I dream that there’s a baby crawling at my feet. He’s blonde, he’s wearing a blue shirt and a big diaper. I want to take him in my arms but whenever I try he cries. I’m limping. Laura Bailey is on TV hosting an award show.
Author: Decade Dream Journal
Supermarket, Stairs, Stairs, Stairs, Cyborg
I dream that I’m once again frustrated about all the supermarkets in my area being the same kind. I go inside one, eat a bun, feel guilty, confess and pay for it.
I go home and say hello to my sister that is coming down the stairs. Except that my sister is also inside, sitting on the couch. Who was that I saw on the stairs?
I go to the mall, there is a giant dead person set up like a statue, you can climb up some stairs to a pair of binoculars on the back of their head and see through their eyes.
Now my family is running down a set of stairs, my gran is on the lead; we’re escaping from a supervillain. We reach the basement and it’s not empty like we hoped, but elegantly furnished. Gran pushes open the door to a bedroom and an alarm blares.
The supervillain catches me. He’s a shape-shifting cyborg. A group of heroes flies in to fight him, they are about to finish him.
I wake up, thinking it’s very unfair I didn’t get to watch him die.
When You Wake Up Suddenly And It’s Like You Were Just There
I dream that the whole family is at a beach village, one of those Greek sea places with white houses and blue roofs. The sun is shining and it’s clearly summer, still groups of children are coming down stairs and alleys singing a Christmas song, I know it’s Greek because I recognize the world “aletheia”. Another group is singing in… Hebrew? That can’t be right, they don’t celebrate Christmas. Maybe they’re Copts.
As more and more relatives arrive I yearn to go back home and avoid them all, I beg my dad to drive me and he refuses. I walk instead, looking behind my back to see if he changed his mind. I fall asleep on a bench and when I wake up Dad has brought me home on his bicycle.
I want to take a shower but there’s a tray of burned cheese burgers in the bathroom, the smell is foul. My mom sits next to me on my bed and puts some sort of rust colored lotion on my face. Meanwhile, my brother is telling me that Dad is gonna take down our shower panels, that upsets me so much I throw a little, pathetic tantrum.
We sit around the table to eat dinner, both my grandmothers are here. My late grandma G. is slouching back on her chair, she looks like she has no bones and is about to plop on the floor any minute, like she’s made of jelly. I’m explaining to the both of them what 3D glasses are, isn’t it marvelous, I say, how everyone can now see holograms? They don’t really understand the concept. I say, imagine a big red billboard with the name of your favorite supermarket. With my glasses I also can see… I fish around for an actress they would recognize,
I can also see Sofia Loren projected on the billboard, waving at me.
After dinner, my brother attempts to hack into my phone to see if I ever visited a certain city. He’s not gonna find anything, I say confidently. He finds a panoramic photo that looks more like a painting. It’s from my point of view, it looks like I’m sitting in a shabby room. He changes the prospective and we gasp: on my lap there’s a dirty rat with a syringe stuck in its neck. It’s a terrifying close up.
Next I go to the store because it’s my old coworker S.’s birthday and we are planning a surprise party. I buy birthday cards and balloons from him, he doesn’t suspect a thing. I really need to pee though, and I’ll have to hold it because it’s not hygienic to use a public bathroom, Coronavirus and all. I can’t remember my credit card pin, I look it up on my phone, it’s the old Motorola my mom owned in 1997. It’s broken and I can’t seem to fix it and I really need to run home and pee. S. tries to fix it as well, he hands back something that is not my phone, I really don’t care, I grab it and…
I wake up and run to the bathroom.
In Lockdown, Nothing To Do, No Alarm
(You need the shock of your alarm ringing, otherwise you wake up slowly and peacefully and by then the dreams are gone.)
My Brain Is An Utterly Creepy Pervert But Produces Rather Good Cinematography
I dream that I have the power to make trees and plants grow. Then I dream that I can’t figure out if it’s 2020 or 2021, are my calendars new or old? This year seems quite tragic so maybe it is 2020 after all. My friends are equally confused, I tell them we should maybe check the date on our phones, that very idea blows their minds.
Now I’m going with my mom to a doctor appointment, I realize I’m wearing my pajamas and that can mean only one thing: I must be dreaming, I would never go out in pajamas IRL. Since I now know I’m dreaming, I’m free to go have sex with people. I take off a young woman’s pants, she’s stiff and obedient like a doll.
I end up in a store where I try some clothes on, they’re too small. The owner has a beard and speaks English with a Swedish accent. We agree on how much we hate teenagers. A movie is being projected in the store, it’s about Marie Antoniette, there are orgies and necrophilia and more orgies and vomiting, all very detailed and seen from below. A decapitated head falls down, its cheek squishes against the camera glass. All the while the audience is making disgusted little sounds.
Why Cats Though
I dream that my mom is watching a girl being interviewed on TV. The girl says she was in a production of Cats, some of the other guests and the crew say they also were in Cats! They all get together and dance on stage, in perfect sync with each other. My mother switch channels, I was so invested I go look up that interview online.
Today Is A Bad Day
I dream that my family is fighting, everybody needs to use the bathroom, everybody is unhappy, I’m unhappy.
I Wasn’t Anywhere Near This, Not Even Watching From A Screen
I dream about a young man, a butler maybe, who has just murdered the old lord he works for. He leaves the manor with no rush, it’s a Saturday and he knows the gardener won’t be back to discover the body until Monday. He goes home and carefully plans his escape along with his girlfriend. On Monday morning, they drive away in the fog. A young detective arrives too late and find their house empty. He wears thick glasses and his face is calm, emotionless.
Years pass. The murdered and his girl are now married, they’re currently on a tour bus. Around them, people are singing church songs and clapping to the music. A car flanks the bus, it’s the detective, now with a balding head and a mustache. Police swarm the bus, they arrest the murderer, drag him away. As the other passengers protest, the detective looks up at them from the car window, and very calmly states,
Don’t worry about it. He shot a man in the head.
Nobody seems to notice the wife, nobody arrests her. She goes on to live her life and raise her kids, scot-free.
Oh No
(I don’t remember the details but the first dream was about getting Covid, I suddenly woke up coughing with a sore throat and panicked for a solid minute, then fell back asleep.)
Then I dream that a creepy uncle is watching me. He’s sitting on the couch across from me with a sleazy smile. I try to escape and he is still following me on the streets. I get to a Sunday school, pretend to be a child and hide inside, I sit on one of the little desks. He’s still there, next to the chalkboard, watching me.
Unemployment Sucks
I dream that I’m counting money and I’m so bad at it, all the numbers get confused, I end up having to ask my brother’s help.
Then I dream that my cousin calls me back to the store to help out. We’re no longer a phone store though, now we patch up clothes, and I help a young couple with their toddler’s yellow shirt. My cousin offers me to stay, but I’ll have to work for free. I say no, and I’m so proud of standing up for myself. The young couple say they have a job for me too:
You see, we like to go to the bar at night and read poetry with our friends, we drink beer…
They talk and talk and I have no idea what the job is. My cousin later explains they needed someone to collect their darts from the board when they play at the bar.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 