Dream Journal
Damon, Melissa and I were in a tourist-y gift shop that was full of cheap looking, tourist-y items. In the center of the room was a grotesquely hideous plastic sculpture of a giant marlin-sized fish. The fish was positioned as if it was jumping from the water, but this fish had wings: bright, pink wings.
The wings were attached with springs or the like and wiggled. Dana walked in from the back of the shop and leaned her arm against the fish, making the wings jiggle and flop. She exclaimed how much she loved the fish, and she tried to convince Damon to let her buy it.
There was a sort of talent show being put on at my old church, and it was my turn to sing. I was at the piano holding a styrofoam box with Italian leftovers in it. I placed the pasta on top of the piano.
My mom was supposed to accompany me, but I looked up to see her rush to the back of the sanctuary in order to take pictures. I had to go after her and make sure she came up to accompany me.
She sat down at the organ, but didn’t know how to work the pedals. She complained that her feet didn’t fit on them, and the whole thing was awkward. I told her to use either the keyboard or the piano; it didn’t make much of a difference to me.
This whole time we were in front of the audience; I felt we were taking up too much time. Everyone else was quiet and patient while waiting for us to begin, but I was feeling very awkward and unprepared. I decided to give up my time shop and perhaps go later.
Sitting in a small room, I read to a small elderly woman. I felt as though this reading time was a weekly scheduled event. I am sitting higher than and facing her, as if she were on a couch and I on the coffee table.
As our time together comes to an end, the woman asks if I would come back to read to her another day. I tell her that I would love to, but I needed a phone number where I could reach her. She points to a magazine on the coffee table where I sit and tells me that her number is written in the margin.
I pick up the magazine; sideways in the white margin is a 1-800 number. I am confused as to why she has a toll-free number, but I take it to memory and leave her room.
I now stand in the hallway at my old church. There is a wedding being held at that moment in the sanctuary. Both of my parents were sitting in one of the back rows, and my father encouraged me to sit with them. Instead, I head back down the hallway and slip into another room.
Inside this room is a hard linoleum floor and miscellaneous medical equipment: it looks like a hospital room. Hanging over the door is a fancy showerhead.
I know this showerhead is to be used for medical purposes only, but I want to take a personal shower - one with no medical reason. I turn the water on, only to turn it back off in fear of doing something wrong. I scan the room and hear nothing in the hallway. Again I turn on the water and turn it back off.
The third time I turn on the water I realize that I am now naked. I let my hair out of its ponytail and step backwards into the water. Because I fear using this shower, I do not use soap of any kind; I only stand under the hot water.
Feeling slightly guilty, I quickly turn the water off and open the door. The door now leads into my brother’s living room. I walk over to the front door, still naked, and see B sitting on the stairs. He is facing away from the front door - up the stairs - and apologizes.
I realize he is weeping, but I do not know why he is apologizing. I cannot get him to settle down long enough to tell me what is wrong.
I was washing dishes at work when Dana comes from her office wearing black military boots. She stomps down the hallway and out onto the porch; I follow. The day is bright and sunny.
She comes back in and complains that there are a group of fleas following her everywhere. She claims that they are echoing her footsteps and making it seem to other people like she is stomping quite loudly, and making it seem to herself that someone is walking directly behind her. She is frustrated, but I don’t know what to do to help fix her flea problem.
Karen steps out of her office and walks toward a window. The handle of a broom is sticking through the glass. She tells me this is the third time in the past hour that the broom has slid through the glass. Annoyed, she props the broom up against the wall where it belongs.
B and I move into a new apartment that is located on the university campus located on the tundra very far north. We unpack box after box from the truck and haul it inside. The interior of the building is very nice. The floors are beautiful hardwood, and the rooms are quite spacious. I comment to B that this apartment is much bigger than our last on-campus apartment, and we’re paying less for this one. I was pleased with it.
Unpacking boxes, some music comes on in the foyer of the apartment building. There are only four apartments in the building, and I can tell this blaring music is coming from the common entryway. I look up from the floor of my living room, through a glass wall and into the foyer. It is empty. I walk into the foyer to find this music’s source, and end up outside in the middle of the tundra far from the building.
B and I are lying on a bench in this tundra: he on his back and I his stomach. We are kissing with enthusiasm as the sun sets. I wonder why we are not cold this far north when we are not even wearing jackets. He no longer wants to kiss so we get up.
I am now standing in front of a large desk, sill far away from any building. There is a man behind this desk who is full of information. I ask him many questions about the school and all of the programs.
With a sweep of his hand, he indicates to the tundra before him (and behind me) where many other university students are wandering. He tells me that this far north campus only offers two-year degrees. I am worried about not being able to study chemistry, but he assures me that I can get my chemistry finished in two years.
