08/18/96
Nun In Love


It's like I was in some kind of weird movie. I think I was on a busride going down the street; there was a nun on the bus with me. The thing is she was in love with somebody, so that wasn't very good. I was with an older woman. As we went we came near this bridge and we saw this big purple house that was being pulled to this certain spot. We thought it was going to be pulled over the bridge, but it was pulled up beside it instead. I thought, "They're going to put it in right beside the bridge, there on the shore."

We went over the bridge and I think the bus stopped and we got out to look at something, maybe the house. Then it's like we were going down to some lower level; the only thing I can think of to compare it to is the basement at Rivertown Cargo (where my mom used to work). I think we had to hold onto a rope as we went down. I started going down, but I was getting really scared. I think the other lady was trying to encourage me but I kept shaking my head--"Uh-uh! Uh-uh! Uh-uh!" I don't know if that meant "I can't come up" or "I can't go down."

It seemed that this rope or whatever I was holding onto had drawings attached to it all the way down. I went to the bottom, which was next to some kind of abyss or something that went straight down, and there were some drawings there. On these drawings, first it was supposed to be things of the body of which there were two--like two feet, two hands, two ears, two eyes; there was a drawing of an Asian woman's face with her eyes closed. There were two of these, and in one of them the nose was different. I knew that the girl who'd drawn it had drawn it wrong the first time so the instructor had told her to draw it again.

The lady from above was calling me. I think I realized why the woman in the picture was so sad; I think it was the nun, either her or the Asian lady, who had been drawing these pictures of the body parts, but then she'd drawn two breasts and then she'd felt really guilty.

I think I went back up. It's like we were sitting in this room, maybe an auditorium or something, and the nun was sitting ahead off to my right. She was crying. I think I had string on me or something and was trying to pull it off. I said she should take off her habit because she'd kind of betrayed the order or something. Somebody said that she'd sinned; I said, "We've all sinned," because that's the way it was.

So we all got back on the bus to drive home; I don't know if it was the bus driver who she was in love with or not, but the driver drank some kind of poison and committed suicide. While we were deciding what to do, I remember he wasn't dead yet; he said something like, "Yyyaagghhh..." but I don't remember what he was trying to say.

There were two guys--one knew how to drive the bus, and the other one knew the directions, so they both went up to the front. I think the one boy was from Michigan (as I am) and he was driving the bus; the other boy, from Nebraska, was directing. The one from Nebraska started telling this story about where he came from or something; we started getting near Black River (my old elementary school) and somebody else said, "Um, would you just please stop telling that story?"

So he said, "Oh, okay." And that was how that dream ended.




The Magic Bush & The Doomed Pig


This dream had to do with a bush that was growing behind the chair in the living room, the chair that's sitting where we used to put our Christmas tree in the corner of the room. There was a bush growing behind it. I think in an earlier part of the dream I had caught my mom smoking and she'd lit up two cigarettes; I grabbed them from her and put them out. There was a circus on TV, because I remember Dad changed the channel and I asked him to put it back. I looked at it and there was some kind of mouse. It was deformed, and looked like an elephant. It had a trunk. It was really neat looking. The thing is, they had glued fake elephant feet onto its front legs and I said, "It would look better if it didn't have those fake feet on there." Dad said they were real, and I said, "No, you can tell they're fake." It looked like it was just a baby because its eyes were closed and it had really short fur.

Anyway, I was in the living room and had found this bush behind the chair. You know that was natural. The thing is, it was the bush that we had picked raspberries from in real life, but now I found strawberries growing on it as well. I exclaimed, "Strawberries! This is cool!" I started picking them off and thought about how I was going to surprise Ma with them when she came home. I would pick one off, then pluck off the bottom part or something, then I'd pluck off the top part, because there was some kind of cap on the top, kind of like on an acorn; it was weird. I put them in a basket. I picked one that wasn't quite ripe, but I thought it looked good anyway and put it in. There were more in the basket than I had actually picked. I think I washed them off in a bowl of water; then I had the bowl of water with these bits of weed and stuff in it. I was wondering if I should pour it on the bush to help it grow, but then I thought there might be something bad in it.

