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Dream Journal

Inside the Rock, Aboard Airship, On the Holodeck

In a volcanic hot springs zone, there is a hollowed-out rock that is special access handled by the Finnish Prime Minister. I’m inside on what I realize is a very exclusive visit. It’s very orderly inside, typical high-class Scandinavian clean-line interior with many alcoves for different purposes. It’s delightfully homey, warm. Wish I could come and stay here sometime.

A different setting, though I didn’t leave. I’m flying on a Victorian-era airship, same elegant styling as the Titanic (but nothing to do with sinking). There are many spindly metal catwalks providing grand outdoor views, though I concentrate on getting where I want to go without dallying in the more tourist parts of the craft. There was a special metal sauna-type place that was important — that I had to get back to, or go to an event in, or work at perhaps. But it recurred. Maybe it was the transposed location of the Finnish rock cavity from before.

On the ship, at some point my friend and I are parting. I consciously give him a very long hug, trying to imbue it with meaning by summoning my feelings and putting them in to the hug. While the hug lasts a long time it’s weird difficult to bring forth the imagery of how I feel, making the duration seem somehow awkward — almost a feeling of “am I doing it? how about now? now?” Upon reflection, I’d guess this eyes-closed dream was a lull in my sleep cycle.

Attending a solo musical performance in an oddly-shaped locker room. Still on the airship, though you wouldn’t really know it except for the persistent sensation of eye-level clouds stretching in the distance, whenever you look beyond the edge of a walkway. Someone I knew a long time ago as a kid is here, Dayle Zimmer. I don’t know why I might be remembering her.

Testing out a Mohawk in the mirror using just my already fully-grown hair (patting it down into a shape). Looks surprisingly good! The amount leftover on the sides makes it tempting to do more, but then it wouldn’t be a Mohawk. When my hair comes loose, I’m already teetering on the edge of wild madman hair.


Pulling out into a different context, breaking the narrative, I watch as it’s revealed that Captain Kirk is fixing a holodeck panel. It’s quite dissembled and he’s been at it awhile, you can tell. The holodeck is memorably red, white, and chroma-key green, and the reflections off many surfaces give it a confusing surreal perception.

Can’t help myself breaking out giggling because someone said this holodeck would be too big in this new movie… and it totally is.

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Dream Journal

Forgot the Naked Pictures in my Wallet

On a university campus of a huge wide open green, I spot a parade of Cthulhu characters emerging. I race on an intercept course so I can start shooting a video and record the beginning of the column coming into frame. This seems like a unique tradition on this campus and I think it’d be a great idea to share it.

Following after the parade, I become like a student. Not bad academically in fact; I keep quiet and perform the class activities dutifully. The group arrives at an enclosed multi-purpose space where much occurs. I take initiative to remove the plastic cover of the room’s ring of string lights and jiggle them back into position as best I can. In one corner I notice “Gavid David”, supposedly George Lucas’ self-insert character from the new Star Wars, which is a broody chicken — his wavy hair is carefully coiffed and dyed rainbow colors.

In my wallet I discover some very cool photos of a clown girl I know, Sabrina W. She’s doing handstands and performing splits, looks like she’s naked and with body paint. I’m confused at first then they jog my memory, I took these myself not long ago when we had sex — sometime during the dream chronology, in fact.

On a street I attempt to find a relative of a deceased classmate from my youth, Stephanie Sukhram, to give $20 as a token of common mourning… enough at least to buy some flowers if they wish. (Perhaps it counts toward what I owe them for that stuffed teal-and-pink shark.)

I observe part of Finland in the wintertime, where bodies are being buried by the side of a road. A man jokingly announces “that’s what happens to Finns who don’t sign the new road adjustment form”.