I was in the cab of a locomotive. I looked out the front window at the tracks, and saw that they were crooked. Then suddenly I was outside the engine looking at the wheels, and saw that the inner flange on the wheels was also missing, and that there was nothing keeping the train on the zigzagging tracks.
Then I was inside the engine again, I turned around to look for the engineer, to try and stop the train before we derailed, and saw that the back of the cab opened into a gigantic ballroom, where a large formal party was happening.
The engineer was talking with a circle of people near me, with a drink in his hand and they were all laughing and enjoying themselves. When I tried to get his attention to tell him about the problems with the tracks and the wheels my friend Lisanne, who was one of the party guests, told me that I worry too much and shouldn't bother him while he was enjoying himself.
Then I looked back out the front window and saw we were approaching a bridge over a deep gorge. As the train began to cross the bridge the right rail veered sharply off to the right and the left rail veered sharply off to the left, and the train just plunged straight down through the empty space between them and into the gorge.
The train fell and landed in deep mud, buried almost up to the roof, and the passangers / party guests began to crawl out of the upper windows out into the deep mud. Although the train was nearly buried somehow we found solid ground to walk on below the surface of the mud, and we began walking forward through mud up to our chests. There was also thick fog preventing us from seeing our way.
After walking a short distance my foot hit on something hard in the mud, and suddenly I was standing on the front step to my grandparent's house. I went inside and found it almost deserted, except in the living room were some dead astronauts sitting in the easy chairs. They had been dead a long time, and were basically just skeletons in space suits. Somehow I knew that they had died of old age, having been trapped in this house for their entire lives.
Then as I looked around the house I found very many small robots, about the size of marbles, which you could hold in your hand, which had been the astronaut's helpers. There were two types, white ones and black ones. The white ones had always faithfully helped the astronauts, but somehow I knew that while the black ones, who also appeared to help the astronauts and cooperate with the white robots, were secretly sabotaging everyting. This is why the astronauts could never escape from the house.
This was the end of the dream.
Unfortunately the web page analysis just lists a bunch of standard interpretations for various keywords found in the text. Oh well.
I plugged in my street luge cultish and
giant snake dreams. I agree that the link is pretty disappointing; maybe they could have spent another ten minutes on the implementation to come up with something less sucky.
Your Dream: wife pissing in bin
Words like wife: Partner. Commitment. Eternity.
I showed up for my first guitar lesson and was pleasantly surprised to discover that Paul McCartney was going to be my instructor! He was late to arrive and was then apologetic that he had decided not to teach anymore and that I would have to find another teacher. I began yelling at him and saying something along the lines of "you think you're so fucking awesome but you aren't shit without the rest of the Beatles and the Beatles suck too!! asshole!!"
We were suddenly in my (or someone's) house and I was watching him walk down to the car waiting for him. Linda McCartney opened the back door for him and as he got in I saw that he was crying.
stupid Beatles.
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Analysis complete!
The interpretation of your dream is:
u r teh gay.
The white ones had always faithfully helped the astronauts, but somehow I knew that while the black ones, who also appeared to help the astronauts and cooperate with the white robots, were secretly sabotaging everything.
Maybe Kramer had the same dream.
I woke up too early this morning and went back to sleep when I should have just stayed awake. I dreamed I was on a sandy beach and I started to say something, but a hair was tickling the back of my throat. I opened my mouth to pull it out and masses of my hair started coming out like scarves from a magician's sleeve.
Then I dreamed I was in a house on a small hill and the cold water faucet broke off and water flowed through the house and down the steps onto the road, where a group of children was walking past.
I don't usually have such weird dreams so I assume it was because of going back to sleep. Now I'm groggy and sandy-eyed. Meh.
Your Dream: I hear a sound. It is repeated. And repeated. The sound is familiar and insistent. I've heard it before, many times. It repeats, repeats, rebeats, rebeets, rebeeps, ebeeps, beeps, beeps, beeps, beeps.
Words like times: Irreversible. Continuity. Arrival or departure of feelings. Organizing your inner self.
A couple of nights ago I dreamt I had to explain Monty Python's "Dead Parrot" sketch to Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi.
Sounds like you're a nerdy Republican hoping to score with some hot Democratic babes.
I had a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners sat down together at the table of brotherhood.
When I was a kid I had a dream I was riding in a semi with BJ and the Bear, and the truck overfloweth with da ladies.
Nothing gets the girls like Greg Evigan with a chimp.
I dream I am in an old-fashioned, highish class kind of hotel. All the doors of the rooms are open and the beds have had the sheets pulled back as though the rooms are all being made up. There's no-one there, but a strong feeling that someone was here just a moment ago. I go down balustraded stairs but it becomes clear the place is a maze and I cannot find the way out. As I descend, the architectural style becomes more modern: in some places the stairs descend through large hallways and I can see people very vaguely on floors below me which the staircase I am on do not connect with.
I walk along lots of floors and many stairs, but I can never reach the ground or the outside, or directly meet any people. This doesn't seem more than a tad worrying at any stage.
I tell that silly page my long dream about snakes falling down the roof, expecting some kinky Freudian interpretation, and all it has to give is some short rant about watching my back from 'friends'.
Like I didn't knew that already.
Your Dream: brill umphamings at gurpy gonad ghosty gurgles indent for a new paralapsis. Rind, leather, and repent.
Words like new: Change. Time. Ready for a new start.
