September 25, 2004
Another computer dream for September 25, 2004
This is one of a series of dreams that tells me that I spend too much time on the computer.
I made a post on a blog of mine. It simply had way too many mistakes on there. I had to correct them all before anyone reads it, I thought.
Then I was on YouThink on the Generals discussion board on YouThink. The whole design was different. Many of the discussions that I expected to be there simply were not there. There were probably 30 active discussions. The rest were considered inactive.
Then I went to JustConcerts.com They had a selection of artists: Rock, Jazz, Punk and Industrial/Ambient. I went to the Industrial/Ambient selection. That isn't how they separate their artists, by the way. I choose to listen to an artist, Tim Hayby. I don't know who Tim Hayby is, I think I just made him up in my mind. If he does exist, it would be one hell of a coincidence. There were two photos. One photo of Tim Hayby. He was smiling, wearing a light blue buisness suit and looked like he was in his early 30s. The other photo was the concert photo. The stage was dark. There was a central pole and the setting suggested a revolving stage. On the pole were three shelves or levels. There was a laptop on each level. Tim Hayby is more than likely one of a duo. After clicking on the concert, the RealAudio window popped up. It was a 35 minute concert. I only got to hear a few minutes of it before I woke up.
It sounded like this: There were "tic-toc" sounds and then I heard some light subtle sounds on top of the tic-tocs. I can't describe the subtle sounds, but it gave the impression that Tim Hayby was building up to something big.
I made a post on a blog of mine. It simply had way too many mistakes on there. I had to correct them all before anyone reads it, I thought.
Then I was on YouThink on the Generals discussion board on YouThink. The whole design was different. Many of the discussions that I expected to be there simply were not there. There were probably 30 active discussions. The rest were considered inactive.
Then I went to JustConcerts.com They had a selection of artists: Rock, Jazz, Punk and Industrial/Ambient. I went to the Industrial/Ambient selection. That isn't how they separate their artists, by the way. I choose to listen to an artist, Tim Hayby. I don't know who Tim Hayby is, I think I just made him up in my mind. If he does exist, it would be one hell of a coincidence. There were two photos. One photo of Tim Hayby. He was smiling, wearing a light blue buisness suit and looked like he was in his early 30s. The other photo was the concert photo. The stage was dark. There was a central pole and the setting suggested a revolving stage. On the pole were three shelves or levels. There was a laptop on each level. Tim Hayby is more than likely one of a duo. After clicking on the concert, the RealAudio window popped up. It was a 35 minute concert. I only got to hear a few minutes of it before I woke up.
It sounded like this: There were "tic-toc" sounds and then I heard some light subtle sounds on top of the tic-tocs. I can't describe the subtle sounds, but it gave the impression that Tim Hayby was building up to something big.
September 24, 2004
Chalk Marks I- September 24, 2004
I was dressed in a light blue jacket.
I was with a woman. I don't remember what she looks like any more.
We started kissing.
She told me that I needed to freshen my breath.
I was with a woman. I don't remember what she looks like any more.
We started kissing.
She told me that I needed to freshen my breath.
September 22, 2004
Journey to the top of Ontario on September 22, 2004
I was in a white van with three women traveling from Toronto.
(I must have gotten off from the Lester B Pearson airport)
We wanted to travel to the highest most point in Ontario to get a clearer picture of where we were supposed to be going to.
We drove around and to the north of Toronto traveling up a mountain.
It wasn't snowing, but there was snow everywhere.
It was pretty cold too.
We made a left turn.
We weren't driving in a van any more, we were walking.
There was a "check-point" around the corner.
At this check point we were told to stand still while some mechanical...well, things...heated up our feet.
After our feet were heated up we were allowed to continue.
Then we were back in the van.
There wasn't any transitions. No one got out of the van. No one opened or closed the doors.
It was as if the van disappeared once we got to the checkpoint and then re-appeared in the van after passing the checkpoint.
Once again, we ascended up a packed snowy path up a mountain.
Once again, we reached a checkpoint to have our feet warmed up.
I felt it was some sort of medical importance to keep our feet warm while driving on this mountain.
Finally, we were at the footsteps of the tallest building on this mountain city.
We started running up the staircase of what felt like a parking garage.
I was running with a woman passenger and she told me "Common! Hurry up!"
I ran into a glass wall. There was a break in the ground. If I were to jump across I would have fell.
"How do I get across?" I asked myself.
I went to my left and found a "bridge" across this break.
I ran across this parking garage top. There were a couple of people out and it turned out that this parking garage top floor was also a zoo.
I saw about 8 or 9 exotic animals. I can't remember what they all were.
I remember reaching back for a camera to see if I could take a few pictures.
I was running around, looking at these strange animals.
That's about all I can remember from this dream.
(I must have gotten off from the Lester B Pearson airport)
We wanted to travel to the highest most point in Ontario to get a clearer picture of where we were supposed to be going to.
We drove around and to the north of Toronto traveling up a mountain.
It wasn't snowing, but there was snow everywhere.
It was pretty cold too.
We made a left turn.
We weren't driving in a van any more, we were walking.
There was a "check-point" around the corner.
At this check point we were told to stand still while some mechanical...well, things...heated up our feet.
After our feet were heated up we were allowed to continue.
Then we were back in the van.
There wasn't any transitions. No one got out of the van. No one opened or closed the doors.
It was as if the van disappeared once we got to the checkpoint and then re-appeared in the van after passing the checkpoint.
Once again, we ascended up a packed snowy path up a mountain.
Once again, we reached a checkpoint to have our feet warmed up.
I felt it was some sort of medical importance to keep our feet warm while driving on this mountain.
Finally, we were at the footsteps of the tallest building on this mountain city.
We started running up the staircase of what felt like a parking garage.
I was running with a woman passenger and she told me "Common! Hurry up!"
I ran into a glass wall. There was a break in the ground. If I were to jump across I would have fell.
"How do I get across?" I asked myself.
I went to my left and found a "bridge" across this break.
I ran across this parking garage top. There were a couple of people out and it turned out that this parking garage top floor was also a zoo.
I saw about 8 or 9 exotic animals. I can't remember what they all were.
I remember reaching back for a camera to see if I could take a few pictures.
I was running around, looking at these strange animals.
That's about all I can remember from this dream.
September 21, 2004
Let's try this
I signed up for a Tag Board. I don't know if this is a good idea or not. I'm going to place it here first. If I like it and turns out useful, I'll make it a more permanent fixture.
