Trip To Hell
Here’s a strange dream that I had a while back. I use nicknames for my friends here on the blog to protect the guilty, but in the dream, I didn’t know my friends by their real names. I had a mental block that prevented me from knowing their real names, but I did know them by their aliases that they use. It was quite odd.
I was hanging out in a forest with Max Guevera. Yes, the character that was played by Jessica Alba in Dark Angel. I recognized her as Jessica Alba, but I knew her as Max. That struck me as odd, but there didn’t seem to be anything that I could do about it. I’m not sure why we were in a forest, or what we were doing there.
Seconds into the dream, a hot wind blew across the trees, and they started to wilt right away. The trees quickly died, and were uprooted by the wind. The wind didn’t seem to effect Max or myself, but the trees were gone within moments leaving behind a blast landscape of dried dirt. The land went from a lush forest to something that resembles the surface of a dried salt flat where they race cars at insane speeds.
Max looked at me with a very sad look on her face. She looked down at the ground, and said, “Here we go.” With that, the ground gave away into a huge crater that lead down further than I was able to see. Max jumped into the crater, and I followed her. We seemed to glide more than fall, but the distance that we went down was unmeasurable. I’m not sure how long we fell, but we passed many planes and cliff edges that revealed people being tortured. The tortures started out minor at first, but eventually became more and more graphic and grotesque.
We finally finished gliding/falling down, and landed in a bleak black and white landscape. We were in the middle of a wheat field, and there were demons all around us. There was a small building off to one side of the field. We quietly, but quickly, made our way through the wheat and into the building. The demons saw us just before we entered the house, but we were able to sprint inside before they reached us. We closed and barred the door, and that seemed to be able to keep the demons out.
We were presented with warped and twisted hallways that ran deeper into the house. Max looked at me, and said, “We need to split up. You go that way, and I’ll go this way. We need to find all of our friends, so that we can get out of here with them.”
I took off down my hallway. I came to a door, and I knew that a friend would be behind the door. I opened the door and found Kolvedic there. He was standing in a blue light, and seemed very sad. He looked up at me and said, “I can’t find Jhianna. If I can find her, I’ll be happy again.”
I assured him that we would find her, and we set out on our way.
I recall running through the twisted hallways with no particular plan of action other than to open every door that I came across. Each room was filled with a different colored light, and each light seemed to have a different effect on the person in the room. I don’t remember the exact combinations but there were blue, purple, pink, red, orange, yellow, green, and amber lights. The moods that they seemed to cause were depression, happiness, anger, rage, hopelessness, lust, laughter, boredom, and a few others that I don’t remember.
We finally found Jhianna in a room that was bathed in red light. As soon as I opened the door, Jhianna lunged at me in anger. I had done nothing to anger her, but I recognized the effect of the light. I backed away from her blocking her attacks, but not attacking back. I eventually got her out of the room where she could see Kolvedic. When she stepped out of the red light and saw Kolvedic, she immediately started crying in happiness. They hugged each other, and that was when I knew that I was free from my trip to Hell.
I gathered all of my friends, and told them to follow me. I began leading them through the house, but that’s as far as we got because the alarm went off. I really wanted to go back to sleep to figure out where we were going and how we were going to get there. I guess I’ll never know.
Sleep Patterns
Craing and I were talking the other day about the strangeness of sleep patterns. It all started when I told him that I needed 4 alarms to go off in the morning to wake me up. Even then, I still need Kiara to come kick me sometimes to get me out of bed. He told me about a patient that he had back when he worked on the psych unit that could not be woken up for anything, but he managed to find a way.
I told him that when I was a child I had a sleep study done to see when I slept the lightest. This was done so that I could setup an alarm clock to go off at that hour of the night to go to the bathroom. This way I could train myself to wake up at night and go to the bathroom rather than wet my bed. The sleep study that I went through for a week showed that I took a while to get to sleep, but once I was sleep, I went into a deep sleep and stayed there for pretty much the entire night. I would even go into REM sleep for almost a full hour several times a night.
Craing seems to think that the vividness and details in my dreams can be attributed to the fact that I sleep so deeply during the entire night. That very much could be the case. I don’t remember every dream that I have, but those that I do remember have tons of detail and color in them. Most mornings when I wake up, I remember the sensations of my dreams. There are times when I wished I could remember all of my dreams because I’m pretty sure that most of them are interesting.
Tsunami From Space
Here’s a dream that I had over the weekend. It’s a very strange one. I’m sure it means something, but I have no idea what.
