02/28/03
Who's Looking In My Window?
I have been having dreams regularly, of course, but only decided today to take note of the most recent ones, from last night's nap.
One vaguer dream concerned a man looking in our windows, shades of my "being watched" dreams. (See "Return Of The Watchers.") The main difference was this was an adult male, instead of a group of teens or children. I can't remember who he was but I have the feeling he was a reporter or investigator of some sort; I feel he was heavyset, maybe brown hair that was too long for him and possibly curled at the ends, smirky smile. Annoying looking, to say the least. He was very self-important and full of himself; tried to be ingratiating, but didn't succeed simply because he was very annoying. All of this I just knew about him, possibly from an earlier interaction which the dream didn't cover. It was daytime, probably overcast but not winter, and Dad and I were home. Maybe we were working on something or involved in something, but this fat guy wanted in on it, possibly for an article. And so he arrived at the house and was trying to look in the windows. There was more detail to this but I can't remember it; I just remember rushing around the house trying to avoid him, and for some reason it felt a lot more urgent than it usually does, like more was at stake--more of a threat. I think I was trying to cover the windows also. I just remembered one specific part; I went into the living room when he first appeared, and he was at the window nearest the TV, peering in; he may have had a mustache here and looked completely different. Almost Satanic looking. The blinds, it was as if he were parting them from the outside even though the window was closed; I knew he had seen me, but I took the risk of hurrying over and closing the blinds. They didn't want to close and he stood there smiling at me the whole time I fought with them. Then I rushed to close the rest of them before he could reach them. So yes, he knew I was there and had seen me, but I was damned if I was going to let him in.
I seem to remember him approaching another entrance or window and I tried to avoid him there too, but it's hazy. I'm not sure what Dad's involvement was. I think toward the end of the dream I eventually decided to confront the man straight out, as if I had never been afraid of him to begin with, and I have the feeling he would have turned out to be not so threatening as I had thought; I could probably cow him if I were rude enough. But I'm not sure if that really happened or if my mind is just filling it in.
Dan Rather Vs. Columbo
One dream I had right before waking up from my nap, when Columbo was airing, had Columbo in it, of course. This is hazy. I do remember that at first I was just listening in on it, so I think I was at the computer. While I was doing my stuff online I heard Columbo, Dan Rather, and somebody else supposedly famous bantering with each other. Turns out they were all contestants on a gameshow like Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? and Dan Rather and Columbo were not getting along very well. (I do not mean Peter Falk, I mean Columbo, the detective.) Columbo was being his normal amiable self, but Dan Rather REALLY didn't like him. I can't remember who the host was, or who the other contestant was, but they kept sniping at each other. I can't remember exactly what they said by now, but Columbo made a typical remark, like, "Oh, I didn't know that," and Dan Rather got incensed because of COURSE Columbo had known that (if that's what he'd even said), he was just acting like he hadn't. You know Columbo's ways. I think I got up to go take a peek at the show and there was the set and everything with their little lecterns for each contestant, etc.
Online, I was looking at a journal or community site of some kind. I hesitate to say journal site because it was more like Writing.com in theme; it encompassed more than just journals. And the journals were more interactive, but I can't remember how; there was one person who owned one and posted entries like normal, and others could post notes to their entries (comments, I should say), but there was just a different feel to it, like more people knew each other more indepth. I remember checking out one journal of a very popular site member in particular. It was all in greens and I feel the user's name may have had something to do with St. Patrick's Day or Ireland. Possibly they were Irish. The journal had a simple but nice layout, a square/rectangle in the middle of a medium-green background; the square was lighter green, I think, outlined in a thick black line, and it was rounded at the edges. There may have been a sidebar or some such to the right, and some graphics scattered on the page. You could tell if someone had left notes on the journal's entries (I think it was one entry a page) because there would be this little rectangle with rounded edges nestled partly in, and partly out of the bigger rectangle, in the lower right corner. Either this smaller shape wasn't present when there were no notes, or it was present but blank when there were no notes; when there were notes it either appeared or some text appeared on it, saying there were notes. This was like LiveJournal. You clicked on it and it would take you to the comments section. This particular entry may have been controversial (perhaps about war?) and it had garnered like 70-something or 200-something comments (I may be mixing this up with real life, but I know it had a lot).
I wanted to see what others had to say about this person's entry--the author was very outgoing and cheerful, but could lash out if they (she?) felt it was warranted--so I clicked on this smaller shape. Then it was like I was sitting at the computer but leaning way over in my chair, down toward the floor; there was a long piece of green paper taped to the computer desk and dangling over the floor. I had to turn a page on it to go to the comments page to see what others had said--so once again you see that in my dreams, the Internet becomes a real place. Instead of walking into a room as I usually do in Net dreams, here I was reading an actual hardcopy of this person's journal. (I had not printed it out; it was just there.) It seemed to be nighttime or very early morning in that dream as it was dark, the lights were on, and I feel maybe Ma was awake somewhere or had just gone to sleep. I was interrupted from looking at the notes, possibly by my alarm clock.
