WK and Lostindeath Unite!

I had a horrible dream last night.
I went to pick up Maddox (my cat) from his surgery (which he got a couple of weeks ago)... only it looked more like the dentist's office.
I got there and was like "I'm here to pick up my cat!" and they were like, "no, you can't..."
and I was like "Oh! Should I pick him up later tonight?" and they were like, "ummm... no..."
"Tomorrow, then?" I asked... and they were quiet... One of the receptionists looked like she was about to cry.
"Why not?!" I asked, confused. And the older one said... "because... something went wrong... we don't know why, but... He just died..."
O.O
I fell down to the floor and started sobbing and screaming cause my Maddox was dead. O.O That's where it ended. And then it repeated over and over all night. I was freaked out when I woke up, but then I realized I had picked him up weeks ago and that he was fine. :( Poor kitty in my dream.

-Kat

A quick note of this dream -

I was in a part with some friends. We were doing something vaguely artsy, like sketching on notepads or some such. Nothing spectacular, just having fun in the cool fall weather.

Suddenly, Johnny Depp appears!

He sees us scribbling (or whatever we were doing) and comes up to me. He needs help, he explains. For some reason, Tim Burton quit on the "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" movie, so Johnny was going to be the director AND the lead actor. But, he was having some visual problems. First, he showed me some of the network. It was still largely touched by Burton, but one significant difference - instead of black and white patterns, they were changed to pink and orange. BRIGHT colors. Anyway, he pulled a family of characters, in full costume, out for me to see. He knows there is something wrong with their costumes, but he can't pinpoint the issue. This is my test, and I see immediately what was wrong. Their pinks and oranges weren't bold enough. Some were solid colors, some were big prints, but nothing matched the 'pop' of the stage. I sat there and pointed out what could be changed about each, and Johnny sat there and cut the offending costumes up while I talked. Eek! I told him to stop that - they were neat costumes, just not right for this purpose.

Thus I earned a position as a "creative consultant" for Johnny Depp on this movie!

Later on, we were at some Hollywood party. I'm not sure the occasion or who all was there. I DO remember some guy getting snubbed - the girl said something like "You haven't even finished your book yet! Hell, you haven't even submitted a single chapter!" and slammed the door in his face. Meanwhile, I and a few other women were "protecting" Johnny from all the women who wanted to get him in the sack. I was defending him, for his own sake and for his family. I can't believe it! I didn't make a single pass at him in my dream.

-wyldkyss

My dream last night was disturbing.

Why is it, that on the rare occasions I have sex in my dreams, it tends to be violent and disturbing? Why can't I be normal and have sex dreams involving azazyael instead of this stuff? Then again, I'm almost never personally involved with the sex part, either. These are the parts of dreams where I'm simply an observer...

The beginning of the dream seemed to be pure symbolism.

I was there, and so was another guy. It was a younger teenager me, and the guy next to me was about the same age. Every time I tried to put an identity do this person, it would shift and change.

We were outside of a rural home, almost a cabin really, with a nice kept yard and then trees all around it. This is similar to the setting of the last dream I wrote, but the house itself was different. It didn't matter though, because I never went in it. There was a man that lived in there, and we were looking in the windows for some reason. He was a giant, a brutish dirty man with a terrible temper as we quickly found out. He came storming out of the house and chased us. Running, I realizes we both were either topless or had on shirts that left our shoulders bare. The guy with me had two large, red, puckered scars over his shoulder blades - almost circular. I felt my shoulders and saw that I had the same.

The giant caught the boy first. I couldn't see what happened, it was all over so fast... a blur of motion and then a scream of pain. Blood covered the boy's back, and he was crying on the ground. I stopped and looked in shock - but I stayed still too long. The Giant caught me next. My immediate reaction was literally fight or flight - and I tried to fly. Splintered bones popped through the healing puckered flesh on my back, remnants of wings. They feebly flapped and bled, but I couldn't get away. While one hand cruelly held my arm tight, the other reached for the splinter remains and ripped them from my back with little effort. Blood started to flow, and I was crying on the ground next to the boy. It definitely marked the end of something, something that could never grow back. From here, it got fuzzy... I just remember more running...

