Wednesday, March 15, 2017

Gar (pseudo-nightmare)

I started off in a van, trying to catch a flight. I forgot everything I needed in another suitcase, which I had not brought with me. I was panicked and trying to phone people to help me, which I was sure I was going to miss my trip. Somehow, I either spent the night in the parking lot at the airport, or I drove back and returned. The flight no longer mattered for some reason. I think...there were nice people at the airport who helped me? I don't recall ever actually getting on the plane.

Then I was looking for fishing poles at a store. Dad and my sister were there, and a Japanese family. They were tourists, and we were in an odd version of my hometown. The poles were picked over, and I could feel mounting pressure from my family to hurry up and find a pole - they were going to make fun of me. I could feel anger welling up inside - it was important that I find a pole with a reel on it, and not a fly-fishing pole! I finally found an acceptable one, and told everyone to be quiet about it.

We drove behind the college to Lake Banet - but it was not Lake Banet. I've dreamt of this version of Lake Banet before - it's large and primordial.

"Tell them the story of the Horror," Dad said.

"Well, legend tells of the Horror, who has lived in this lake for over two-thousand years..." I began, getting out of the van. I took my pole to the sandy, foggy-water shore. There were no cattails or rushes, which did not strike me as odd. My plan was to catch a small fish to show the tourists. I cast my line into the water, and after a short time the bobber disappeared and made a fast beeline for the side shore. There were no rushes there, which was puzzling, but I started to reel in the line.  I thought for sure it was going to be a small bluegill or perhaps a small bass, but as I pulled the line in the shape of the fish grew larger and larger.

"Oh wow!" yelled Dad. "Look at that!"

I pulled an enormous gar to shore, taller than I was and fat. It was ancient - a prehistoric fish. It had no real fins, but was shaped like a giant eel, with aquamarine and green scales the color of recycled glass and as wide as my hand. As I pulled it in, I saw that my hook was embedded in its upper mouth.   I was relieved and happy about this - it meant that I could easily remove the hook and let the fish go. I twisted the line and brought the gar over to my family and the tourists, letting the fish swim lazily in front of them. It twisted against the hook, opening and closing its mouth in frustration. and everyone laughed nervously.

"Go ahead, you can touch it," Dad said.
"Just be careful of the scales - they're as sharp as razors," I added.  The tourists giggled and stroked the gar's side. Just then the gar twisted on the line again, and several of its scales stuck out from its body like broken glass. It rolled away like a crocodile and swam with the line towards me, and I had to back up. Suddenly I realized that I was being edged backwards, away from shore. I could still touch the bottom, but the gar fixed and eye on me and continued to twist towards me.

"Uh oh, looks like he's figured you out!" called Dad.

The gar got closer, and I tried to back away from the razor sharp scales. I formed a "u" around me as I waded backwards further into the cloudy golden waters...


I heard myself whimpering from far away.

I woke with a start at 5am, frightened.

I have dreamed of this lake before - I don't know if it's here in the blog (I believe it is), but in my dreams the lake is named after one near where I live, yet does not resemble the lake at all. Giant, dinosaur fish swim in it. The last time I dreamt of the lake, the waters were clear and I could see the giant fish in it - even then it made me uneasy to look at them. There were also small mud pots and small steam vents.  This time the waters were different - murky, but almost lit from within and golden in color like sand that has been upturned in a current.

If you don't know what a gar is - here is a picture

Thursday, March 9, 2017


I was in a plane/spaceship, by myself. It was dimly lit, and the interior was small but not cramped. The ship was going down. I knew this because of the pitch of the ship, but there really weren't any good windows around me. There were screens and gauges, but I was in the back of the plane. As the ride grew bumpy, I made my way back to the impact harness, which was composed of heavy beanbags in a small floral print. As I strapped in, I texted my Dad that I loved him.

I realized, just before impact, that I could be in the cockpit trying to raise the nose so as not to crash headlong into the unknown, but I didn't move. Too late, I realized. I felt the plane hit something, and then the "camera" panned out and showed a field strewn with wreckage at the base of a low mountain range. I was looking through a window, still in part of the wreckage. I could see a river in front of me, and plains of tall grey/green grass. Mountains ringed the area, and around the river bend there were low sandstone bluffs. And there was alien life. I saw strange animals that looked like a mix between a coyote, badger, and maybe some sort of lynx or rat, moving up the banks.

I climbed out of the ship and onto the ground, and got out my phone. My battery was dying. I walked around a little ways until I met the aliens. They were smaller than I was, bipedal, and they had withered grey skin and deep set black eyes.