So tag away!
So tag away!
September 20, 2004
A wake up call for September 20, 2004
I seem to have an internal alarm clock. At least an alarm clock that yells out YOU SLEPT IN, YOU DORK!.
I was in a group of eight people. We were playing some sort of game. There was a flat green surface. He were all pushing toy self propelled 4x4 trucks across the surface. We were supposed to place an obstacle onto the field. If your toy can't cross the obstacle you're out of the game.
Here's the alarm clock:
A man came in through the door and said "Get some lunch at Taco Schmuck!". (His pet phrase for Taco Bell) I woke up after he said that.
I was in a group of eight people. We were playing some sort of game. There was a flat green surface. He were all pushing toy self propelled 4x4 trucks across the surface. We were supposed to place an obstacle onto the field. If your toy can't cross the obstacle you're out of the game.
Here's the alarm clock:
A man came in through the door and said "Get some lunch at Taco Schmuck!". (His pet phrase for Taco Bell) I woke up after he said that.
September 18, 2004
Cleaning up the interpretation
I think the message of the dream is quite clear:
Rash and ill advised conclusions and assumptions are painful and costly. My subconscious could very well be saying "John...just what the hell are you thinking about?", or "John...what the hell convinced you to come to *THAT* conclusion!".
I would like to tidy it up by reviewing these other "minor" symbols.
Blue indicates liberation from worry and/or help from outside sources. The blue treasure chest, the two blue crowns and the blue dress that the woman was wearing were all roughly the same colour of blue. This woman was a genuine sweetheart who didn't deserve such an evil fate. That's interesting. And it's these stupid assumptions that are going to kill that relationship, that is if I don't do something now.
Black is an unfavorable omen unless it featured in a funeral or other appropriate situation, in which case it forecasts difficulties to overcome. Black was appropriate here since it lined the panels of a dark comic
Deep red forecasts unexpected good news. I don't know about that. The reds that were used to amplify the violent nature of the torture. How could it be unexpected good news?
King Happiness, prestige and prosperity are forecast in a dream or being, seeing, or meeting royalty, unless the dream had some embarrassing or unpleasant element in it, in which case it is a warning that you could be victimized by underhanded gossip, so keep your private affairs to yourself. Once again...gossip.
Okay...I think I have an idea, now.
The dream is warning me about gossip. It's telling me that I'm very quick to judge other people by gossip. Even though...even though I try not to, I do anyway. Why? I'm going to have to do a stream of consciousness writing on that and find out for myself.
Rash and ill advised conclusions and assumptions are painful and costly. My subconscious could very well be saying "John...just what the hell are you thinking about?", or "John...what the hell convinced you to come to *THAT* conclusion!".
I would like to tidy it up by reviewing these other "minor" symbols.
Blue indicates liberation from worry and/or help from outside sources. The blue treasure chest, the two blue crowns and the blue dress that the woman was wearing were all roughly the same colour of blue. This woman was a genuine sweetheart who didn't deserve such an evil fate. That's interesting. And it's these stupid assumptions that are going to kill that relationship, that is if I don't do something now.
Black is an unfavorable omen unless it featured in a funeral or other appropriate situation, in which case it forecasts difficulties to overcome. Black was appropriate here since it lined the panels of a dark comic
Deep red forecasts unexpected good news. I don't know about that. The reds that were used to amplify the violent nature of the torture. How could it be unexpected good news?
King Happiness, prestige and prosperity are forecast in a dream or being, seeing, or meeting royalty, unless the dream had some embarrassing or unpleasant element in it, in which case it is a warning that you could be victimized by underhanded gossip, so keep your private affairs to yourself. Once again...gossip.
Okay...I think I have an idea, now.
The dream is warning me about gossip. It's telling me that I'm very quick to judge other people by gossip. Even though...even though I try not to, I do anyway. Why? I'm going to have to do a stream of consciousness writing on that and find out for myself.
Brave analysis - II
I should give some thought to some of the other symbols in the dream.
I couldn't find any interpretations for comic books, but here's one for Pictures
Watercolors, drawings, or modern pictures predict minor changes
That sort of negates the symbols of Cruelty, Torture, and Killing. It could be just my subconscious keeping me on the straight and narrow path. Sort of like "Of course you're not an evil depraved little man bent on destroying all women, but here is a tale of a man who is like that".
Read
Reading in a dream is a generally favorable omen signifying progress. If you were reading aloud, it predicts help from outside sources; to hear someone else read foretells future comfort and peace of mind.
Progress, huh? Interesting. It doesn't say anything about reading from the last page.
Chest
A large chest is a warning against getting into debt; a small chest forecasts success in love; an empty chest is a forerunner into a minor disappointment; a full chest is an augury of family solidarity but only after disagreements and quarrels
The comic book panel had a large blue chest with two round crowns on the top. The crowns and the chest looked like they were made of the same material. The chest didn't have a lock. I got the impression that there was something valuable inside the chest. But the chest was a gift. There is something about family solidarity. I am going to have to keep my spending habits in check. That seems like a minor theme. "My last gift to you is the first gift [can't remember the name] gave to me", she said. Now that I think about it, it sounds like an odd thing to say.
Fork
...to dream of an eating fork signifies a release from present worries...to stab or see something or someone stabbed with a fork predicts a possible loss of status, so guard your tongue
The forks were stabbed in someone's eyes. I'm convinced this is a morality tale; a warning. Some minor but important adjustments in my attitude are very necessary right now.
Knife doesn't seem to have an appropriate description. The knife that was used was a dinner knife, not a steak knife. Blade has this:
...if clean and shiny, it indicates helpful new friends
...that doesn't work, does it?
Cut has this:
To dream of yourself or anyone else being cut by a sharp edge or object is a warning that indiscreet gossip or behavior could be very costly. Cool it!
That's better. The knife was stabbed in someone's mouth. That makes perfect sense with indiscreet gossip or behavior. This was after the King said "Silence that filthy wench!". Yes, okay. That's the warning. Rash and ill advised conclusions and assumptions are painful and costly. My subconscious could very well be saying "John...just what the hell are you thinking about?", or "John...what the hell convinced you to come to *THAT* conclusion!".
I couldn't find any interpretations for comic books, but here's one for Pictures
Watercolors, drawings, or modern pictures predict minor changes
That sort of negates the symbols of Cruelty, Torture, and Killing. It could be just my subconscious keeping me on the straight and narrow path. Sort of like "Of course you're not an evil depraved little man bent on destroying all women, but here is a tale of a man who is like that".