I walked out of my house, and looked to the west towards the mountains. I saw a huge wave of water falling from space and washing over the Rocky Mountains. The water washed down the slopes and into my town. The odd thing wasn’t the water, but the fact that I was in my hometown back in Texas. However, the town had been moved to the town that I currently live in. I accepted this oddity in my dream, and set out to save all of the houses that I cared about back in my hometown.
I ran from house to house preparing it for the water that was coming. Since the water was coming from the west, I knew that if I shored up the houses on the western side of the house, everything would be ok. The trick was to protect the windows. If the windows were covered, then the wave would wash over the house, and leave it untouched. I ran around all of the houses that I’ve lived in, all of the houses of my loved ones, and a few places that were dear to me back home.
I found myself covering the windows with large boxes of Frosted Flakes cereal. It seemed like the perfect covering, and it was doing the job just fine. However, I was the only person doing this, and I needed help. As soon as I realized that I needed help, my little sister showed up to help me out. She was killed in 1997 by a drunk driver, and I think this is the first time that I’ve dreamed about her. I’m sure that I dreamed about her shortly after her death, but I don’t recall any of them.
Anyway, Jill and I ran around town covering windows with boxes of Frosted Flakes. We got along great, and I realized how much I miss her being around. We managed to save all of the buildings that were dear to us, but there was huge amounts of devastation. I saw in my mind’s eye a combination of the damage done by the tsunamis in Sumatra, and the flooding done by hurricane Katrina. I didn’t witness either one personally, but with the global media, I was able to view the damage done by both of those natural disasters.
I woke up to the phone ringing. It put the dream out of my mind while I talked to my friend, but as soon as I hung up, I wanted to get back to sleep. I wanted to spend more time with my sister, but I knew that it was just a dream. I got out of bed, and went about the day. However, the whole day was filled with thoughts about everyone that I miss back home.
Invaded Dreams
Here’s another dream that I had recently that you might find interesting
In my dream, I woke up like I normally do. As I was getting ready for the day, the doorbell rang. I went to the door and opened it to find Colin Powell standing at the door in a very nice suit. He spoke to me in James Earl Jones’ voice. Somehow it wasn’t odd to have that voice coming from that body. It all seemed to fit. Mr. Powell asked if he could come in to talk to me on a very important matter. He seemed a little nervous, but I invited him into the house anyway. He looked around as if to see if someone was watching him come in, but he entered my house anyway.
He sat down on my couch and told me that the United States government had been implanting dreams into countless Americans in an effort to accomplish some “secret mission” that he was not able to detail. He said that the ACLU was in the process of filing a criminal complaint against the federal government on behalf of millions of Americans.
However, before they could get an accurate count of people that had been afflicted, they needed a signed, sealed statement from me on what kind of dreams I had been having. Mr. Powell handed me an envelope that was already stamped, and had the ACLU’s address on the front. He told me to write up a description of the dreams that I had been having. I was to then lick the envelope closed (to provide a DNA sample), and then sign the edge of the flap where it closes in with the body of the envelope to ensure that no one had tampered with the contents of the envelope.
Mr. Powell told me that the ACLU had obtained copies of the scripts of the dreams that had been implanted into peoples’ subconscious. He said that they had used the Freedom of Information Act to obtain these scripts. He wouldn’t tell me more about the scripts because I had to provide an independent match to the dreams that had been implanted. If what I said matched the scripts, then I would be notified by mail. If I heard nothing back from the ACLU, then my mind was free of tampering. I told Mr. Powell that I would do my best to describe my dreams in as much detail as possible. He thanked me for my time, got up, shook my hand, and headed out the front door.
As the door closed behind him, my alarm went off. I guess I’ll never know if my strange dreams are implants, or if they are creations of my warped subconscious.
Moving With Pipe Cleaners
Another strange dream for you guys… Several things from my conscious world invaded my dreams last night. As I was falling asleep our kitten decided to run around the bedroom playing with these two pipe cleaners that are twisted together to make a cat toy. I know. It’s a simple little thing, but our cats love them. We’re also prepping to move on Thursday, so that is forefront in my mind right now. Anyway… on to the dream.
In my dream I woke up to my alarm, got up, got dressed, did the usual morning stuff, and walked out into my living room. Waiting for me were hundreds of boxes. There were big ones, huge ones, medium-sized ones, and even a smattering of tiny little ones. I sighed with exhaustion even at the thought of moving all of these boxes, but I knew they had to be moved.
