february 1, 2003
a bizzare yet incredibly vivid dream. i was driving out to a remote location somewhere on i-80 east, but the road looked more like hwy 29 north, going towards napa. i was in the car with my sister and my mother, and it was night and very dark, though my headlights shone out onto the road. as i was driving, i noticed along the shoulder of the road a red line that ran, sometimes curving, sometimes becoming thick and at other times in a spray pattern, running continuously for about a mile. "what's that red paint?" my sister asks. i try to catch a better look at it while i am driving along. "that's not paint; that's blood," i respond, shivering. "kimuchari," my mom mutters ("creepy" or "disgusting in japanese). i notice also a number of forms outlined in chalk next the red line. "it looks like there was some sort of accident," i say. we continue to drive for a while longer, and when we reach our destination, it is daylight. now i am alone, and i have arrived at some conference center or something. i go to the trunk and start taking out my bags. a blond woman, rather young and husky, greets me. "did you hear about the accident?" i say no, though i assume it relates to the weird red line on the freeway. "the police can't figure out how it happened. it's some kind of strange roadkill." when she says that, i realize that the chalk outlines drawn on the asphalt are actually in the shape of animals. cats, birds (road-runners), chipmunks, racoons, possums, and skunks are some of the images i remember. "it's too bizarre to be just roadkill," i respond, "it looks to me like a deliberate slaughter." *there is a small break here in my memory. i can't remember exactly what happens next, and the next part seems disjointed, but there was some way that the two dreams were connected.* i am on the roof top of a building. a group of aliens have made a nest on a platform. maybe i'm a xenobiologist and i'm supposed to study these creatures? at any rate, we have discovered that they can only jump a certain distance, so we have isolated them by removing all available jumping positions. i climb up the ladder to the platform. the aliens are very small, probably no taller than 8 inches. they look like little black cats, except that they stand up on their hind legs. the leader is absolutely stunning, and at times i am so captivated by his beauty that i cannot speak. they are looking for something, which i know that we have, but i am not willing to give it to them without negotiating something in return, namely, that they agree to withdrawl, or if they want to live here, that they do not bother us at all. i go back down and get the object that they want, and then present it to them. it looks like a small pearl encased in mucus (not attractive, i know). greedily, the leader snatches the object away with his mouth. but before he can eat it, i grab him by the neck and try to wrest the tail end of the mucus out of his mouth. "that wasn't part of the deal," i say, as i pry his mouth open. i am squeezing his neck so tight that his eyes are bulging from his head. "no!" he cries out in chagrin, "i must have it!" at that point, i woke up.
january 14, 2003
a strange dream. i am some secret agent or something, and i have infiltrated the house of a mofia boss. i can't really remember what happened, but at one point, i am trying to escape with two other people, a girl (jane?) and a guy i used to know, kalle. at any rate, we are fleeing down the path through the gardens, trying to make it out to the car (a nice black mafia sentinel), which looms just in site. however, it becomes clear that we are not going to make it, as men wearing suits come pouring out of the house. in desperation, kalle distracts them, allowing me and the other girl to escape. i watch as kalle gets shot down. i manage to make it to the car, and somehow get the engine started. i see where kalle's body is, and start driving towards it, steering around the men that are determined to stop us. i skid the car to a stop beside kalle's body, and opening the door, i lean out, pushing some men out of the way, and haul the body back into the car, and drive away. he is alive...
November 11, 2002
Another dream about my father. Is there something about the fall that stimulates my subconscience? This time, he is asleep, and my sister and I are working hard to complete all the chores for that day. My father talks in his sleep, revealing to us all the fears that he has, of failure, his concerns of not having enough money to pay all the bills, that his love towards his family is not enough. There were other things, too, but I can't remember. His voice, talking desperately into the darkness, is what I remember most clearly.
November 5, 2002
A dream last night about my father. I am sitting in the family room of my old house. I look through the sliding glass doors into the patio and notice that the gate is open. I am afraid my dog will go out into the street, so I get up to go close it. As I am doing so, I notice a man walking up the stairs, dressed in a suit. I think it's a sales man, at first, but then I recognize him. It is my father. I open the sliding door to let him in. "I always knew you would come back," I say as I give him a big hug. He smiles. "It took me a long time because I'm really tired. I'm sorry." My mom and my sister show up, and we are all standing in the kitchen, talking. He looks wonderful, he looks fabulous, exactly as I remembered him before he got sick. "I've always been near by, watching you," he says. And then I wake up. It reminds me that some part of me has never truely believed that may father is dead. Some part of me still expects him to come home, some day.
September 26, 2002
A fleeting dream about trying to learn pidgin.
September 17, 2002
Where I live, I can hear the trains as they pass in the middle of the night (that part is fact, not dream). There is something about the sound of the train whistles that stir my conscious mind in my dream state. My ex bofriend used to tell me that sometimes I would talk to the trains as they passed. It hasn't happened for a while, but last night the train sounds did incorporate themselves into my dreams. I can't remember anything specific: people screaming, people talking to me.
September 15
My dreams recently have been extremely realistic, bout work, life, etc etc. Interesting, becaus I get many insights about my life from them, but I think I will spare you the mundanity of it all.