Read
Reading in a dream is a generally favorable omen signifying progress. If you were reading aloud, it predicts help from outside sources; to hear someone else read foretells future comfort and peace of mind.
Progress, huh? Interesting. It doesn't say anything about reading from the last page.
Chest
A large chest is a warning against getting into debt; a small chest forecasts success in love; an empty chest is a forerunner into a minor disappointment; a full chest is an augury of family solidarity but only after disagreements and quarrels
The comic book panel had a large blue chest with two round crowns on the top. The crowns and the chest looked like they were made of the same material. The chest didn't have a lock. I got the impression that there was something valuable inside the chest. But the chest was a gift. There is something about family solidarity. I am going to have to keep my spending habits in check. That seems like a minor theme. "My last gift to you is the first gift [can't remember the name] gave to me", she said. Now that I think about it, it sounds like an odd thing to say.
Fork
...to dream of an eating fork signifies a release from present worries...to stab or see something or someone stabbed with a fork predicts a possible loss of status, so guard your tongue
The forks were stabbed in someone's eyes. I'm convinced this is a morality tale; a warning. Some minor but important adjustments in my attitude are very necessary right now.
Knife doesn't seem to have an appropriate description. The knife that was used was a dinner knife, not a steak knife. Blade has this:
...if clean and shiny, it indicates helpful new friends
...that doesn't work, does it?
Cut has this:
To dream of yourself or anyone else being cut by a sharp edge or object is a warning that indiscreet gossip or behavior could be very costly. Cool it!
That's better. The knife was stabbed in someone's mouth. That makes perfect sense with indiscreet gossip or behavior. This was after the King said "Silence that filthy wench!". Yes, okay. That's the warning. Rash and ill advised conclusions and assumptions are painful and costly. My subconscious could very well be saying "John...just what the hell are you thinking about?", or "John...what the hell convinced you to come to *THAT* conclusion!".
September 17, 2004
Brave analysis
I must try to analyze what this dream is trying to tell me. I'm going to attempt a couple of interpretations. Tonight, I want to try to interpret and analyze the violent symbols first.
Torture
The torture of dreams often comes not from hot irons or leg irons, but from within the mind, via partial or complete paralysis. Pay attention to where on body the torment is located. If an external force is restraining and causing you pain, your guilty conscience is going out of its way to vent steam.
I wasn't the one getting tortured. Fictional characters were being tortured. Women being burned alive by a sadistic king. One woman more horribly than the others. Why did the king hate women so much? What caused him to get this hatred? What could my guilty conscious be telling me? Possibly that I have too many women crushes and I have to dispose of them, all except for one. Although I wonder...in the story, the king marries them and not long after he burns them alive. One right after the other. Is my mind telling me something about marriage? One was very protesting about it that the king wanted to cause her much more pain while she was dying. Am I causing someone a lot of needless pain?
Cruelty
Whether the victim was you or someone else, mental cruelty in a dream signifies frustration; perhaps you would be wise to be more flexible in your attitude and/or aims.
Exactly how frustrated am I with women, I wonder? Oh lord, a creepy unwanted thought...suppose the king was me? Am I this sadistic son of a bitch? Okay...okay...maybe I need to become more flexible then I have been. I haven't been fair in my attitude. It downright sucks.
Killing
If you dreamed of killing someone, whether intentionally or by accident, it signifies a period of severe emotional stress during which you must make a heroic effort to control your temper. To dream of being a witness to a killing portends a change which will not be entirely to your liking. A dream of seeing others kill insects or animals prophesies help from friendly sources, but to dream of killing them yourself predicts that you will overcome your obstacles through your own efforts.
I'm going to have to go with the second meaning. A change that will not be entirely to my liking. That seems to make the most sense.
If I were to combine what I have written above...it sounds like that I have caused someone or some people some needless pain. If I can't change right now and become more understanding and flexible, then things can only get worse.
I've combined that with my own personal feeling from reading the comic book from the back to the front. I was looking into the future. I did not like what I saw. There was no happy ending. It was a cycle that kept on getting worse.
Torture
The torture of dreams often comes not from hot irons or leg irons, but from within the mind, via partial or complete paralysis. Pay attention to where on body the torment is located. If an external force is restraining and causing you pain, your guilty conscience is going out of its way to vent steam.
I wasn't the one getting tortured. Fictional characters were being tortured. Women being burned alive by a sadistic king. One woman more horribly than the others. Why did the king hate women so much? What caused him to get this hatred? What could my guilty conscious be telling me? Possibly that I have too many women crushes and I have to dispose of them, all except for one. Although I wonder...in the story, the king marries them and not long after he burns them alive. One right after the other. Is my mind telling me something about marriage? One was very protesting about it that the king wanted to cause her much more pain while she was dying. Am I causing someone a lot of needless pain?
Cruelty
Whether the victim was you or someone else, mental cruelty in a dream signifies frustration; perhaps you would be wise to be more flexible in your attitude and/or aims.
Exactly how frustrated am I with women, I wonder? Oh lord, a creepy unwanted thought...suppose the king was me? Am I this sadistic son of a bitch? Okay...okay...maybe I need to become more flexible then I have been. I haven't been fair in my attitude. It downright sucks.
Killing
If you dreamed of killing someone, whether intentionally or by accident, it signifies a period of severe emotional stress during which you must make a heroic effort to control your temper. To dream of being a witness to a killing portends a change which will not be entirely to your liking. A dream of seeing others kill insects or animals prophesies help from friendly sources, but to dream of killing them yourself predicts that you will overcome your obstacles through your own efforts.
I'm going to have to go with the second meaning. A change that will not be entirely to my liking. That seems to make the most sense.
If I were to combine what I have written above...it sounds like that I have caused someone or some people some needless pain. If I can't change right now and become more understanding and flexible, then things can only get worse.
I've combined that with my own personal feeling from reading the comic book from the back to the front. I was looking into the future. I did not like what I saw. There was no happy ending. It was a cycle that kept on getting worse.
That....was disturbing (September 17, 2004)
A&E was on this morning broadcasting a movie about Helen of Troy. It somehow influenced this very disturbing dream.
I was reading a comic book, backwards. The pages were in black. I don't know who the artist or writers were. In this comic book, the first page that I've read was the last page in the book (naturally). A woman was placed inside a furnace, burning alive with a red cloth crammed in her mouth.