This was right by the window, and Pepper (my old cat) was sitting in the window watching me. I think Eric (my brother) was home; he said something really snide, but I think I ignored him. I looked around the bush a little bit more. Then instead of the bush, I was digging under the chair for some magazines; I think they were Entertainment Weekly or something, and there were some cassette tapes too. I was looking for the second two parts of this cassette tape series I had, only they were like audiocassettes and videocassettes at the same time. They were yellow. I was looking for the second two and I think I found them. They had something to do with horror movies. I was going to put one in the VCR to watch it. For some reason it was supposed to increase the reception on the TV, make it better. I wanted to see if it worked. Somehow, the reception on our TV wasn't very good in this dream.

I remember that Saturday Night Live was on, and I think Gilda Radner was on it, perhaps her and/or Kevin Nealon. They were doing the news or something. The reception kept getting bad and good and bad and good; it was like in real life the night before--the reception on the TV was funny. It would be kind of fuzzy and the sound would be clear, then the screen would get clear but the sound would get quieter. In the dream, I knew that somehow when I put this tape in it would be like a new program and I was watching to see if there would be better reception. I think Grandma B. was with me, but I'm not sure. So I put the tape in, and there was a horror movie on it.

The other day in real life I had seen a commercial, an ad for the third Aladdin movie, Aladdin & The King Of Thieves; the genie had turned into Pumbaa from The Lion King and said, "Hakuna matata." Well, in my dream this one guy had turned into a pig; first it was in a comic book and he'd turned into Pumbaa and kept making these weird noises--they began with a B, like "Burp! Burp!" or something like that, before I realized it was supposed to be like an oinking sound, not a word. I found a better way to spell it, so it would sound more like an oink. He was in a hotel room or something in that; then it was in the movie I was watching, and this guy had been turned into a pig.

There was this girl standing at this window looking out, a little girl in a little pink dress, and she had curly hair; she was supposed to be evil or possessed. She turned around and talked to the guy who'd been turned into a pig. He could still speak. As she talked, her ears got pointed and her eyes started to glow and she grew sharp teeth, and started talking weird. She started to turn away so that he couldn't see her, but then she turned around and started ripping him apart.

Grandma was in the room; she turned away and muttered, "I don't like horror movies very much."

I said, "Oh, I love them."

Earlier in this dream I had gone into my room and had seen to the two yellow cassette tapes in my tape case, and had started to put in the other two yellow ones, but I had like two or three other tapes and was counting how many slots I'd have to move the rest of the tapes down in order to put them in in alphabetical order. (I'm picky that way.)

This dream might have been related to/shifted into "Alas, Poor Keanu."

Available illustrations:

* The "elephant mouse"
(about lifesize; was being held up by a human; short, velvety fur like a baby, uniform gray; can't remember whiskers; front "feet" glued(?) on).




Alas, Poor Keanu


This dream might have been related to/shifted out of "The Magic Bush & The Doomed Pig."

I was in the Glen's supermarket, looking for my magazines. I met Aunt Carol there; she was just standing in the last aisle. She turned around and I said, "Hi!" She asked me what I was doing and I said, "I'm looking for my magazines." She asked me how much they would cost. For some reason I didn't want to tell her, because I thought it would be too much; I said, "Oh, I dunno, there's several of them." We might have talked a little bit more but I don't remember.

I went and found Entertainment Weekly; it had some kind of review of some shows that I was watching. One was like The X-Files or something, but I'm not sure. It had a profile of each of the characters; one of them was this crippled girl. She had brown curly hair and kind of a snubby face, like a pug dog, sort of. At first it said that she was a cute actress, but then it said she played the part of an evil and ugly crippled girl. I didn't get this--first they'd said the actress was cute, but then they'd said her character was ugly. So I didn't know what they were talking about. It said that the whole idea of the crippled girl who seems sweet and innocent but is really a bad guy had been overdone. They said that the first episode she'd appeared in was enough, but they'd been bringing her back in further episodes, and they thought that was kind of overdoing it.

