Ongoing Criminal Enterprise

This was a very long dream I went in-and-out of for a long time.

Police chase: I am part of a street gang. The police have come as the result of some graphic violence. I may have been involved hands on. I am now feeling scared yet clever for eluding the police and observing the complex street scene from an elevated observation point. Like on the fire escape of a building.


Upholstered toilet: I am now at home where the gang lives. There is a nondescript leather chair that has been converted into a toilet. Pooping in the device seems to have gone well, but there is several inches of pee that has pooled in the bottom of the chair and I am contemplating how to empty it out.


Choosing airplanes: I am a young teenager and am playing with a regular playmate. We may be related. We are trying to decide which model of airplane we are going to get out to play with...actually fly. We are getting one for each of us. We choose a WWII single pilot fighter. We know they are very valuable and rationalize that we get older there will be younger kids who can then play with them. We know we may get in trouble, but the risk seems low and well considered.

Dog Fight in Hostile Territory

A large family group is traveling together. In a previous dreams I discovered we are in hostile territory. We're driving way too fast when someone, Cindy, decides we need to turn in. The car I am driving skids forever into the dirt making a mess of the ground and wrecking the car.

Jimmy and I get out with Rory and Roxie. We know we are potentially in a very bad situation. Here comes 2-3 of the men we hate. They are much bigger than us an so are their dogs.

I grab two dogs and keep them from fighting. The leader of the group contemplates letting his dogs kill ours. I jump in his face yelling at him to stop. He is much taller than me, but I am being much more aggressive. I am so aggressive I draw blood from his face and chest. I push him back thru a barrier and there are hundreds of people, all enemies, watching now.

I scream in his face, I would rather die than lose my dog.

I wake in full fight mode.

Notes: Viscerally extremely angry when I wake.

Viva la Revolución

I am with a small group of Mexican fighters. We are in the street. We all have guns and are crouched behind a barrier. There is another group that sees us and starts coming at us and we are shooting at each other. My comrades tell me to run away but I stay as they get closer and closer. As they get almost on top of me I see that they're not normal soldiers but they're zombies. I have a machine gun and spraying bullets all over the place and defeat them.

We are associated with a with a certain drugstore. The other groups may have different sponsors. It's like we are commercial groups not political.

Looking up the street I see another small group and get the idea they are very important. I again my cohorts don't feel it's that important to engage them, but I feel it is critical. I began firing my machine gun and it spews many bullets.. It's almost like a garden hose it arches way up and the bullets are falling down on them but many are reaching the target.

First Blood in a Renewed Carnie War

I am being escorted around an indoor space where there are assigned spots for each participant. I am with one or possibly two others. Things are very run down but become increasingly familiar. We arrive at our location  it is large with multiple rooms,  but is filthy with debris everywhere, peeling paint and splintering wood that make up the walls and windows. There are no  ceilings as the space is open to the cavernous shadowy darkness that fades up into darkness. 

I begin to plan how to revitalize our spot including a quick covering of white spray paint with no preparation. Just for temporary looks. 

We are walking around and notice another family we know setting up. Muck of their stuff is already on display. I have a deep immediate loathing and dread. We are in an ongoing dangerous feud from the long past and I make a sneaky attack on something that is similar to a small Christmas tree. I curse it in some way and set a booby trap the plant in a way that will surprise and be dangerous to one of their preteen sons organizing the space. It looks shabby. The war is back on and I  just drew first blood and am satisfied.

Notes: I was woken by an alarm yanked from the dream but able to close my eyes and remember the mood and several details. 

Wealthy vs Uber Rich

I am in someone's house who is obviously very well off. I am spending time primarily with the husband. My role is unclear, I may be working foe him, I may sell insurance. The house feels like a upper middle class home from the 1950s.

We are now going to another home and I am supposed to casually get to know people and create some business opportunities. I feel way out of my league and have no idea even how to join a conversation.

I notice the amazing decorating style that the artistic Uber Rick woman of the house has created for the gathering. There are loose fern prions strewn around the marble floors. It looks effortless and natural. Like you are visiting Mount Olympus.

We are now back in the first home and apparently the group is planning on shifting it's location here. The wife is frantically trying to recreate a similar feel in her home. Hired house staff are taking rapid orders and making a literal mess of things. I notice one scrubbing at a stain just made in the carpet. I walk into another room and the random natural decorations are so cramped in the much smaller rooms that you can't get by them. I feel sad for the wife trying to re-create a sense of style that is completely beyond her.

The world’s most expensive penthouse

Notes: I woke feeling disoriented in my own life. I am acutely aware that even members of my own family are living in completely different worlds. Largely based on how we see money and religion and world view.