"daughter of the dragon king"

I had this dream a few nights ago. This is a highly simplified version of what I dreamt. It had more complicated undercurrents of emotions and harder to explain settings and situations, but I've made my best to transcribe it into words (which hardly does it justice, but whatever).

once there was a girl who appeared from nowhere. she claimed to be the daughter of the dragon king. the boy who found her did not believe her because she looked like any other girl. she lived some time with him in his village, until one day an assasin came for her. but he did not look like an assasin so he did not believe any of it was true. he looked like a messenger and had a giant cucumber the size of a man that flopped around on the top end. the girl was scared and told the boy, and the boy hid her but half-heartedly. he still didn't believe any of it. then in his head he heard a voice and saw a vision. he was surrounded by flames in a dark place, and he saw piercing eyes aimed at him. the voice said in a tone so low he almost doubted it was a voice at all that spoke, but it said "you could not even save my daughter?" not a moment after this vision came did he see the girl encounter the assasin. and no sooner did the assasin's weapon touch her forehead, she vanished. no trace of her left. she was not even killed, she simply ceased to be. incredulous, he searched for her, but in vain. she was gone. it was only when the realization of what had happened, that it was all true and that he had lost her, did he regret and weep.

What happened to me?

Hi, anyone out there who still follows this (maybe),

I got lazy, that's what happened. Who does these things? I don't think I could be a serious blogger. I'm not even serious on facebook or twitter. I never even kept a journal seriously. Except my dream journal, but that's different because that doesn't happen in/on real time. I'll try and update more frequently(?) but I make no promises. Unless I dump this and make something else. Meh. We'll see.

Yours,
Said dreamer.

Sweet dreams!

Just a feeling

For some reason I woke up after only three hours of sleep (as in, right now. And I'm on my computer to tire myself into sleeping again). I think it was partly due to the inconsistent changes in body temperature. All I know is, I did dream, but it's just a feeling. I don't remember it at all yet. Watch me fall back asleep, come back at the end of the day having slowly gathered the memories of a dream I might have had....

"the fall"

I had this dream a few nights ago, but I forgot about it until I read a book that mentioned a bunch of concubines and ladies in waiting throwing themselves over a cliff to their deaths rather than survive and be tortured as prisoners of an opposing army.

there was a girl who was being chased. i don't remember much of the dream. all i know is that there was this one young man who was also after her. but she got to talking to him and he pitied her. he fell asleep guarding her (to return her later to wherever she had run away from) and she tried to use that as an opportunity to escape. she got as far as the room across the hallway, which was on the second storey. he followed. this room had a window that faced outside. what used to be an awning that stretched under the window had fallen away, so that only the post holding the awning  up remained, and a stretch of the awning (corrugated plastic) remained attached to the wall and the post, like a buttress. above what remained of the awning was a clothesline. she was looking outside the window, judging what her chances were of climbing onto the buttress-awning and going across the clothesline. but  before she could, she turned around to see the young man approaching her. he was saying something like, please, just come with me, if you turn yourself willingly...(you might be let off with a lighter punishment), but as she turned around, she backed into the wall, out of the window, and fell. she fell head first onto the cobble stone pavement below. splat. men in white suits rushed to where she landed, pool of blood where her head was, torso and legs as perfect as they were when animated. he looked down, horrified, as the men in white suits looked up. he could hear footsteps in the hallway/corridor behind him, trying to find which room it was.

the (bastard?) prince

This is a dream I had last night. Or, as much as I could make sense of it.