Turning a page back. I saw that this woman was married to a Roman king. It didn't take him too long to be dis-satisfied with her.
Turning another page back, another woman, same fate. Tied and burning alive in a furnace.
Another page back. This woman had more of a history. Before she would be married off to the king, she gave her friend/servant/husband a final gift. She was in a blue dress with a blue rounded cap. The gift was a treasure chest with two blue crowns on the top. She was saying that this was her husband's first gift to her. There was mystery within the chest. How could such a nice woman end up in such a grizzly fate?
Turning another page back, another woman, a more....disturbing fate. She was tied and burned alive in the furnace.
She was calling out "FUCK YOU BASTARDS!! I'LL KILL YOU!!".
The King said "Silence that filthy wench!".
First he stuffed her mouth with a red cloth. Then he went behind a glass cabinet.
The next panel, this woman has a sterling silver knife jammed in her mouth. Two forks jammed in her eyes.
The next panel, this woman was now laying on top of the fire, and the king was jamming more sterling silverware into her body.What a sadistic evil son of a bitch, I thought
I woke up feeling very disturbed. This is one of my emotional nightmares.
I was reading a comic book, backwards. The pages were in black. I don't know who the artist or writers were. In this comic book, the first page that I've read was the last page in the book (naturally). A woman was placed inside a furnace, burning alive with a red cloth crammed in her mouth.
Turning a page back. I saw that this woman was married to a Roman king. It didn't take him too long to be dis-satisfied with her.
Turning another page back, another woman, same fate. Tied and burning alive in a furnace.
Another page back. This woman had more of a history. Before she would be married off to the king, she gave her friend/servant/husband a final gift. She was in a blue dress with a blue rounded cap. The gift was a treasure chest with two blue crowns on the top. She was saying that this was her husband's first gift to her. There was mystery within the chest. How could such a nice woman end up in such a grizzly fate?
Turning another page back, another woman, a more....disturbing fate. She was tied and burned alive in the furnace.
She was calling out "FUCK YOU BASTARDS!! I'LL KILL YOU!!".
The King said "Silence that filthy wench!".
First he stuffed her mouth with a red cloth. Then he went behind a glass cabinet.
The next panel, this woman has a sterling silver knife jammed in her mouth. Two forks jammed in her eyes.
The next panel, this woman was now laying on top of the fire, and the king was jamming more sterling silverware into her body.What a sadistic evil son of a bitch, I thought
I woke up feeling very disturbed. This is one of my emotional nightmares.
September 16, 2004
The Swiss Cheese effect
I'm borrowing this from two sources. The first source being "Quantum Leap" and the second source from Lachesis.
Lachesis:
Seriously, I also have a problem with short-term memory recall on waking, but I've long attributed that to a high distraction rate.
Me: I wonder if Attention Deficit has a role to play in this?
i.e. You could give me a standard 7-digit phone number to memorize - I could repeat it to myself over and over again for 15-30 seconds, then stop. 3 minutes later I wouldn't be able to recall pieces of it, then 5 minutes later almost all of it would disappear from my memory.
Me: The moment you mentioned this harkened a broadcast of CBC's Quirks and Quarks about memory. Here's the MP3 of that discussion and an OGG of that exact same discussion
Swiss cheese ;)
But this doesn't really happen in interactive memories - for instance, I just returned from giving a presentation to 20-25 people. I can recall plenty of details about the meeting, and I remember images, feelings, etc. I remember faces, where people were sitting, the general cadence and sequence of my presentation. If it were a dream, I wouldn't recall any of that, even though the "experience" would've been close to real.
So what's different, I wonder?
Me: Listen to the broadcast. See if it gives you any insight into memory. I personally find Bob McDonald a wealth of scientific information...or at least scientific radio programs.
Lachesis:
Seriously, I also have a problem with short-term memory recall on waking, but I've long attributed that to a high distraction rate.
Me: I wonder if Attention Deficit has a role to play in this?
i.e. You could give me a standard 7-digit phone number to memorize - I could repeat it to myself over and over again for 15-30 seconds, then stop. 3 minutes later I wouldn't be able to recall pieces of it, then 5 minutes later almost all of it would disappear from my memory.
Me: The moment you mentioned this harkened a broadcast of CBC's Quirks and Quarks about memory. Here's the MP3 of that discussion and an OGG of that exact same discussion
Swiss cheese ;)
But this doesn't really happen in interactive memories - for instance, I just returned from giving a presentation to 20-25 people. I can recall plenty of details about the meeting, and I remember images, feelings, etc. I remember faces, where people were sitting, the general cadence and sequence of my presentation. If it were a dream, I wouldn't recall any of that, even though the "experience" would've been close to real.
So what's different, I wonder?
Me: Listen to the broadcast. See if it gives you any insight into memory. I personally find Bob McDonald a wealth of scientific information...or at least scientific radio programs.
September 14, 2004
Remembering dreams: An add-on topic
Lachesis suggested it and I think it's a good idea:
Lachesis:
How in the WORLD do you remember all those details??? I never! have a dream when I can remember that many details...
Me:
Lately...the best way I've been able to retain a mental image of the dream that I had is to either:
a) Write it down the moment I wake up
b) Recite a scene or scenes. Really. Just say it out loud
Another way, and I know this is going to sound strange, is to try to retain a "snapshot" of your dream in memory.
Lachesis:
I don't even recall those kind of details immediately on waking. It's like whatever I was dreaming about is immediately erased upon waking.
You know, say you draw a huge mural on a chalkboard. Then you take a big eraser and suddenly erase the whole thing as quickly as you can. When you're done, inevitably there are a couple of chalk marks left behind here and there, unrelated.
Those little chalk marks are what I recall on waking most of the time, if at all.
My response: [September 14, 2004 @ 14:04]
I think it's why it's important to see if you could remember one single image from your dream. It's how I was able to remember some details from the second part of this dream The kid with what looks like he has a tumour gave me sort of a snapshot of me being in front of the house/school.
Memories of dreams could also be lost due to stress, I would imagine.
I don't know. What do you think?
Lachesis:
That's the question. I've seen lots of commentary on dream recall, where people are advised to keep a dream journal, write stuff down before getting out of bed, etc. - even take things like vitamin B6 before bed.
I do all that (even tried the B6 for a while) but my problem is deeper - recalling anything at all of dreams on waking. Maybe it's a larger, memory-specific problem....
