Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Dream 10. The Seventeenth Floor

I was with friends at a large fancy hotel. The only reason I could afford to stay was because it was work related. I had to work while I was there and then stay in whatever room they gave me. In exchange, my friends (I say friends, but these were two faceless girls in my dream, with no counterpart in my real life) could stay in any room they wanted.

I was done working for the night (bringing towels, blankets and such to guest rooms and carrying luggage) and was trudging off toward my room to sleep. It was well after midnight and the only people around were two elderly British women at the front desk and a smallish dirty maintenance man who reminded me of Gollum from Lord of the Rings (and since I never knew his name, that's what I will call him).

Gollum had been lurking around in the lobby. He stopped me and told me there was something on one of the floors he needed my help with. From the looks of the guy, I assumed he was pretty weak and felt sorry for him. He wasn't elderly, maybe fifty or sixty at most. Just short,  frail looking and quiet. He was a little hunched and walked with a limp. I had pity on the man. I trusted him.

I followed him up to the higher floors, avoiding the elevators. He told me he wasn't supposed to tie up the lifts. I was so tired and asked if he minded if I meet him up there, that I was going to go take the elevator up. He grabbed me then and said NO, keep moving! I began to get a little scared of him.

The stairs took us outside some of the time. Steep stairs along the side of the building, like in the movie Spirited Away. I was growing very uneasy and was so tired and sore from working all night. We finally arrived at the top floors, which were all storage space.

I knew then that something was seriously wrong. Gollum was walking normally now and didn't seem near as frail as he had been letting on. I turned to run and he grabbed my ankle. He dragged me up to the seventeenth floor and to a metal door. It was the entrance to the attic. It was dark and full of boxes. The place was huge, it looked like a warehouse, but completely full of stuff, right up to the ceiling. There was a mattress on the floor in a cleared out space, and he dragged me over to it an up onto it. The mattress was old and wet, completely filthy. Gollum was muttering to himself or to me the entire time, I couldn't understand what he was saying.

I realized I still had my phone with me. While he was busy trying to remove my shoes and pants, I discreetly turned on my phone and saw that it was open to Facebook.

I wrote a status update, "I am on the seventeenth floor of the Plaza Hotel and I am being rapt."

Autocorrect had ruined my call for help. I tried to fix it.


DAMMIT AUTOCORRECT, now everyone will think this is a joke!

"*RAPED, HELP ME! " I waited. Nothing.

I looked down after a bit of waiting to see that Gollum had given up on my pants and was snuggling my side, asleep. Repulsed, I got up and ran, out the attic door and down to the sixteenth floor. My friends were lying on couches that were there on the landing, talking about my status update on Facebook. They didn't seem concerned.

I took the elevator down to the lobby, prepared to turn Gollum in to the hotel management and the police. On the way down, I checked Facebook again. A few people had liked my recent status updates. No one mentioned help. No one seemed concerned.

** I woke up at this point to get my kids ready for school. I wrote this down as soon as I got them on their buses, then fell back asleep... into the same dream. It took a twist for the Nightmare on Elm Street after that. Suddenly the hotel had all these boiler rooms and conveyor belts, and all these teenagers were looking for this guy, whom I called Gollum. They would get on a conveyor belt which would take them to some sort of inner workings of the building, it was the only way to get there. These kids were slowly disappearing. I'm not sure if I was even there anymore. It was as if I were a ghost, observing but not interacting.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Dream 9. A Rich Vampire Calls the Salvation Army.

I was with a group of very irritating people who were all loitering at a rich asshole's house. No one really liked this guy, they were all there mooching -- eating his food, drinking his wine, throwing little parties in various parts of the house. He finally got sick of everyone and called the Salvation Army to come get ALL of his stuff.

I did outside near the big front entrance to the house as the Salvation Army people showed up. They were dressed as posh little bell hops. Everyone else started trickling out of the house to watch the Salvation Army people carry the rich asshole's belongings to their trucks. I grabbed a wine glass as they were

We all started to notice just how much old stuff was coming out of the house. Not just like antiques,

DAMMIT, I left this unfinished as a draft and can't remember the rest. Long story short, I found out somehow that the guy was a vampire.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Dream 8. Deaf, Death, and Pizza

Sat, 04 Jan 2014:

I was a deaf boy. It was my birthday party and my parents were fighting. I could hear them. My mother was trying to teach me some kind of slang word in sign language. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I would hear her saying it. I was in the car later with her and tried to tell her that I could hear, but she just laughed it off and didn't believe me.

Next dream, I dreamed I was me again, and my son, David was really sick. I thought he had died, told everyone he did, but when I went back to him, he was fine. Somewhere in my memory, the same thing had happened with my daughter, Lucy.

Next dream. I was in a pizza place with Charlie. We had just been seated and were watching the guys in the booth next to us leave. One of them tried to leave this big box of trash on our table but I threw it back to them. One of the guys, a tough-looking hairy dude, sat next to me in the booth and started making out with the side of my face. I was scared and just sat there frozen and confused until he got up and left. I then got up to go to the bathroom. This bathroom was old and absolutely huge, and a lot of the stalls either had no door or no toilet. I found one with both but it was super narrow and it was a squeeze, very uncomfortable. There were stalls with old school desks where the toilet should have been. It was dark and spooky and there were maddeningly loud dripping noises coming from everywhere. When I came out of the bathroom, I was suddenly a different person. I was an ex cop that looked like Nicolas Cage, and I was explaining to my young daughter how I solved a murder. I was still in the pizza place, writing a fake confession on a duffel bag with ketchup. The police came over and started to question me.