Saturday Morning, October 18th, 2008

Ok, so last night I was fighting some demi-god rock monster while driving a Testarossa around a parking structure and things were blowing up everywhere.  That’s all I got.

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

While the dream last night was long, disjointed, and unconnected, what sticks out most in my memory is preparation being made for some kind of galactic sporting event being held on earth.  The stadium was to be so big that they had to excavate it with a laser from space.  From the looks of it, the oval of the stadium was about the size of colorado.  Once completed and inside there was every manner of species filling the place.  The species were divided into concentric circles in the stands, and humans, despite being the hosts of this event, had to sit almost at the very back.

Thursday Morning, July 10, 2008

I realize it’s been months since I posted anything here, but once again, I’m going to try and pick it up.

 

In my dream last night, I was looking at an apartment.  It was gorgeous, huge (must have been 6000 sqft), super cheap, and seemingly perfect.  I walk out onto the porch, however, and what do I see but the Liberty Science Center, a great science museum… in New Jersey.  This terror revelation is the last thing I remember, but I don’t think we got the apartment.

Saturday Morning, May 3rd, 2008

It’s been a while since I’ve posted here, but I had a dream last night that, while brief, I thought worthy of posterity.  All I remember of the dream is that I was watching a music video, shot in slow motion, of girls running through a few inches of water, in tennis outfits, hitting tennis balls and splashing each other.  I would appreciate it if someone made this video.  

Monday Afternoon, April 21st, 2008

     Since I’ve been too busy to record the dream until now, almost everything about it has faded away except for the very distinct themes of drowning and wizards.  I don’t think the two were related.  

Sunday Morning, April 20th, 2008

I only remember one segment from last night’s dream, but it was a vivid one.  The plot revolved around a group of my fellow design classmates conspiring to kill other members of the school of design.  I don’t know who was in charge of the group but I found out about it by accident when I happened upon them tricking Ash Huang into going down into this spooky basement, locking her in a room, and proceeding to fill it with gas.  I knew about the murder, but couldn’t say anything for fear of my own life.  I didn’t know where to turn, especially when people started asking questions about where Ash had went.  There was a very real sense of fear and dread that my life would be taken from which I was very relieved to wake up.

Friday Morning, April 11th, 2008 – Supporting Visual

This is what the cover of the book looked like that I found in the April 11th dream.

Friday Morning, April 11th, 2008

     I didn’t have a chance to post this dream until today because I’ve been at the IDSA Mid-East Conference.  It was actually a lot of fun, but the hotel charged aproximately One Million Dollars for internet.  Thus, the title and the posting date don’t match up.

 

     The dream began with myself and Zoe Pinfold on vacation in a tropical local.  We were browsing around some gift shop when I came across a book that puzzled me.  The book was titled “Michael Levy and Hannah Levy” and written by Joe Levy and Holli Levy and had the two tone minimalist look of a penguin book (white and blue, thin leader lines and everything).  I stared at the book, unsure of what it was or how it got here, when suddenly, someone came frantically running into the store shouting about a revolution and roving armed men on looking for american tourists with murderous intent.  I dropped the book and we ran for the back.  I realized that there was no way I was ever going to find that book again and urged Zoe to go on while I went back for the book.  Instead of just taking it, however, I decided that I had to pay for it up at the counter.  It cost three dollars and I struggled in my wallet to find the correct bills, all the while, knowing that one of these revolutionaries could burst in at any moment.  Just then, of course, one of these revolutionaries burst in.  I tried to make a break for the back door, but the shot me several times in the back with an automatic weapon of some kind.  I now saw the scene from above, my body on the ground, riddled with bullet holes, bleeding, dying.  

     I wasn’t dead however, and came to, unsure of where I was.  I could tell that I was bound and unable to move, and that there was a lot of wind and noise.  As my vision focused, I realized I was strapped to the landing gear of a large passenger jet (probably a 747, but I couldn’t tell from that angle).  I realized now, that I was definitely going to die, and that this was the end.  It seemed an odd death, but as the plane taxied for take off, it was a certain one.  The next series of events needs a few caveats to the logic rules of this dream world.  Apparently the plane was supposed to get enough speed when taking off to break through a barrier (like a wall) and if it did, there wouldn’t be any harm to the plane.  If they went too slow, though, it would act like the solid wall that it was.  The plane, for whatever reason, went too slow, and crumpled its nose against the wall.  I was saved.  I assume they brought the plane back in and found me, but I don’t remember any of it, I only remember being in my grandmothers guest room in Brooklyn, and being happy to be alive.

     The last part of my dream was brief, but oddly on topic.  I was walking along Beeler Street back to my house when I saw my dad and sister on the other side of the street, my sister holding a large portfolio.  I shout over to them, asking what they’re doing here, and they shout back that they’re going to a portfolio review at CMU.  I yell back good luck and keep going on my way.  This is rather strange because my dad and sister are actually on their way to Cambridge, England to visit the visual arts school to which she was already accepted.  My dad and I had discussed this yesterday, and it is very rare to have such a direct correlation between waking events and dream events.  

