Lika’s Log

I don’t know if its two dreams or one it seems all disconnected yet connected. Whats the connection? Me. Whats disconnected? Me, not ok maybe; I mean the time frames, I’m not sure.

Ok Part I of the dream is:
I’m in Sears. I’m not suppose to be there. I’m wearing green camophlage? How do spell dat? Camos! The green army go to war wear. Anyway I’m in an office I shouldn’t be in and I have to use the bathroom thats way across the way so I gotta sneak thru the store since I’m not suppose to be there. So I’m ducking under clothes and stuff heading towards the bathroom. I hear a noise and I freeze under the clothing that I’m hiding. I wait and listen. Across the aisle I see a guy crawling on his belly on the floor, going the opposite direction I was going. He creeps steadily ahead making me think there’s motion detectors or something. I watch him wondering if he sees me. He continues to crawl, stops, our eyes lock for a second and he continues to move on. I move in the opposite direction continuing to hide under racks of clothes. Just as I’m about to dash across the floor I freeze cause I hear noise. A lady with big racks of clothes is coming to the area where I’m at. I can’t do anything but freeze and wait. She stocks a rack. Then she comes over to the rack I’m at. And starts removing clothes and adding clothes. I just kneel in the middle, one knee down on the ground, the other knee up, both my hands on my knee, my army camo pulled down over my eyes, I keep frozen. The store lady just continues to do her job not even paying attention to me, like I’m not even there. Next thing you know another lady comes with another rack doing stuff on the other side. Both of them are talking story, gossiping about other employees. That lady looks down at me and says to the other lady, “they really make these manicans look real nowadays.” They finish their job and leave.

Part II of the dream:
I’m in somebody’s house, I’m thinking my friend Shirley’s. We were moving stuff, going in and out of the house. The wooden front porch started to erode, like with termites kine. Each time walk in and out of the house the porch was getting worse and worse, till we couldn’t use it anymore. We had to go use the back door. Outside there was one of her brothers (she has 4 older brothers all Viet Nam Vets). He had this golf cart that was reinforced with roller bars, over it and around it. It pulled like 3 little flat beds, kind of like the airport baggage handlers use. Another brother was sitting on a bench in t he yard he has his own howitzer cannon or whatever its called. I was asking them if there was war and who are we fighting. I still had my camo’s on.

That’s all I remember. I think there was more.

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I always wonder about why I dream what I dream. Dreams are supposably stuff in your subconscious that your conscious can’t handle.

Soooooo, I can’t handle war? I’ve never been in a war war, so I don’t know. I’m not good with death and dying; people getting hurt. I’m the person who asks whats the number to 911. You would not want to die around me, I’m not good at it or I don’t think I am. I think this is from watching too much disaster stuff on TV. Information overload, dumping into my subconscious and all that psychobabble stuff. Ya’think?

I like the part about “they make manicans look so real nowadays”. Me, a manican model. Thats too funny. When my girls were real little, they would talk to the manicans in JC Penney. I use to tell them that the manicans couldn’t hear, they had to use sign language. So my kids would make up their own sign language with their hands and faces and act things out like charades. I think bachi on me yeah. *L*

So am I nuts? Where’s Dr. DreamAnalysis when you need one. *L*

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 28th, 2005 at 7:42 am and is filed under Dreams. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.