I reached down for the first box, and realized that my arms were missing! Not really missing, mind you. They had been replaced with red and white pipe cleaners that were the same length as my arms.They were all bendy, twistable, and stretchy. My concern about my pipe cleaner arms was quickly replaced by joy as I realized that I could stretch out my new arms to wrap around the boxes,and pick them up with ease. I quickly moved through the living room picking up boxes and moving them out to the truck that had been pulled up to the garage. I enjoyed using my arms to stretch around multiple boxes, pick them up, and haul them out to the truck. I found myself standing in place a few times waving my “arms” around in the air experimenting with how I could move them, stretch them, and intertwine them. It was amazing! I was making great progress through the boxes when I banged my leg against something. It made me jump enough that I woke up from my dream.
I looked down at my leg to find my kitten latched on to my calf, and he was happily chewing away on my ankle. The little bugger had attacked me in my sleep! I smoffed him on the head and chased him away. I was intent on getting back to sleep when the alarm went off. I was already awake, so I crawled out of bed, went through my morning ritual, and headed out into the living room. I was dismayed to find that nothing had been packed or moved. It was all a dream after all, but at least I have my normal arms today. I’m not sure I could type with pipe cleaner arms.
Lottery Dream
I had another strange dream last night. I dreamt that I was walking through a shanty-town in a large city during the Great Depression. I knew that they only way to get out of this life was to win it big in the lottery (Yes, I know. No lotteries back then, but it’s a dream dammit.) I tried buying lottery tickets with my last three dollars, but all of the shops were “sold out.” I’m not sure how you sell out of lottery tickets, but that was the case.
I ended up finding a scalper on the street selling lottery tickets. I managed to buy two tickets for my three dollars. As soon as he handed me the ticket, he ran off through a doorway. About a dozen London police (You know the ones with the tall hats, billy clubs, and loud whistles) stormed out of surrounding buildings, threw me to the ground, hand-cuffed me, and led me off to jail. They wouldn’t tell me why they had arrested me. They just kept telling me, “You know what you did!” It reminded me of my mom, actually. She would use that line quite a bit when she thought I had done something wrong. She was usually right, so I took the punishment. However, in this case, I wasn’t sure why I was being arrested.
The police hauled me out of the shanty-town, and threw me in a jail that was entirely made of ice. The walls, benches, toilet, and bars were entirely ice. It was very strange. I ended up sitting there for what felt like hours. They finally released me from jail telling me that it had all been a mistake. They apologized for what they had done, gave me my lottery tickets back, and set me free.
I started walking from my ice prison back to my home in the shanty-town, and that’s about the time that I woke up.
Under The Rug
This was not my dream, but one related to me by a friend. I’m including it here because I was part of the dream. Both of us were still in high school at the time, and neither of us were taking drugs. I have to state this because this particular dream seems like it’s right out of an acid trip. I’m writing this in first-person, but Vince is the person having the dream.
We’re hanging out in front of Heather’s house. It’s me (Vince), Heather, and John. We’re not doing much other than sitting on some lawn furniture and joking around like we always do. It’s right after school, but somehow it’s already night time. The next thing I know a dozen cop cars with lights and sirens going tear up to the house and surround it. Somehow I know that they are after us, and that we have to hide from them. None of us have comitted a crime, but none of us want to be hassled by cops, so Heather tears up the edge of her lawn. She screams out, “Jump under here! They’ll never find us under here.”
We jump under the edge of the lawn and we find ourselves in a large cement chamber with various tunnels leading from it. We’ve found the mysterious tunnels that run under the local mall. Rumor has it that Satanists use the tunnels for their strange rituals, so we know that we have to be careful. We pick a tunnel and start walking down it. Even though the tunnels have no light source, we’re able to see just fine in the gloom without a flashlight.
We walk for what feels like hours, but it only takes a few minutes. (Don’t you just love how time works in dreams?) We end up surfacing in the mall in the service entrance that the janitors use when they show up for work. We round the corner and head into the arcade to play some video games. We’re playing Street Fighter II when cops rush into the place. They’ve found us! John looks for a place to hide and tells us to get into the Street Fighter II game. He doesn’t mean for us to physically get into the cabinet. He wants us to become cartoon characters and jump into the screen. We don’t want to mess with the cops, so all three of us jump into the screen and act out the parts of the various characters in the video game.
A good friend of ours, J. J., shows up and throws some quarters into the game. Seems that the cops have left (J. J. hates cops more than we do.) so we jump out of the game, and play the game with him. There are only two controls on the Street Fighter II game, but all four of us seem to be playing the game at the same time. J. J. tells us that he has to split to go buy some Mountain Dew, and that’s about the time I woke up.