The second half of the dream, I don't want to record. It's stuck in my brain, and I want it out. It centered around the BAN people in some strange 70's house, but then transferred to some obscenely rich black rap group. I know that this image must have sparked some of it, because children were sodomized and used sexually in any other way you could imagine. Some of the other adults were too - side people, not members of the groups, and not 'worthy' to be seen as valued people. Some were killed with little thought, and some returned home, ashamed of what had happened. The main groups, the next days, all tried to make a cover of appearing wholesome, but it was far too late. Incriminating evidence was already out there...

-wyldkyss

It started in an old house in a small town. Everyone had at least an acre of yard, and orchard trees that ran along property lines. The land itself was a bit hilly, and the air was crisp and cool. This was old farm land, and the houses were probably all over 100 years old. Most were two stories, and several yards still had the old barn structure nearby, complete with that top level that's usually used to store hay and other things like that.

Strange things were afoot at the Circle K house. We finally had a hypnotist, this woman, come in and agree to try to hypnotize us. The goal was to try to uncover some recent mysterious quirks in my siblings. Before the session, I'd done a quick painting for Karen. In the hypnosis, it was more detailed, a plan to paint a mural on her bedroom wall. The finger paint purple squiggles became decorations lines on a kindly old-fashioned moon face. There were trace lines of movement and shimmer involved, and the lines themselves had morphed into something that resembled three even-length clock arms on the moon's face, equidistant to each other. I couldn't grasp why it changed the image I'd drawn, and I started to grump about the whole hypnotherapy session.

When they finally game to my session, it put me in a dream that I'd had. In this dream, we were in the backyard of the house in question. I could see the barn by the moonlight, with those tiny swinging doors open on top. Behind the house, the grass was still green and supple like summer. There was a pool back there now, a plain rectangular one but with brick edging instead of concrete. I'd put three palm trees in the backyard as well, but the other people there didn't like them. So, I changed them, took them out entirely. I started to put an apple tree to one corner side of the pool, between the house and the pool itself. I got encouragement, so I sat there and let it mold and change to my whim. Finally, I made a matching tree on the other side of the pool, and let them evolve together. They became willow trees, young ones hardly taller than a person, though with the drooping branches it may have been a lot taller. I remember they seemed a bit thin, so I slowly added extra branches to each and willed them to grow more leaves for coverage.

After I'd done all of that, I somehow was under the willow trees. I was hovering over the water and under the branches in some sort of goddess-like pose. My eyes were closed and my face was looking upwards. My arms were slightly out, in a small sign of acceptance and comfort. My legs were slightly bent, and a skirt almost trailed the water. Then I started to glow, like a scene in Beauty and the Beast... but no light rays. It was a soft glow around my whole body.

When the therapy session was over, I was suddenly back at work, at the calendar kiosk. I found myself bored (as always) and so I was rearranging the calendars again. I'd found three sets of matching calendars, but I don't know what the subject matter was. All I remember is there was a large square one, then some regular hanging sizes, and then some 365 day calendars for each set. I gathered them all up and divided them by set on three shelves. My classmates walked up to me then, and we realized we needed to be split up into teams - there were too many of us there. I don't know what we were going to do, but I came up with a solution. Instead of picking straws to put us into three teams, we were going to (for some reason) pick a row of the calendars that I just arranged. Then we'd be in three groups.

My group ended up going to a large toy store, something like Toys R Us. Jason was there, and so was Bob. I can't remember the rest of my friends, because they were all looking at toys. When Jason and I went to the register, we decided last minute to ask for the Ai Yori Aoshi dvd's. They were out, but sent us to look back on the dvd isle. Once back there, we still couldn't find it - but I did notice they were almost out of popcorn (a huge section of shelves was devoted to bags of the stuff). Apparently it all cost $8, too! Too much!