Me: I couldn't think of a proper response at the time
I was asking someone online about how she remembers dreams. She told me that she remembers triggers. For example, a character from Friends who shares the same name of someone who was in your dreams. There's got to be some other techniques out there. I think I've read once how someone bought a tape recorder to record their dreams as soon as they woke up, only to repeat "What an incredible dream" over and over again.
Lachesis:
How in the WORLD do you remember all those details??? I never! have a dream when I can remember that many details...
Me:
Lately...the best way I've been able to retain a mental image of the dream that I had is to either:
a) Write it down the moment I wake up
b) Recite a scene or scenes. Really. Just say it out loud
Another way, and I know this is going to sound strange, is to try to retain a "snapshot" of your dream in memory.
Lachesis:
I don't even recall those kind of details immediately on waking. It's like whatever I was dreaming about is immediately erased upon waking.
You know, say you draw a huge mural on a chalkboard. Then you take a big eraser and suddenly erase the whole thing as quickly as you can. When you're done, inevitably there are a couple of chalk marks left behind here and there, unrelated.
Those little chalk marks are what I recall on waking most of the time, if at all.
My response: [September 14, 2004 @ 14:04]
I think it's why it's important to see if you could remember one single image from your dream. It's how I was able to remember some details from the second part of this dream The kid with what looks like he has a tumour gave me sort of a snapshot of me being in front of the house/school.
Memories of dreams could also be lost due to stress, I would imagine.
I don't know. What do you think?
Lachesis:
That's the question. I've seen lots of commentary on dream recall, where people are advised to keep a dream journal, write stuff down before getting out of bed, etc. - even take things like vitamin B6 before bed.
I do all that (even tried the B6 for a while) but my problem is deeper - recalling anything at all of dreams on waking. Maybe it's a larger, memory-specific problem....
Me: I couldn't think of a proper response at the time
I was asking someone online about how she remembers dreams. She told me that she remembers triggers. For example, a character from Friends who shares the same name of someone who was in your dreams. There's got to be some other techniques out there. I think I've read once how someone bought a tape recorder to record their dreams as soon as they woke up, only to repeat "What an incredible dream" over and over again.
September 12, 2004
PS
"I got some weird news for you", my sister said, "B and G are separtaing"
I paused.
"How did that happen?" I asked.
"Well, how did you happen?", she replied.
(Good point)
We talked about it for a while. I couldn't believe it. B and G were two of the happiest people that I've ever met. They were married for about 15 years, every time I saw them they were all smiles. They were members of my sister's band and really talented musicians.
Fast forward.
"Guess who K. is going out with?", asked my sister, "It's someone you know"
I chuckled. I hope it wasn't someone that I knew from high school or university.
"K. is going out with R."
I paused.
"How did that happen?" I asked.
"R. must have liked her from afar, and I guess K. got tired of being single"
(R. and my sister used to go out together. They had a nasty break up)
We talked about relationships for a while. Her other old boyfriend, G. left a weird message on my brother's answering machine. He wanted to get a hold of my sister and find out where she was staying at.
Fast forward.
"I did say that H. was on a couple of dating services, right?", I said.
"I don't think she's ready. I think she needs to be independent first, don't you think?"
"I suppose you're right", I replied
"I think you're done with that," she observed "You don't need any more 'Mama's girls'. You should be dating someone more artistic. More independent"
(She's right, you know, I say to myself)
"I always saw you as independent" she went on "Even when you were as young as seven, you were always an independent little guy"
(That was a reference to a time when the family went over to see the F. family. I decided that I was tired and I started to walk home)
We started talking about my independence. When was I going to gain my independence from H.'s family? I think I already am. I'm living on my own. I'm doing things on my own without having to call in any favors, ask them to shop for me, ask them over to clean my apartment. This is all me. I have to live on my own. That's a true sign of independence.
Fast forward.
"Call grandpa. You should call him", she said.
"I called him up and asked him how he was doing," she said mirroring what my nephew told me, "And he said that he was fine but 'Why couldn't I call him earlier?' So he's pretty much back to normal"
It sure sounds like it to me.
Rewind.
"Your brother had a dream about Dad", she said.
"He had lost a part of a Beethoven opera (whose name I can't recall) and Dad started whistling the first part to him."
Hesitantly, I started telling her about my dream about dad, Saddam and me in Iraq (that was actually India). She chuckled. I also told her about how elements of Regina, Yorkton and Charleston seem to be mixing themselves into my dream.
It was a good conversation.
Then I called grandpa.
I got his (full) answering machine.
*sigh* Alright, I'll try again later.
I paused.
"How did that happen?" I asked.
"Well, how did you happen?", she replied.
(Good point)
We talked about it for a while. I couldn't believe it. B and G were two of the happiest people that I've ever met. They were married for about 15 years, every time I saw them they were all smiles. They were members of my sister's band and really talented musicians.
Fast forward.
"Guess who K. is going out with?", asked my sister, "It's someone you know"
I chuckled. I hope it wasn't someone that I knew from high school or university.
"K. is going out with R."
I paused.
"How did that happen?" I asked.
"R. must have liked her from afar, and I guess K. got tired of being single"
(R. and my sister used to go out together. They had a nasty break up)
We talked about relationships for a while. Her other old boyfriend, G. left a weird message on my brother's answering machine. He wanted to get a hold of my sister and find out where she was staying at.
Fast forward.
"I did say that H. was on a couple of dating services, right?", I said.
"I don't think she's ready. I think she needs to be independent first, don't you think?"
"I suppose you're right", I replied
"I think you're done with that," she observed "You don't need any more 'Mama's girls'. You should be dating someone more artistic. More independent"
(She's right, you know, I say to myself)
"I always saw you as independent" she went on "Even when you were as young as seven, you were always an independent little guy"
(That was a reference to a time when the family went over to see the F. family. I decided that I was tired and I started to walk home)
We started talking about my independence. When was I going to gain my independence from H.'s family? I think I already am. I'm living on my own. I'm doing things on my own without having to call in any favors, ask them to shop for me, ask them over to clean my apartment. This is all me. I have to live on my own. That's a true sign of independence.
Fast forward.
"Call grandpa. You should call him", she said.
"I called him up and asked him how he was doing," she said mirroring what my nephew told me, "And he said that he was fine but 'Why couldn't I call him earlier?' So he's pretty much back to normal"
It sure sounds like it to me.
Rewind.
"Your brother had a dream about Dad", she said.
"He had lost a part of a Beethoven opera (whose name I can't recall) and Dad started whistling the first part to him."
