Hello All, Today I'm going to record two dreams, but will post the newest dream first, so I don't forget any detail. I just woke up and had the dream about 15-20 minutes ago.
In the dream, I was moving out of a rental house where I shared a room upstairs with one of my house mates. I remember my bed had mustard yellow sheets. I moved out of this house into an apartment of my own. A friend asked me about my old house, but I had already almost forgot about it. I think it disturbed me that the place I just lived in should leave my memory so quickly. I guess it was a fear of separation from the past.
I left my apartment on foot, and went to find my sister. She lived in a town house, and the sun was setting. I knocked on her door, but no one answered. I had a small CD player with me, so I lay it on her doorstep and listened to "No Quarter" by Led Zeppelin. She was home after all and just wasn't answering the door. She only answered the door because the particular song irritated her. She ended up talking to me for a little bit anyway. It was still dusk when I left her apartment. I walked between the townhouses and through yards of apartments, and came out to a street that led to a sea-side carnival closed for the season. The wood of the stands was dried out and splintering from the salt in the air.
I came by one closed stand that had a wooden Christmas scene (the size of a moderate stage) laying on its back. I traced my fingers along a statue of a toy soldier. I continued walking and came to a mental hospital I had stayed at perhaps when I was a teenager in the dream. I decided to go in because they still had some of my personal effects I never collected, but when I went in they wouldn't let me go. I took it upon myself to just leave. I recognized the road which left the hospital and began to follow it to my apartment, but it started raining so hard that I couldn't move very fast, and before I knew it guards from the hospital tracked me down with scent dogs.
I was returned to the mental hospital, but a journalist came and walked me out, and we snuck to the side of the building. A guard confronted us, but the journalist began to argue with him. As they were arguing, a disgruntled employee from the hospital came around the side of the building and dropped a pile of files and letters on the ground and left. I went to the pile and found files providing proof of criminal malpractice in the mental hospital. I also found a manila envelope filled with my belongings from when I stayed there as a teenager, and the letters were ones I never received from various friends.
I found two Dexedrine pills among my personal effects, and thought "good, now I can get something done." A lot of the letters were from a girl named Audrey Pratt, who in real life was my best friend from the ages of 12-17 (this is why I presume I was in the mental hospital as a teenager). She sent me pictures of herself and little pieces of artwork. The journalist scared off the guard, picked up the files, and we left. She dropped me off at my parents' home, and my parents told me the mental hospital could call me back any time they wanted to, and I asked them if there was anything they could do, but they didn't answer. We got in the car (a white station wagon) and began to drive somewhere. I kept on asking if there was anything they could do, but they wouldn't answer.
We then turned into a different family, I was some teenage kid (and no, not even me when I was a teenager) with short light brown hair, and my parents were in their 30s and kind of looked like white-trash. As this kid, I was still asking them if there was anything they could do about the mental hospital having a permanent hold on me. The car broke down, and we all got out of the car. My parents started talking about if there was anything they could do, and I was glad they were finally thinking about it, but I soon realized they were talking about the car, not me.
I kept asking, but they weren't paying attention to me, and I began to feel faint and lay down on the ground next to the car. I then switched to the point of view of a woman walking down a snowy path (it was Trinity road as a gravel foot path). I remember her thinking, "I can see castles in the snow on the path, I can see castles in the falling snow, I can see castles in the snow that's blown by the wind, I can see castles in the clouds." Then I woke up.
I remember a short dream from the night before last. I was in Connecticut again, and playing in the undergrowth of a forest. I found various herbs and was excited about it. I was looking for a holly plant and finally found it, but it was missing leaves and sickly looking. I then heard a voice come out from the sky saying, "Marc, you're always disappointed by what you find." I left the forest and walked down the driveway of a small farm to the road, and the neighbor from across the street told me I could swim in his pool if I liked. I did and was happy because I love swimming.
Thank you for reading,
Marc
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