"the (bastard?) prince"

there was an invasion on a palace. a prince was being cared for by prostitutes who lived in the palace. there were two armies. one army was attacking from the outside. one was inside with us, trying to round us all in so that it would be easier to handle. i thought that they were going to kill us before the outside army got to us, so they could have bragging rights. i think that was what they were trying to do. they horded us so jealously that they were defensive, almost protective, but only because they didn't want the other army to get to us first. the outside army breached the palace. we were herded upwards, up stairs. we could see the outside army make their way across and up, from the opened floor (like those balconies that line the inside of a courtyard, except it was about four storeys up and i don't remember looking up to see a skylight*.) the outside army was inside. we were herded in a corner, away from the oepn skylight. we were huddled around a table (a pool table?). suddenly, rocks and small ammo were hailing on us from the skylight opening. we covered our heads with our arms, the inside army tried to shield us (were they on our side? i couldn't tell). after a while the firing ceased. the outside army had stopped. they all gathered themselves up, but noticed that the nurse and the prince were unconsious (the nurse pretended to be a prostitute too, but she was actually the prince's nurse). the other prostitutes, taking advantage of the situation, beat the nurse and the prince with whatever they had on hand: figurines, stands, broken chair legs. they had hated the nurse, who acted above them, and they didn't care for the prince. and since it would look like the outside army had killed them, they might as well take the opportunity to vent out their own frustrations (ie: why did they have to suffer for some prince? why did they become their cover up? where was their reward with a dead prince?). so they beat them. the inside army stood and watched (they could do nothing anymore, they were dead. there was no point). after the women tired, the nurse was truly dead. as one bent over the prince to see he was truly dead, but a raspy breath escaped his lips, and his eyes pried open (stark white with small black iris, in contrast to his blood stained face and shredded clothes). the woman jumped back. *blip* the coup had failed. neither army won. the prince lived. his father lived (though he lost his legs below the knee). the father couldn't rule anymore, so the prince was to take over. they were outside on a snowy/icy plain (it looked like they were standing on an ice rink, the palace in the distance behind them on a slope, the sun in front of them, their army in ranks on either side of a carriage, also white, that the son and father were walking--could the king walk?--towards).

*Maybe I'll draw what I meant about that skylight/open floors. Think malls, how you are on one of the upper floors, but you can look down the balcony to the floor below, except in my dream it was bout four, maybe five storeys.

"giant peach"

we were a large family looking for a home. a mobile home found us. it came to us, like the giant peach in james and the giant peach, or like howl's moving castle. a large large moving building that walked up to us. we tested the front step. it seemed to hold. so we went in and occupied the otherwise unoccupied house. there were about a dozen children, many of them twins, triplets, quartets, and such, there was the mother and the aunt, me and i think i had a brother (we were the eldest), and the master of the house (unrelated by blood). at first, it seemed like we would all get along brilliantly, we had just bought a few dozen sets of some beautiful china that fit all occaisions and all types of meals. we would set out the china for meals and for tea. but as the days went by we realized a problem. because we had so many plates and such to set out, it took quite a while before the meal or tea was ready to be had, and when there were enough placings for us to begin to serve, it would very quickly be time to gather up the plates and begin to wash them to make it in time for the next meal., besides the time it tookcooking and preparing, that often only a handful of the children had been served and none of the adults. the curious part of the house was that most of it was stairs and landings, no floors except the ground floor, which meant that if anything were to drop, particularly any china, it would be most certainly doomed to breaking since it would fall all the way to the first floor. at one point after having set the tea sets but only serving no more than 4 places and having a sip myself i had to gather things again to prepare for the next meal, but the number of plates i was carrying and the sense of being rushed made me clumsy and i dropped a handful onto the floor. none was spared that dropped, unlike i had hoped, and the mother was angry at me, protesting how now she had to go back and buy another set, etc etc. i said that she could have the remaining 1pound that i had on me from the 10 that the master had given me a while back. he still owed me 20pounds (this part comes from watching jane eyre a while ago) and that if she really needed the money i would give her all i could, since the master still owed me and i could withdraw from my dowry (because he promised to marry me). the other servants were constantly plotting with the mother to find fault in me and convince the master to not marry me. such as, after the incident, i went upstairs to my room and in my rage i violently removed the bed covers, which i was supposed to do anyways, and what did it really matter since it all would eventually belong to me and it would be my home once i married the master? i threw the sheets to the floor along with the cushions and something round and glass, probably a glass vase, broke in the flurry. i calmed down then and started to separate the shards like slivers like cresent moons from the cloth. i think i had a dog with me. a servant must have heard the crash and came shouting up the stairs. the master was outside my door watching me try to untangle shard from cloth. the servant bowed to the master as she passed, all the while saying something like, oh this girl, always breaking things always making a fuss and a mess master you shouldn't marry such a girl such a troublesome person etc etc. she came into my room, regarded the mess, and opened a window, and tried to tear the things from my hands, but i refused, i could clean up myself, and i said not a word.