On the cover of one of the magazines it talked about Keanu Reeves; in my dream he had committed suicide. Carol might have come up behind me and I said, "Yeah, isn't that a shame how he committed suicide?" I think he had drunk something poisonous. It had a picture of him on the front. I just couldn't believe that he'd killed himself! I guess the reason I couldn't believe it is because he hasn't as far as I know. The magazine talked about how many movies he'd made recently that had bombed. I think I might have gotten that part of the dream from real life, where I read a review of the movie Chain Reaction and they said it didn't look like it was going to have a sequel coming out, and that he should have been in the second Speed.




The Plane In The Lake


I was my fictional character Sidras North. I think she/I was either driving or walking and this big black car pulled up in front of her. It had Men In Black in it! I was controlling Sidras--roleplaying. She was kind of scared; she turned her head a little bit--you couldn't see it, but I think another car pulled up on her other side. The two MIBs who were in the car in front of her looked like normal humans only they were kind of...not ugly, but weird looking. One had a beard or something. They started conversing with her, making smalltalk. She acted casual, but nervous--"Oh, yeah, yeah, sure, uh-huh"--because she knew about the MIBs. They talked with her about where they were staying; it was in some kind of hotel on the shore of a big beautiful lake. They talked about how the hotel lights were really bright, and how the stars in the sky were really bright too--they compared the two. Sid was like, "Yeah, that's, that's nice, uh-huh!"

She finally excused herself from the MIBs. Then she heard something about a plane crash, and something happened...again it's like I was controlling it...everything went white, like you see on TV when the film is exposed slowly so the characters white out/fade out instead of black out; there was some kind of weird revelation going on, some kind of change in consciousness, and it went "Fffwwshhhwwpp! Fffwwshhhwwpp!" on each of the characters, like on the MIBs, then on Sid.

Then the point of view changed so it was flying over this lake. The water was very still and the sky was pink; it was evening and the sky shone on the lake. The POV flew backwards over this. I was talking in the voice of my character Anders Carlsson. He was telling about how he was flying, only he was attached to his body through a string in his back or something. He was just traveling over this water really fast. Somehow he'd kind of turned on his side. He was narrating this. As he came in to the shore there were pieces of plane in the water; like the big tailfin that's on the back of a plane here, and the front section here, just sitting in the water.

Then all of a sudden it was Sid waking up. In this dream she was Anders's girlfriend, even though in my stories she's not. He was asleep beside her; he woke up and asked her what was going on. She said, "Oh, I just had this weird dream" or something.

She went outside and Anders came out with her and said, "Yeah, take a look at that plane. I counted all these different pieces." The part I remember most is the front end of the plane, the cockpit, and it was sticking up out of the water, but there were other pieces of the plane all over as well. Sid wanted to get away from there, because she knew the MIBs were going to come--they had something to do with this, like they were going to confiscate the plane pieces as if it were a UFO or something.

In a part of the water where there was mist coming up, there was a rainbow over the plane. Sidras turned around and there were spots of mist on the ground around the shore too. There were little rainbows all over the place. Anders said, "Wow, what are those?" and similar things.




Fortuneballs


This dream is kind of confusing. Let me start where I have it written down first. I was with some friends, only I was a different person--I was one of my characters, maybe. There was this Jamaican or Haitian guy; he had some kind of fortunetelling powers, like communication with the spirit world. He did this by drumming on these two small wooden balls. Maybe they weren't wooden, because when he hit them they made a clanging sound, like "Boonngg!" but they at least looked wooden. He would hit them with these wooden sticks with balls on the ends.

