Sunday morning dream

So I am starting to fall asleep, there is a small cat nestled into my back, she is black and white. I am thinking about the need to wax the legs soon.

Soon I am dreaming sorta, I am waxing my legs, my pregnant friend jenifer comes by and starts to help me wax, but soon gets bored and leaves.

So then my living room is morphing and i am walking into the cafe I use to work in, it has since change ownership several times. i walk to the back of the place and there is jenifer, sitting with three older people, dressed in business suits. i say hello to them and then leave the back of the place. When I get to the front of the place, I am in the Life Cafe in NYC. sorta... it feels like life cafe, but still resembled Gila Monster, the cafe i used to cook in.

There is a lounge are and I am alone, except there are a few patrons lounging. I move to one high largish round table. There is some young artsy looking guy sitting at the high round black topped table. and some other guy lounging at a lower table nearby.

I see there is a booth type seat at the table with many pillows and the guy is engrossed reading RICE magazine, a free NYC ZINE that is distribute in my dream NYC. I recognize it in my dream as I recognize that I have dream floated to NYC from the midwest. i have not dream floated in awhile... cool.

Dream floating is when you change locations and are aware that you have traveled in your dream and are in a different city. i have dream floated to Paris before too...

So anyways, dreamfloating is tiring, and I have nowhere to dream crash so I sneak in behind the artsy guy who is dressed in black. and i consciously start to dream in my dream... that is, I fall asleep in my dream in dream NYC in dream LIFE CAFE (a real cafe in the village)

Soon, the TV in the cafe wakes me up enough to notice that the artsy guy is half leaning on me, he thinks I am one of the pillows, he is still engrossed in the RICE magazine, which I seem to be familiar with even though I dreamed it, I seem to remember reading it when i lived in the East Village.

So then I fall back asleep in my dream and when i wake up again, the artsy guy is laying across my back and is dozing off himself. i stir and wake him, which wakes me up (no really, i wake up and then wake up... and see the sunset pink walls of my real bedroom) Damn, I think close your eyes and go back to NYC!!!

Soon i am back in the lounge area and am telling artsy guy goodbye as he is embarrassed that he fell asleep on me.

And then? i am soon in the area of NY that I always end up in.
Big tall re brick building is to my left and up a few blocks, the squats (not the good kind, the squalor kind) are in the vicinity I think, but I have not been dream there in awhile. this time I am in industrial NYC area, things have changed, now there are police patrols everywhere, but not the neighborhood beats that all new yorkers love, these are some 1984 Orwellian type cops, and I am behind the scenes, like the diamond wearing ladies are on the streets and I am behind tall grey buildings that are all connected into one big building and there are slots cut out for dumpsters.

Then I see the women. They are in grey drab work dresses and kerchiefs over their heads, and they are there to work with the trash of high society. It is there job to make sure the trash areas are immaculate, rat free and swept all trash in the large dumpsters.

I notice they are all brown skinned women, Indian, Hispanic, Afrocentric too, but no white skin, none. And I realize that I am in a place where only the workers go, and that the police are patrolling to make sure the workers are in their places and not on the streets, I realize the workers are not the reason the police are patrolling, they are looking for the criminals, and the workers are just a class above criminal.

What kind of fucked up version of NYC is this? I wonder, but soon realize it is the future, not too distant.

The women look at me with silent eyes. They notice that I am not a bitch and so ignore me. I wish that I could speak with them, but I know from the tone of the place that they mustn't stop working and that to speak with me would be breaking some kind of silent rule.

I am ready to wake up now, I think as I stoop to pick up a large tear shaped brown jewel, and as I do I spy another slightly smaller red ruby, also tear shaped. rounded cabochon cut. I pick them up and put them in my pocket. The leftover trash of the city is jewels.

Thursday Morning

I have gone to Florida, on vacation

(it's another recurring dream)

I know this, because of the clothing sale that has come to the beach, I went to this sale the last time I was on dream vacation, and later, the ship arrives, full of things from Thailand, the same ship as before.

