My dreams take me to the wierdest places—sometimes good, sometimes bad—but there are some of them I just don't want to forget. So good or bad, they go here. My dreams take me on a journey into the farthest parts of my mind. If I can figure out what they mean, maybe I can understand myself a bit better. You are more than welcome to take this journey with me, but don't judge what you read. Remember, it was just a dream.

That said, a lot of these dreams have at least one part of them that would be great in a story. Some of them would make amazing stories all on their own, so I do get a lot of writing inspiration from these pages. Maybe one day you'll read one of my stories and know exactly which dream inspired it!

Monday, February 5, 2018

Loving a Techie Genius Con Artist

In this dream, the techie man I had been so in love with looked and sounded exactly like Alec Steele, the blacksmith. It was pretty amazing.

I was in some sort of hospital or mall or something; a really big, open-hallway building with lots of halls and stuff. I was just walking along eating some sort of snack when I noticed a group of people to my right, all crowded around something, boycotting it and protesting it and stopping people because they seemed to be associated with...whatever it was. I walked around, acting as if I didn't care either way, when secretly I really loved the thing they were boycotting.

Up in front of me, by the row of glass exit door, was a booth. It was something to do with electronics or computers or tech devices of some sort, and sitting there in a chair was the most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life. I recognized him instantly as some self-made famous hacker or robotics guru or otherwise technological genius who could do anything with a few parts. I'm pretty sure he was involved with whatever the people were protesting, but no one messed with him because he was so high-up and practically untouchable when it came to his involvement. Everyone suspected him, but no one could prove anything. He was gorgeous. Blond, buff but lean, young but within my range. Taller than me (a requirement). I think his name was Alec. That's what we'll call him anyway.

Our eyes met, and his gaze knocked my feet out from under me, head over heels. I think he could tell I was on his side despite my feigned lack of interest in the protested thing, and when I stopped against the wall next to the exit, he walked right past me and got really close, staring into my eyes the entire time he went until he was past. I fangirled so hard in my head, I thought I would visibly shake. Though, to my credit, I didn't. One of the protesters asked if I was all right, and I said yes, I was just having a moment after Alec had walked past me. They seemed to think that I was on their side but shaking with hatred instead of adoration. Maybe I was shaking after all. He heard me mention him and turned his head just enough for me to see the smirk. It was enough to make me melt. It was almost as if we had interacted! He walked around into the bathroom, and a moment later he did the same intense smoldering stare as he walked back to his booth.

After a while of me leaning at the wall and staring at him and him tinkering with his gadgets and looking up at me, he tossed a small bolt or gadget onto his table and walked over again. As he went past, he raised a finger and called me to follow, the slow seductive gesture melting my heart all over again. I followed him right around the corner in front of the bathroom door, where he dug his hands into my hair and kissed me against the wall. Just like that, my addiction was on. It was ecstasy in that brief moment, his hands were warm and comforting and I felt so safe between him and the wall, as if all I needed to survive the rest of my life was to curl up in his arms. It was over almost as soon as it began, but that's all it took. I was like a scrap of metal that had just been magnetized: I needed to be around him, with him, near him. To stare at him if nothing else. To marvel at his glory and feel his presence and aid him in any and all ways he could want or need. He whispered to me, told me to meet him tomorrow at 7:30 and gave me directions through the strange mall hospital building to a particular desk on the other side. I knew of the desk, though I'd never been there, and I was nervous  because I didn't think I'd remember the directions  but I nodded anyway, because I would do anything, so I would try. I would meet him. He smiled and kissed me again before pulling away to the side and walked out from our hidden little alcove by the door. It was like I could feel the life draining away from me as my love went with him. I needed to be with him. Watching him walk away after that was both hard and wonderful. He wanted me. He wanted me.