We were standing out near where the highway is, at the end of our driveway, only the format was different. We asked the black man to tell our fortune or something. Now I controlled him--roleplaying--and I started drumming this certain pattern, but part of it was too fast so I cut out that part. I started doing the same beat over and over again, like boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom, over and over and over again. I was supposed to be going into some kind of trance. I kind of stood up and started banging on these balls as I walked in circles around them. Either one of those balls or some other kind of ball, like a blue Hacky Sack or something, flew out from under the sticks and went bouncing out into the street. I got up to follow it. I was controlling all the characters, it seems; another guy saw that cars were coming, so he ran over, grabbed the black guy (me), and pulled him out of the road just as a car went by. The black guy hadn't noticed because he'd been in a trance. He kind of shook his head and was like, "Wha...what happened?" The second guy waited until the traffic had thinned and then went across the road to retrieve the ball.

They were probably the same dream, but the plot of this then shifted into "Beaches, Books, & The Bodybag Conspiracy."

Available illustrations:

* The "drums"
(I'd beat the balls w/ the sticks to go into an ecstatic trance; looked like wood but resounded almost like metal or chime balls) [left arrow] "drumsticks." [down arrow] actual size (?)




Beaches, Books, & The Bodybag Conspiracy


They were probably the same dream, but the plot of this shifted out of "Fortuneballs."

Some other people and myself were going on a bike race. We went out into the side road, on H. Road (the road beside my house); some people went straight down the road, but some of us went to the right side of the trees when you're going east; we tried to find a break in the trees to get out into the road. At the end of H. Road in real life there's just a house being built on the left side of the road, but in my dream, it was confusing...this one guy had built over the end of the road and there was pavement all over. It was on the shore of some kind of beach or lake, almost like Gordon Turner Park (the city beach). There were wooden docks and stuff and a couple of people walking around. One of them was a woman with a little dog.

I rode my bike down there to this wooden platform. There was a painting on the cement that clearly meant "No bikes allowed"--it was like a bicycle with a cross over it. I thought, "I could get in trouble for doing this, but nobody really seems to care," so I rode over the sand that was on the wood...there was sand kicked up on this platform. I started going what would be north down Galbraith Road, only it was along a beach.

As I went the dream kind of changed; there were a bunch of people walking around with deliveries. I felt kind of sad for some reason; I was thinking about something I'd ordered, only it went deeper than that. I can't remember exactly what the connection was; I looked into the boxes that the people were moving around. One was a collection of Stephen King books; one was a collection of another kind of books; one was James Bond movies, and stuff like that--they were all different collections of stuff. I remember looking in the videotape one and seeing the tapes loose in their plastic containers. I just kept walking around looking at these. Somebody tossed a couple of Stephen King books to me and I was supposed to put them in somebody else's box, but I kind of missed as I went by. So I looked at them a little bit, then put them on a shelf that was sitting nearby. This all happened outside.

I looked at some of the books on the shelves; one of them was like really REALLY thin, narrow...then it's like the dream changed. Maybe I was inside a house. There were some ladies of fashion standing around. I took the book from one of them, looked at it, and said, "How could you read this?" It was very very thin--when I say thin I mean long. As books go, its height was normal, but its width--not its thickness, but its width from left to right--was really thin. It was hardcover too, so it was amazing how you could open it and actually read text on the page! I thought, "What, does it have ONE word per line?" I put it back on the shelf with some other books.

We were watching some kind of demonstration going on. There was this woman and she told this one person to stand with her back to this dog and pretend to get attacked by it, only something went kind of wrong with this, I don't know; they had to try it out several different times. It's like this was happening in real life but somebody was also drawing it out while it was going on--she was drawing a picture of a woman talking to another woman, and there was a dog behind the second woman, and a big huge word bubble that went around them all, that the first lady was talking in. The first lady was attacked in the demonstration by a little dog, then another lady was attacked by a big dog like a Doberman.

We (myself and...?) were now walking around in this house owned by this old guy; this gets kind of confusing. I don't really understand it. The old man was supposed to be kind of like royalty. He was the son of a former king of England; he was a prince, but he didn't really have any power. I realized that one of the people who I knew at school was kind of distantly related to him, so she could be considered distant royalty too. There was a picture of him on the wall; it was this old guy in bed and he was smiling, and had a tube going up his nose. o_O We were wondering about him for some reason.