"shadow fight"

i was invited by my boyfriend who was a dancer in a ballet company. i watched them perform/practice every night and got an invitation with a ticket in an envelope one for each night of the run of the production. i watched them practice and they moved so beautifully, i could watch for hours even though it was all the same each time and i would watch it over and over again. there was one particular scene that my boyfriend described to me that was ingenius. two male dancers would dance in a way that looked like they were fighting, but rather than actually make physical contact/attack each other physically, it was only their shadows that were supposed to be followed/ seen by the audience, for their shadows would fight one another and the two men would stand a little off from one another and appear like two independant dancers, but were actually engaged in a specific dance with each other. in any case, i asked the director/coordinator/coreographer how he intended to direct that scene, where the light was going to be placed for the best effect, discussing how the two dancers behind a screen with a light directed towards the audience so their shadows appeared on the screen would not be the best becuase the dancers' shadows would not be as sharply defined as it would be if the light was directed away from the audience so that the dancers and the shadows on the wall would be more visible to the audience [reading this now, I don't see the logic in my suggestion]. at one point in every night/practice/performance, the dancers did this little traditional kind of huddle with a handful of other dancers, those closest to them at the time, so that a number of huddles appeared on stage/behind stage, and they did it for warmth and to gather up their courage? or some other thing before practicing/performing. during this time, it was not uncommon for a couple, for a male dancer or two to steal away with their girlfriends behind curtains for a quickie. my boyfriend did that at one point. we were behind curtains, another couple was on the floor near us, she beneath him. my boyfriend had me against the back wall (legs around waist) of a prop with the curtain separating us from the prop and from the audience's view. meanwhile, there was a huddle nearby, within sight but no one would have stopped us other than the director and stage managers and such (because their cue was coming up and they had to go onstage or something). in the window above and near us as we were making love, in the cream brick wall, i could see it was raining hard. there was a warning for a storm that night. i don't recall ever leaving the building where the performance was being held, i was always near at hand for the dancers and the director.

"karaoke and call boys"

Second transcribed dream. Shorter this time. The "*blip*" will sometimes mean a gap in the dream that passed like one second to the next, or a gap in my memory of it. In this case, it's the former.

"karaoke and call boys"

my real-life friend had rented out a karaoke place and she set me up in the room, really shady. she had to go somewhere so i was left behind and the matron and patron of the place were getting suspicious of me so i called my friend to make sure she was on the way and she said she was coming. in the meantime, to try and get as much money out of me, the matron send in 3 call boys to try to sleep with me for money. i said no to all of them because none of them really seemed like they really wanted to (they seemed so indifferent, apathetic) and i hadn't shaved in a while so i was embarrassed. i looked out the window into the courtyard and there were dozens of call boys practicing/role playing in preparation for their customers. i asked the boys if they knew all the ones down there they said yes. 

*blip*

when we returned, like i had guessed, the matron and patron and the rooms were emptied of things that were easy to carry (they had gone bankrupt and had disappeared) and left it behind as an empty apartment for us with some things in it that we could use. the only problem was that they took some of our things to pawn, nothing that couldn't be replaced again, luckily.

first post of a transcribed dream, "the museum"

This is the first of many transcribed dreams. It's not a recent one. Below is an editted version of the original to try to make more sense of it to those reading it, but even I don't know 100% what I meant when I first wrote it, so some parts of it will just be hard to imagine. Anyways, enjoy!

