Date of dream: Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4067 times.
Just a fragment from a few days ago. I take note of it because it seems to be becoming a recurring theme.
I was in a house with other people present; I assume it was supposed to be my brother Eric's house, which he shares with his wife and young daughter, because I recall seeing at least Shannon (sister-in-law) and Rayne (niece). It didn't resemble his house in the least, except in that it seemed to have a hallway with rooms branching off of it. I might have dreamed about it before, though, as I seem to recall that there were two bathrooms, and the only way to get to at least one of them was to pass through someone else's room so it was kind of inconvenient. For example I think one bathroom was Rayne's or else I had to pass within view of her bedroom, and one was reached by passing through my brother's and sister-in-law's bedroom, which was quite big and seemed to have sliding-glass doors to the left overlooking a large body of water. I think it was evening or night.
My mother was there too so we must have been visiting. There was a lot of activity going on but I think mainly I wanted to find the elusive bathroom. I started for one, only to start to pass Rayne's room, and I saw her in bed within, but she was still moving around so I hurriedly ducked back and hoped that she hadn't seen me. Her room was lit very dimly and was kind of messy. In real life Rayne is VERY active and VERY friendly and she was literally all over me when we were visiting, and I hated it. -_-; I knew that if she saw me, she'd get out of bed and want to come to me. Thankfully she didn't seem to notice but that left the issue of reaching the bathroom unresolved. I think I was going to try for the other one, the one in Eric's and Shannon's room, but I believe there was an issue with the flushing, like it wouldn't flush, so I didn't know what to do.
Anyway, for the recurring theme--while wandering this big, disorganized house, I realized through memory that there was a room way at the back which I knew belonged to a wise but forbidding elderly gentleman, like his office or some such. For some reason I really wanted to make my way back there and meet him despite his stern nature. But I think Shannon or some other woman was trying to dissuade me--as I made my way toward the back she came out of somewhere and tried to stop me and gave me all sorts of warnings about how the man wouldn't want me going in there. I didn't feel like listening though, and I believe I was going to continue once she left. For some reason I think of a wooden floor but that might be residue from another dream (see "Anyone There...?"). I don't know why but it was really important to me to try to meet with this man; I was terribly curious about it.
As I said, this dream seems to be recalling dreams I've been having: see "The Eccentric Old Man: A Dream In Four Parts" and "Anyone There...?" I think I might have had additional dreams with this theme but didn't take note of them. Basically, the theme is there's a mysterious "off-limits" room at the back of a building and it belongs to an old man of questionable temperament, and I really want to see it for some reason. No clue what this theme means or if it will continue.
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Date of dream: Monday, July 23, 2007
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4030 times.
A fragment of a longer dream. Kind of vague.
I recall being with a group of people who I somewhat knew--maybe we were all students, I'm not sure. We were walking around and somehow it was conveyed to us that we were going to witness a group punishment of a man who had done something wrong. Suddenly it seemed kind of like some sort of Western town, the Old West, but it was also modern; we were ushered into a big wooden building and peered out some big glass windows with many small square panes. It was quite crowded. I didn't wish to witness whatever was going to happen as I felt it was wrong, but then I nudged my way forward to look outside anyway. It's like I felt compelled to look. We were all shoulder to shoulder and front to back in there and I was jostled a bit.
Outside, the dusty street was crowded with other people, though there wasn't a feeling of the outside actually being "outside"...it's kind of like the street was part of an indoors set, or else the buildings on the other side of the street either crowded close (i. e., the street was quite narrow) or were tall enough to block out sunlight so it seemed kind of unreal. In any event, these people were mobbing this one man--I can't recall what he looked like though I believe he was lean/thin and rather ordinary. He didn't fight much, but then again it's not like he could. He was pushed up against the building we were within and the mob crowded around him. They might have been talking and insulting him, but there was no yelling and screaming as you'd expect with a mob. Instead, this public humiliation, which might have been the prelude to execution, was almost like a sort of stylized ritual.