Ice Cream Hockey
I play hockey as a hobby, and the NHL season just started a week or two ago, so I have hockey on my mind. Perhaps this is where the dream came from.
I dreamt that I was playing on an old hockey team of mine, but instead of deciding who goes on next as we usually did, we had a coach telling us who to go out next. I’ve never been coached in hockey before, so it was a strange thing. Being coached wasn’t the strangest part of the dream. Everytime we had a shot on goal, the coach would reward us with an ice cream cone. However, the refs wouldn’t stop action long enough to allow us to eat our treat, so we had to skate, play the puck, dodge checks, and try to score goals with an ice cream cone in one hand.
If we managed to score a goal (I scored 1 in my dream just before waking up) then we were rewarded with this huge ice cream sandwhich on a stick. The treat was about 2 feet long, and we had a few seconds to gulp it down before the puck was dropped for the next face-off. Every time someone was rewarded with this treat, they always managed to scarf it down before the next face-off.
During the course of the game, there were piles of ice cream, sticks, and cones scattered about the ice. I didn’t sleep long enough to see the conclusion of the game, so I never got to see how the Zamboni driver reacted to the mess that we had made.
Purple Ogres
I had this dream the first night that I was trying to quit smoking. I was wearing a nicotine patch that night. The package said that the patch may disrupt sleeping. I assumed that it would make me restless, not give me strange dreams.
I was a fighter pilot. I don’t know what plane, what military force, or how I got the training. I just knew that I was a fighter pilot. I was in the house of the man that financed the building the plane that I flew, and his son was deathly ill. We had to get the boy from his bedroom and onto the roof of the building where a helicopter was waiting for us. However, we couldn’t take the boy from his bed, or he would die. This meant maneuvering his large four-poster bed from his room, through some hallways, up some stairs and to the roof. I knew that once we got the boy (and his bed) into the helicopter, I would be required to fly him to safety. Yes, I know, fighter pilots probably don’t know how to fly helicopters, but in my dream I was able to do both.
The problem wasn’t getting the large bed through the normal-sized doors. We were able to handle that with a little delicate maneuvering. The main problem was that purple ogres were breaking into the house to stop us. For some reason, they wanted the boy dead. I don’t know why, but all I knew was that it was my job to put a stop to their nefarious plans.
Between bouts of dealing with the bed, I would stop and battle the next wave of purple ogres that would attack us in the house. I had a small knife with me, but it was razor sharp. With a single swipe of this small blade, I would cut an ogre in half. As he died, he vanished into thick black smoke. Before the smoke even had a chance to dissapate, another ogre would be stepping up to me. I fought like a man posessed. The battle was hard, and I received a few harsh lumps from the ogres. Regardless of my injuries, I kep the boy safe.
We finally go the bed (and the boy within) to the roof and loaded into the helicopter. Another wave of purple ogres burst onto the roof, but they were too far away to threaten us. As I flew away to safety, I slowly came to…
My wife told me that I had been kicking and thrashing all night. I told her about my dream that morning, and I’m sure that she doubts my sanity.
King of Queens
I watch “King of Queens” on rare occasions, so I’m not quite sure where this dream came from.
I was traveling with Doug Heffernan (the IPS delivery guy in “King of Queens”) in a mid-sized sedan around town. There was a road that circled the entire city, and it was that road that we were on. As we moved around, this floating map in front of the car tracked our movements as a little red dot on a city map. It wasn’t quite the same as having a GPS mounted on the dashboard because this map seemed to be a holographic projection that hovered just above the hood of the car.
The reason that we were traveling around town was that his friend, and co-worker, Deacon was looking for his son that was kidnapped. It was our job to search the city for the kidnapper and the child. We seemed to aimlessly wander the city in the blue sedan without much luck until Doug’s cell phone rang. Actually, it was the annoying chirp-CHIRP of the Nextel walkie-talkie service. It was Deacon on the other end. They had found the kidnapper, and the kidnapper wanted peaches in exchange for the child’s safe release.
Doug and I had passed a farmer’s market that was selling peaches out of the cube-shaped milk jug holders. (You know the ones. You made book shelves out of them during college.) We didn’t know how many peaches to get, so we bought every single one of them and started loading them up in the sedan. The farmer was nice enough to help us out with the loading. There was a huge pile of the peaches, and we weren’t sure we could fit them all in the car, but as we loaded up the car, there always seemed to be enough room for more.
Damn. The alarm went off before I could find out what happened with Deacon’s child, the peaches, or why I was hanging out with a TV show character that annoys me. Oh well. Maybe I’ll get to finish a dream tonight.