Then we realized he was in part of some kind of coverup; it's like we were watching from underwater now. There were a bunch of bodybags, and we were opening them and dumping them into the water to see what they were. Dead people--men, women, children, dolls even--came pouring out of the bags and into the water. We were looking at them and somebody was telling us about this, how they were supposed to be normally buried but the man hadn't buried them or something. I remember seeing a little girl with a doll about her size float by. I think one of the people with me kind of turned away and said, "Ugh." They found a little girl, and when they dumped her out of the bag her eyes opened so they knew she was still alive somehow. They pulled her out of the water and got her to start breathing again. Then it's like I was looking at some kind of newspaper article about how her parents had found out she was missing; they had gone to the daycare center where they'd left her and the daycare personnel were like, "You're not going to like this, but she's missing." She'd been kidnapped or something. Now she was turning up in this bodybag.

Another guy in the house told us about cults. He said something like, "Well, this guy can figure out everything about a cult. What they're afraid of, what they eat, what they do, when they sleep, who they like..."

I turned to the black guy who was with me, the one who'd been beating on the little balls. (See "Fortuneballs.") I said, "Can I talk with you later on?" because I knew somehow that he could give me information about the cult that I'd made up, Scorpio (this is a fictional cult I write about in real life).

He gave me this look and said, "I don't wanna prophesy with those balls again."

I said, "You don't have to do that. Just talk to me."

He reluctantly replied, "Okay."

Then it's like the dream was partly still continuing, but also fading out. I was sitting on my bed and some other people were in the room. I had this blue metallic ball, but it was covered with sticky stuff to which hair was sticking. I held it for a minute and wondered if I should wash it off, but then I started pulling the hair off instead, as hard and as fully as I could, and tossing it behind the bed. Finally I had like all the hair off but the ball was still a little sticky. I rolled it around in my hand. It was dark blue and metallic. Then it's like I was pulling something off of a box. I thought that I might be ruining part of the box, but I didn't; it was still intact. It was a Dungeons & Dragons box; it had some drawings of different kinds of monsters on the back of it.

This dream was related to "The Girl With The Golden Gun."

Available illustrations:

* The thin book (about actual size)
darker, reddish-brown. [up arrow] width?

* The ball I was trying to clean off (metallic blue) (actual size) [up arrow] was sticky & covered w/ hair




Save The Mice!


I had delayed recording my dreams on tape to go outside and ride my bike around. I went out several times. I came back in and Nick T. (a guy I knew in elementary school) drove by in a truck. He was looking through the window, shielding his eyes and looking and looking in the windows of our house as he passed. I was like, "Jeez, I wish he'd quit doing that!" because every time he went by he would do that in my dream. >:/

It had been sunny and I turned to go outside again, but all of a sudden these dark clouds came up and the wind blew really hard; it was really windy and dark. I couldn't believe how dark it was, and wondered if I should go out at all. I thought, "Maybe there's going to be a big rainstorm. Maybe I should put my bike in the garage," but I was afraid to go out.

Behind me on the porch I left the door open, and Pepper (my old cat) rushed out. She attacked this mouse that was on the step. I grabbed her and wrestled her; she let go of the mouse and it ran down to the bottom step. It was perched right in front of the basement door, but it wouldn't move. So I put the cat inside and thought, "Well, I'm going to go down there and shoo it into the basement," because for some reason I wanted to put the mouse in the basement so it would be safe. But it started running back up toward me and I KICKED IT! O_O I kicked the mouse!! It flew back down and tumbled down the steps and landed at the bottom...it was okay, but I felt bad doing that! >_< But then it and ANOTHER mouse started running up toward me again!! I thought, "What can I do to get these mice to stay down there? I can't believe they're not scared of me!" I just kept trying to get the mice to go down to the basement.

When I finally got them at the bottom I realized I had done something wrong, because it's like I was looking at a comic book; in the first issue there was one mouse, and in issues five and six another mouse was supposed to arrive, and no sooner. These mice that I had kicked downstairs were mice five and six, and I had made them arrive too soon. So I ruined the comic book for some reason... o_O

In a later part of the dream I told Dad about this. He said, "Ohh, yeah, I've heard that one before."

