Even in Kyoto

Because for years my younger sister used to wake up on Saturday mornings and then proceed to launch into what always felt like a 45-minute excruciatingly detailed recounting of whatever dream she had, I'm often reluctant to recount dreams.

But the one I woke up from this morning seemed kind of amazing. It was a riff on the recurring transportation dream theme. For transportation dreams, I'm supposed to go somewhere, but somehow the navigational methods to get there are strangely complicated: subway cars that operate more like rollercoasters, roads with underwater segments, all kinds of convoluted back passageways and alleys, the like.

In this morning's dream, I was trying to get to The Airport*, but I had two pieces of luggage I wanted to take with me, except for some reason it didn't make sense to just carry them along while getting a ride from someone. (I think I was carpooling on an Elf-like contraption; it wasn't a full car).

So instead, I launched them into space using a method where they would land somewhere near The Airport, so once we got close we could just hunt around for each item, pick it up, and then bring it with us to The Airport. I guess there was some form of tracking device on each luggage piece so we could see where the pieces landed and then go get them.

All I know is, we managed to find the luggage that contained my folding bike, but were still searching for the other piece of luggage when I woke up.

I was pretty seriously disoriented for a minute, until I remembered I was at home and not planning on any travel for at least another month.

Thanks, brain!

*The Airport has also figured in multiple transportation dreams; there are always strange issues with boarding or seats on the airplane or finding the right gate or whatnot.

The last time we spoke on the phone, right before his birthday, my father brought up the subject of dreams, and asked if dreams had any meaning. I believe I stammered out something about how, in the very least, they can have powerful personal meaning. He told me of a beautiful dream he'd had recently.

After my last post, written at such a painful time of night, I went back and read over a lengthy e-mail exchange from this past October, written when I was able to use the internet as a communication medium in a safe space. I have only just regained that ability here in Lincoln yesterday; the neighbors finally shared their wifi network name and password (I've been refusing to shell out that much money for yet one more extravagance for myself, but have been working on the situation). Up until now, I had to go to a public space (cafe) or to my shared office. I could get LJ posts to work from the phone, but that was it.

Then, back to sleep, where I had three back-to-back dreams.

In the first dream, I was taking a bath in a giant bathtub. Partway through, a tiny young girl, either a second younger sister or some younger clone of myself, came into the bathroom, and asked what I was doing. She told me, in her small child's voice, that she never took baths, only showers, and was amazed by what I was doing, as I unplugged the tub and watched all the water swirl out. I was struck by a need to take care of this fragile young girl.

In the second dream, I was leaving from somewhere, late at night, on my bicycle, riding to somewhere else unknown. As I rode towards a pitch-black forest, I realized I didn't have my bike's headlight, so I got off of my bicycle to walk. Just then, a shadowy man leapt out of the bushes, holding a gun and pointing it to my head. I remembered thinking that I should fight, and began to struggle with the hand that held the gun, trying to wrest it away, less afraid of the bullet than of the consequences of compliance. The hand was forceful and strongly resisted, and the dream ended.

In the third dream, I was with S, at the dark edges of a gas station, where we'd broken down in our small car while traveling from places unknown to places unknown. Four men were also nearby, rummaging through some of their own things, as it seemed they had broken down as well. Suddenly, one of the four whirled around and pointed a gun at us, and was quickly joined by one of his accomplices. They herded us over to their car, and I started to get a sinking feeling that they were about to take absolutely everything from us. S let out a sad sigh, and tossed over his wallet. The first gunman pulled out a piece of paper - S's license or identity document of some sort - and began slashing through it with a knife.

Then I woke up, crying.

Today I will go on a bike ride.

I had a dream last night/this morning about buying a piano. I miss playing the piano.

There was also a furniture segment, wherein my mother got rid of a lot of furniture and asked me if I wanted any, but I wasn' t interested in any of it.

Aren't dreams fun?