Date of dream: Saturday, May 08, 2010
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
Rating:
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 154 times.
…My parents have been fighting. I think my mom has left. My dad explains that he has gambling problem (no he doesn’t!), and when he plays with money, it makes my mother have nervous breakdowns. Maybe she is at the hospital… I am leaving town with my colleagues to go at the call centre’s retreat in a little isolated cottage next to a convenience store in front of the fleuve Saint-Laurent. My cute colleague is there with his girlfriend. He is in the process of choosing between me and her. His dog is also here, except it's made out of Oreo cookies. (?!?) I am being told that I can eat one. I take the easiest one to pick. When I am about to eat it, I realize I took its butt. I wonder if I should put it in my mouth. But who cares? It’s just a cookie! So I take a bite. The white middle is actually made of marshmallows, so it’s not really an Oreo. The whitish marshmallow stuff is melting and dripping out of the cookie to leave a spot on the floor, right in front of me. It looks like I just… Ha ha ha!!! …My mom is here. She says we are about to leave, that I should take a bath or a shower before. There is a bathroom with a bath and another with a shower. I have two… no: three apples in my bag. No: they are displayed on a shelf in one of the bathrooms. They are starting to rot. I pick the less rotten one. I am going to eat it in the bath… No: in the shower… We are leaving in a car. I am on the backseat next to an old lady. There is a lot of luggage, and also a guitar. There is no room, so I try to reorganize the disposition of the many bags and the guitar. I take the old lady’s handbag and tell her I’ll put it back on her knees when I’m done. I tell the driver I put the guitar behind his seat, the strings facing the backseat, just so he (or she?) doesn’t move back the driver’s seat. But we are already in front of the airport. I take my bag and I get out of the car with the old lady, leaving my task unfinished. We are in a large room in the airport and I have to walk her up some stairs. For some reason, I leave my bag downstairs. I am just walking her to where she has to go; I’ll come back after; I’m going somewhere else. Maybe I am not allowed to bring it. (Still, it’s a dumb decision.) As I help her climbing the stairs, she reprimands me for not putting her handbag back on her knees. But I never had time to finish my task of reorganizing the bags and the guitar. And besides, she has her handbag right as we speak. So what’s the big deal, old lady? I go back downstairs and – I should have expected this – my bag has disappeared. They must have thought there was a bomb in it. I am sort of hyperventilating, looking everywhere around the room. What about my clothes? My wallet? When I am about to give up, I find it next to a table where three Arab girls are sitting. I shout at them that this is my bag. They say it’s not. I open it and see my things. They all look embarrassed. I ask them (in English) “Do you want ME to steal your bags?”…
Date of dream: Saturday, May 01, 2010
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Rating:
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 187 times.
...A bus just crashed in a car. CRASH... Outside the bus, I see a building, probably in Montréal. Maybe on the fifth or the sixth floor, there is a party, and I'm invited. There is a lot of people I used to know: from my hometown (Gatineau), from elemetary and high school, from general and vocational college, from university: old friends and colleagues whom I can't even remember the name. And I recognize one of them - I think her name was M.-E. - a girl, a nerd who needed friends... we went to university together, and she knew I liked to rave... she has invited herself this one time, but she didn't want to take drugs... she did dance, but she fell asleep at like 4 AM... she took the first metro back home... well, she is here. She is running towards the open balcony yelling something like: "I can't take it anymore!" or "I'm fed up!", or anything. She jumps down head first from the balcony, clinging on to a guy's arm, whom she brings down with her to smash on the pavement. Everybody's like "Oh my God!" We look down to the pavement from the balcony, and we can see their bodies on the street. Surprisingly, there is no blood, but they are obviously dead. I tell my friends that we have to get out of here. I want to leave this place right now. But one of them is necking with this guy. There are also videos of me necking with this guy (obviously another one) playing on a dozen of TV sets in the room. I am so embarrassed: I never agreed to... There is a tornado outside... A girl jumping from the 7th floor, carrying an anonymous boy with her... He never agreed to... I escape the high school through a slide that leads to the landing stage... Then, there is a Justin Timberlake show in the high school's agora. I don't enjoy his music. I sulk... Someone is pushing me home in a wheelbarow. We see a nice, full rainbow. I want to take a picture. I am taking out my camera. As I am being pushed next to the rainbow, I hit the end of the it with my shoulder, and an attitude. I can't take a goddamn picture: it's too shaky, and we are passing the site too quickly. My parents are pushing the wheelbarrow... Someone tells me somebody else is calling me a big ham... I am being told that there is another representation of J. T.'s concert in two hours. Oh no...