Hesitantly, I started telling her about my dream about dad, Saddam and me in Iraq (that was actually India). She chuckled. I also told her about how elements of Regina, Yorkton and Charleston seem to be mixing themselves into my dream.
It was a good conversation.
Then I called grandpa.
I got his (full) answering machine.
*sigh* Alright, I'll try again later.
September 11, 2004
Hangover Dream
I have a throbbing headache and feel sick. I'm still tired. I've been up until 5:00am drinking and I'm surprised I made it back home. Well, I did make it back. So after five hours and a few wacky dreams I decided to wake up and record one.
This dream is completely loaded with mistakes.
Greg and I were undercover cops. This seems to be a recent recurring theme. We were on a motorbike. As soon as we turned on what looked like highway 7 (near Interstate 26) we spotted a couple of thiefs. It looked like they stole a piece of the Cooper River bridge. They drove a 1/2 ton red Nissan truck dated from 1984 to 1986 The Cooper River bridge is on highway 17, not highway 7. It was a split highway and we needed to get on the other side of the road as quick as possible, so we decided to take the exit on the right side of the road, right before the road meets the bridge going over the water. Even though there is a road right there before the bridge, it certainly would NOT help you get to the other side of the road. The road looked like it was closed, except people were still using it. It went beneath and around the bridges.
Some people jumped out of our way as we rode the road down to what looked like a gas station. The gas station was on fire. Someone threw a red box of paint onto the building. Someone else broke the glass. Beside the gas station was a couple of semi truckers. It looked like they were staging a protest. Greg stopped the motorbike and got off (thus abandoning our chase for the thief who stole the piece of the bridge). We went up to the building to see who was doing what. We turned to one guy who said "We're tired of working for niggers". The man was black, but he has asian characteristics. Greg himself seemed to have instantaneously changed into a black man Greg isn't a black man.. When we confronted the, I guess you can call, the mouthpiece, he started becoming poetic and philosophical. He started talking about his own family. It seemed like he abandoned whatever it was he was angry at.
This dream is completely loaded with mistakes.
Greg and I were undercover cops. This seems to be a recent recurring theme. We were on a motorbike. As soon as we turned on what looked like highway 7 (near Interstate 26) we spotted a couple of thiefs. It looked like they stole a piece of the Cooper River bridge. They drove a 1/2 ton red Nissan truck dated from 1984 to 1986 The Cooper River bridge is on highway 17, not highway 7. It was a split highway and we needed to get on the other side of the road as quick as possible, so we decided to take the exit on the right side of the road, right before the road meets the bridge going over the water. Even though there is a road right there before the bridge, it certainly would NOT help you get to the other side of the road. The road looked like it was closed, except people were still using it. It went beneath and around the bridges.
Some people jumped out of our way as we rode the road down to what looked like a gas station. The gas station was on fire. Someone threw a red box of paint onto the building. Someone else broke the glass. Beside the gas station was a couple of semi truckers. It looked like they were staging a protest. Greg stopped the motorbike and got off (thus abandoning our chase for the thief who stole the piece of the bridge). We went up to the building to see who was doing what. We turned to one guy who said "We're tired of working for niggers". The man was black, but he has asian characteristics. Greg himself seemed to have instantaneously changed into a black man Greg isn't a black man.. When we confronted the, I guess you can call, the mouthpiece, he started becoming poetic and philosophical. He started talking about his own family. It seemed like he abandoned whatever it was he was angry at.
September 09, 2004
PS
I got off the phone with my nephew. I tried to get a hold of my sister but she was out doing what she does best. Conducting her orchestra. I asked my nephew if he knew how grandpa was doing. Was he getting better or was he getting worse?
"He's getting better", replied my nephew, "But he's mad that you, your brother or my mom hasn't called often enough"
I can't think of any discussions about dreams for this entry
"He's getting better", replied my nephew, "But he's mad that you, your brother or my mom hasn't called often enough"
I can't think of any discussions about dreams for this entry
September 08, 2004
Fragile Dreams VI from September 8, 2004
One part of the dream, I was on the beach with what appeared to be a company picnic. I say it's on a beach, but there's no sand. There's grass and water. We all were swimming. P. was nude. There were two guys who were flirting with P. I was sitting with someone else. I don't remember who. (of course I was watching P.) There was a gentle slope behind us. Beyond the clear blue lake is the city of Charleston. It must have been around West Ashley because I don't recall seeing the Cooper River bridges. There was a tall oak or elm tree to my left. It was giving us some shade.
The second part of the dream I was in Iraq. Except the map looked like India. I was there along with my dad, and Saddam Hussein. Saddam had kids trying to attack some sort of house. My dad and I lined up the windows and doors with cardboard boxes so that we can stop the kids from getting into the house. The kids then stuck themselves to the windows and doors, trying to peek inside the house. Apparently I was now on the outside. I grabbed a kid and yanked him off of the window and asked him what he was doing. My dad looked like he was in his late 40s in the dream.
The second part of the dream I was in Iraq. Except the map looked like India. I was there along with my dad, and Saddam Hussein. Saddam had kids trying to attack some sort of house. My dad and I lined up the windows and doors with cardboard boxes so that we can stop the kids from getting into the house. The kids then stuck themselves to the windows and doors, trying to peek inside the house. Apparently I was now on the outside. I grabbed a kid and yanked him off of the window and asked him what he was doing. My dad looked like he was in his late 40s in the dream.
September 07, 2004
A fever dream from September 7, 2004
I had an allergy attack the other day which prompted Don to give me two little pink pills. They work but they make me completely drowsy. I had about three or four dreams last night due to the medication. I could only recall one.
I was part of a law enforcement team responsible for drug busts. My job is to go out on my motorbike out to the scene, first, and then call in the situation. Sort of like a scout. A large part of my team consisted of women (who resembled the team that I work with at the Medical University). They drove the heavier trucks and would respond to my reports. I would have to stay close by until they came around.
I had short length blonde hair in this dream.
One scene looked like Darlington Street in Yorkton, underneath the underpass. It was early in the evening. The sky had a darkened blue tint. I can't remember what happened after that.
Another scene happened on what looked like Broad Street in Regina, near the Armoury. Except the buildings on this part of Broad Street looked like buildings from Montague Avenue in Charleston. Members of the a latino gang were having a gun battle with automatics. I jumped from one lane to the other all the way around, out of harms way. I radio-ed in the situation and was instructed to get as close as I can without giving myself away. So I did. I can't remember what happened after that.