I managed to find my way and meet him the next day, and life was grand after that. We became an item, an inseparable pair like fire and a forge. He was the passion that kept me going day after day, and together we made great things. He would take me back to his booth, which the sides folded down on to make it a sealed rectangular room. There wasn't much space inside because it was all covered in gadgets and techie toys, but there was a bed and a television. He lowered the roll-down doors on the side and the only light was from the screen. He lifted a stray wire out of the way so I could walk through, almost like opening a door for me. What a gentleman. We crawled onto the bed with a few small electronics around us and curled up together, tight and warm and secure with me against his chest. He kissed me again, and the rest of existence vanished. We were the only two in the world, and it was his world, but I wanted to spend my life there beside him. The safest place I knew was in his arms, and he liked to keep me there.

I started helping out with his jobs. He was always distanced from them, so there were never any ties to himself, and he was always there at his booth out in the open as things happened, nearly always being watched, and never doing anything wrong. A solid alibi by the police themselves. On the current job, the mall was full and busy. Another girl and I had set ourselves up in the bathroom with a small computer and were hacking into some system somewhere. People kept opening the door and coming in though—it was a terrible lock—so my mind was distracted. We got a text to my phone from Alec, warning us to "get out of there!" So we packed it up and rushed out. We passed by some cops along the way back to where we felt safe, but it was too late. I had forgotten my phone in the bathroom with that message right on the lock screen. It didn't say who had sent the message, only that it said it. Everyone knew I was associated with him, so I felt as if I had compromised him after all his work at staying distanced for so long. I made my way back toward the bathroom but didn't even get around the corner before running into a cop who had my phone in his hand. I could see Alec's booth out of the corner of my eye, and I knew he was watching me to see how I handled it.

I pretended to be a ditzy mallrat, seeming surprised that they had my phone and grateful that they had brought it to me. They questioned me, a bit casually, asking what the message was about. I told them it was an inside joke about getting out of the bathroom so he could see me again. I can't tell if they bought it, but I know it wasn't enough for them to get him. Especially since they had no idea what we had been doing in there and since it wasn't really connected to him.

They wouldn't give me my phone, though. They told me I could collect it on my way out later on, and that they were going to finish up their investigation. I had a very bad feeling that if I were to go grab it on my way out, it would somehow be a setup of sorts. Instead of heading toward the exit, I turned a few corners and went down an aisle with lots of racks of clothes hanging on it. At the bottom, half-hidden in the clothes, was the girl I had been in the bathroom with, our computer, and another person. They were hanging up new clothes on the rack while sliding the computer underneath, working and building a cover. The plan was still on, and things were still going. I hadn't screwed it up completely.

After a few hours, we split up and I went back around toward the exit so I could see about getting my phone and getting out. Except...the mall was closed. The doors were locked, all the main shops were sealed, and a security system was on. If I disrupted any of it, the security cameras would swivel around in my direction and start recording. If that happened and I did anything less than the ditzy mallrat I had let myself seem like, it would be a dead giveaway and I'd be an instant suspect. I looked out the doors. It was dark outside, the street only illuminated by streetlights and flashing signs. Alec had wheeled his booth outside (he lived in it, too, most of the time, so he brought it in and out of the mall most days). I could see his booth through the glass of the doors, right across the street beneath a streetlamp, and I could see him tinkering with one of his electronics. I took a moment to stop and stare. What an amazingly handsome, smart, wonderful man. I was absolutely in love and hated the position this put him in.

I picked up my phone, careful to make sure it didn't trigger the cameras. It seemed they wouldn't see me until I attempted the open the door. I could easily have acted my way out of there with my ditzy persona, but the job wasn't finished and I knew it was close. So instead, I called Alec.

I watched through the window as he walked over to his phone, picked it up, and answered. His eyes immediately jolted up to mine, and even across the street our connection was as strong as steel. He told me that he'd assemble a team to come in, finish the job, and get me out.

It didn't take long before three or four people were repelling down from the ceiling and into the mall. Two of them spread out, and Alec himself came running up to me to wrap me in his arms. I was so excited and also terrified. This was the first job he'd ever done that he physically put himself into, right into the thick of it, into the limelight. If we got caught...I tried not to think about it. My part of the job was over, so it was just a matter of waiting for those other three to finish up.

Something was going on outside, and I tried to look out the windows of the door. I don't remember ever touching the door itself, but it didn't take long for me to see the little red light on the security camera. And it was aimed right at me.