But first, a word about my host:

She is older than me, and has short curly hair.
She is bohemian, and has a series of port a potties that are vile and filthy,
Why?
Because of her crew,
who are reticent of the punk rock patrons of punk rock bartender dream.
They are workers, the crew... what do they do? I have no idea, search for buried treasure maybe. But I have to go to the bathroom, I am getting my period, and the portajohns are it.

I am inside, trying not to touch anything and to "take care of the issue" when the crew comes around and starts messing with me,.
they burst open the door and things get messy, they do not leave me alone.

I have no clothes with me except for lame ones, and so I go to the beach to hang out and shop at the beachside sale.

Soon the boat comes through, I am on a boat now as well.
This is a merchant ship, it has things for sale, like a whole shipfull of things on display,
Again, as I did the first time I had this dream, I reach down (from the ship I am on) and select a large shell (the one shaped like a vagina) cowel shell? and it is brown, not white.
I ask how much... things on this ship are supposed to be cheap
He (the vendor) (an Asian man) tells me after some consideration, that it is 10 dollars. I put it back, it costs too much.

I see several other things that I want, but select only a few small items.
I see there are leather pouches like for a medicine bundle, and they are small and lovely, and I want one to mail some stones to a friend (in real life I have stones to mail to a friend)

I don't recall the rest of the dream.

I just know that I was on vacation, on a sunset beach in Florida.
And that I interacted with the same people that I had interacted with before in a prior dream

Sunday wake up

Not much I can remember,
there were people across the street
a whole lot of people
and they all knew something
alot of something
and everyone thought they were weird (people on the other side of the street as them)
and one person was consiered the weirdest, even among his own group, across the street, and so OF COURSE I understood him, sort of.
And they were playing baseball and communing with one another]
and I had just moved there with my family.
Who were sort of Little House On the Prairie quakerish.
And my mother was making a quilt by hand when i noticed it,
the circle under the sun
the sun looked like a moon, and the moon was not the sun an this circle under the sun was shining brightly because there was a star in the center of it, and as the sun got dimmer, the circle under the sun was more obvious.
I went to discuss this with the weirdo across the street, he was short, like a midget sort of, but not really, just small and thick, with a beard I think. Anyway, he was speaking of gloom and doom, and how nobody listene and how bad things were coming and how even his own group would not listen. I informed him of the power of the voice. Told him to hush up the negativity, told him the human voice has power, magic maybe, and that things that are spoken aloud can either be curses or blessings, but they do come to pass, because we make our own realities, we can speak the future into being.
At this point I realize the baseball game has stopped and the people across the street are listening to me.
"I tried to tell them about the circle under the sun" says the little man, but they did not listen to me.

I have to go back home now because it is time for school.
My hair is wet and when I take it out of rollers, it is still damp and so therefor limp and uncurled.
My amish type mother is making the bedskirt part of the quitlt, it is composed of several blue and re cut pieces that hang down like thick ribbons. The other children (my brothers?) have gone off to their school, I will be late, she tells me. And then I point out the circle of light that is under the sun, the sun looks like the moon, and the moon is also in the sky, dim, faint, and half full.
I wake up slowly with the thought that I am entering a new school and do not know where my place is, or where i am supposed to be.

Some recent dreams I can't forget

So in the last 2 weeks, i have had several dreams where I was either too busy or too creeped out to record:

1) My Indian Family.

