I posted a few dreams to LiveJournal. Here they are too. Friday's:
The first part was in some kind of store, with short aisles. (I think it might've been in the mall I'd dreamt about before.) They were selling video game things, one of which was this "Project Sonic
," a completely new console to which either fans or Sonic Team (ie, not Sega or anyone) had ported part (only part!) of a Sonic game (maybe Adventure, since I was thinking Dreamcast). I wandered around the store some, and at one point there were scary events such as in the next part of the dream. In the next part of the dream, I was at home, fixing something about my car, without any pants on. There was a loud pop I didn't know what was. I decided to get the car into the garage, so I pulled it up, went inside, and hit the button to close the garage door (it was the old garage door that spanned the whole front of the garage; we never put any cars in it anyway, so Pa had it converted into a half-width garage door and a normal wall with a people-door). While it was closing, I looked and realized the car wasn't even nearly in all the way, so I hit the button a few times to open the door back up before . By this time (perhaps earlier) I had noticed the man across the street (also in the across-the-street neighbor's garage which has since been converted into some room or other by the replacement of the garage door with a wall), who was black. African, actually, though I just know that--he was wearing normal clothes, as opposed to stereotypical African garb. There was a loud pop, and when I looked again my car had been blown back out of the garage and in front of the house--not even in the driveway--as if by a cartoony burst of the tires. (I've been meaning for quite a while to check tire pressure since I've been neglecting that.) The man starts walking over, very calmly, but I know (I don't think I actually quite see) that starting to follow him out of the garage are several black kids--like Sarah's son from Odyssey 5 age kids--with guns. And they're going to shoot me. So I close the garage, rush inside, lock the doors I can lock, and hide in the bathroom, hoping there are enough walls between me and them. The end.
So, I'm not happy I had an apparently racist dream, but there it is. I guess maybe I shouldn't've watched 9/11 on DVD yesterday.
Monday's:
The first was (I only remember a little) Batman Beyond only instead of Terry McGinnis there was an apparent cross between the young Robin in one of the Batman animated series and the evil psychic kid from the Justice Guild episode of Justice League--only he had the voice of Milo Oblong (and Otto of Time Squad). There was an older young man around (that is, possibly Terry or a little older) but I don't recall him being Terry. They and (the old) Bruce and Commissioner Barbara Gordon were discussing why Bruce put his eyeglasses in the oven--not like an oven oven, more like one of those barbershop sanitizers, but something that would've kept them warm, not that a barbershop sanitizer would. The kid thought it was because he wanted them crunchy, and then it was time for Commissioner Gordon to go so he escorted her out.
I was actually in the second dream: my older brother was an outlaw and come home to pick up our sister or his girlfriend or someone, and we were watching tv in a house similar to ours (that is, this one) but different. Something about robbing casinos, though not as grandly as in, say, 3000 Miles to Graceland (which was awful) or the remake of Ocean's Eleven. The main sequence was us pulling glasses out of the (larger, slightly misplaced) cabinet, looking for travel drink containers we could take with us. We found a few but were disappointed and dithering about which to take; we should've looked in a particular other cabinet, since that's where we actually keep them. This dream was very Love and a .45.
Whenever I remember my dreams, I don't feel very rested. Or is it that I only remember them when I've been interrupted, and so not fully rested? If I rest fully, do I not remember dreams?