I recall that at one point some of the people grabbed the man's hands and started placing their lips against his fingernails, possibly kissing them. I knew that this was done to determine the size of his fingernails, but as to its meaning, I don't recall; it was just part of the ritual. I know there was some other sort of thing that was done but I can't recall by now what it was--maybe they were poking him or something. I had the strong feeling that when all of these particular things were done they were going to beat him to death or at least quite badly. Everybody seemed quite bland about this, unconcerned. I still, however, felt it was very wrong, and even though I too seemed affected by this general ennui, I wished to do something about it.
Outside, off to the right among the mob, I saw somebody who I knew was the sheriff of this place. He was the black man who played Trivette on Walker, Texas Ranger--I believe he was even dressed the same, with his light-colored cowboy hat. I stared at him until he somehow looked up and caught sight of me and we made eye contact. I knew he should be putting a stop to this.
First I pointed right at him--indicating that he was the one I was singling out. Then I put my finger to my breast--which was symbolic of his sheriff's badge, and hence his duty as sheriff. Then, not quite sure what else to signal, I made a salute with my hand to my forehead--I felt this wasn't entirely correct, since he wasn't military, but it was the only gesture symbolic of authority and order that I could think of--by it, I meant that he should be taking command and stopping what was happening. Unfortunately, the sheriff had glanced away from me, somewhat guiltily I felt, after I'd put my finger to my chest. He likely wasn't going to prevent the mob from doing whatever it was they were going to do to the man.
I don't recall what, if anything, the man was actually guilty of, nor what happened after that.
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Date of dream: Friday, July 13, 2007
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4001 times.
These are parts of a much longer, more elaborate dream that I won't bother going into.
In one part of the dream I had a small cut on my finger--I believe it was my right index finger, upper (outer) side, but I'm not sure--and I somehow splashed some chocolate pudding of my dad's onto it. It was just a little bit and I believe I wiped it off.
Later on in the dream after various other unrelated things had happened, I noticed that the little cut was red and sore and infected, so I decided to squeeze the pus out of it. In this it was more like a pimple because I was almost expecting something to explode out of it when I squeezed and I was ready to be impressed. ^_^;; Gross, I know. Well, I placed my thumb and forefinger on both sides of the cut and squeezed hard even though it hurt. This took a minute or two to achieve results and I had to keep increasing pressure.
At last a GREAT amount of this thick white matter came out. In color it was shiny and offwhite and the texture was like smooth pudding, only maybe a little thinner. This was the pus. There was a great deal of it, more than could possibly fit inside an entire hand, much less a tiny cut! It didn't make a mess or anything, but I do think I had to squeeze a couple of times to get it all out. I'm not sure what it landed on or of any details like that, but I was surprised and impressed by the amount of pus that had accumulated in my cut. There were perhaps two or three cupfuls.
Then I squeezed the cut again just to make sure there wasn't anything else in it--you know how sometimes when you squeeze a pimple a second time, blood comes out. (Sorry this entry is so disgusting but it's true.) Well, I did this and now a small amount of chocolate pudding emerged from the cut! This surprised me even more. There wasn't nearly as much as the pus (whose resemblance to pudding in texture didn't strike me as curious), but still more than could fit into such a small cut (it was maybe a centimeter long); maybe enough to fill the finger itself. I puzzled over why chocolate pudding was coming out of my cut when it struck me--the pudding of Dad's that had splashed on my hand.
I went to Dad and told him about what had happened when I'd squeezed the cut and explained my theory that it was the pudding itself that had led to the cut becoming infected; some of the pudding had worked its way into the wound and had stayed there while pus built up above it, and so of course when I squeezed it, both materials came out. Dad found my theory sound and nodded in agreement. We both found the incident quite intriguing.
The cut on my finger was still red and sore from all that had come out of it, but at least now I knew that it was clean and would heal properly. I was probably going to wash it off now and spray some antibacterial stuff on it.
And that was the disgusting but most memorable and sensical part of my dream.
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