Tag: train

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Dream Journal

Left Behind at Omura Station

Travelling by train in Japan, stop momentarily at a station called Omura. The train leaves without me and my wife is on it with both our tickets. I have to walk along the line in a foreign country, or ride the train and hope they don’t check my ticket.

The back wall of my dad’s house in Cathedral City has been stolen. I suspect it might be a construction site somewhere in the lots behind it. The city recently has only sold cheap plots, ones in the middle of blocks without good road access. Exploring this area, I pass a lane of farm trees, not knowing the neighborhood anymore. I see Fifth’s Grocery store, and a Marie Callender’s inside it. I orient myself with the mountains but it’s harder than usual. I sit and wait underneath a shady tree out of eyeline, eat a couple coconuts and scope out the area.

Climbing up a set of colorful ersatz stairs, through a vertically-tilted bus where a giant girl is sleeping in one of the bunks. I pass by her and she seems interested in me but I’m kind of on a date. My date (a younger girl with dark fluffy short hair) and I make it for a wedding on this long plateau walkway at the top, something like the Alden Royal Skyway… very underwhelming for the title. No one else seems to be there yet, but I know this is where it is.

I’m shopping for a blue vest in a small department store, even though I already have a few blue vests. The department store is in some kind of college, concrete archways and corridors.

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Dream Journal

Stairway Stab Girl

Taking a ride to the airport, the doors to the bus open twice. I get out on an empty platform, embarrassed as the train speeds away. End up having to walk a long way to baggage claim, a tiny beige room in a spare building.

Girl on the landing between two stairways giving a blowjob. She has the guy stab her butt, then fuck the stab.

She then loads my dishwasher with dozens of blue glass jug vessels, careful they don’t rattle.

On the couch and there’s an orange cat in my lap. Reminds me of Flop! Rat cage is open though. It turns into two black cats, like Aloysius unfortunately. I call Lynae to come help.

My brother Patrick has his Mac break. He has to buy a new PC and is humorously says and condescending about it.

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Dream Journal

Fan Dads! at The Old Western Zoo

Fan Dads!Somewhere on vacation with Lynae, a specialty zoo with a quirky-healthy-family vibe, uniquely Mormon/Utah. We decide to go back a second day — something we’ve never done before. Get there late in the afternoon, so late I wonder if it’s still worth it. Paying admission is a long chore… exchanging coins for a donation slot, Lynae finally making change herself from the cash register, leaving notes on slips of paper for the individual drawers. There are some obvious indications of a seedy underbelly: repeated graffiti pieces and tags on the Old West log cabin facade (a consequence of being so far out on a country road), a hollowed-out warehouse across the street, where local teenagers congregate. I witness a bizarre and memorable instance of albino giraffes galloping through a dilapidated Fort Ord-like building of broken glass, rusty support columns, and families with young children.

We climb aboard a personal paddleboat-steamer-themed mini train and go through a set of swinging saloon doors. I immediately spot a few large folding knives in a water feature. I retrieve one (hey, free knives!) and it’s comically huge, the size of a sword, branded as ‘Bowie’ — not a Bowie knife, though. Turns out people have a habit of discarding their knives in this particular ride after they stab someone. Like I said: seedy underbelly.

I make my way out of the visitor areas of the park and access a back room with rows of rickety shelves, like a rural garden nursery, stacked with curious merchandise. They’re aging avocado water here for instance. Here I find what is certainly a unique marketing demographic: Fan Dads! That is, men of a certain age who enjoy working with all manner of circulation systems, professionally or as a hobby, who nurture a passion for controlling flow of hot/cold, water/air/oil, or rotational propulsion! I see a beautiful silhouette of myself testing one of these boy-toys, plumes of air or water billowing from my face. Of course I manage to tip over a weathered old shelf and just catch it before disaster strikes. Gah, the maintenance with this place! To be fair, I wasn’t supposed to be there.

I don’t know why I find Fan Dads inordinately hilarious, but… Fan Dads! I’ve been saying it in my head for like 2 hours. Fan Dads!

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Dream Journal

Missing the Subway Under the Education Complex

Inside a school complex, a range of all age students. Concrete everything. I’m waiting for a subway train on an underground platform with large posts that obscure my view. There are minders to help escort you onto the train, but mine is an inexperienced black kid that is dressed like a security guard. He screws up, despite my verbal protestations, and I miss the train despite standing right in front of it. The complex is big enough that I’m annoyed but not surprised.

