left to continue on. I think on the left of this building, the road sloped off to a cliff so I didn't go that way. I walked through this barn-building, and there were other people around, like cowboys. I was walking across a pen where some animals were probably kept. I didn't see any animals in there. The ground was dirt and the pen was forty feet square and was surrounded by an old gray wooden fence. In front of me was a gate that swung open and I felt kind of weird being in here, like someone was going to notice me and tell me to get out of there or something like that, but that never happened. As I approached the fence, I saw a young man in front of me. He held a big bucket or sack of some kind of animal feed in his arms. He tilted the sack/bucket forward and the feed, an oat/grain type of substance, fell forward onto the ground as he was swinging the bucket from side to side so it spread onto the ground evenly. Apparently this feed was for whatever animals there were to feed. This scene reminded me of the auction I went to with dad when I was little and he was trying to sell our pigs. I guess I walked out the gate and was on my way again because the next thing I recall is walking along the road again. I was walking along that road that I used to walk along that I took when going to Peter Peckster's from my house when we were kids. I was at the part where the road started to curve like an S just before the house where Harry Pendleton used to live, but I was walking towards Meridian Avenue. As I looked at Meridian, a pickup truck pulled onto the same street I was on and started coming towards me. I think it was a kingcab of some sort but I can't remember what color - blue or gray maybe. The truck swerved off the road and went into the ditch on the right (its left) but it drove out of the ditch and steadied itself on the road again. I thought that the driver was drunk or wasted or something so I walked off my side of the road and onto the shoulder there so when the truck got near me, it wouldn't hit me. The shoulder I was on gave way to a gully and sloped downward, but I was able to walk along the sloped hill without losing my footing. In the gully were trees and a grassy bottom, maybe a marsh of some kind. The truck drove by me and didn't swerve off the road anymore. As it went by I noticed two people sitting in the cab. I think the passenger was a woman with shoulder-length black hair and she looked at me as they drove by. The truck rounded the S curve and was on its way.

December 6, 1995

I was in a Jr. High School. I'm not sure if I was a student or if I was just there farting around. I remember that the age of some of the students was about fourteen, but I also know that in this dream I was older, like seventeen or older than that maybe. Because I was older, I was viewed upon as a stud or someone who was really cool because I was older. I was walking around with someone else but I can't remember who and I think he was also older than the students as well, but maybe not as old as me. I did a lot of stuff but all I can remember is being approached by a girl who reminded me of Sayshel Adams. We were surrounded by other students, but Sayshel stood out as the most dominant one, like she was a popular cheerleader or something like that. We walked into a room where there were lockers stacked on top of each other. The lockers looked like wooden boxes and were about two feet wide and a foot high. The highest stack was as high as my head. I looked at one and I think it may have been Sayshel's. Apparently she was having trouble opening the locker so I dinked around with the combination lock. It was a built-in combination lock, not the dangling kind. I rotated the knob to the first number, which I think was #2, then the top of the locker/box lifted up. The metal latch came up and out of the top. It was so easy to open that I looked at everyone kind of confused, as if saying, "It couldn't have been that easy to open." I closed the lid back up and locked it, wanting to try again to show that it couldn't open so easily as the first time. However, as I rotated the dial to #2 again then slowly turned the dial to the left, the lid was easily opened again. It made me look like an even cooler guy, to be able to get this locker open that someone was having trouble with before.
I was driving a vehicle of some kind, probably my pickup. I drove onto some damp ground on the shoulder of a road somewhere. As I drove further off the shoulder and into the dampness, the truck began to sink into the mud, which looked like a mass of pine needles and mud mixed together. The truck sunk up to almost the windows but I managed to turn the truck around and drive out. The next thing I remember is being with David Duchovny, the guy who plays Moulder on the TV show The X-Files. We were with some other guy and he was pointing out a mound of something that was probably some of the mud that was from the mud my truck sunk into. The mound was just a bit larger than the size of a basketball It was crumbling apart and some of it was on the ground next to the larger pile/mound. I remember looking at it and the idea of it actually having been someone's bowel movement was brought up. We all laughed at that idea and I said something like, "Yeah if that's what it is, it'll surely get put into the X-Files." By saying this I meant that a bowel movement that large would be so strange that someone such as the X-File team would have to investigate where and who it came from. The guy next to us pierced the mound with a shovel he had and the spade left a crack molded into the mound. I commented on how Scully might ask what the hell that was, then in a female's voice, trying to imitate Dana Scully, I said, "What does it mean, Moulder?" This made David Duchovny laugh, hearing me imitate Gillian Anderson, and this made me feel like he thought I was a cool guy because of it.

December 9, 1995

I was at work. I was talking with Traesup Beckenridge and one of the things we discussed was a schedule where he could get some training on a piece of equipment. He already had this, but apparently he forgot how to do it or needed to be shown again how to do it. We were standing there, him to the right of me, then he mentioned how I should come in on Friday or Saturday to do the training. I felt weird because I wasn't going to come in on my day off, that's for sure. Traesup acted casual about it, like I was just going to come in no questions asked, but I knew I was going to tell him I wasn't. I don't think I ever did in the dream, but I know that I would have eventually.