Mission: Wonkyworld
One very, very vague dream from my nap involved me and another girl around my age (we were young)--a very strange girl with powers and odd looks, possibly shaggy, strangely colored hair; some toys like the ones you get from a crane machine (the game where you put in money and try to pick one up); and me running down some kind of weird street in this weird world/city where the girl lived. Others were involved--family, I think--and I think maybe I had to get a toy or something from this girl. She wasn't really a BAD guy, but she was my antagonist and didn't fully understand the impact of her powers on others. I got the feeling she would see me with surprise and be stunned that I would have the audacity to oppose her, but maybe that would clear her eyes so she'd understand her effect on other people. I can't describe how thoroughly weird everything in this dream was--it was like being stuck in some surreal kiddie game, as the colors were all weird bright pastels and such. The sunlight was odd and the streets were crowded with weird things. At one point it was kind of like being in a tunnel or aqueduct of some sort with a smooth white bottom and no top. I could be just making some of this up, but I know it all had a weird feeling. There may have been some sort of large animal involved too, like a big shaggy dog (maybe like a Fluppy Dog?--they were these toys in the Eighties); he was smarter than he appeared and may have been my sidekick, or the pet of the girl. I was very determined in this dream, running all over the place trying to achieve my mission...but I can't remember what that mission was.
Shot Through The Head, & You're To Blame
This is the most interesting dream of the night from my nap. I can't remember parts of it so you know the deal.
It picked up with some guy--I think it was the guy who played Jack on MacGyver (Bruce McGill)--and he was pulling some kind of con on somebody. I can't recall exactly what happened, nor who I was, or who I was with--but it ended up that he drowned somewhere. I remember seeing his body pulled up on the beach or dock and he was lying maybe facedown at first, but then on his back--wearing just shorts or pants, I think, and his entire face was bloated, his cheeks, especially. He may have had a purplish tinge to him too, so I knew for certain he had drowned. Then I went to tell somebody about this (it's kind of like I was watching it on TV, yet was also nearby), and when I/we returned, I thought he was gone at first, but it just happened that somebody ELSE'S drowned body had been placed atop his. Ick! They were lying prone(?) on top of him so I couldn't see him at first. There seemed to be other bodies lying about, too, and some people wandering around, like forensics specialists or some such. It was kind of sunny but late afternoon so not terribly bright. I feel the water was more like a river than a lake.
So now we knew this guy was dead, and he couldn't pull his con game. I'm not saying I was glad he was dead (I was somehow dispassionately involved in this, perhaps as aid for the con victim, if there was one), but I wasn't sad, either. It was probably for the best.
Whoever else was with me, if in fact there was anyone, may have left, so I was the only one of my group remaining. And then--I saw this guy STAND UP! He pushed himself up from the ground and I think the only one(s) with him were people on his side, for he dusted himself off and laughed and grinned. It turned out that his drowning was only an act, too! So now he could go on with his con game in complete confidence...no pun intended.
I was surprised by this, by how he had managed to fake everybody out so effectively. Even as he talked and joked his face was STILL puffy and discolored from this! I waited for him to reveal to the others how he had done this--it's like part of me still believed he was dead, because he LOOKED dead--but he didn't say specifically what he had done. He'd probably used some kind of poison or something, nonlethal. I was starting to get annoyed, and I felt I had to do something to prevent him from pulling a fast one yet again. So I resolved to take care of the issue once and for all.
This was where I finally took on a distinct persona. I was a Nazi. ! Go figure. But I wasn't a very evil Nazi...I was more like my character Ratdog in The Trench Rats, someone who works for the Nazis but isn't one. Well, I WAS definitely a Nazi, but not one of the "kill-the-Jews" types. I just knew when to do my duty without feeling guilt, when it was necessary. And right now, it was necessary!
I feel I was a young man, possibly in my early twenties, clean cut and well dressed like Nazis usually were (only my uniform seemed to be lighter colored, like light gray). We were near my house now and it was as if the "drowned" guy had stood up not far from our back door. I myself stood over near the woods at the south side of our house, and I was behind a tree. It wasn't wide enough to hide me, but nobody was paying attention to me anyway. I feel it was early spring, as there was snow around but it was all melting and puddling and there may have been some patchy ice over the pavement as well. Overcast and cool but not terribly cold. I stood behind this tree, peering out at this guy laughing with his friends. Then I think he started to walk off on his own and that was when a plan formed in my mind. It was like I was just thinking this part through first, but then like it kind of happened--then, when it didn't turn out perfectly, like I rewound it and tried to do it again, to get it right. Roleplaying and mild control over the dream, but no lucidity.
Anyway, I stepped out from behind the tree (remember this was just what I was THINKING of doing at first, then I MAY or may not have actually done it) and went striding toward him. He was lost in his own thoughts, happy as a clam, and didn't notice me until I was right in front of him. "Excuse me," I said (or something to that effect). "But I'm curious to know, how did you pull that one off? How did you make it look like you were really drowned?"
"Oh!" he exclaimed in pleased surprise. And I think he started to tell me how he had done this, as he was more than happy to show himself off. As he launched into his story, I pulled out a gun and shot him directly in the head. He hardly had a chance to speak, and no chance to react. I then turned and walked off toward the woods again before anyone could have the chance to come running or apprehend me. The problem had been taken care of.
Then I rewound a bit. I'm not sure why. Maybe I wanted to wait a little longer to shoot him, because I really DID want to know how he had fooled everyone? I'm not sure, but I fiddled around with the outcome a bit and it wasn't as cleanly done anymore. I believe I woke up before it was resolved. But never once did I feel any guilt or horror over doing this. I did it very neatly and precisely, the way somebody might squish a bug, and that's how I felt about him when he died, too. Like I had been programmed to do it. Just pop, right in the forehead, and it was done. I realize this would be a horrible thing to do in real life, but in the dream I was rather impressed with myself--though I'd never show it. I knew the people this guy had conned would be happy to hear he was no longer in business.
2003 Dreams
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