I am laying on a lawnchair, on my Indian mother. i am a teen/preteen and I am adopted. The entire tribe is there milling about doing whatever.
Suddenly a silver mobilehome type thing rolls up
And my adopted mother flings me to the side, it is a rush to get to the opening mobilehome. There is something being distributed from the silver vehicle. It is boxes of cookies and mostly food. i am not in line, i have no claim to the provisions. There is one kind of cookie that is a favorite and I realize that i may have eaten too many as they are prized. i am embarrassed. i move to the feeding trading table. There is an assortment of good things to eat and also crafts on the table. it is like a conveyer. i see a smallish wooden box carved to be like a heart. i open it, and inside is a large chunk of gold shaped like a star. i see that it will flake off to make staR SHAPED CONFETTI and so i flake it apart to make confetti. Soon the box is full of golden stars. I close it for the person whom it is ment for and the conveyer belt moves on. A second smaller box is next, it is darker wood. i like it a lot and open it to find the same golden star shaped chunk. i begin to flake it and create more stars confetti to fill the small heart shaped wooden box. A young, dark haired Indian confronts me, she has made the box, and she chastises me for flaking the gold star apart, didn't I realize that task was for the owner? she asks me, and the box moves on down the conveyer belt/table. i feel bad, like i did for eating too many special cookies. The girl just wonders what a white chick is doing at the feast ceremony and who said i could open her boxes. her sister tells me it's OK and that i will learn.

2) Punk Rock Bartender
So I am a very punk chick, like a pierced and shaved head with colorful strings of bangs and such and all the eyeliner and ripped up clothes and such, knowing it is not who I am, inside, I sigh as it is the uniform for the job of punk rock bartender. At the bar is a whole lot of rowdy tough ever so punk men and they are mean and punk and spikey and some are fat slobs and the thing to do, is to scratch me with these razor/rings or knuckles or whaever, they hurt make me bleed leave scars, but these are my customers and this is punk funny. So I laugh, and think that I need to get a better job because I so do not enjoy being scarred for a living.

3) I am a bad schoolgirl.
She splits and runs across the schoolyard. I sigh to myself, that girl has no idea how to escape from school. they always find her. She always runs past the dogs.
"Hey, i bet I can make it out" I tell her once she is returned.
So I sneak out to the parkinglot and find a fat slob who is driving out to lunch in his white jumpsuit. "I will suck you off if you get me outta here"
He damn near creams his pants at the prospect.
He drives me to the mall which is the entrance to the airport.
I ask him to wait for me, steal his wallet, duck into a hip store, buy a wig and a new white outfit and I am now different. i feel kind of badly for the guy as he trusted me so, and clearly could benefit from a blowjob but have no time for regrets as i sneak onto the airplane. i am a bad schoolgirl in kneesocks and too much lipstick.

4) What's in the attic?
***In reality...In my real home, there is an entrance to the attic in the small closet by the door to go downstairs to get out. it is the kind of attic door that you have to pull down to access. I am both scared of and drawn to it and am convinced that there is a secret up there, either a treasure, or an explaination for what goes bump on the ceiling on the far right corner of my bedroom.***

So In my dream, we (my mother and two brothers) have moved to a new home. We are kids again, and I am the oldest, about mybe 17. I notice a peephole in the wall, i have had this dream before, more than once, same new home, same peephole, same inviting attic. I never make it to the attic, but this time, there are large mahogony doors leading up to it. I want to go up there and convince my brother to go with me (youngest brother, is more psychic than me.. in reality is true) So we go up there. it is massive vaulted ceilings and a big plasma tv and a leather recliner and some cereal still on the table. Shit this is a fly pad! I could get comfortable here. But my younger brother warns me it is cold in this place and he does not trust it to be a good house. i am ready to move in, I want the attic room to be my room. It is MASSIVE! and that's when i notice the steps leading up. small thin steps dimly lit steps, steps that lead into darkness, i want to go look and see what's in the attic I thought this room WAS the attic! (what's in the attic what's in the attic? I wonder this all the time in my real life, but I am too scared to look) In this dream, i am not scared, i am like the person who lived here in this room, the person who left before I discovered this huge room, i feel like I am the person who lives here now, i see no problem, i should see what's in the attic.
My brother tells me he is in no way going up into that fucking dark attic with me.
I wake up.