Dream Journal 1

Sometimes I remember my dreams with an alarming amount of clarity. It certainly helps to write about them right after they happen. I've been told that I should share them, cause they can be entertaining. Anyway, hope you enjoy some of the weird things that go on in my head at night!

I'm escaping a village in a marshy, wooded area. There are other people my age and some families who are also escaping. We're running towards the river where there are long rafts waiting for us. A person I know offers help getting across the mucky ground that's pocked with wide puddles. I smile and deny his help, moving like a ballerina with long legs. We clamber on the long log rafts. The crowding is so intense that a mother gets separated from her daughter, who looks to be about 9-years-old. Her left eyelid is malformed along with her left hand. The mother struggles to get to her daughter but can't fight through the crowd. The girl is crying but the mom yells that they'll find each other at river's end. The rafts speed down the rushing river. It's night and I keep worrying that we'll tip over.

We get to a city. The buildings are tall and spread apart, like downtown LA, only the exteriors are sandstone and Art Nouveau style. We're floating down the asphalt streets, still on our wooden rafts. I don't know why, but people start climbing out. A coworker of mine and my boyfriend get off. I follow suit.

We're running. I don't know why. We get to a Park Slope looking area and run into a sand colored brownstone that's also a NYSC, but the interior is like a run down motel. We go into a room filled with beds of all sizes. There's a queen, twin, even a daybed. The sheets and pillows are all gritty and mismatched. My boyfriend is suddenly a personal trainer and starts training my coworker. I shrug and go over to an elliptical, which somehow is in the same room as all the beds.

Then my coworker and boyfriend take me to the building's "yoga studio." We pass by really high tech looking washing machines. There's a woman furtively doing laundry and looking at me suspiciously, as if to say these machines are not for you. We get to the "studio." It's also rundown. My coworker says we need to get heavy sand for bombs, that the yoga blocks need to be ground down. She points to a giant pair of dumbbells and says these are the ones The Hulk uses. (In the dream, I take it so seriously, but now I'm laughing about how ridiculous my dreams can be.)

Next thing I know, we're in the desert. Some of the people from my raft are there. Their hair is matted and forming dreads, their skin is lightly dusted with dirt, and they're wearing a hodgepodge of leather and cloth scraps all stitched together. One of them is the mom who got separated from her daughter. She looks stunned. I see who she's staring at. It's her daughter as a young woman. She's with a bunch of other people. They look similar to the mother's group, but their skin tone is a muddy blue and their muscles bulge in random places. The mother reaches out to her daughter. She touches her daughter's temple. The daughter holds her mothers hand. I see that one of the daughter's fingers is bigger than the others and there's a long, thick yellow nail shaped like a hook.

There's a scream. We all look to the distance and see a flock of beige T-Rex running toward us and roaring. We start running. All of a sudden, I'm looking at everything from a birds-eye-view. I see red and blue people (a metaphor for Republicans and Democrats?) scurrying across the desert terrain like beetles. Then there's a crimson and mustard colored T-Rex holding a bow and arrow. He's fighting the beige T-Rex with exploding arrows. He's the human's protector I guess?

There's another scene I remember, I just don't know when it happened in the sequence of visions:

I'm a pterodactyl-human (I know, awesome, right?), but I'm wearing some kind of cape that helps me fly better? I land on a rooftop where there's a party being held in my honor. Everyone is in black tie formal dress. A guy in a tux hands me this large, off-white plastic tag. Supposedly it controls my cape? Then a guy who looks like Elijah Wood tries to steal it. He's wearing a suit with a burgundy sweater vest. I chase after him. We fight over the tag and drop it down the balcony. I don't want to risk jumping down, because I don't think I can fly without the tag thing that controls my cape. He says he's willing to jump to the lower balcony and then down the the ground level where the tag is. I start crying and say, "Aren't you afraid of dying?" He says it's worth it to fly. He jumps, ricochets off the side of the lower balcony, and falls to the ground with a loud crack. I'm crying even harder now, but also know I have to try to get the tag. I say I can't do it. Someone (don't know who) says that I have to try. I pull my wings tight and jump. Don't remember if I landed safely or not.