December 13, 1995

I was with a friend of mine and a woman (I don't know who either of them were). The friend was a guy and he committed some crime that the woman was really mad about. She told us both that because of what he did, then he was going to die at the hands of her husband or boyfriend. The boyfriend was away at work or in another state or something like that, but it was clear that when he showed up, then my friend was going to get killed. The three of us (me, my friend and the woman) were on the side of a road somewhere. My friend had climbed up a telephone pole and was sitting on the top of it. I remember the top was real flat and he sat up there. I had the feeling he sat up there to keep away from the woman and maybe the woman's boyfriend, or maybe he sat up there because that was like his prison, his holding cell, until his sentence was to be carried out. The whole time this was going on, I wanted to help my friend escape but I also acted real nice to this woman, as if I was her friend. That way I could gain her confidence which could help me get my friend out of there. Once I looked around and noticed that on the opposite side of the road was a forest with a meadow-type clearing in the middle, about thirty feet off the road. This meadow had a lot of water visible through the grass so it could have been a swamp or marsh. I was surveying the area to try to figure out which way would be best to try to escape. I went to the telephone pole and my friend was hanging on about halfway up now, no longer sitting on the top. I told him that I noticed that there was a swamp-meadow type area on the far side of the road, thus giving him an idea of what an escape that way would be like. The next thing I recall is driving in a van with the woman and my friend as well. I don't know where we were going, but I was again being real nice to the woman so that I might escape the possibility of death at the hands of her boyfriend. Then we were in a house. I was in an area that kind of reminded me of Peter Peckster's house that he lived in with Osmond. It was the kitchen area and I was at the dining room area and facing the kitchen. The dining room area was sunken down about half a foot or so from the kitchen. It was kind of gloomy, not really dark, but it was like the lights were low. I found myself talking on the phone, next to where the phone actually was in Peter's house, by the sliding glass door. I was facing the dining room. I was talking with the woman's boyfriend, and I guess his name was Alan. As we were talking, I accidentally called him Roger and this made him really mad because the woman's former boyfriend was called Roger. Alan said to me, "Don't call me Roger" in a very dry, expressionless voice. I instantly apologized for calling him that. I remember saying, "Oh geez I'm so sorry I called you that. Man I'm sorry God that was stupid of me. I'm sorry." I was worried that since I did that then he was going to want to kill me as well, but he kept talking with me like we were friends so it was OK. He kept talking to me about things he had done while he was away, like he had been on vacation or something and he was telling me about all the things he did. He would explain some things that he did in a real excited voice, and I could tell by the way he sounded that he was a hyper, dangerous man.