I don't remember what happened here - I met them, but then they went away and I kept exploring? Then we met again and they took me to their elder, who I identified as some sort of shaman.

When he saw my phone, he said, "Another one who wonders." I could understand him because there were subtitles under him when he spoke. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I understood that he would not answer me. He led me along the sandstone bluffs and through the grasses to a height. I looked down and saw my spaceship in pieces, scattered and smoldering. My phone lit up to say I was connected to wifi, and I immediately started recording video. I sent it to Stephen, because I knew he'd send it on to the right people.

The aliens (who in-dream I began to compare to Native Americans), walked with me through the landscape. I never saw where they lived, but I saw strange shapes in the sky that were not always birds. Then, at one point, I saw three planes. They were not like any planes I've ever seen - they had wings, and propellers of some sort, but their elevators physically swished like fishes' tails. They moved in a military formation over the valley, and started shooting lasers at something over the ridge. I realized it was my ship, and I took off running.

When I got to where my ship should have been, there was nothing left except for a bit of wire and some circuits buried in the sand. I was more suspicious than angry. How did such advanced technology exist alongside such a pastoral landscape?

"They come and clean up all the proof," said the Shaman. "It is the way." I looked to the distance, and all at once I could see a city a long way away, full of red and black cylinder buildings. What puzzled me even more was that, in a hazy middle distance between where we stood on the hilltop and the city, the whole world disappeared. In front of me was a desk, covered with keyboards and screens. It looked like a tidy, but crowded, workstation, like something from a government agency. It was giant compared to me, except I thought it looked normal sized.

I had a realization - this whole alien world was small, and I was small on it. The desk - the workstation was either where I was and I had shrunk, or the workstation was giant and the rest of us were normal sized. These aliens did not realize that they were small, that their whole existence fit into a crevice in the corner of a workroom. I turned around and the alien world stretched out before me, seeming huge. How could the perspective be so different?


The dream moved on, with me leaving the aliens on a sort of journey to the city. I rode a railroad through another miniature time, this one vaguely Germanic with candles and homemade goods. At one point I was at a garden show, and Amy Poehler and Will Arnett were showing off their wagon full of flower pots.

I did not reach the city.

Friday, September 30, 2016

Packs a Kick

I was in a hotel room. There was a gun on the table - a sniper rifle. I knew that I should not load the rifle, because it would blow a hole in the wall. But I was really tempted to pull the trigger on the unloaded gun. I did so, and a massive discharge of air went off, and blew a hole in the wall. I was scared and confused. I looked through the hole in the wall, and saw that the impact had blasted a similar hole in the next room, and the next, and the next. It went on farther than I could see - a series of holes in these cheap brown laminate wood walls.

I remember I was scared to explain myself to my Dad. I set the rifle down and saw another, smaller hole in the wall. This hole was obviously caused by a handgun bullet. I realized that the wall was full of small bullet holes, but that the rifle had caused the largest hole. I didn't know how to explain that I hadn't fired the rifle - that it hadn't been loaded when it went off.

I didn't have an explanation, and when Dad arrived I couldn't explain it. He didn't seem too upset, as I recall. 

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Threats in the City

Oh wow - has it really been a *YEAR* since I wrote last?

I could've sworn I...well, clearly I didn't.

Shame on me.


I was in a city - it was like London, but also Venice. Canals everywhere.

(I've dreamed of this city before, but it was sunny).

I had my suitcases and I was looking for my hotel. I saw several cathedrals, but not the one I was looking for. And the ferris wheel was in the wrong place. I got into a taxi and he drove me through the city. Finally, he stopped a a familiar intersection (from an old dream, I remembered we were near the train depot). I realized I had not changed my dollars to pounds, but there was a ten dollar bill on the seat and he took it as payment. I tried to say that the money was there before I sat down, and that I knew the fare was far more than ten dollars, but he was happy and unloaded my suitcases and didn't listen.

Looking around, I crossed over some canals on the roads and realized he did not drop me off in the right place.  I kept seeing things that looked familiar, but not correct.

Above the skyline, a hologram was showing this history of the city. It was really cool - they projected the old architecture growing up throughout the years, overlaid with the actual architecture in front of me. I wanted to stay and watch, but the sun was setting and I didn't want to be out in the dark. There was a menace in the air, somehow.

As I walked, I became aware of someone following me close. I got nervous, but tried not to show it. I walked a little faster, but the man kept pace,  and there were two of them now. Then one of them grabbed me around my upper arms and lifted me off the ground. There was a gang of boys, and I kicked out but could not get away. They were laughing at me.