Reminds me of a dream where I worked in an underground parking lot for Munchery — much like a coal mine. But also another parking lot dream, one where a cultish society had grown up in a renovated railyard roundhouse (like the Sacramento Railroad Museum) and I was the only one who could go in and out. I’ve also had dreams of a subterranean Space Mountain-style roller coaster. And a city-sized labyrinthine airport/spaceport.

The odd thing was that, from the satellite view of the school, this looked like my elementary school in Eureka… I haven’t thought about that in quite awhile and don’t know what it could mean.

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Dream Journal

From Sleep on Brian’s Portland Futon

A therapist ends up detained because she refuses to admit whether a client has been to Bremen, or is Bremen — this WWI story is known as BremenX. I find myself surprised and grateful that a therapist would selflessly protect a client like that.

In a communal sitting room with beige-walled booths, I look in the mirror mounted on the righthand side and catch the friendly eye of two ladies also waiting there. Perhaps we are using the ovens, baking pie. It’s clear to me the mirror was installed at the angle it was for just this purpose. I’ve been hanging about for a long time, and I’ve noticed an abundance of redheads with elaborate spirally hair-does that remind me of this bug:

https://twitter.com/cassiegrimaldi/status/912796613575364609

There’s some (red?) minivan a friend of mine is driving, and it’s creeping slowly toward the freeway on-ramp adjacent to the community bakery. If I can catch it, I pull off a great sex joke. But, having to cross a barrier and get across a few lanes, I ju-u-u-u-u-ust miss it. Then I’m first in line for the on-ramp, though, and I get low to the gravelly road and turn on rocket boosters (not something I’ve really used before) to catch up. They’re shite for hill-climbing, though, and when I encounter a sudden left curve after a steep hill with zero banking, my SR-71 Blackbird (which is where I kept the rockets, apparently) goes careening off the ribbon of dirt into the galactic space through which it wends.

A demonstration: the dynamically resized livery of a train, attractive top-to-bottom color gradients (splendidly coordinated along the length of the train, with occasional repeats). It’s a coal-fired steam train, even. As one reduces the number of cars it collapses into only a single cowboy-soldier pumping a handcar bearing a square American flag.

My family has re-acquired our Kemper Court house where I grew up. In the wall between the stained-glass entryway and the kitchen nook there’s now a rectangular hole just big enough to slip through on one’s back. As I peek through, I note how strange it feels to live there again after it belonged to someone else for so long.

Standing on a hilltop gazing reverently at a snow-covered mountain, kin to Mount San Jacinto in the Coachella Valley. A mirror on a long handle held at arm’s length, revealing another mountain far behind me — holy mountains at opposing ends of the valley where I stand.

I relate this dream to Brian when he, apropos of nothing, called me up to his balcony to view Mt. St. Helens on this clear autumn day. When the view isn’t blocked, one can see Mt. Hood, also.

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Dream Journal

Climbing a Telephone Pole

I was climbing up a telephone pole (or maybe just hanging out on it), a dirty old rusty one. A group of people passed underneath me on the sidewalk, including a woman who was the voice an animated rabbit when she was a girl. I couldn’t tell if they were aware of me or not. In retrospect, I might have been some sort of animal.

Meanwhile, in “another window” of awareness, I was watching a tutorial on road construction in SimCity. There was a hack where you could draw a 9×9 road grid, with diagonal extensions, connect grids together, then erase the parts you didn’t want — this would create a road in any shape. As the tutorial finished I heard the commentary of a landscape architect, saying this would help with playground design for years to come, and a saw a circle bisected by a path, with an even number of termini on top and odd on bottom. The conversing group, by this point, had passed. I didn’t notice the layers of experience operating at the time.

The voice actress had been a part of another dream where I was inside a trailer of sorts, actually a rail carriage. Smooth glossy white surfaces, cabinets on three walls with an unused shelf-ledge above each. The railway made a 90-degree left turn at some point. It was my family’s space (in some sense). Earlier, at the station, I had just barely made the train. I was the last on.

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Dream Journal

Mom on a Train, Grocery Dino, Nearby Directions

A train made up of different classes. I move to a cheaper one from a more expensive one to look for my mom. She’s there but as a kind of replay. I can’t interact with her.

Grocery store. Black store rep guy won’t take off his sunglasses. I go to another checkout line and a small velociraptor starts harassing me. I dodge elegantly. It has huge feathers.

Someone is asking for directions to an address that is just across the street. I try to direct them, but perhaps escorting them there would be easier and faster.