Dream Journal
January 7, 1998
The dream begins with Rebecca and I in a road race using muskets and shotguns to get ahead. Afterwards we go to the lodge to check out and I forget I still have the musket in my hand. I want to leave it behind but can’t really — like I already committed to it. Rebecca checks out, then two others, then it’s my turn. I have to show three IDs. I hold them out to the dark-haired woman and wait, going into a bit of a daze. I didn’t notice that I had got in the way of her cleaning up. I’m sure it seemed rude. I became more lucid and apologized but she wouldn’t accept it. I explained that I didn’t mean to get in the way and she wouldn’t believe it. She was mad and blowing me off and I got really angry and jumped up onto the counter screaming what a very rude person she was being and everyone around was slightly shocked by my outburst of rage. As I was turning to walk out, this young, immature-looking kid from my dream-side youth group turns to me and says to a friend, “Look! He did it again!” As if my behavior was often like this and had really been getting to him.
Troubled, I exit and Rebecca and I go to this old garage-like mall. It’s filled with people our age. It’s a little bit friendly and fun, and a little bit scary. We’re looking around and it’s like how I remember Bob’s Produce Market, with lots of earthy smells. Further back, there’s some movement and Rebecca tells me that the rude girl up front wasn’t very liked and the people there heard my story and were going to get her fired.
After other assorted bits, Rebecca and I go to a food area in this cobblestone mall. Everyone was growing impatient waiting for the guest of honor to arrive, so someone had thought to break out the wine. The waiter asked if I wanted white or rose, and I said rose twice but he kept looking at me. It seemed like he was still waiting for an answer. Behind him, over his right shoulder was a rose. Then it disappeared. Then it reappeared as a bunch of white roses, then disappeared again. Each change attracted more attention and I thought he was a magician and was trying to figure out how he did it. This was followed by a stage show with a color-changing veil.
In hypnogogia, I was trying to project an image out so I could draw it. I tried a US map, but it had 2 Floridas! Do I have a dream astigmatism?
References: My mom used to take me to Bob's Produce Market when I was a baby.
Thought-Form Communication: Were the roses in the waiter’s aura? Were they thought-form creations due to his question of white or rose? It’s almost like he was flashing the question in his mind at me, and it took physical form. The “stage show” with the color-changing veil afterwards sounds a lot like viewing an aura, and probably was.
Take No Shit: My take-no-shit attitude in the dream state sometimes goes too far. I’m glad I have this strength of will, but maybe I use it too much? This kid certainly thinks so.
Smells in Dreams: It’s not often that a smell is featured in a dream, and usually it’s because it’s being integrated from the waking world. But here is an example where it probably isn’t from the waking world, but from a memory.
My Dream-Side Youth Group: I refer to “my dream-side youth group” here, which I can’t currently recall anything about. But it’s clear that there’s a group I’m a part of in the dream world.