I exclaimed, "How could you have heard it before? It just happened to ME!"

This dream might have been related to "The Girl With The Golden Gun."




Dancehall Counting


I was in some kind of dancehall. There were a bunch of country dancers dancing around. For some reason I liked it; I don't know, maybe they were playing songs that I liked.

I was counting the pairs of dancers. There was a long line (or two lines?) of people going by; in the first there were like sixteen or eighteen pairs or something, and in the second there were twenty-one pairs. They just danced by and kept dancing in circles. I have the feeling that something else happened in this dream, but I don't remember what.




The Girl With The Golden Gun


This dream is kind of confusing! I think it started out with me riding my bike, but I was in a car at the same time, with somebody. She was talking about somebody--I think it was the old guy from "Beaches, Books, & The Bodybag Conspiracy"--and she mentioned what she believed he did. I said, "Well, believe it or not, he did some pretty nasty things. He didn't keep his word." I told her about the people in the bodybags. This was weird, how I remembered this in the dream, because this one took place after I woke up and went back to sleep--I was remembering a dream from an earlier part of the night. I told her that he also kept guns, and for some reason that was illegal.

She said, "What's a gun?"

I pulled up this gun, only it was missing its barrel; I tried to put its barrel on but put it on the wrong side so I took it off and put it on the other side. It was golden. I kind of waved it at her and said, "This is a gun." Then it's like she wasn't with me anymore and I aimed the gun out the window--it's like we were driving south down M-33, but there was a lake in sight. I fired the gun out the window to see what it would be like, because I've never fired a gun before. I could see this little fiery path the bullet cut through the air, but it just went out over the lake and nothing happened. So I shot again and hit a window in a trailer and it shattered. "Oh, that's cool!" I just started shooting and shooting and shooting, thinking, "I may as well use up the bullets"; I knew it was a waste of bullets, but I'd started already, so I might as well finish the job.

I had a smaller gun with me, a revolver or something. I knew somehow that something had happened, an apocalypse or something, and most of the people were dead. I was trying to find some survivors. I don't know, maybe it was like The Stand or something; I'm not sure what had happened. I just kept shooting the gun. It seemed most of the bullets went out over the lake, leaving a little fiery trail behind them, but I hit a couple of houses. Then I turned and started shooting out the other side. It's like I was going past the housing subdivision further down the road, on the corner of Orchard Beach Road on the way to Black River (my old school). I hit a couple of the houses and they sparked. A couple of them caught on fire and I thought, "Uh-oh, the wind's probably going to spread that." I remembered the wind from my other dream, "Save The Mice!" So I said, "Oh gee, what should I do? Well, I better just keep going."

I knew that one of the people in this area was like David Alan Grier, the comedian from In Living Color; I think Daffy Duck might have been one of the characters too. I had the feeling of Grier coming out on the porch and saying, "Uh-oh!" and running because things were catching on fire.

I went further down Orchard Beach Road in the direction of Black River and came upon a house. Grandma and Grandpa B. and Aunt Rose and several of my other relatives were there. I went in and was going to tell them, "We have to keep going because there's going to be a fire," but it's like the story changed again.

They were the same dream, but the plot of this then shifted into "Chopaholic."




Chopaholic


They were the same dream, but the plot of this shifted out of "The Girl With The Golden Gun."

Grandpa B. was tired, maybe sick, and we needed to chop wood to put in the fireplace because there was no electricity. Several of the relatives were there--I remember my cousin Kyle was one of them, and the twins (two other cousins) were there too. I went into the back room where they were keeping the wood and some of the people were cutting wood and such. I felt kind of bad because I wasn't doing anything. They put the ax away or something; then it's like Ma and Dad were here, talking about some kind of track that these Indians or Eskimos had made up around a mountain ridge. It's like we were either mimicking this or watching it on TV, and we were doing it over this blanket. This big blanket was draped over something so it looked like a mountain, and we were tracing the path they would have made.

