Secret Agent

Date of dream: Sunday, December 17, 2006

Level of Lucidity: N/A     Level of Cohesiveness:

This dream has been viewed 3255 times.

I forget a lot of the details, but I am someone else in this dream. I remember stepping outside of a house that seems to be deep in the country. There are other houses around but they are few and far between. I remember I was looking for someone out here. I am walking along a fence (the fence is made of thick square posts with the square mesh nailed to them) The other side of the fence there is a lot of tall green grass. I encounter a man wearing a dark long coat, a sort of bowler hat and small spectacles almost right away. I also know he's the man I am looking for. For whatever reason I pretend to not really notice him, though his presence is so obvious. I think I was trying to play a trick on him. I remember thinking to myself as I keep walking right past him that he must be thinking to himself how on earth I could have missed him, or was it possible that I didn't recognize him. The man is so out of place in the green field and in those particular clothes that it would take a great effort to not notice him. I end up walking along the entire perimitter of the fence and come around to the other side of the house where I see what looks like a peice of gold shiney paper on the grass. This grass is mowed, so it's not tall. I get closer to it and see it's a sheet of stickers, and depict letters in gold. This is the sort of thing you might pick up to put your name on your mailbox. I determined by the missing letters that the sheet of stickers must belong to the man I was hunting for (in this case the man I deliberately pretended not to notice in the feild just now). I don't turn to look for him.

Here's where the dream just seems to go off in some new direction entirely. I find a book on the ground, too, and I open it up and suddenly all around my feet are seemingly thousands of tiny figurines of all manner of things, mostly animals, but I think there are some other small items among the forms. They seem to be made of ceramic. I look inside the book and at first I am rather disgusted to find that it's full of anthropomorphic pornography (that is, incase you don't know, animals with human-like characteristics). One picture I remember depicted two male elephants engaging in a sex act, but some of it was a dot to dot game where who ever was looking at the picture was supposed to take a pen and connect the dots to finnish the drawing. I find myself irriated that the drawing is porposely unfinished.

I am also suddenly surprised at myself that I want to see more of this smae sortof art work. Although I was not lucid as of yet, I was aware that I don't usually care for porn, and was usually quite offended by it as well. Suddenly I am inside in a very big white buidling. Someone is telling me where there is more of this sort of art work, and I find myself very anxious to see it. I know there is some person here with me, but they seem to be there, but somehow invisible at the same time. The museum is secret, and no one but a select few are to know where it is at. The building and the path to this secret art museum seems endlessly complex. At some point I feel the urge to use the toilet and look for a bathroom. I find one and I am annoyed and for some reason embarrassed that there is a cleaning lady here, and I wait for her to leave before I try to use the toilet. (in real life I had actually gone to use a public rest room at a toy store, and did feel annoyed because an employee was standing in front of the door and gave me the impressiong , at first, that I couldn't go in, because the bathroom was full. This turned out to not be the case, I went in, and only had a wait a short while)

When the lady finally leaves I am take down my pants and I am quite surprised, disgusted and also terrified that there is some bizarrre ugly tumor like growth sprouting from my genitals. It keeps oddly changing shape, at one point it blew up like a very ugly splotchy balloon, and felt heavy as a watermelon. I wondered why it was happening, and what on earth this thing was. However, everything went back to normal and it was like I immediately forgot it happened at all. I eventually wake up from this dream around here and use the toilet.

Additional Comments:

There was definitely a strong theme of secrecy and sexuality in this dream, though I can't really make any sense of it on how it relates to my waking life. There is something the porn could be hinting at. I find myself often really irriated about not being able to sell my art work at conventions because pornography is more popular. I get genuinely pissed off because most con goers will pass me by to buy what is in my opinion really inferior art work, and really it is only being bought because it's pornographic and not because it has any redeemable artistic quality. I have often considered whoring myself and just drawing the goddamned porn so I could make some good cash, too, for a change, but every time I try to do this I just can't bring myself to do so. In any case it still pisses me off to be over looked because I won't draw porn. I think this (later part) dream must have something to do with this.
  • Themes
  • Sexuality
  • Keywords
    weird growth

    Destroy the Ocean and the Porn Planets

    Date of dream: Sunday, November 12, 2006

    Level of Lucidity: N/A     Level of Cohesiveness:

    This dream has been viewed 3153 times.

    I forget the earlier part of this dream, but I seem to be walking among a huge glut of stuff. The stuff was basically organized, but it was still very unsanitary. I seemed to be in the section of kitchen wares. The different items were sloppily sectioned off. For instance, there was one place where I remember seeing lots of different kinds of cutlery, all the same design of forks and knives were in one place, and there were so many of each. There were toasters, napkin rings, and ever other imaginable kitchen item, but some of the forks and spoons, for instance, still had food stuck to it. I was unable to walk without stepping all over the mountains of stuff. I wanted to leave this place. Suddenly I notice that whatever I am walking on seems sort of squishy. I get the impression that the stuff is so tightly packed together that it is acting as a boat on top of water. The further I go the slushier the stuff gets until I am wading butt deep in stuff sewage. It's like the stuff has been pureed' and it's mostly white with chunks of god only knows what floating around in it. There is no where to go to get out of the mire. I keep walking and finally meet up with some other people. It would seem that I know them. We're complaining about the nasty stuff we're walking in. We're talking about how its going to get cleaned up, and we can't think of a solution. I almost walk right by something very interesing in the sewage. It looks like a mushroom growing in the water, and immediately surrounding it the water is clear, and I can see the bottom. I think to myself that the mushroom must somehow kill or feed off the sewage. I pick it up and try placing it randomly somewhere else in the muck, and instantly the sewage clear up. The mushrooms begin to proliferate quickly, and the sewage appears to be disappearing. I am pretty happy about that, though the mushrooms also seem to make this dark green leafy plant suddenly sprout like crazy, too. The plants are so aggressive they even start growing on me, which I do not like. I remember tearing the plant off the back of my legs and my butt. Although the sewage seemed to be disappearing, I wondered how much better too many plants were. I also remember coming across a man in a business suit. He explains where all the sewage comes from. He says something along the lines of that it all comes from the porn-making planets, and eventually when they can't produce anymore pornography, someone comes to their planet and destroys their oceans. The filth of the destruction ended up here.

    Additional Comments:

    I am just reading a book called "The Power of Now," and I think this dream is brushing on some of the ideas in the book. The author talks about how we confuse our minds with being us, in otherwords, our thinking selves is ourselves,and that we as a culture in general are addicted to thinking, and it's not a good thing. It's the constant unending stream of self conversations, singing songs in our heads, and having internal conversations that keep us form really just experiencing the present. In anycase, I have long been aware that I think too much, and I blame it for my chronic insomnia. I have so much trouble just getting my mind to be still long enough to drift off to sleep, but over the past few months or so I have been trying harder to just stop thinking, and I am getting better at that, and I have been sleeping better, too. I think the pornography in the dream is symbolic of not actuall pornography, but of the glut of people thinking, and that in a way it does destroy us. I think perhaps the dream is symbolic of my coming to terms with the problem of thinking too much, and that I am finally on the right path, but I need to be wary not to let some other addictive form make a new kind of mess, symbolised by the mushroom.
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