Anyway, we went back to the registers. We were going to buy plane tickets home, instead. Yes, at Toys R Us. Because they sell everything (but the anime I wanted). Bob was there again, and he was already in line... so I asked him to get my ticket, too. He finally got to the front of the line, but then he leaned over to a register two lines over. I looked over, trying to see what he was doing. There was a line of grey haired ladies with name tags on their shirts. He heard they were getting group discount tickets for a flight to Jackson. He asked the lady at the end if we could join their group, since that's where we were going. They smiled and said sure, and so we got to go home for less.

While they were still buying tickets, they were laughing and talking to each other. I asked what sort of group they were in, and they told me they were all nuns of some special branch of religion. I don't remember the religion, but it turned out that they were all lesbians! And then, one turned and asked in an old lady voice about what movie theatre she could buy the Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas game. I was confused and told her to get it here at the toy store... but she'd need a game system to play it first.

And then I woke up. I still have yesterday afternoon's caffeine in my system, too...

-wyldkyss

I didn't sleep well last night.
I had a horrible dream, that was far too realistic for comfort given the material.
I was at the restaurant, or something configured vaguely like it. The back door was the same 4 inch thick metal, only it shut like the freezer door does with the pressure and seals. (and locks in a heavy duty fashion once closed.)
I was with some chick, just some random person, but in the dream she was a friend of mine. We went outside to take out the trash, and there was a party going on across the street, in the house that used to be across the street from the restaurant before it burned down.
Suddenly this dude comes running over towards us, and we start to head for the door cause he was seriously drunk. We were almost there when he pulled out a knife. We started to run. He was saying... something... about how he just wanted to play with us a little bit, and what were we scared of? (it was different than that, but the same basic point.) He caught me, held my arms behind my back and up a bit, and started to carve something in my back. A design or something, just fucking with me basically. I started to scream, "Quit it! Quit it! Quit it!!!" and tied to get away. The chick in front of me, who had almost reached the door, jumped back at him, distracting him so that he lunged at her before she could get him. She screamed at me to get in and shut the door or he'd get us both. I ran in and shoved all my weight on the door to make the pressure go faster. Then I leaned against the door and listened to her screams as he stabbed her over and over. Somehow I knew that she had grabbed the knife from him and stabbed him one good time before he took it back and stabbed her again. He fell and I could hear her sobbing in pain. I went to open the door to get her inside, but I heard someone's tires screaching as they came into the parking lot. I knew if I opened the door and puller her in, with the pressure seals causing the delay in the door I wouldn't be able to shut it in time to keep whoever had just arrived looking for his friend out. The new guy shot her from his truck (I could see what was happening outside in my dream, despite being closed behing a hugely thick door.) over and over and over, not ever getting a killing shot in.
I could hear her screaming, and couldn't do anything, knowing if I tried to help I'd be killed too. So I was listening to her and woke up like that, all locked up and tense and freaked the fuck out. It was 4 am when I woke up, and I could -not- convince myself it was safe to go back to sleep again for hours.

And I know what brought that shit on too. Last night Chris (the new manager who used to be a Navy Seal) kept getting upset at me leaving the door to the line open when I went through it with dishes and the such. I was like, "why not?" and he said he didn't like inviting people to come back there. And I told him no one had ever even tried before. He said, "you've never had a gun held to your head before, have you?" and I was like... "dude... we're on the fucking resevoir..." but yeah. His paranoia woke up in my head in my sleep apparently...

-Kat

Walker's house, rural area

two story

remodeled

hidden walkways... rickity stairways that lead to nowhere, doorways that are gaping holes to the internal wiring of the house. A catholic alter with gas line for eternal lights in the first one, over the kitchen... secret doors that we weren't allowed to open. Some even say "Do not open!" signed by Walker's dad.(that one is outside)

A sleeping monster, a demon of sorts, lives in a secret chamber there.

Wakes up because we're all there. Playing paintball. Think this is influenced by a dream Bob told me about.

The demony thing reminds me or something. Maybe a monster off of Buffy or Angel. Either way, he's ok, just sorta demony. Likes to talk. Raises a baby, who turns out to later be Kelly Varner?? Not even sure where the kid came from, just sorta appeared, a little red headed girl.