I froze. Slowly talking over my shoulder, careful not to move my mouth or head too much, I called for Alec and told him not to move or come near me. I didn't want the camera to know I wasn't alone, if it didn't already know. I asked him what I should do, and after a minute, he told me to act like the ditz I was the day before. So I did.

I instantly jumped into character, and when I finally moved, I lolled my head back and sighed, bringing it back up long enough to roll my eyes and act like I was supremely bored. Behind me, Alex and the others were wrapping it up. Alec shouted that he called in reinforcements to get us out of there, but that he wouldn't go anywhere without me by his side.

The commotion outside picked up, and I finally realized what it was. Cops, swat teams, and the presses had all encircled the building. All but the closest corner. This wasn't my doing, turning on the camera. They activated it manually. I gave up the ditz act and panicked just as a large tank-type truck rolled up at that closest corner, backwards, with the back open up and a man with a gun sitting inside. I was nervous and freaking out, but Alec told me that was his reinforcement. That was our way out. We busted through the glass door from both sides and I was hoisted up into the truck just as cops and such started swarming the building. They didn't even try to grab for me, as they had their sights set on a much more prominent target: Alec.

I cried. I screamed. I shouted. I yelled. I reached out.

Alec told me to go, that he'd catch up to me soon, but I didn't know what to do. The truck started moving but my man wasn't by my side, I couldn't leave him like this! I just couldn't!

I didn't have a choice. Hands held me down and voices assured me in soothing tones that he'd be fine, these were his orders, I was to be taken to safety and he'd be with us soon. I didn't believe a word of it.

But you know what? We finished the job. Alec made it out safely, too. He was waiting for me at the safe house. We couldn't go back to the mall and life as I knew it was over, since he had been compromised and they were after him, but we made it. And now, we were rich. Plus the job had a deeper meaning that had benefited the people of the city as well. It had all been worth it. And I had my Alec, my smart, sexy, genius, loving con artist. We were the only two in the world, and it was his world, but I wanted to spend my life there beside him.

Sunday, February 4, 2018

The Other Woman

I was getting Alyssa ready for school with the help of a woman who looked like a cross between Julia Roberts and Jean Gray. The woman kept freaking out, saying, "Everyone's going to know I'm the other woman."

Eventually I took her by the shoulders and grabbed her attention to say, "I was the other woman! When David went to school, I had pushed him out of me (when I had him) but I was the other woman!" Then I looked back to Alyssa and my expression softened and I continued. "Everyone is so excited for her."

We got her shoes on and started to pack her lunch, but all Jean could add was a pack of fruit snacks and all I had grabbed before waking up was a pack of club crackers.

Jungle Business

Okay, so this one is written out really rough right now because it was originally recorded through voice to text and I'm only just now transferring it over. Fair warning.

Another girl and I are going through the jungle. We had to get through dense underbrush, across a river, and up to this really strangely put building. When we went inside the front door, there was a man behind a counter on the opposite side of the room, sitting back in his chair, and he told us that...I think he said Santa Claus would be with us shortly, but he was talking about the man in back.

This businessman comes out from in the back, and I don't remember what we were there for or what he was promising, but he was saying stuff about making us happy in our lives and fixing our problems and making everything okay.

Somehow, we ended up running from this guy. It was like he was trying to kill us. He had this really big sharp knife, and I think at some point we got ahold of some knives as well, and we just really had to get away from this guy. But we weren't alone at that point. I believe there was a third person that we were trying to bring with us, someone who had already been there, someone this man had already been torturing and chopping into. And we grabbed this guy or this person and I think had him on some sort of makeshift stretcher, something that we were using to help carry him along, because I think his leg was broken or really badly cut up.

We're fighting with this businessman as we're making our exit, and the man behind the counter never did or said anything; he just looked up, kind of half-smiled, and then just kept sitting there doing whatever it was he was doing.