September 8,2002
A vivid dream, this time, though the images are now jumbled in my mind. I should write these dreams down sooner, as my memory tends to lose touch with them very quickly. Again, a dream about the Tarot cards. I drew three cards, one for my past, one for my present, and one for my future. Unfortunately, I do not remember the card for the past. The card for the present was "The Tower." The card for the future was another card which is not in the stardard deck, and which I cannot remember either. Later on, I was at a gaming party, where each room had a set up with a T.V. and a gaming system. Everyone was playing a different game. I remember talking to some of the people there. They were part of a cult and wanted me to join. I was very tempted to join, because one of my friends was a part of the cult, and told me that they were the positive force in the world. But there was something dark and uncertain to me about the situation. The people that I meant somehow did not ring true, did not feel right. Never the less, i was preparing to join. And then the front door opened and four men walked in. This the part that I remember most vividly, the part that still overcomes me with the strength of the emotion. The four men were all dressed in goth clothing, long black cloaks, chains, etc etc. The other three men were silent, but the leader, a tall man with long silver hair, with several long braids, looked at me with clear grey eyes and held out his hand to me. "You should come with us," he says. I looked down at my left hand, and there was a strange symbol there. I reached out that hand to his hand, and as our palms touched I felt a strange sensation, like a bolt of energy pass between us. I am a little alarmed and pull back. There is some part of me that realizes this is the true force, and that I should join them, but I hesitate because of their bizzare appearance, because I know nothing about them.
Analysis: My analysis of this dream is pretty simple, actually. Over and over again I have been told to follow my instincts, to trust my inner voice. I think that this is what the silver haired men in the dream represent. And still I hesitate, unsure really what my instinct is telling me, not willing to commit myself entirely to it. How do I know it is not just a passing whim? Our psyches are so complex, each moment, each thought, each decision triggering yet another series of thoughts and self analysis. Doubts, fears, desires, hopes, all these are mixed into a chaotic mix. How are we supposed to make sense of it all?
September 4,2002
Another collection of images remaining from my dreams last nights, which I swear had more cohesion than is apparent now. I was dealing with a set of Tarot cards, and I laid out one card which I had never encountered before. I wish I could remember what it was, but it was something rather bizarre, a major arcana card. Anyways, I remember trying to look it up, and not being able to find it in any of my reference books. I was frightened because I didn't know what it meant. And then, in another part of my dream, I remember pouring The Most Perfect Glass of Guinness. It was thick, rich, creamy, and I remember taking a sip of it and thinking, "Damn, that's a good beer." Now that is deep.
August 12, 2002
I dreamt about my fish tank last night. I have a lot of unresolved issues about that tank. My ex boyfriend was the avid fish collector, but when we broke up, he didn't want to take the tank, and so I was stuck with it. I hate it, I really do. It's nothing but work, the fish are boring and non interactive, and yet I really can't kill them or anything so I just have to maintain the fish tank until they die, one by one. Isn't that awful? Consequently, I have a lot of guilt about the fish tank, and last night's dream fell into that category. I can't remember the dream specifically, only images of murky water and fish swimming around.
They say that in dreams water symbolizes the subconscience, and I can see elements of this in my fish tank dreams as well. Sometimes there are bizzare creatures in the fish tank, like aquatic rabbits. Once there was a sea of these wierd shrimp kind of creatures. I am both disgusted by and drawn to the fish tank.
August 11, 2002
I am a knight in full armor. I am walking through a garden, a meld between the garden I had as a child and the local botanical garden. I stop and sit down on a rock in the marshy area. I'm not sure how to progress because I have a dilema ahead of me. There is something I need further along in the gardens. But I also somehow know that my destruction lies long the path to aquire that item. I know that there my destiny lies in wait there, but I can choose to do without that item, and become something else entirely. Ultimately, thought, I have no choice. This is my fate, and if I am going to continue to be a knight, I must walk down that path, face the evil, and attempt to aquire the item, regardless of what it may do to me. I reach doewn and stick my hand in the murky water, searching for something among the rushes. Then I wake up.
August 9, 2002
Jumbled dreams last night. I vaguely remember talking to coworkers, interacting with someone I lost touch with long ago, a sun lit room, and a bed. Hmm... sounded like a pleasant dream.
August 6, 2002
I am creating this dream journal in an attempt to recapture my dreams. As a child, I used to have a fantastic array of dreams. For example, two or three days before I got sick, I would get the "sick" dream, and then I would know I would become sick. I also had an extended series of dreams that all took place in a beautiful fantasy world. My entry into the fantasy world was the backyard of the house where I grew up. The back of our house was a huge hill, and in my dreams, I would climb that hill, and instead of running into the neighbor's fence like in real life, the top of the hill extended into this vast prairie. The prairie would run into woods, the woods into mountains in the east, and the sea in the west I would travel there in many different forms, frequently as a hawk or falcon, occassionally as a wolf. These dreams have remained with me, vivid to this day, but it pains me that I do not have such dreams today.
Instead, the dreams that I have these days tend to revolve around everyday mundane activities and anxieties, such as work (the dreaded work dream!), family, etc, etc.
But they say that it writing down your dreams will help both your ability to remember your dreams, and in the quality of the dreams themselves. I also want to try mugwort, Artemisia vulgaris.
I am a lucid dreamer, and while some thing that this is a great thing, I am not so sure that it is. Sometimes it takes away the element of unknowing. Having too much control makes the dream too much like life, and you cannot must take what you see in your dream with a grain of salt.
About dream interpretation: I believe that dreams reflect a part of our psyche, and are important for understanding ourselves. Beyond that... who know? I'm not sure I believe in ta set of standard meanings for symbols. Rather, one has to understand what those symbols mean in one's own life.
Enough preamble. Last night, I had no dreams that I remember.