(need to flesh it out later, now that I have outline)

-Kristin

I woke up suddenly this morning, gagging and unable to breath. That was no fun :/

I remember a bit of my dream. I've been having vivid ones all week (full moon is rising!) but I have trouble remembering them, later.

This one involved going downtown - not sure WHAT town, because it sure wasn't Jackson. It was bigger - more interstates in stacked formation. Lots of bridges to get there. Jack and I were driving to some event downtown, chatting as we drove, when suddenly we slammed on the brakes. There was a road block of sorts, where police had made a temporary ramp for this event. Motorcycles with blue blinky lights made a diagonal line across the road, and cars were lined up, waiting to take this new exit. We, of course, get in line too.

Once we get down off the interstate, we park and head towards the event. It was sort of like the fair, but more sprawling in the downtown area. Different area businesses opened their door to the event, and would serve special foods or have booths with things on display. When we got to the little table to enter though, we realized that I was the only one with a VIP pass. So I decided we should bluff our way through, we me talking a lot (since it seems I knew the ticket-taker) and snuck Jack by during the conversation, like he was supposed to be there.

Once in the event, it gets a little fuzzy. There was definitely a pub at one point that we went into. It was empty but for us and the bartender. Jack sat at a table in the front, because it looked like the Mad Hatter's tea table, and ate his food there (we had gotten some take out at another booth). I decided I wanted to sit in the back, in the library section. While sitting back there, I found a little box on an end table. In it were business cards left by Voltaire and wolven. Random, eh?

(Section of the dream I can't remember. Or maybe I'm thinking of a part of the night before's dream? Something about downtown... and cars... and parking garages... and creepy old men.)

Later that night, we walked around... and got lost. We decided to walk around the event area and get back to our car, but then realize later that we have to go THROUGH the event to get back to the parking area. So once again, we bluff and bluster a ticket taker (this time, it was someone Jack knew). He also got some nice cooked squash out of the deal. Mmm. Squash.

I forgot some of the dream, and I know I can't remember the beginning. The point that I DID start remembering things involved an unusual college campus. I was running,

Shift

running, running...

Shift

I think I was running away from something at first. There were other people running with me or ahead of me. In the end though, I was running to make it to the first day of a new class.

The ground was covered in rain-slick grass. I headed towards a little concrete path that ran to the left of the buildings and black iron light poles. My pink backpack rested heavily at my back as I careened around the corner to the class. It was very unusual, and I didn't know what to make of it. The left wall was missing, and instead had a tent-like awning over the opening. Thick veleteene curtains rested beyond that, mostly covering a stage from view. Under the awning rested a few long desks, with a teacher's podium sitting at an odd angle to the rest. Students were milling about and waiting for class to start.

The teacher finally showed up, and when I try to put a face on him, I keep imagining that he looked like John Cleese in my dream. I don't think he really did in the dream, but that's the aspect I'm assigning to him now. He was our professor of Creative Writing... but it wasn't quite that either. It was a very free form class with writing and poetry and theater. Once class was settled and the teacher sort of explained things to us, we went through a few creativity exercises. loki_sataere stood up and gave a rambling monologue that started on one topic and shifted so many times that no one knew what he was talking about. But he said it well, and he got a few claps for it. I sat at the table, stumped as to what I should do. The teacher got into this overly passionate explanation and example with me. I can't remember what it was, but it was just odd. Even for performance art, it made no sense. Something about throwing food (maybe it was candy, still in the wrappers) at someone. I don't know.

Shift. Forgotten parts of the dream. Shift.
We were at work, my kooky crew and I. The job was still ISP tech support but everything else was different and new. The place that we worked was richly decorated. The walls were a dark, highly polished wood with ocassional velvet tapestries, hung like haphazard bits of swag in jewel tones of blue, purple, and rust. The floor was also a beautiful wood, but this one had a lighter, golden gleam to it. The room itself was a large rectangular one, with a half wall dividing it down the center lengthwise. The phone that we all shared to answer sat on a desk in front of the half wall. The coworkers were selected from the people in my class, and Goat was the only one that I recognized. Either way, we were all chummy and had known each other for years.

But Goat... he had done something bad. I don't know what, but he shouldn't have done it. Also, he wasn't at work.