The third scene happened on Hagwood Street in Charleston, near the MUSC Hagwood parking tower. Except it looked different. There was a railroad track and two ditches on the left hand side of the street. We were driving down the street and for some reason I was interested in jumping across the tracks and the ditches. Except that wasn't part of the mission. We finally jumped off onto a railroad car that was stacked with heavy cases. We all started to push these heavy cases off. Someone started to push off a small box.
Someone yelled out "The radio!"
I jumped out and caught this yellow-orange box, and opened it. Inside was a laundry stand. I stood up and wondered where the radio went. A member of my team, who looked like Erica, said that she took out the radio and stored it for safe keeping. We continued to push everything off of the side of the railroad car into the ditch.
I was part of a law enforcement team responsible for drug busts. My job is to go out on my motorbike out to the scene, first, and then call in the situation. Sort of like a scout. A large part of my team consisted of women (who resembled the team that I work with at the Medical University). They drove the heavier trucks and would respond to my reports. I would have to stay close by until they came around.
I had short length blonde hair in this dream.
One scene looked like Darlington Street in Yorkton, underneath the underpass. It was early in the evening. The sky had a darkened blue tint. I can't remember what happened after that.
Another scene happened on what looked like Broad Street in Regina, near the Armoury. Except the buildings on this part of Broad Street looked like buildings from Montague Avenue in Charleston. Members of the a latino gang were having a gun battle with automatics. I jumped from one lane to the other all the way around, out of harms way. I radio-ed in the situation and was instructed to get as close as I can without giving myself away. So I did. I can't remember what happened after that.
The third scene happened on Hagwood Street in Charleston, near the MUSC Hagwood parking tower. Except it looked different. There was a railroad track and two ditches on the left hand side of the street. We were driving down the street and for some reason I was interested in jumping across the tracks and the ditches. Except that wasn't part of the mission. We finally jumped off onto a railroad car that was stacked with heavy cases. We all started to push these heavy cases off. Someone started to push off a small box.
Someone yelled out "The radio!"
I jumped out and caught this yellow-orange box, and opened it. Inside was a laundry stand. I stood up and wondered where the radio went. A member of my team, who looked like Erica, said that she took out the radio and stored it for safe keeping. We continued to push everything off of the side of the railroad car into the ditch.
September 06, 2004
Two parts of a three part dream from September 6, 2004
The first part I can't recall.
The last two parts I was able to remember.
The second part I was online reading questions posted by Tatz. It was a white screen background with some sort of script font. She was asking if some work of fiction with some long title was only available on Macintosh. She made reference to a "Next Line Feed" key on the keyboard. Someone answered back that if it had a "Next Line Feed" key, then there's a 100% chance that that particular novel is available ONLY to the Macintosh. It was one out of a list of questions. I don't think Tatz owns a Macintosh and I don't think there is such a thing as the "Next Line Feed" button. During the dream, my TV alarm clock was on A&E. Today it was a documentary about Charles Dickens.
In the third part, there was a minivan parking underneath a bridge. The bridge was either flooded or it was merely a loading dock. I was hiding in front of the grill of the van. Someone exited the van. I was watching him and his girlfriend in front of a building that was adjacant to the bridge. I can't remember what he was wearing. She was wearing a white t-shirt or sweater. She was a little overweight. She started moving upwards.
He called out "What are you doing?"
She replied "I'm not doing anything"
He called out, again "What are you doing?"
An animated dog (not Scooby) cried out from the van "We're all doomed! We're all doomed!"
She noticed that his eyes were not focused on his, they were focused on someone below her. It was the cast of Scooby-Doo, the movie (not the cartoon movies, of course). They were forming some sort of human ladder, scaling up the building. The woman with the white shirt was no longer on the top. It was now Valma on the top, Daphne below Valma, Fred below Daphe, me (playing Shaggy) below Fred and Scooby (the animated dog) below me (playing Shaggy). We were standing on each other's shoulders. It felt sort of heavy, Fred told us to told onto the the window ledges to help out with the weight. So we all did and climbed right on to our window ledges.
I have never seen the movie before
The last two parts I was able to remember.
The second part I was online reading questions posted by Tatz. It was a white screen background with some sort of script font. She was asking if some work of fiction with some long title was only available on Macintosh. She made reference to a "Next Line Feed" key on the keyboard. Someone answered back that if it had a "Next Line Feed" key, then there's a 100% chance that that particular novel is available ONLY to the Macintosh. It was one out of a list of questions. I don't think Tatz owns a Macintosh and I don't think there is such a thing as the "Next Line Feed" button. During the dream, my TV alarm clock was on A&E. Today it was a documentary about Charles Dickens.
In the third part, there was a minivan parking underneath a bridge. The bridge was either flooded or it was merely a loading dock. I was hiding in front of the grill of the van. Someone exited the van. I was watching him and his girlfriend in front of a building that was adjacant to the bridge. I can't remember what he was wearing. She was wearing a white t-shirt or sweater. She was a little overweight. She started moving upwards.
He called out "What are you doing?"
She replied "I'm not doing anything"
He called out, again "What are you doing?"
An animated dog (not Scooby) cried out from the van "We're all doomed! We're all doomed!"
She noticed that his eyes were not focused on his, they were focused on someone below her. It was the cast of Scooby-Doo, the movie (not the cartoon movies, of course). They were forming some sort of human ladder, scaling up the building. The woman with the white shirt was no longer on the top. It was now Valma on the top, Daphne below Valma, Fred below Daphe, me (playing Shaggy) below Fred and Scooby (the animated dog) below me (playing Shaggy). We were standing on each other's shoulders. It felt sort of heavy, Fred told us to told onto the the window ledges to help out with the weight. So we all did and climbed right on to our window ledges.
I have never seen the movie before
September 05, 2004
A walk down the street on September 5, 2004
Last night's dream once again had multiple parts. This case there were four parts. Hard as I could try to remember them, I could only remember two. The first part was just so complicated and I was so lazy in getting out of bed and writing it down I fear it's lost. The third part I can't remember either, no matter how hard I tried to recite it.
That leaves the second and the fourth parts. There is a very simple reason for this. They're both similar.