"the museum"

inside a GIANT dome. massive. a rotunda? a sphere? (but there is flat ground, we're standing on it) the inner walls are filled with little drawers the size of matchboxes. In the center is a statue, but it's concealed within a globe that shifts and moves and is brown (floating? above a pool of black liquid that reflects like a black mirror). the statue is metal. there are miniature figures. miniature people. a little bigger than the matchbox drawers, big enough to stand on them. they all look up from the ground level (i'm looking up with them). at the very center at the top of the dome is a window (more like a round opening. inside the dome is so so dark, we all look like shadows). it shows the changing sun as it rises and sets, quickly. its movements look like flipping back and forth between one page in a book, flipped over and back. we all look up. that window is our escape. some have already started to draw out the drawers and climb up, making spiral staircases. we're all afraid of falling, it's so high up. we climb. looking down you see many small people climbing. we're barely clothed. we're like the first peoples of the earth, without language, without culture. two reach the top first. there's a ledge under the window. the second one hesitates and waits on the ledge, watching the first as he draws the nearest drawer under the window of the sun. as he reaches out for it and tries to open it, the second looks around him, and sees that the ledge he stands on is actually a window that encircles the topmost part of the dome (it's more like the very tip of the dome was sliced off, and then propped up over the opening, kind of like if you have a fire or bellows indoors, you need the smoke to escape from the highest part, but you don't want rain to get in if it rains, so there's an opening, but it's also covered. the ledge is the edge of the opening), and no one else realizes because from the bottom you can't see it, and at the top the other is only worried about the "window" at the peak of the dome. the second realizes that the ledge he stands on is the ledge that is in a circle (the edge of the opening, the gap between the dome and the cover of the opening), and behind him, is the setting sun. that sun is the sun that had been reflected, somehow, maybe on the ledge itself, maybe it is reflective, and the sun on the "window" at the peak is actually a reflection of the sun on the window ledge showing on a mirror (on the flat surface of the part that covers the opening), and that a caterpiller is flipping the pages back and forth, creating duplicates. so the second decides that this is how he will get out (by going through the gap), forget about the "window" at the peak. he tries to get out though the gap, but it is a dome, and the moment he steps off the ledge he slides down and is lost. the first is more cautious. once he realizes that the "window" is actually a mirror and the real opening is what the second had disappeared through, he takes the caterpiller and goes to the ledge (the caterpiller will help to repopulate the earth, it will create duplicates of the people and help them repopulate the earth, since they don't know how to themselves yet and since the caterpiller can make doubles of people, double men and women (or a double for a woman would be a man and for a man a woman, or something of that sort); outside the window, outside the dome, is nothing but dunes of sand and the sun and sky). leading the rest of the little people, he cautions them from sliding down, and somehow they get out.

This is a crappy rough sketch (not at all proportionate to the size of the thing in the dream) of what I meant by the "window" at the top of the dome. Imagine the dome 100x bigger, and the opening reeeeeeally small, and no visible supports as I drew in the image.

drawn on HTC with SketchBook Mobile Express and a cheap-ass stylus from Chapters. I'll do quick drawings on my phone until I muster up the will to spend time actually drawing something by hand and scanning and uploading it (unless I've already got a drawn rendition of it somewhere on paper that just needs to be scaned)

hello, world. welcome to my dreams

First post. What to write. Do I make you dive right into a dream, or should I give you context?

I think context is good.

I'll start posting my dreams soon. I need to translate them a bit so that they're understandable outside my mind's references to a complete stranger.

And I only say that this blog may have adult content because some of my dreams are not pretty. I'm going to try to be as unfiltered as possible, which means some pretty weird, WEIRD, stuff.

Well. Hope y'all enjoy yourselves, now.

(PS: typically, I don't capitalize when I type. But after years of school, and I've just recently handed in the last paper for my summer course, I've gotten a bit too used to writing "properly". I guess I'll just make the distinction that "properly" written text is my fully conscious, awake self. The rest, written without capitals and whatnot, will be dreamstuff)