So there's this really big knife fight going on: me and this girl against the businessman. We're constantly slashing and reaching our knives out and catching the backs of each other's arms and legs, and I think at one point one of our stomachs even got a knife in it. I remember digging a knife into this man's back but it had the same effect as if it had grazed him—I mean he really just didn't feel it.

But we managed to get a head start away from him, and we're running through this jungle practically carrying this guy with us, and the whole time we just keep looking back over our shoulders. And we can see this businessman coming through the jungle. We get to the river, and this is where we really get held up. There's kind of a raft/boat here, and we manage to get onto it and we're taking these big poles to help push us, but I guess we're not trying to get to the other side, we're trying to get farther up river. But we're fighting all these weird things that keep coming at us, and I'm not really sure exactly what most of it was, but I feel like it may have been stuff like an intense amount of bugs, the businessman may have been in the water, we had trouble actually fighting the current.

To be honest, I don't even remember how it ended. I don't remember how we got away or if we even did get away. I do, however, remember that we were all bleeding a lot; we had a lot of cuts everywhere. The man that we had saved, I don't even know if he was going to live, but we were trying very hard to keep him alive. It really just hurt a lot, we had knife slashes in our skin in places we couldn't even reach.

All in all, it was one of the strangest dreams that I've had yet that actually put me into the story so intensely.

Saturday, February 3, 2018

Fancy Sleeper Agent

I kept waking up, but first I dreamed that I was close friends with this random bus driver and his wife. I'm not sure who they were (they weren't our local bus driver family) but I was over at their house for some reason and his wife was being really nice. We made plans to hang out on Monday.

As I was about to leave, the bus driver asked where I was going, and I said, "Well, home, of course."

And he asks, "Whatcha gonna do at home? Crochet?"

And I stopped and we had this huge moment, where I was so excited that he brought up crocheting, and we got to talking and come to find out, HE loves to crochet, too! So we were totally bonding and the whole time I kept being super conscious of my body language just in case his wife was looking out the window. I didn't want her to think it meant anything!

Then I woke up, and next thing I knew I was in this group of friends (I think one of them was literally Chandler from Friends, and Robin from How I Met Your Mother) and we were talking in this really fancy bedroom or library (think, like, a mansion). I can't remember what we were talking about but someone addressed Chandler and he didn't answer, he just stared at the closed door and started moving his hand in the air.

Suddenly, I'm looking through his eyes and the world turns to varying shades of gray and harsh lines, like someone had traced the whole world with an etch-a-sketch. But the lines around the door were all slightly moving, and I'm not sure but I THINK I was seeing the vibrations in the air! And I THINK I (Chandler) was trying to counter the vibrations. Like someone was at the door spying and he was trying to mask our presence. It was super cool, but he failed. He told us all to leave and once we were gone, this spy guy pops up from behind him and they fight.

Cut scene out to the hallway where everyone in the building is heading into the ballroom and dining area. Chandler comes out limping with his pants around his ankles, crying about how his boyfriend wasn't supposed to be like that or something (still trying to remember what he said but it was kind of sitcom-funny). Then James Van Der Beek comes out with a grin, zipping up his pants, and he gives me this huge smile and says some smart comment. I can't remember that either but it made the whole thing comical when in reality it probably wasn't supposed to be. Like the implications of their body language said one thing but their words painted a completely different picture. Someone bumped into me then, and the dream shifted...


It was like I was an activated sleeper agent. Everyone was dressed up for this fancy dinner being held by two local royals, a man and a woman (not married). I felt like each aspect of the night belonged to a different time period. Beauty and the Beast-style ballroom, eighties-wedding-style dining area and tables, Glee-classroom-style auditorium. But it all made sense.

I was strolling the room listening to conversations, taking note of small details like disturbed glasses and "how was your meal" suggestion slips. I distinctly overheard people saying they were afraid to be honest about the meal because the man had a habit of hanging people and the woman liked beheading.

I was supposed to infiltrate the main event, which was this entertainment being put on in the classroom. Like a movie set, the back half of the room was enclosed but the front half was wide open and people walked in from the ballroom. The audience was sitting in classroom chairs (plastic seats with metal legs).