Then one said he knew me - that I had lived with his family for a time. I remembered as well, but the city was wrong. He said I lived with them in Lustin, but that wasn't the right city. He put me down, and I was angry because they had played such a mean joke. But the thing was, they didn't stop feeling menacing. It was like they realized they couldn't do whatever it was they were going to do, because this one guy knew me. We made uneasy small talk as I started walking along again.


I was prepping for the TD gaming event. Room one. A party was there, but everything was disorganized. They ate the salad props, and the NPC didn't know what to do. They solved the room, but messed it up for the next parties...


Yeah, I remember that city. In the first dream, it was sunny and I was trying to get away from some...I think they were guards? But it was a European type city, with canals, trams, and roads. Sort of like all the cities I've been to in Europe got smushed together.

Friday, May 1, 2015

Africa and (Captain) America

This dream was very intricate, and I know I won't get it all, but here goes:

I had a crew and we had an airplane, like a giant helicopter. The dream started with us getting in a helicopter and me trying to brief everyone on the mission. It was dark at a chaotic airfield. My pilot didn't really know how to fly, and I tried to help/watch and learn as he operated two sets of hand controls and a comically large brake/foot pad. The front of the helicopter was glass and sort of domed, so that the pilot and gunner sat in the bottom of the dome, and the rest of the team was on the bridge behind them.

I could see outside of myself, that we were not doing a good job. Everyone was tense, but not angry. More like bitchy - we were all getting fed up with each other in a long-term relationship sort of way. We either failed to take off, or sort of crashed back down.

I gave everyone a pep talk about doing better next time, but there was fatigue in the air.  It was raining now, and one of my crew (Jonathan A) was secretly very ill. He told me in an aside - there were a lot of quiet asides in this dream where dramatic conversations took place - and I was very worried for him. Steve Rogers was also there, and he was incredibly supportive.

Our commander - Richard Ryan the fight choreographer - gave us another chance. However as I climbed up into the belly of the plane/helicopter, I noticed that I was down a few crew members.
"Where is everyone?" I asked. My remaining crew told me they were sick or something like that. I felt my stomach drop out of me, but I tried to be brave. "Alright, I can fly it," I said.

"Really?" Asked one of my crew.
"Well, no, I'm not a pilot. But I'll figure it out." I sat down at the controls, and immediately the helicopter started bucking about in the bad weather. I did figure it out - sort of. The hand levers controlled pitch and speed, while the foot pad did something about turning. It was really complicated and I didn't know what I was doing. Still, we only banged into a couple of buildings before I finally got us above the base and in open air where I could afford to make mistakes.

But then all of a sudden we were over Germany. I don't know how we got there, and I was still not good at flying the ship. We hurled towards the ground, and I realized too late that we were just above the target we needed to destroy. It was this big barn thing with what appeared to be a giant, steep, ramp coming out of one side of the roof. Instead of blowing up this barn, I accidentally flew inside it and banged around like a toy.  We blinked out and found ourselves back at our home base. I was very confused because outside everyone was angry with us, but I thought we had done pretty well given the circumstances.

The next night, I came back to try for a third time. I felt very confident because I had found the target at last. But when I climbed into the belly of the plane, I found that the cockpit had been transformed into a series of cubicles. I couldn't get to the controls anymore. My crew was gone, except for Steve Rogers. He told me we were grounded. I told him - strongly - that I wasn't going to let it happen. Then I went to find the Commander. I told him we deserved another chance, that we had improved and I knew what to do now. The higher ups weren't willing to listen to me. I gave a big speech or something about doing a good job.

"Come with me. I might have a position for you," the Commander said, leading me away from the airfield. His secretary was with him, a beautiful lady. I was very worried he was going to try and make a pass at me, that I would get mistreated because I was a woman and I didn't know if I would say no or yes if he forced me to trade sex for the opportunity to fly again.

"You will go to Africa. Fly around the mountains at night and look for fires."
"Mountains?" I tried to explain that I wasn't much of a pilot to do something that complicated. He implied that I didn't really have a choice, but that I would get to keep my plane and that it was a good job. I felt giddy because he was on my side after all, and hadn't let me get fired.

I ran back to the ship, but my crew had left me. Except for Steve Rogers. He sat on the ladder with his pack and smiled. "I'll always have your back," he said. I was so grateful.

Now, amid all this drama, there was character drama sometimes. Someone - one of my crew members who might have been Jeremy Piven? - had asked me to marry him. I had my reservations, but it seemed like no one else was interested and so I said yes. Then I realized that I loved Steve, and he was the only one who was there for me when it mattered. So I was conflicted about what to do.