We were at work, and a call came in. I answered it, and recognized Goat's voice on the other end of the line. I didn't know why he wasn't at work, or why he was calling, so I thought it would be funny to act like he was a regular customer. The first time he called, he played along. Apparently at this place, the routine was to have the customer talked to trained monkeys - literally - before they spoke to actual technicians. It was supposed to be our cute gimmick that at the same time shuffled the customers with actual problems from those that were just stupid.

He called again, and we repeated the process. He sounded a bit aggravated this time, and we'd put the phone on speaker and laugh as he began to rant. He never said what he needed though, so it seemed harmless enough. We kept this up for several minutes.

Shift.

I can see Goat now, talking to us on a cell phone. He was in his car.... under water or near enough. His car was sinking fast and he had his head up by the ceiling where the last of the air remained. In his process of running from the bad thing he did, he managed to jump his car into a lake. Something told me he was hiding in the lake, but wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer. The water was so blue, but his air was dwindling fast. And still he kept talking to the trained monkeys on the phone while we listened and laughed.

- wyldkyss

This dream involved Christy W and Me. We were getting together to spend the evening out, dressed up and having fun. She had made all the plans, so I was just going to go along with whatever she picked for us to do.

When I got to her place, she grabbed her keys and said she'd be driving. That always sounds like a good idea, so we get together in her little silver car and hit the highway. As Christy is driving, she mentioned that we're going to go see an old high school friend of hers. She babbles a little about him, and then pops his name out - I swear it was Van Halen, but it may have been another 80's rocker and I just can't remember the name now. Despite the huge age difference, dream logic told me that maaaaybe that was true. We drive through a large pictureesque university complex, past students lounging and walking about on the green and the multiple pillared buildings. Past the school is a building that might have fit as a dorm. As we drive up though, it turns into a gated apartment complex, with a voice box to get in.

Christy buzzes the guy's apartment, but no one answers. The door happens to be open so we let outselves in. The building looked nice on the outside, even rich, but the inside shows signs of wear and age. We sit in the lobby and talk a little bit, when a guy walks around the corner. Now, Christy and I are dressed in nice black clothes - her's is a black miniskirt with a silk black top, while mine is some sort of black linen dress with intricate black beadwork on the trim. This guy however is wearing jeans, a tshirt, and a baseball cap. Oh, gee, look. It's Kid Rock! Yet another band person that I don't enjoy, but here he is. He introduces himself in a goofy guy way and tries to come up with something witty to say, but fails. As he is attempting conversation, Van Halen walks through the front door. He smiles when he sees Christy, and they just brush us off and walk upstairs to his apartment. Well. That was rude! And it left me sitting there, staring at Kid, wondering what to do.

He suggests we go for a walk while they're up there, which sounds as good of an idea as any since I didn't drive here. When we walk outside, the building looks more age-worn, and there are little old lady potted plants hanging from every patio door. The road, which once held large intimdating buildings and many co-eds, now looked deserted. Actually, it seemed to me to be an area that was underdeveloped. The land on other side of the road had been cleared, and recently, but nothing was growing there, no buildings stood beside the apartment complex. So we talk a walk down the road, and it is at least 45 minutes before we get anywhere. Kid tries to entertain me with some good ol' boy redneck trivia and points of interest, and I find I can't help but like him for his goofy charm. Now that I think about it, he didn't look like Kid Rock either. Hum.

We find a few houses that have been built, but there are large vacant dirt lots between the few suburban homes here. Kid just walks up to the backdoor of one and lets himself in, and so I follow. There is a room with a small, low-set twin bed and a tall oaken dresser with a tv on top of it. It's hot in here, so we take our outer clothes off and sit around, talking and watching bad tv. Nothing naughty happened, it was just too hot to keep all of our clothes on.