There was a pudgy older announcer guy in the main seat and beside him was the guest of honor, a pretty blonde girl from an older century but in half-modern clothing. When she got up to get a drink, I swooped in and stole her seat as if I didn't know it was special and started flirting with the announcer through body language. Crossed legs, paying my full attention to him, fluttering eyelids, eye contact, the whole nine yards. The girl came back but I guess felt too shy or embarrassed to ask for her seat back, so she stayed standing. The announcer nearly tripped over his words because of me, so I think I was succeeding, until they called for volunteers for the show.

Three girls were picked and went up by the piano and they had to sing a verse to this song. The first girl did well, though her mic was quiet. We all clapped and laughed.

The second girl, though, was not prepared to be singing. She was nervous and scared and quiet. But she had a great voice when we got to hear a word or two loud enough. So I clapped for her and cheered her on,  the only person in the room making a sound, and I felt like I was kind of giving away my position and it was a little embarrassing, but I didn't care, because if I could encourage her to have confidence, she would excel. She did get louder and everyone heard how great she was, and they loved her. I was proud.

But the third girl, my goodness. She brought us to tears. She sang a song in a very Glee-style, and it had the word bitch in it like six times...but I think it's a real song. It was powerful and moving. And I woke up when she finished.

Monday, January 15, 2018

Bedding the Yakuza

I was at home, hosting a large group of people from various countries. Many of my guests seemed to have some level of importance in the world, but the one that kept my attention was the yakuza boss.

He was an older gentleman, easily in his fifties, with hard lines across his face that told of the stress and work he had put into the life and status he had built for himself. I can't say he wasn't handsome in his own way, though the thought of having any physical contact had haunted me for the past few hours. But, I knew it was inevitable. It had to happen. Lives depended on it.

I had no knowledge of who I worked for, let alone whose lives were at stake. All I knew for certain was that gaining the yakuza's trust was vital and that the fastest way to a man's heart is between someone else's legs. Today, those legs would have to be mine.

Harmless flirting ensued, carefully concealed among social conversations with other crime syndicate leaders. It was nice not having to hide my constant staring, though I did have to keep my lips curled upward to hide my growing disgust. I'd never had to talk myself into sleeping with someone before, and mentally noting his positive traits wasn't making a difference. His hands looked rough, his eyes looked cold, and his demeanor showed that he wasn't interested anyway.

In some way, I feel like he was told to seduce me as well. The idea rolled around in my head, and I laughed to myself at the thought that we were both talking ourselves into this act of trickery that neither cared for. We might as well have talked to each other and decided on a bunch of facts we'd feel comfortable pretending to have weaseled out of each other just to keep our clothes on. Of course, he never said anything, and I wouldn't either, so the slow dance to the inevitable continued.

When I suggested we retire to my bedroom to relax with a movie, he acted as if he had expected it. He simply nodded and excused himself from everyone else, and he even led me into my own room.

I was terrified.

He removed his jacket and laid down on his side, propping his head in his hand with his elbow. I must have looked more awkward than a literal elephant in a room as I tried to lay down beside him. I shuddered every time my leg brushed the comforter just knowing what I had to do. Finally I crawled up in front of him and laid down the same way, but with my head lying in my elbow instead of propped up. We were still inches apart; I couldn't bring myself to press up against him or even get close enough to touch. My skin crawled, not only with the idea of touching this man but also with the fear that my husband would walk in at any moment. Apparently he wasn't privy to the life-or-death situation. I stared at the TV, wondering if I could just continue with the fake plan of watching a movie and perhaps even find a more innocent position should someone stumble into the room and catch us alone.

My thoughts were interrupted when the yakuza boss rose from the bed and rushed out the door. I was alarmed, for sure, but I was also immensely relieved. He came back in carrying a cup of water, in a slightly less rush, and rummaged through a black bag on my dresser. Pulling out a small pill bottle, he removed a few and popped them into his mouth, chasing them with the water.

My heart and mind raced to conclusions, reaching the same one at the same time. Did he just take a Viagra? Is he preparing for this to actually happen? How long do those pills take to kick in, how long do they last for, and is he expecting to enact this for the entire duration? What did I get myself into?!