I just woke up from a dream where I was at a conference and attending the worst panel ever - 'conflict resolution' but led by this uber-fundie Christian woman with big blonde hair. She kept saying stuff about 'the Jews' and I stood up and told her that I wasn't particularly down with the Abrahamic religions, but she needed to cut that out if she wanted to be taken seriously. She made the hand-talky motion and told me to stop using big words.
So I cussed her out - I used some other big words - and was dragged from the room.
I woke up wanting to punch someone.
I have lucid dreams. Often I ask the denizens of such dreamscapes to explain the 'meaning' of the symbology around us. They usually dismiss my enquiries with casual arrogance.
And when I ask them 'do you have objective existance outside my perception?' they scoff and say, 'Of course not!'
What would you do, faced with such a reaction?
Mug them.
In my dream the other night, there appeared a lovely Canadian man named Jamie with dark hair and dark eyes. He had a beautiful smile, and we had this really amazing conversation in the dream, during which it became clear that we were perfect for each other.
He seemed so real in the dream that I'm convinced he exists somewhere. Canadian monkeys, if you know this man, can you send him my way? Thanks.
Also, whenever there's a cat in my dream, I wake up happy. Don't know why, but it's a lovely feeling.
Yeah, I know Jaime, his igloo was just down the Iditarod from me. He's dead.
Jamie lives next door. With his partner, Henry.
I can second the lucid dreams as well Chy. Though, one of my last was too much for me to deal with in even the scope of dream land...
This was Thanksgiving. Dreamed my cat Beezwax fell in a fry vat. He kept following me around, purring, but I was afraid to look at him or touch him. He smelled just like KFC, and when I *did* get up the nerve to pet him, the crunchy coating on his fur broke and then he started screaming. I turned away, wiping my hand on my leg (the grease was hot, and burned me) and he followed me, purring again. I wanted to hold him, I knew he was dying and didn't know it yet and that touching him would make his skin come off like a piece of fried chicken. The KFC smell was making my stomach growl, and I hated myself for wanting to taste him, to break just a tiny piece of his coating off and nibble on it with my front teeth. I was panicing at the same time, wondering how I could put him out of his misery without making him scream more, without touching him. He didn't scream though, as long as I didn't look at him. He just purred.
When I woke up he was sitting on my pillow and I yelled and froze there until I got my bearings.
The odd part of this is that it stuck with me. So very vivid.
I much prefer the dream where we're snoozing in the garden on a sunny afternoon.
Its the feelings, dontcha know. All the horrible feelings rolled up into the same dream.
The KFC smell was making my stomach growl, and I hated myself for wanting to taste him, to break just a tiny piece of his coating off and nibble on it with my front teeth.
This is the way I would like to be eulogized.
one of my last was too much for me to deal with in even the scope of dream land...
I've had several very much like that, but just the 'normal', non-lucid versions. Usually at my roof or somewhere high overlooking the city, can see a massive, humongous wave or cloud fast approaching, filling the entire sky. It's obvious this is something that can't be survived. And my immediate thoughts, always, have been about my family & loved ones, all around the city: 'what now?'.
The other night I dreamed I met Darren McGavin (Kolchak, A Christmas Story). I was in his messy apartment, and he had this pathetic trophy on the wall. I pointed to it and said, "hey, you won a Major Award!"
I've always been jealous of people who have lucid dreams. After reading this thread, now I'm not so sure.
Once in a while I have a dream that challenges my perspective, I had one Saturday night. I would describe it but the potential for monkey heads assploding left and right is to great.
OK, so I'm scrambling around in some canyon. And I feel a head-sized rock hit me in the back of the head, and it takes it clean off. I black out.
I wake up in bed, alive, but with no head. I reach up, and the top of my neck feels like a scab. I don't realize I'm dreaming, and I'm trying to make sense of this. I can see, or rather, I know I have no eyes but I can somehow perceive the world around me. I'm interpreting it visually because that's what makes sense to me. If the brain can interpret nerve impulses from the eyes visually, then why not other kinds of signals, right? But, the brain's gone along with the eyes. I ponder some kind of spirit with senses independent of the body.
This train of thought is interrupted as various family and friends arrive. They're sympathetic, as if I've lost an arm or something else important but not exactly essential. I cannot speak to them. A sense of sadness and horror suddenly hits me but I cannot outwardly cry. I keep reaching up to feel my neck, feel the rough dry texture on my fingertips.
I felt horrified and disturbed all day. I was afraid to go to sleep the next night.
You dreamt Bush *is* the Second Coming, glama? It's OK, we can take it.
Last night my grandfather [who passed away in 1985] came to me in my dream state. He hasn't done that since 1990. He was having problems figuring out the new-style cable TV remote. I helped him out. I think he's OK now.
Last night I was a bear. I had never been a bear before. I still had my own personality, but I had a grizzly bear body. Someone asked me why I was being a bear, but I had no idea. Then a real bear came up and wanted to fight, and I figured I was in deep shit since I wasn't a real bear. We both stood on our back legs and bellowed at each other, and I decided I'd better try some Aikido, so when he swiped at me, I sidestepped, he fell forward off balance, and swatted him in the back of the head with my great big paw. He ran off, and I was amazed that my bear body could be so quick. Then I woke up. I was no longer a bear.
At least I didn't have to bite off my own shadow. That demands a single-mindedness that is almost unknown in this day.
Greg Evigan witha chimp.