Suddenly, we hear someone in the front of the house. We jump up and run to the door, pushing it shut at the same time someone tries to come in. I'm trying to hold the door shut and lock it while Kid is putting his clothes back on. Whoever is out there, really wants in - they're pounding at the door and a fist comes flying through the cheap wood. That is the point where I give up on defense and run to the back of the room to put my dress back on over my slip. Kid goes towards the door, and then realizes with great relief that it's someone that he knows and a few other guys as well. We talk and establish why we're both there. I realize around this time that this isn't a neighbourhood that's being built, but a suburb that never fully developed - they cleared the land, put up a few crackerjack houses, and just... gave up.

As we're talking, Andy comes in the living room and announces that it's time to go home. I stare at him for a minute and wonder how he find us, and WHY he came to get me. I suppose daddy Andy said it was almost past my curfew or something. We go outside and he hops into his car and drives down the road. Parked behind the car, propped on a street lamp, is a bicycle built for two. Kid and I jump on that and try to ride it home. It was very difficult and uncoordinated at first. I let him peddle by himself but it isn't enough to move the bike well, so I try again. Eventually we get together and steer the bike home.

As we are driving back down the road, the campus is gone, the suburb is gone. Now it is a Mexican village, with stucco walls and flat roofs and dirty roadways. Kid's watch-com started blinking and he answered it. It's his friend, looking a little apolgetic. "Oh yeah, um. I borrowed that bike from the town. Um. They might want it back." Oh, great. We peddle in to about where the apartment should have been, through the dirty village. There is a doorway to an ally, and it's peopled with young boys and old men who want to proposition them. Sitting at the corner is the guy that owns the bike. He sees the bike and yells out to catch our attention. He threatens to come do something to us if we don't pay for the bike and all the time its been missing. I snap and threaten back, lifting the bike in the air above my head. He got two choices: take the bike without further complaint, or have me throw it on his head and then snatch it back, keeping it. He thinks I'm crazy and tells me in a meek voice that he'll take it with no more trouble. Good.

The two story building next to the allyway is now the apartment. We walk inside and Christy and Andy are sitting on the couch in the lobby. "Where WERE you"? Christy asks, and takes me to the car to go home...

-wyldkyss

We were... somewhere, mom, dad and I. I can't remember where the dream started, but later on we were on a cruise ship. A lot of my dreams seem to be on ships from time to time, and it's never a good place to be. I'm sure we had an excellent reason for it, but I forgot it as soon as we came up with the excuse... we killed everyone on the ship. Or maybe they died, but we still kept the bodies. Systematically, we cut each on up and loaded them into shiny metal boxes stuffed with sawdust and shredded paper for comfort. The boxes were many different sizes, so the bodies were cut accordingly. In this one, a whole torso. That long box there holds a leg. That tiny one has a foot. They were all packed into boxes, and before we left the ship the boxes were in turn put into filing cabinets to hide them. We wheeled them off the ship like we were moving regular furniture, doot de doot de doooo.

We loaded them up in a van (which certainly shouldn't have been able to hold so many filing cabinets, but magically it did) and rolled them into the house quickly. There were plans to bury the boxes in the backyard, but for some reason I had to leave. Slight paranoia and an obligation to be at work. I drove through to a gas station, and then was making my way on out. While idling at a red light, a SWAT van slowed down on the other road and then started to stop and block the road. Uh oh. I turned around and went back to the store. Now, what I was doing back in the store, I'm unclear... but I had a shopping buggy full of freshly laundered sheets and I was trying to go through the sliding doors, when cops pulled up and made the doors shut on me.

They came back inside, and I went to the counter, next to the guy that worked there. I still had my buggy full of sheets, but then I had a uniform on like I worked there. The cops said they were going to ask us a few questions. I prepared to put on my innocent face, but the cop threw me for a loop. Holding some pictures to his chest, he flipped the first one over dramatically as he was asking "Do you know.... THIS person?" It was a doodle of a smiley face. My innocent face was quickly replaced with a confused one, and the clerk and I dumbly shook our heads "no". The next picture was a better drawn comic face, and it made the clerk laugh and me look more confused. But instead of a third picture, the cop threw a hand on the counter and asked it if looked familiar. I was caught in debate - do I look innocent? Do I ask why he walks around with a mannequin's hand? Do I cry and squeal and yell "Ick!!!" What should my proper response be?

I woke up debating this.

-wyldkyss