Dad held up two pieces of ribbon or something that held those little plastic crystals on them...in real life I've been gluing these little plastic crystals to things--these looked like the same thing. They formed patterns on the ribbons. One was a boat. Dad said something that they had asked, like, "Why isn't this life sized?"

Ma said, "You're kidding, they really asked something like that?"

Dad said, "Yeah."

I remember there wasn't any water under the boat; it wasn't finished yet. They were pins for some reason, I can't remember what.

I felt like I should help Grandma and stuff, so I started looking around for the ax. I couldn't find it. I found some other axes, but not the one that they'd been using to chop the wood. Earlier I'd gone out there and they were trying to chop the wood, but were having trouble aiming at it. I think one of them was Sheri (sic?--a cousin), and then there were the twins Justin and Jason (cousins). I said, "Here, let's try that"; I was going to pick up the ax and chop the wood, but all I did was put a block of wood there so they could chop it. I think I chopped one piece but that was it. Now, I couldn't find the ax.

Grandma said they needed some wood out of the basement, so we went to the basement door. It wasn't very deep; it just went down a little bit. Grandpa yelled, "Well, I couldn't find any wood in there!"

Grandma said, "You didn't look in the back. That's where all the wood is, in the very back."

I looked down in the basement. It was all wet, dank, and dark. I felt really scared and didn't want to go down there; I just stood there in the entrance, cowering. I was afraid of bugs, because when I'd lifted up one of the pieces of wood earlier, these little bugs had been crawling around on it, like ants. UGH!! Grandma was kind of mad at me because I didn't seem to be doing anything of use. She went in and got some of the wood.

I kept looking for the ax and I think I finally found it. I wanted to put myself to use so I was going to chop wood, but it's like I was chopping little pieces of paper for kindling or something. They had to be a certain size, like maybe three or four inches by three or four inches. It was kind of like newspaper. I would aim with the ax and chop the paper, but it was hard to get the right aim. I don't know why; it was just paper. I was doing this to help, and Grandma was like, "Well, okay, that's something you can do to help."

Then it's like I was doing this in our living room, on a poker table; chopping this paper. They had been talking on TV or in the paper about something, some kind of big man contest--big guys were supposed to go there and have a good time. o_o There was like a piece of plastic with a woman on it that was supposed to be some kind of pin or something; it was like a woman waiting for the big man contest to begin, I think. I took this and was going to chop part of it off for some reason. I aimed for the top, but I think I chopped into the woman. The woman was alive and sarcastically said, "Oh, gee," because she was upset with what I had done. I just kept chopping this paper; I remember some of the pieces were really big, and I thought, "I could get several choppings out of these," so when I chopped them I set them aside in this pile I had beside me.




Books Of Angels & Turquoise Dreams


I was in some kind of store--it was kind of like Glen's. I was at the back of the store where the books are. Ma was there too, but she turned to the left and was talking to somebody. I looked at the books while she talked. There were a lot of books about angels and dreams and stuff, like dream interpretation. I was picking these up; there were like two in a series. One was about spirits or something and one was about dreams. One of them had little dictionary-style entries that I liked, but the other one just rambled on and on and I didn't like it very much; I put them both back. One of them had a turquoise metallic cover; inside on the regular old pages there was turquoise metallic color too, in like a checkerboard pattern. I thought, "Wow! I wonder how they did that on this regular old paper," because it wasn't even shiny paper. I just kept looking at these books, keeping my eyes open for anything interesting.

On the top level in the back there were some popup cards and kids' books and such, but I wasn't very interested. I wondered if anybody had copied Stephen King's idea of the serial novel, like The Green Mile, because it seemed some of the books were thin, but they weren't serial novels. I looked back at the books about dreams and angels. One had an angel on the front; you know how angels were popular in the media for a while. I looked through all these little books, but I don't think I found anything I liked.




Button Envy


I remember that another button fell off of my shirt. I'm already missing the second button in real life, and I think in my dream the fourth button fell off; I was holding it in my hands and looking at it, thinking, "Jeez, if this keeps up I won't have any buttons left." And then how would I do up my shirt? :/



1996 Dreams
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