B, another person, and I were walking down the beach in Homer carrying buckets and shovels. At a nice spot, we stop and drop to our knees. Using my hands, I dig deep into the wet mucky sand, and pull out a clam. I am trying to teach B and this other person how to dig for clams.
I sink in my arms again and pull out a lot of sand and dirt. Sifting through it with my fingers, I come across a small ball of roots. I explain that these roots belonged to the clam I just dug out. Looking into the hole, I watch as a clam foot digs farther into the muck. I glance over at B and see that he and the other person both had four or more clams at their knees. I feel inadequate as a teacher because they are doing so much better than I.
Since everyone is ready to start clam digging with full force, we step back to get the shovels and buckets. I grab the shovel with the longest handle. This is the spade shovel B and I just bought this weekend; I know this because its sticker is still attached to the head.
B thinks he should use the new shovel because of its extended length, and I playfully keep it away from him. After a bit of playful banter, I trade spades with him. I step forward and give him a big hug and a kiss; while I do, the handle of the shovel he is holding rubs me between my legs and feels very good.
Our kissing becomes more passionate and we drop the shovels. I take off my glasses, and he leads me to a soft spot in the sand where we both sit. Making out, he plays with my clitoris and brings me close to orgasm.
Glancing up, I see the rough figure of a person coming around the bluff point 20 feet away. I try to stop B, but am overcome by pleasure. This figure come closer and verbally interrupts us. I leap off of his lap and lunge for my glasses sitting in the sand a few feet away.
This person is foreign, a tourist, and knows little English. He mentions something about his truck not being able to get back because of the flooded river. This greatly confuses B and I, and we try hard to understand. As we look back the direction we originally came, we see that the tide has come in quite suddenly and is very high.
We panic that we might not be able to get back because of the high water line. Using the time that we still have, we sprint the few miles back to the opening of the beach. Here we saw the foreigner’s vehicle - a white Volvo - sitting on one side of what looked like a flooded river. On the other side was the hill to the park and parking lot that connects the town to the beach.
There is a couch that we have to push up this small hill and into the parking lot. I watch as B and the foreigner and a few other men try with all their might to get the couch over the tip of this small hill. Every time, the flooded river pushes it back down.
I step closer to the couch and give a few suggestions. B doesn’t understand what I am suggesting, so I grab the couch and show him. Immediately, it goes over the hill where it belongs. I was proud that I knew how to solve the problem.
It was a warm, late summer day, and there was a wedding being held in the field behind my parents’ shop. I wore a long skirt and was enjoying the festivities. When the reception was over, I headed back for my parents’ house.
There were so many cars parked next to the shop that in one place only one person could squeeze through. I was behind Jami, a classmate from high school, and had to considerably slow my pace while waiting for her to move through the small space. After I went through, I caught up with her and told her that the reception was over and the ceremony would start as soon as everyone made it to his or her seats.
I ran to the bottom door of the house and went inside the basement. I took the stairs two at a time and dashed into the room Melissa and I had shared to grab my camera. There I saw Simon (of minor9th.com) and three others lying on the two beds, talking and laughing.
I asked Simon if I could use his digital camera for the ceremony. He thought he might want to take a couple of pictures himself, and didn’t want to be without a camera. He swung his legs off of the twin bed, bent into his sack and removed his digital camera.
His camera was really small and sleek: it was perhaps two inches wide and five inches long. It was also shiny silver, and I thought it beautiful. The other three people also had digital cameras, but none were as nice as Simon’s. I found my camera, and was embarrassed that it was black and looked like a regular 35mm camera.
I went back outside and ran up by the chicken coop. In the chicken yard a set of bleachers had been set up facing the coop; the bleachers were nearly full. I stood at the bottom with my camera looking up for someone that I couldn’t find.
I was driving up my parents’ driveway, following some other cars driven by friends. I swung the corner wide and went through the trees, then back onto the road.
At my parents’ house, I turned to walk back down the road. Just ahead of me, I saw my grandparents in a white truck driving down the road. I didn’t want to catch up with them because I knew I would have to talk to them. But my wheel was very hard to control.
I pulled back on the reigns, which pulled the wheel off of the ground; but that just removed any friction and caused me to speed up.
I was then standing at the bottom of my parents’ road waiting for the school bus, just like I did while in school. There was a large table set up by the road. It was high enough that I could just barely see what was on it. I placed one object at the far back of the table.
Dana appeared and was eating some yogurt. She told me that she had baked a whole batch, and then tried to get me to come back to the house. Damon walked out from behind her looking more than concerned for me. He went to give me a big hug, and I thought this odd because he’s not much of a touchy person.
Just before he hugged me, I saw that he had shaved his goatee and left a small moustache. His lips twitched in such a way that he looked just like Marty. I told him this as he hugged me. He then asked why I was standing down at the end of the road. I said that I was waiting for the bus. He and Dana exchanged a look that screamed they were worried for my sanity.
