March 7, 2002 First, I dreamt of fragments where I was wandering through Kazad-Dum and some other “Moriah”-like places, but I don’t remember them clearly.
Then there were more vague pieces, until just before waking up, I dreamt that I had a large white house on an island, that I had come back home, closed all the doors, and shut all the windows. But for some reason, I did this from the outside, on the porch… Yet at the same time, I found myself inside again and heard someone knocking on the window. I went to the kitchen and saw my late aunt standing on the windowsill (outside!!!) asking to be let in. I didn’t let her in, but somehow she managed to get inside and rushed through the house looking for my (also late) mother.
I watched all this like a movie on the TV.
Then I found myself again on the porch. I liked the house: it was large and white, and everything was planned in it: a barbecue area, a pool, and a basement with a bar, billiards, and a sauna… Quite something…
I was trying to convince a young man to have some shashlik with me, but just at the most inconvenient moment (as always), the alarm clock rang. I moved it 15 minutes forward to finish the plot, but it never came, and the rest of the dream was without any images.
March 30, 2002 My friend Irka lay in a silver puddle of mercury. The mercury instantly absorbed into her body, revealing a piece of asphalt, glistening with leftover mercury, where an arm had been torn off at the elbow. It was the right arm, belonging to the person Irka had killed. We needed to take the arm and throw it away before anyone found it. Just then, a woman walked by. She saw the detached arm and immediately understood everything. We didn’t manage to kill her, but we grabbed the arm, awkwardly wrapped it in a white cloth, and threw it far into the grass behind the school sports field. The woman saw where we threw the arm and immediately started planning to blackmail us. It could have ended badly for us.
Fortunately, a moment later, I found myself in a commuter train. I was holding a case with a smaller suitcase inside, filled with diamonds and other precious stones. According to the note I was given along with the case, a sixth of the treasures belonged to me. An announcement came in the train about a check for transporting jewels. The suitcase had to be hidden. I shoved my arm into it and felt the diamonds melt like butter. I looked out of the train window at the green trees flying by and woke up.
April 9, 2002 First, I had a nightmare — two “scoundrels” (that was their nickname) somehow managed to get into my blog and started swearing, including writing, supposedly from my name, “I’m shit, I’m shit, I’m shit…” I tried to get in and clean up all that mess, but the scoundrels changed the password, and I had to be upset.
Then I dreamt of sex, but it wasn’t as wonderful as it usually is with a specific person. It was very sad. Actually, it became sad and lonely afterward… As if there was no love.
I dreamt that I was swimming in a river—the water was unbelievably clear, and I found a remarkably beautiful bright red stone, the size of a palm. There was a lot of other beautiful things at the bottom.
Then I had some strange dreams of dark rooms and strange sensations. Something else, but I don’t remember…
The first thing I did when I woke up was rush to my blog. Everything was in its place. The scoundrels didn’t appear.
April 20, 2002 When a sunbeam pierced through the open curtains and fell on my eyes, I dreamt I was standing on a road in Turkey, trying to catch a taxi because a fancy red convertible limo didn’t want to take me home. The sun was blinding my eyes, and all I wanted was sunglasses. Suddenly, I saw a bicycle with a cyclist riding along the road and over the sky. The cyclist dropped a knife and sunglasses. A gift from the heavens!
I grabbed the sunglasses and went to a house on the hill near the road. In that house lived the air-borne cyclist, and I needed to return his sunglasses, which were still on my nose, and the long knife. I entered the house and ended up in a spacious public toilet. Suddenly, the owner discovered strangers in the house and, with screams, rushed at me. I tried to explain with gestures that I had brought the knife and sunglasses, but she, without listening or even beginning to listen, doused me with a bucket of dirty water left over from mopping the floors. The water was cold, but I started screaming that she was stupid and that I had brought her son’s sunglasses and knife, and she poured hot water on me. Then I pointed to the sunglasses on my nose and the knife. The knife turned out to be not the one that had fallen from the cyclist, and the owner didn’t believe me.
The sun was blinding my eyes, and I woke up.
April 24, 2002 My boss came into the room of some sorceress. The room had no windows, painted in pink oil paint. Along the walls were glass shelves arranged in a zigzag pattern. It looked like someone had taken a ribbed solar battery, enlarged it, and made it glass. On these glass shelves, there was live fish. A knock at the door. The fish jumped off the shelves, flew into an open fridge, filled it up, and pretended to be dead.
My boss and his entourage entered the room and began interrogating the sorceress. He hinted that someone had been in the room. That’s when I became the sorceress and saw the scene through her eyes. I said, “Let’s see who was here,” opened the fridge, and there lay the fish pretending to be dead.
No longer suspected, I needed to leave the sorceress’s body because I had come as Natasha and needed to leave as Natasha. I suggested tea or coffee and, without waiting for a response, flew into the kitchen. Nothing happened. I returned to the pink room and said, “I met Natasha, she will prepare it.” That was a lie.
Next, a sorcerer appeared. He was medium height, dark-haired, with black eyebrows, very sexy (my type!). On his left cheek near the temple, just below his eye, was a black birthmark the size of a walnut. We needed to escape from him because he was going to do something terrible to all of us. What exactly, I didn’t understand, but it was something like turning us all into water. Everyone rushed down the stairs while the sexy sorcerer lazily watched our commotion. When I dream of running down stairs, I usually hold onto the railing, and the steps simply fly by. So it was this time.
At the bottom of the stairs, it turned out that the sorcerer had caught us because the door to the street was locked. There was more commotion and chaos. We had to run into a corridor to find an exit from the building. It turned out to be a school. We burst into some classroom, broke a window, jumped onto the roof of the building, and jumped down. We hoped the sorcerer wouldn’t catch up… Naive.
Everyone rushed away from the school. My house was right next to it, but I wasn’t sure if it would be safe there since sorcerers can sometimes pass through walls… With great effort, I managed to run along the path from the school to my house. Running in dreams is usually very difficult… A girl was running with me. She decided to hide with me. She had a small, cute mole on her cheek… When we reached the door of my building, I hesitated. I looked into the girl’s blue eyes and thoughtfully said, “A mole on the cheek.” “It’s my ancestor’s legacy,” she answered thoughtfully. In fear, I didn’t enter the building. The girl hesitated for a few seconds, looking out of the doorway, waiting for me to enter, and then disappeared behind the metal door.
I backed away in wild fear, not being sure whether she was the girl, just as I wasn’t sure whether she was the sorcerer, and fell on my back. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and the girl came out of the building. She had some kind of strange, powerful weapon, like in computer games, and a savage grin on her face. There was no doubt—she was the sorcerer!!!
Frozen with animal terror, I crawled backwards, then jumped up, darted into an archway to hide, and heard a melodious tune: the sorcerer turned out to be a music lover and, slowly walking with the deadly weapon in his hands, hummed a song. I ran out the other side of the house, fell into some strange yellow stalks, once again for some reason lying on my back, and crawled into the depth. It was terrifying. It seemed he didn’t see me.
And then I remembered that I could fly. With all my might, I flapped my arms and lifted off. I didn’t even know where I was going, I just wanted to fly far and high, but it was hard to go up. I made one more attempt until the sorcerer hummed below, and I hit my head on the ceiling of the bathroom. I realized that resistance was pointless, but fortunately, the plot ended there.
April 26, 2002 We were making love with my sister’s boyfriend. Therefore, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was my brother. But I didn’t tell him anything, just wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. He looked into my eyes and, almost without blinking, kissed me back. We had dinner, then went to a very strange place (not quite a club, though not quite a shop), and the whole time he was glued to me.