My face must have revealed my worries, because he held up a hand and tilted his head, as if putting me at ease. "No," he explained, "this is not what you think it is."

And it wasn't. It really, really wasn't. Apparently, as he showed me, it was a stool softener his doctor had prescribed him because his stomach had been hurting lately.

I'm not sure if I was more embarrassed for him for having to tell a stranger about his bowel issues, or for me for the fact that I had brought him into my bedroom when he would have preferred to be in my bathroom, or perhaps for the both of us for letting it get as far as it had. Either way, I was grateful that my legs were not the path to his heart today after all, and with so much mystery gone between us already, I doubted it would ever lead to his heart. Someone else would have to seduce him now, and I couldn't help but giggle with relief.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

But, donkey, where are your legs?

This one was quite simple and quick, actually. My husband and I were visiting this pet store (what is it with me and pet stores in my dreams?) but the store also happened to be the owner's house. More like a mansion, really, but filled with tanks and aquariums and wandering animals.

I'm not sure what we were there for, but we had our eye on these two donkeys hanging out around the sweeping staircases in the center of the home.

But not just any donkeys.

No, these two each only had two legs: one in the front and one in the back. How did they walk? How did they stand? How were they even still alive? Who knows. Dream logic strikes again. Either way, we stood there for a while, watching these two donkeys hobble around, until I finally commented on it.

"Well, honey, they look pretty good to me. What do you think?"

"They look pretty healthy. Let's get them."

. . . . . .

...what the what?

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Put It Through Hell

The third dream of the evening. It actually seemed to be a flashback of the first dream, taking place during the family gathering. It was just completely independent of the events of that first one.

I was sitting down talking with the family, and Mike and his mom were discussing cooking. She was laughing, saying, "Man! My husband can't cook at all. He can't even boil water right!"

To which Mike replies, "Well, sometimes with the ones we love, their flaws are the things we love the most. They make us love them more. For example, I mean, I seem to recall somebody trying to burn our house down boiling water."

I instantly divert my full attention to the conversation. "Oh, hell no. Please do not tell this story."

He just laughs and continues telling the story that he tells over and over about the time I tried to boil eggs and ended up forgetting them on the stove. Hours later we come home and the house is full of smoke, the smoke detector is going off, the propane burner on the stove is still turned on, and the pot is still sitting on the burner, but it's completely bone-dry. The inside of the pot is black and there are bits of charred egg not only in the pot but all over the kitchen. They had completely exploded.

He turned off the breakers just in case (before we knew it wasn't an electrical fire), I turned off the stove (once I found it on), we opened all the doors and windows and started clearing the house out...but it was only after the smoke had cleared somewhat that we realized the smoke killed my bird. Literally, smoke inhalation was the cause of death of my favorite cockatiel. (We buried her an hour or so later in the front yard, though I'm not sure if she's even still there anymore since the cats and dogs love to dig.)

But, he was telling this story in the dream and I was fighting him along the way, because I hate when he tells the story; it makes me look stupid and forgetful. In my defense, I was pregnant at the time, and you know you don't really have all your brain cells at that point. In the dream, of course, I was kind of laughing as I told him to stop, so I wasn't completely serious. I guess I was just embarrassed.

I remember asking, "Why do you love to tell that story so much? It makes me look stupid. How did that make you love me more?"

This is where he came in with something completely profound, and I wasn't expecting it out of him. He says, "The things we love people for are not the things they're best at, but the things they mess up. We love people for their mistakes and their flaws, because they are challenges and hardships we work through together, and that brings us closer. It's like making a sword. You don't harden your metal with flowers and candy. You forge it in fire and beat it with a hammer and put it through hell. That is how you make something stronger. And it's the same with relationships. It's the hard things that make it what it is, that make it last."

And I just thought that line about forging needs to be in a book somewhere because it's beautiful.

Loving a Techie Genius Con Artist

In this dream, the techie man I had been so in love with looked and sounded exactly like Alec Steele, the blacksmith. It was pretty amazing....