The second part took place on a darkened street. It carries the characteristics of King Street in Charleston and 12th Avenue in Regina. It was about 11pm at night. I was walking down the left hand side of the street. Walking away from Broad St in Regina, or walking away from Calhoun St in Charleston. It had the buildings from Charleston and was about as dark as Regina. It didn't have the palmetto trees of King Street and didn't have the prostitutes of 12th Avenue. The street was about as wide as 12th Avenue, but didn't have the traffic of Chareston. There was the heat and humidity typical of a Charleston night, instead of a cool Regina night. I don't remember what I was wearing. I do remember I was wearing my comfy Dr. Scholl's brown shoes.
The fourth part continues down the very same darkened street described in the above paragraph. Except now there were people either looking for a party to go to, another bar to go to, or were heading home. They all looked well dressed. There was a black man wearing a red, white and black jersey, slightly loose black jeans and a backwards white baseball cap. I had my hands in my pockets and walked through the middle of the crowd. The black dude was playing with his fists at me and caught a fist in the crook of my arm. After carrying his fist in my arm for a little bit, I lifted my arm and continued my way home. I didn't lose my pace and I didn't turn back. I didn't think he would jump me.
I used to live with my sister and nephew on 12th Avenue up until 1999. I would take the bus from the University of Regina up until the corner of Broad and 12th, then I would walk the rest of the way home. I didn't start driving in Regina until around 1997.
On the evening of September 3, 2004, I was walking down King Street towards Kickin' Chicken (Where my favorite Raggae band, Ras Bonghi, was playing) and I walked between four tall black men who pushed me a bit. I called out back to them "Whatever".
That leaves the second and the fourth parts. There is a very simple reason for this. They're both similar.
The second part took place on a darkened street. It carries the characteristics of King Street in Charleston and 12th Avenue in Regina. It was about 11pm at night. I was walking down the left hand side of the street. Walking away from Broad St in Regina, or walking away from Calhoun St in Charleston. It had the buildings from Charleston and was about as dark as Regina. It didn't have the palmetto trees of King Street and didn't have the prostitutes of 12th Avenue. The street was about as wide as 12th Avenue, but didn't have the traffic of Chareston. There was the heat and humidity typical of a Charleston night, instead of a cool Regina night. I don't remember what I was wearing. I do remember I was wearing my comfy Dr. Scholl's brown shoes.
The fourth part continues down the very same darkened street described in the above paragraph. Except now there were people either looking for a party to go to, another bar to go to, or were heading home. They all looked well dressed. There was a black man wearing a red, white and black jersey, slightly loose black jeans and a backwards white baseball cap. I had my hands in my pockets and walked through the middle of the crowd. The black dude was playing with his fists at me and caught a fist in the crook of my arm. After carrying his fist in my arm for a little bit, I lifted my arm and continued my way home. I didn't lose my pace and I didn't turn back. I didn't think he would jump me.
I used to live with my sister and nephew on 12th Avenue up until 1999. I would take the bus from the University of Regina up until the corner of Broad and 12th, then I would walk the rest of the way home. I didn't start driving in Regina until around 1997.
On the evening of September 3, 2004, I was walking down King Street towards Kickin' Chicken (Where my favorite Raggae band, Ras Bonghi, was playing) and I walked between four tall black men who pushed me a bit. I called out back to them "Whatever".
September 02, 2004
When does a dream begin?
This is from an unlikely source, Monty Python's Flying Circus:
Music comes in underneath: 'When does a dream begin'. Mix to a young airman on an airfield gazing into a WAAF's eyes. Black and white, soft focus and scratched film to look like a not very good print of a 40s film. Airman sings.
Airman (Neil Innes)
When does a dream begin?
Does it start with a goodnight kiss?
Is it conceived or simply achieved
When does a dream begin?
Is it born in a moment of bliss?
Or is it begun when two hearts are one
When does a dream exist?
The vision of you appears somehow
Impossible to resist
But I'm not imagining seeing you
For who could have dreamed of this?
When does a dream begin?
When reality is dismissed?
Or does it commence when we lose all pretence
When does a dream begin?
When does a dream begin - MP3
When does a dream begin - RealAudio
Music comes in underneath: 'When does a dream begin'. Mix to a young airman on an airfield gazing into a WAAF's eyes. Black and white, soft focus and scratched film to look like a not very good print of a 40s film. Airman sings.
Airman (Neil Innes)
When does a dream begin?
Does it start with a goodnight kiss?
Is it conceived or simply achieved
When does a dream begin?
Is it born in a moment of bliss?
Or is it begun when two hearts are one
When does a dream exist?
The vision of you appears somehow
Impossible to resist
But I'm not imagining seeing you
For who could have dreamed of this?
When does a dream begin?
When reality is dismissed?
Or does it commence when we lose all pretence
When does a dream begin?
When does a dream begin - MP3
When does a dream begin - RealAudio
September 01, 2004
What happened on the night of September 1, 2004?
I had a taco salad one hour before I went to bed last night.
I think spices and garlic enhance my dreams.
I was going to write down my dream this morning, but I was in a rush to go into the shower and head off to work at the Charleston Disabilities board. The more I wanted to forget my dream the more it stayed with me. Well part of it.
A large part I did forget. One scene stayed with me. I guess because of it's strangeness.
I was watching "Law and Order". It wasn't a familiar Law and Order. It was a Law and Order that I created in my mind.
The one scene I remembered was this:
One of the lawyers was in his upper state Manhattan apartment. The apartment suggested that he was very well off. Cutting the crap and getting right to the description: He was black, gay and living with his black lover. They both had short hair, and light brown skin. One was wearing a moustache.
The scene was set up as such:
We (the audience) are shown around the apartment.
He leans in off camera to give his lover a kiss.
The camera moves in to the two men giving each other their affections for each other.
Now I have to prepare for Hurricane Francis. Will it ever end?
I think spices and garlic enhance my dreams.
I was going to write down my dream this morning, but I was in a rush to go into the shower and head off to work at the Charleston Disabilities board. The more I wanted to forget my dream the more it stayed with me. Well part of it.
A large part I did forget. One scene stayed with me. I guess because of it's strangeness.
I was watching "Law and Order". It wasn't a familiar Law and Order. It was a Law and Order that I created in my mind.
The one scene I remembered was this:
One of the lawyers was in his upper state Manhattan apartment. The apartment suggested that he was very well off. Cutting the crap and getting right to the description: He was black, gay and living with his black lover. They both had short hair, and light brown skin. One was wearing a moustache.
The scene was set up as such:
We (the audience) are shown around the apartment.
He leans in off camera to give his lover a kiss.
The camera moves in to the two men giving each other their affections for each other.
Now I have to prepare for Hurricane Francis. Will it ever end?