I asked if it wasn’t 7:47 - that is when the bus comes to get us. He said that it was 7:47, but it was in the evening, not the morning. I felt foolish that I had awoken at the wrong time, and we went back to the house.
Inside, Melissa was standing in her room with Damon and I. She was wearing a t-shirt, black jeans, and had her hair up in a ponytail. I was shocked that she was here because she was supposed to be dead. I knew that she was a ghost, and that I could ask her anything just as if she were alive. I wanted to hug her, and I though of all the questions I wanted answered. But I asked her none. All I could do is stare as she interacted with Damon.
Themes: Melissa
I walked up to a couch on which a handful of my male high school friends were sitting. I sat down with B on my right and Bjorn on my left. Ryan was standing and talking to everyone on the couch. He knelt down in front of me and asked if he could give me a hug. I agreed, and then he said that he shouldn’t because he didn’t want to embarrass me.
I reach my hand down and covered my tuft of pubic hair, lowering my eyes, as I was embarrassed to be sitting naked in the midst of these boys. But Ryan meant my breasts, and then loudly declaimed, “World peace,” as though my breasts were the source of such peace.
Themes: Ryan
I was sitting at a small desk in a large classroom. There were many other peers also sitting in desks, and I recognized them all as classmates from high school. But this wasn’t high school; this was a special class. I watched as Miriam walked in from the door that was located behind me. She took her seat directly to my left, and I noticed she was naked. I was aghast that someone would be so casually naked in such a strict and notable classroom.
I turned forward and waited for class to begin. After a while, the teacher walked in. She had long hair up in a bun and wore a long dress. Without a word, she began preparing our lesson at the table that was behind me and on my right.
She spoke my name and I turned towards her. She asked me to pass out the books to each student. I stood and took a stack of books and began placing them at each student’s desk. There seemed to be hundreds of students seated in the room.
After a long while, my books turned into single sheets of paper. I was out on a street still passing out these papers to students in desks. A truck drove by with 6 young foreign men sitting at a table in the back of the truck. I quickly made sure that each person got one.
I went around to the other side of the block and found more foreign men. All of them were dressed in a dark uniform. I made sure they all got a paper. One of them looked at it and did not understand because he did not know English. Only then did I notice what was written on the paper: it gave dates, times, and places of a military attack.
I then realized that the foreign men in front of me were the enemy, and I had just given them detailed information about our surprise attack. I ran back to my camp.
I arrived on the deck of a large cruise ship. Enemy soldiers were beginning to invade: they decided to strike before our scheduled surprise attack. I saw one of our soldiers hiding in his small quarters holding his sword, ready to defend himself. I dove in with him and pulled a bright red blanket over me, hoping that no one would notice I was there. The soldier’s commanding officer came and demanded he get out of his bunk and fight; he left me.
One enemy soldier entered a large foyer-like area. He was extremely tall and extremely wide, much like a bodybuilder. He had a machine gun in each hand. A woman with blonde hair in a long ponytail ran after him and jumped on his back. She carried a long, curved sword with the edge on the inside of the curve.
She used her sword to chop off the large enemy’s head. But his fingers were still on the triggers of his gun, and he sprayed bullets everywhere as his head rolled away. The woman had to cut off the man’s arms to get him to stop shooting; he finally fell to the ground after her sword went through his heart.
I was now the woman with the long blonde ponytail, standing over the enormous soldier. A small dog ran up to me and I made one smooth wipe with my arm and swiftly sliced its head off. The dog looked like my dog Lacey. She was lying on her side dead, but was not bleeding.
In walked three men dressed for an afternoon at a country club. They stopped at the dog, and one of the men became furious. I realized this man was the general, and I had just killed his son.
It was night, and a few of us were walking through a small cluster of buildings in the woods. The buildings had been there for perhaps a hundred years, yet the buildings were still in very good condition.
We walked past one building and I could see inside as though the walls were not there. I saw a girl of perhaps 15 years with long, dark brown hair and fair skin. She was assembling all of the young adults and children from the village into this room. I saw that the floor was covered in a foot or so of water, and wondered why no one was concerned.
I watched as this girl went to the one corner of the room (the back right corner, as I was looking at it) and flip a switch. This switch sent a powerful electric current through the floor, killing every person and child who stood in the room.
I was shocked and horrified that such a tragedy happened, and I knew that I was watching a replay of an identical event that occurred many years before. Our small group had stopped to watch the terror, and then resumed walking in silence.
I glanced back to see the girl with long hair stand up from the water, walk outside and lock the front door. She stood in the middle of the pathway staring at us. I knew she was a ghost, but was unnerved that she was even able to look at us, not through us.