Dream, night of July 5

I worked at a very high class business and lived in the same skyscraper. One night when I returned to my loft, there were people waiting for me that I did not recognize. They had a strange aura about them, but it wasn't until they showed me something that I realized they were not of our world.

The next scene that I remember is standing on a beach just outside of the city, looking back at the skyline. There, floating above the city, were the aliens' spaceships: titanic hovering boxes of varying sizes. Some were long and narrow, others wide and tall. In all they gave the impression of a surreal cloudscape.

When I turned back to the beach, I saw one of the alien craft had landed in the sand. Rather than the smooth sides that I expected, the surface was covered by numerous small doors. Overcome by curiosity I began to open the doors and saw that each door opened on a deep, narrow compartment set into the cube. The depth of each chamber should have caused them to overlap and intersect, but the alien physics were such that they seemed to ignore this rule of physical space.

A crowd gathered and some began to explore the cube as well. No one could understand the purpose of the cube or the chambers built into it. The mystery grew as reports came in from around the world that other, similar, cubes had appeared.

Near me a man exclaimed excitedly that he had determined the purpose of the chambers and the cube. Each chamber was meant as a storage locker. The bottom of the locker was a sliding platform. I was struck by the similarity to the body lockers found in morgues.

The world descended into tumultuous debate. Many people wanted to cooperate with the unspoken alien demands: to volunteer themselves for storage in these cubes. Others wanted to carefully select the sample of humanity that would enter the cube. Still others weren't convinced that the lockers were meant for living inhabitants, that instead inanimate artifacts of humanity should be included or substituted.

In the end I remember either volunteering or being selected. But I don't remember if I went into one of the chambers or what happened thereafter.

He!

The other night I had a very powerful, enjoyable, and distinctly Lovecraftian dream.

I was driving with my girlfriend, brother, and cousin, around an underground parking ramp looking for a spot. Up ahead I saw a sign which simply read "He!" with an arrow pointing into a dark alcove.

I knew exactly what "He!" meant. It was for Hastur. He who shall not be named. I knew it was an art show featured works by artists influenced, inspired, and affected by The King in Yellow.

I turned and parked and led our group into that dimly lit alcove to a glass door beyond which the gallery stood waiting. Inside it was simply a long hallway that bent at right angles, winding around like a maze. Every inch of every wall was covered with fancifully framed fantastic paintings with images of the Tattered King, the city of Carcossa, the Lake of Hali, Aldebarran, Taurus, the Hyades.

It was thrilling, exciting, amazing. I was ecstatic. My companions were less that pleased. My girlfriend seemed impatient, my brother was bored, and my cousin gibbered madly in a corner.

That was about when I woke up.

Great Morning

First: Last night's dream

I don't remember much, except that I was on an archaeological expedition in Egypt when I suddenly found myself hiding in a very narrow cave. It was quite wide, but so short that I had to lay flat on my stomach. Hiding in the cave with me was an older man and his daughter who was blind. I started talking to the girl in French, Hebrew, Arabic, Spanish, and German. In real life I'd only be able to hold a decent conversation in French, use minimal halting Hebrew, and say "hello" in any of the other languages. Somehow in this dream I was fluent in all of them.

The next scene I can remember was the girl leading me into an underground complex as we fled from the Black Wind avatar of Nyarlathotep. We were fleeing underground in search of the Dark Mother (Shub Niggurath) to seek her aid in defeating Nyarlathotep and prevent the end of the world. The only other inhabitants of the cave were strange hulking monstrosities with huge mining drills as arms.

We found Shub Niggurath on a metal catwalk spanning a deep lava-filled chasm. She was an old wizened woman, stooped over, and looking very feeble. Yet when we intoned the proper prayer (I wish I could remember the words!) she grew to an immense height, filling the cavern with her presence. We felt, rather than saw, Nyarlathotep's avatar fleeing from the power of Shub Niggurath, racing for the exit of the cave. As the girl and I also fled, fearing a collapse of the cave, we sealed Nyarlathotep inside. The last image before I woke up was one of an invisible fist desperately clawing at the cave walls, only managing to strike twice before Shub Niggurath dispelled the evil.

Where did this dream come from? Most likely a combination of things. Nyarlathotep likely appeared because I've been listening to the Yog Radio podcast audio game of "Masks of Nyarlathotep." Shub Niggurath was probably conjured from my reading HPL's "The Whisperer in Darkness." The drill-bit monsters seemed remarkably similar to the "Big Daddys" in BioShock on the Xbox 360. But where did the girl come from? And my polyglot abilities? And the thematic good v. evil elements of the dream?

It was truly a great adventure of a dream, very exciting and enjoyable and it left me in a good mood when I awoke.

Then, this morning I found out that one of the captions I had submitted in the Pelgrane Press Caption Competition made it to the final four! So vote for #3 Here.

Terrible dreams, night of 5/19/2008

Maybe it was too much rootbeer at our tasting. Maybe it was a half-empty bed. Maybe I was nervous and excited for Kelcie's interview, too. Maybe there was a thunderstorm. In any case, last night's dreams made it nearly impossible to get any rest.