Sunday Morning, April 6th, 2008

     The only thing I remember from last night’s dream was that I shaved my beard, and rather poorly.  I immediately regretted it.  I didn’t remember that I had had that dream until I looked at myself in the mirror this morning and went, oh thank god, I still have a beard.

Saturday Morning, April 5th, 2008

     I know there were things proceeding these segments of the dream, but, as usual, I went back to bed after I woke up and they flittered away.  

     In the first segment, John Hodgman has come over for dinner.  He gets rather drunk and I go off to my room to go to sleep.  I hear him yammering loudly in the next room, however, and realize that I think I might know the person he’s talking about.  I walk over and he seems very scared of me, I don’t know why.  I say, are you talking about Stephen Burger? Yes, he says.  The Stephen Burger who grew up on the east side and went to Stuyvesant high school?  Yes, he says.  How old is he?  About fifty two, he says.  I tell him that my dad was friends with Stephen Burger when they were both little kids in manhattan (my dad did, in fact, have a friend named Stephen Burger who lived on the east side when he was a kid, I named a plush hamburger after him once).  He doesn’t seem to care much and I go back downstairs.  

     I find my sister down there with a bunch of friends making food and a lot of noise.  She’s being exceptionally stubborn and won’t listen when I ask her to keep it down.  Eventually we get into a fight but the members of Thin Lizzy suddenly arrive out of nowhere and break it up.  The lead singer, Phill Lynott, as well as now being alive rather than dead, is also wearing braces.  We’re all in a church now for some reason, with no observable transition, and sitting in the pews.  Women keep tearing at his clothing, pulling for his attention.  He just looks over at me and smiles with his metallic mouth.  

     The next segment was much longer and darker.  Two carloads of people pull up to what we’ve been told is an abandoned bank.  We’ve got some kind of plan to rob the bank, which still has money in it for some reason, but when we get there, someone walks out of the bank holding a very large gun.  In a very robotic way, he states that this is private property and if we wish to stay alive we should leave.  About half of us take cover down a flight of stairs where large cinderblock walls fill up a closed room.  I don’t know what this kind of space is doing in a bank parking lot, but I don’t ask questions because at that moment the man opens fire on us with a rocket launcher.  The rockets appear to move slowly, and look like giant, multi-colored sparklers when they fly and then burst into horrible flames when they explode.  We’re running around down in this space, taking fire, realizing that we’ve chosen the worst possible place to stage a defense.  He’s got the higher ground, a higher yield weapon with a good blast radius, and we can’t see him.  After a few hectic minutes trying to avoid the rocket blasts, they suddenly stop and he falls down dead into the space where a moment ago he was firing rockets.  

     At first we have no idea what’s happened, but everyone comes down to where we are to regroup.  The space is larger now, though.  It’s no longer a twenty foot by twenty foot cinderblock maze, it’s now a giant warehouse, hundreds of meters on a side.  There are a few rows of the kind of shelves you’d find in a home depot over in one corner, but they’re blackened and decayed, the place seems abandoned.  We group together in the corner where the shelves are, and talk about what happened.  It turns out that a girl (who I’m realizing now looked like Winona Ryder) who was with us at attempted to commit suicide and had inadvertently killed our attacker.  She survived and is lying down in another aisle.  While we’re all grateful for this, we also realize that she is a danger if she is going to keep acting as unpredictably as she did and, without telling anybody, I decide that she needs to be killed.  I walk over to where she is and start to pummel her mercilessly.  For some reason she also has braces and I can see that her lips are slashed and bloody from me punching her in the mouth.  After a few gruesome minutes (that even now, in the waking world, are making me rather uncomfortable) she is lying on the ground, seemingly unconscious, with a broken forearm and a face covered in blood.  I walk back over to the group and demand someone’s gun.  They realize what I’ve been doing and what I’m going to do and attempt to talk me out of it, but I just keep demanding the gun.  Eventually someone gives me theirs and I walk back over to finish her off, cocking the gun as I walk in a very Tough Guy manner.  When I get back to where I left her, however, she’s gone.

     I run out into the main open space of the warehouse and realize she’s there, also armed, and ready to kill me.  The layout of this scene is rather important, so I’ll point out that she’s roughly in the middle of the big open space and I was over by the edge.  I run along the wall, with my gun trained on her, and she’s running towards me, firing.  I take a few shots while running and one catches her in the leg.  This whole time the bullets seem to move in slow motion.  Not as slow as the matrix, but slow enough that I can consciously follow their trajectory.  She falls down, but gets back up.  This time I’m running, not directly towards her, but on a bit of an angle, and only take two shots but the second one gets her in the arm.  She falls again, but once again gets up.  This time she’s running, not directly  away from me, but across my field of view.  I lead her a bit and took a single shot, getting her in the head.  She doesn’t get back up.  I turn to walk back to the others, to let them know that it’s done, and I hear a crash behind me.  A helicopter has smashed open the far wall and she’s back up and running towards it.  This was apparently her escape plan all along.  I yell to the others for help but they can’t hear me over the din and, for some reason, don’t come to find out what all the noise is.  I shoot at her wildly, but miss.  She escapes.