The scene cut to night in Africa. I had landed and was in a tiny room. I don't know how I got there. I had a bed and a table and the place seemed comfortable, if spare. There were noises outside and I was nervous. I was more nervous of the mosquitos - I really didn't want to get malaria. I climbed into my bed and shut the netting.

External shot of daytime rising on the plains. I woke up and made my way to a jeep. My house was surprisingly pretty, sitting alone on a blank sort of prairie. A dusty road wound in front of my driveway, and in the jeep Steve and I made our way to a big building that looked like a barracks. It turned out to be a church of sorts. The pastor was a Marine in a tan workout shirt, and the families were mostly caucasian, which I thought was odd. They must have been expats.

It was at this point someone pointed out that I was married, or engaged. Steve's shoulders visibly slumped, as though he'd been punched. I panicked because I was in the process of not being engaged specifically for him. I tried to explain it, but the service was starting. He did let me hold his hand, which somehow made it ok. The service was nice - militaristic and about duty and family. There were  children moving about, playing and passing around collection plates.

Then it got very weird. For some reason, what we had done back on that chaotic German run had messed up a timeline. Neither Steve nor I were supposed to wind up in Africa on fire patrol. The timelines had gotten all flipped around. The air sort of crackled around us as things started to warp at the incorrectness. Steve suddenly got very weak, like before he became Captain America. Then he was back, but it was like he was fluctuating. I grabbed him and carried him to the jeep, and our driver started driving to the hospital. I held him to me, even though he was bigger than I was.
"Don't you worry - I'll always have your back," I said.


Whew! Ok, so that was the bare bones of the dream. There was a lot of melodrama and dark comedy in the beginning. And I knew everyone, sort of, in my dream - like I knew Jonathan, and Richard, and  Chumly (from Veep), and we weren't really interacting but then we were interacting strongly. I was myself, but like many of my dreams I was mostly watching myself in the dream, able to hear my own  internal thoughts because they were my own (mind bending!). I don't remember who the guy was that I had hastily agreed to marry even though I didn't love him, but I have a vague feeling it was Jeremy Piven.

Captain America is easily my favorite Avenger, and Chris Evans might be my only celebrity crush at present. So it very satisfying to have a dream where we were each other's support. 

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Blood Puppy (Nightmare)

I dreamed I awoke in the middle of the night, because I heard a chewing sound. Looking over my bed, I saw the puppy had chewed through her cast and also her leg. I went over to stop her, but she bounded out of her cage. Her leg was shredded and bits of flesh hung down.

I kept trying to stop her, but she kept eluding me. I called the vet. They put me on hold. I was weeping because they wouldn't listen to me.

When I finally got ahold of her, she was covered in blood. Her leg was whole somehow, but bleeding everywhere. I kept trying to wipe it away, but I couldn't find a wound. She was gleeful, chewing on her own muscles and ripping herself apart. I couldn't make her stop.


Perhaps what makes this so frightening is that overwhelming sense of helplessness. The blood was pretty awful, but it was more not being able to fix it.

Friday, March 20, 2015

Canals and Cakes

This was a strange dawn-like dream, and I only remember a little bit of it:

There was a city, where the streets were canals. There was a large church on a block, for example. The fog was heavy, but the sun was shining.

At one point, there was a cake competition. All these princesses showed up with cakes that looked like their faces. But none of them won the competition. Suddenly I had to make a cake ( I was not particularly interested), but my cake wouldn't look like a face. I had to make an "evil eye" cake, which was supposed to ward off bad spirits, or something like that.

Anyway I got help from a gondolier with a mop of black curls - he seemed nice, and rowed me all around the city.


Ah, I remember - before this part of the dream I was in a video game simulation. It was a zombie game, but I was so bored by it because it felt like I'd already gone through it several times. My teammates and I were in a rural town that hadn't been affected yet, and there was a gear store. One of the guys in my team wanted a bow with a bug zapper string - he didn't want to pay for it. I warned him that messing with the town's stuff was dangerous when they didn't know zombies were coming. He didn't listen, and a crowd of townspeople beat him to death. Then the simulation started over.

This part of the dream was in a series of huge tunnels, like grain elevators laid on their sides. At one point I had to climb a long spiral staircase around the inside of one of the tunnels.


I'm not sure about this dream. I don't remember if the zombie video game bit was frightening or not. I seem to recall that I was frightened in the dream at times, because there were zombies to fight and chases and such.

As for the gondolier and the cakes - there was so much more plot there that I cannot remember. Perhaps I should go back to writing down my dreams in the morning, rather than right before I go to bed. Transcribe from my dream journal...