The first dream I remember began with me working at the University Book Store. I was watching myself from a third-person perspective as I went about my normal tasks. The scene faded out and was replaced with a view of the sky as thick black ominous clouds roiled and rolled over each other, plowing across the entire skyline. In that way that dreams have of offering more information than the senses can perceive, I knew that this was the end.

The skies roared and unleashed their fury on the land. Back inside the bookstore people were running around frantically as the water level began to rise. I remember seeing a basement store room afloat with boxes and debris, and seeing someone floating face down, unmoving.

When the storm finally passed, we began to gauge the damage. Everything was destroyed. To call it "devestation" would be putting it lightly. Then, as if watching from the lens of a television news camera, I saw myself talking to Duane. Instead of being the manager of the bookstore, he was my supervisor at some sort of mechanical shop. He kept smiling, but his eyes were full of tears. He said that instead of trying to rebuild this business, he would give it up for lost and start a new business in a new trade in a new town. I don't know why, but there was something in that scene that suggested everyone was adopting this policy. And it made me feel incredibly sad and indefinably disappointed; everyone was giving up, discarding their old life in the meek hope that there would be something better. Or something at all.

I spent an hour awake after that dream confused, upset, and oddly terrified.

The second disturbing dream of the night is now almost humorous to me. I don't remember the entire dream, only one scene. In it my vision was filled with an impenetrable blackness and the face of Adele [one of our good friends]. But this image was twisted and distorted, shrouded in red, consumed with evil. Were there horns on her head or am I "remembering" that into the dream? One thing I am sure of was the overwhelming sense of menace and terror in that scene. But now that I think back on it, I almost laugh. After all, Adele as the face of evil? That's ridiculous.

Dream, night of 3/31/2008

The Dream:
I don't remember a lot about this dream except that it was of the extra-confusing sort. The kind in which I went through a number of levels of sleep, dreaming, and wakefulness all while still physically asleep. I shall try to give some of the flashes that I remember.

At some point in my dream I was surrounded by strange faces speaking a language I could not understand. Later I was standing with several other children - we were all teens - talking about something frightful in hushed voices. It seems that all of us were cursed with nocturnal unconscious teleportation. I wish I could remember the term they used, for it conveyed a mystical and saintly ability. It was then that the faces and odd languages made sense. In my sleep I had teleported to somewhere in Russia and was greeted and believed to be a saint.

When I looked around next, the children were all gone, and I was standing in the entryway of a great cyclopean building of stone construction. I got the distinct impression that it was a sort of temple long since passed into disuse. Around me were my family, my paternal grandparents, and my girlfriend. We all boarded a large pontoon boat and sailed out onto a vast black lake.

Reflections:
I don't know what could have triggered this dream or where these images came from. Looking back at dreams for meaning is rather chancy, since there is a tendency to reverse impose images, thoughts, and concepts that weren't there initially.

For example: when I think back on the temple now, I think of an image in the Trail of Cthulhu RPG. However, I know that's not what the temple in my dream really looked like. I know that something happened on the pontoon boat that involved my grandfather, but I don't remember it, and when I try to recall it I get the distinct impression I'm imagining something that wasn't there to begin with.

Scary Dream, Night of 3/13/08

I don't remember the details, just the overall feeling.

I know it began with Kelcie and I walking down a forest road. As we came to an intersection I was almost knocked over by a passing biker. Enraged, I yelled after him, shaking my fist. Kelcie looked at me, worry written on her face.

"What?"

"Who are you yelling at?"

"That biker. He almost knocked me over!"

"Sam, there's no one there."

Of course when I looked, she was right. There hadn't been any biker.

This theme repeated itself again and again. I would get almost violently angry with someone, almost coming to blows, and Kelcie, increasingly disturbed by my actions, would show me that there was no one there.

I remember at one point trying to convince her, or perhaps it was some sort of official (a policeman perhaps?) that I wasn't just seeing things, that these people were there. I remember arguing with them, desperately trying to show them I was right, I was sane. Of course, that's when I realized the official wasn't really there. Neither was Kelcie. I was all alone. With hundreds of people around me who weren't really there either.

Dream, evening of 10/16/2007

I was riding the bus home from work. I only fell asleep for a few minutes at most, but I had a very vivid and intense dream.

I dreamt that I was standing in a hallway eating a small circular graham cracker with some sort of mallow-like fluff on top of it. Three people approached me from the opposite end of the hall. Something in the way they were dressed and carried themselves made me know them as angels. As they drew nearer, I remember one of them standing only a few feet in front of me and smiling gently.

It was then that I noticed I was standing on a circular wooden platform. I clearly recall thinking that it was very similar in color and shape to the crackers I had just been eating. Slowly the platform lifted into the air, and I knew it was by the angels' doing. They were lifting me to heaven! I was filled with an ecstatic panicking terror so intense that it woke me from the dream with a start.

I often wonder if the other passengers on the bus notice when, after briefly nodding off, my body convulses in a quick spasm as I wake up. The sudden jerk feels so violent and intense to me, and yet I have had people say they did not see it, even when I feel as if I've leapt up out of my seat.