December 14, 1995

I was sleeping in a room in a house, an unfamiliar one. I woke up and looked at a digital clock somewhere and saw that it was eleven-something. It was really late and I was surprised that I felt kind of guilty for having slept in for so long. I heard a noise of some kind and it was some people that were coming my way. I didn't want them to know that I had slept in for so long so I jumped up and went and turned on the shower, trying to make it look like I had been up for a while and was just now getting around to taking a shower. As I was doing this, I looked at the digital clock again and saw that the number had changed from eleven to twelve. Whether it was twelve the whole time or had just changed, I wasn't sure, but the whole readout indicated it was 12:06, so I think that when I first looked at it, it had to have been twelve-something, not eleven-something, because six minutes hadn't passed since I last looked at the clock.
I was in a room with a bunch of people. The lights were turned down low and I think there was a party going on. I was sitting on a futon-like couch, facing an area that looked like a bar of some kind, like the kind in that house Charles used to live in with Lendl Hill. I was sitting on the couch with a woman, but I can't remember who she was. There were two females that stuck out in my mind in this dream, but the woman I was with seemed to change from one to the other; first she was one of the women, then when I looked at her again she was the other one. I think one of them may have been Patricia (my step-sister) but she had brunette hair so maybe it was someone else because Patricia has red hair. A man appeared in front of us. He was about my age and was bald on top and had shaggy, frizzy hair sticking out around the sides of his head. He looked kind of weird, like a mad scientist or something. He held up a huge spoon, about two feet long. He held the huge spoon up with his left hand and with his right hand he sprayed some kind of liquid or something from an aerosol can into the spoon, the part that goes into your mouth. As he did this, the gas or whatever it was coming from the aerosol can was flammable and caught on fire, like Lysol would if you sprayed it and held a flame to the spray. The flame was blue and yellow, just like you would imagine a flame coming from an aerosol can to look like. The guy continued to spray this stuff into the spoon and as he did, I noticed something else in the well of the spoon that was among the flame, something thin and bendy like a piece of metal. The flaming went on for a while and I was worried that the woman I was with and myself would get caught on fire or damaged in some way by the flame. It was mentioned to the guy that he should cool it, to watch the flame action because it was getting out of hand. He then sprayed some of the stuff into his mouth and the stuff again caught on fire somehow. He managed to control the flame however, and shot it from his mouth in a fan- shape, like a huge blue and yellow thin wedge sprouting from his mouth. As he did this, he spun around and around at an angle, going from the ten o'clock direction then spinning his head in a circle to the four o'clock direction, then back up to ten. He spun around and around a few times and as he did, the flame continued to fan from his mouth in a blue and yellow wavering illumination. He was being real cocky, like he didn't care if the flame got too close to us. He did put the spoon away and he walked away for a few seconds and I said something to him about how if he hadn't put the spoon away, then I would have shoved it up his ass. Shortly after that, he returned with a huge metal mixing bowl, and he held it up like he was going to spray the stuff into that, which would cause a lot of flame and fire because the bowl was so big. He kind of casually strolled my way, holding the bowl in one hand and the can in the other. I remember holding the woman's (Patricia?) head with my hands and pressing her close to the left side of my chest as if to protect her from this guy and his fire. I don't think he ever did shoot flame into that bowl. There was another guy there and I think he convinced the frizzy-haired maniac to cool it. I said something to him like, "Got to protect Patricia," meaning that he and I were worried about the woman's safety.
I had fallen asleep on a couch in a living room somewhere and next to me was another couch where another guy had fallen asleep. It was weird, because in this dream I fell asleep and then dreamt again. I dreamt that I could see myself sleeping on the couch. I walked to the couch and looked down on my sleeping body. As I did this, I got up, which kind of surprised me. So there I was, dreaming about dreaming about seeing my sleeping body wake up. As my body woke up, it couldn't see me as I watched it. It was like I was invisible. The one of me that had been sleeping apparently had been drooling while sleeping because there was a large drool/spit stain on my face. It was a severe stain, though, covering about half my face. It was misshapen, like one of the continents on the globe, and was dark and seemed to be stuck on, like dried food. At first I wasn't sure who this awakened body was but then I realized that it was me. I don't know if the other sleeping person woke up. We were in a dark room, and resembled a rec room of some sort with glass doors and windows facing the outside world, kind of like the living room in the sitcom Home Improvement. Later I was with some people and I was telling them about the dream I had, how I saw my sleeping body and how it had woken up. I also said something about the other body that was there. Then I mentioned something really strange, that after my own body had woken up, I danced with it, just a few steps around the room. Weird.

December 19, 1995

I was at work and it was the first thing in the morning. I was trying to get on a piece of equipment to make a program. It was weird because this is exactly what I had to do this morning so I had to go through this twice, once in my dream then once in real life. Of course, in the dream when I was trying to get on the equipment, production had shit they needed to run so I was in the way, like fucking always. I had my product on the equipment, then someone came up and had some product they needed to run so I had to abort my program so they could get on. I think the product I had on the equipment was almost done, but I aborted the job instead of finishing so production could have their fucking machine to do their fucking shit. I was standing there when Winthrop walked up to me and had a bunch of product that he needed to run.

December 30, 1995

I was in the show ER and I was a doctor. I can't remember the events of the day as we went about caring for other patients, but I do remember the end of the day. Me, George Clooney and Anthony Edwards were in a bar, having drinks. Apparently we had a long, hard day and wanted to unwind. Sitting next to me was a young guy, in his late teens it looked like. He was some student who was studying to be a doctor so he followed us around all day and tried to learn from what we were doing. He made a comment about what hours I worked and I told him that I was now off (it was about ten o'clock at night) and that I work Sunday through Thursday and have Fridays and Saturdays off. It was weird, because it was like I didn't know what hours I worked until I actually told the guy that, and it hit me as if I just then realized, "Yeah that's right! That's the days and hours I work!" I had the impression I was just doing a part-time job at the hospital, like I was doing my internship or something and that it was a permanent position but as long as I was there, that's the hours I worked. The young man then smiled and said, "Thank you!" as if he was grateful to me for sharing that information with him. He continued smiling, then backed away then walked off, out of the bar. I guess he didn't want to stay and drink with us.

December 31, 1995

I was at work with Thadeus. It was his last day, or close to his last day, of working at that company because he was quitting. Thadeus was showing me things he had left behind to show that he had been there. One thing had to do with the control panel for the one of the pieces of equipment. I stood there and watched the screen. There was some information there, I can't remember exactly what, but it showed the usual stuff of flows and rates and shit like that I suppose. I watched the gray LCD screen and Thadeus walked off to do something to the right of me. Whatever he did caused some words to flash on this LCD screen. In the spaces where there was supposed to be information, there appeared his name and I think Crispen Howe’s name. In the lower left corner of this screen was a rectangular LCD display and in it appeared my name, with the words "Engrd. by" above it, as if I was responsible for the work done with this equipment. The names and words that appeared were programmed onto this screen somehow by Thadeus and when I watched the screen, the letters began to fade and soon were hard to read. I guess the words only appeared for so long and then they would fade, but would reappear whenever something happened again, like whatever Thadeus did to make them appear in the first place, whatever that was. He programmed these words onto the screen to remind people that he had been there.

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