Tag: sleep

a dream I had about living in a college dorm

My plan was to keep to myself and avoid interacting with people for as long as possible, but that plan got derailed the very first day. Perhaps it wasn’t actually my first day there. It didn’t seem like move-in day. Our stuff was already there. Perhaps I’d moved in over the weekend and it was the first Monday or I moved in Thursday or Friday and it was the first Saturday. Something like that.

All I know is that it was a college dorm of sorts. I say “of sorts” because, though most of the tenants were in their late teens and early twenties, some were a lot older. I remember seeing a white dude who had to be in his 50s or 60s living there. I don’t know how old I was. I could’ve been young, but probably not. I looked it though and therefore blended right in with the college crowd.

I remember my room, which was smaller but more furnished and much more colorful than my apartment in real life, being quiet at the beginning as I inspected the little area I initially thought was some kind of storage closet. There were toys and candy in there. I restrained myself from immediately opening and eating the Smarties because I didn’t want to consume all that sugar.

I figured the previous tenant left that stuff in there, but I soon realized it was a lounge slash washing machine room for not just me but all the people who lived in my section of the dorm; the first common area I came across. The first social interaction I remember was going to show my immediate neighbor; a young black guy; the room I discovered, but I don’t remember actually showing him.

I do remember walking around with a girl I met. She was laughing at the way I was referring to other people. I didn’t know or remember anybody’s name, so I gave them descriptive nicknames. I specifically remember her laughing when I pointed out Dude In Purple. She suggested a name I think for herself, but I told her it had to be one that would make sense for the whole day.

The dorm was packed. Me and the girl grew to a party of five or more as we went to a bank inside or connected to the building. I sat at the counter; my new friends stood around me; as though I was going to open an account or something. The teller was an older woman with a weird name. “That’s not really your name,” I asked jokingly, “That’s like your stage name or something.”

Everybody around me started laughing; the teller was also smiling; as I realized the insinuation of what I said. “No, no, I’m not saying you’re a stripper or anything like that,” I offered apologetically, “Maybe you were a singer.” I emphasized the word “singer” to try to turn it into an innocent question, but it was too late. The joke had been made and they were still giggling about it.

Perhaps it wasn’t a bank after all as I clearly remember the woman asking me how many miles I had on my car. I thought a little; that’s not something I generally remember; and said “about 16,000”. My car was well over a decade old, but “16,000” seemed like a lot in the dream. She even had it near the top of the chart she showed me, though “160,000” would’ve made a lot more sense.

I don’t remember much else about the dream, but it was fun. Whenever I move, I try to avoid my neighbors for as long as possible, which was my original plan in the dream, but I enjoyed breaking that rule. In fact I did nearly the exact opposite. It, in hindsight, reminded me not of college; I never actually lived in a dorm; but of high school during which I had the most friends I ever had.

2022 November 16

a dream I had about Eugene getting knocked out in class

I don’t know what Eugene was cleaning or why; it seemed either he was cleaning a mess he made or drew the metaphorical short straw for cleaning duty that day; but he had a bottle of yellow liquid that had to be some form of Lysol. I remember the strong lemony odor in the air as he sprayed it while also holding a wiping rag or paper towels.

We were in a classroom of perhaps 30 or 40 middle or high school students, one of which was a black girl I may have, like Eugene, attended school with in real life. “You bet not spray me with that,” she might’ve phrased it as Eugene, standing and walking around the room as everyone else sat, playfully put the nozzle to her face.

I didn’t think he would actually spray her, but that’s exactly what happened. “Stop,” she yelled after the fact while shooting up from her desk as if she was able to hit Eugene. I thought she would, but she didn’t. Instead she walked away presumably to grab something to wipe away the yellow liquid that was now dripping from her face.

It would’ve been funny if he’d sprayed her on the body. The fact that he sprayed her in the face seemed, as far as childish horseplay goes, to cross the line. Eugene might’ve been smiling when he did it; I don’t know; but I don’t remember anybody laughing. There may have been a few nervous chuckles, but it was kind of like… damn.

Chris Mullins; a light-skinned black or Spanish dude; obviously felt the same way as he broke the awkward silence. I don’t remember his exact words, but he was basically warning Eugene not to spray him and saying or strongly implying what would happen if he did even though Eugene, who’d continued to walk and clean, never even looked his way.

Chris Mullins; it could’ve been “Mullens”; was one of those kids who seemed considerably older than everyone else in the class and probably was; the result of being held back a few grades. There was obviously something wrong with him, off about him, mentally. As if this were a movie, the camera seemed to pan in on his crazy facial expressions.

When he stood up, we all knew, rather I and probably everyone else figured, what would happen. Eugene, a relatively small kid who fit into the normal age bracket of the class, had sat back in his seat by then. Chris, whose threats were spoken loud enough for the whole class to hear, had apparently already scared him before standing up.

Without saying anything else; in fact the room fell back into an awkward silence; he (Chris) walked over toward Eugene as I myself stood up. To help Eugene? Hell no. I don’t think any of us liked Eugene, but I didn’t want to see him get knocked out. I figured I’d use this opportunity of all heads turned their way to sneak out of class early that day.

I was too slow though as I clearly remember a third person, another big black dude, standing up apparently to either go help Chris or get a closer look. I was almost at the door, which was kitty-cornered (diagonal) to the corner of the room Eugene was sitting. I don’t think I was looking back, but I heard the punch, drop and collective gasps.

Just like that Chris knocked him out with one punch. Eugene, whose chair was backed up against the wall, limiting his escape routes and defense options, might’ve put an arm up to block it but to no avail. The kid was out cold. I can’t say I didn’t feel sorry for him as I snuck out, thru the hall, down a swirl of stairs. I guess I was going home.

2022 September 03

a dream I had about a nude white girl lying on me

It was nighttime. I was lying, not completely flat but in a reclined position, on some kind of makeshift bed; perhaps just a partly folded mattress and sheet; with my back propped against one end of what seems like an actual bunk bed. There might’ve been a TV on in front of me, but I don’t think so. The room was almost pitch black.

I say “almost” because when I was awoken by the girl, who’d been lying on the top bunk above and behind me, gently lying herself (perpendicular) across my lap, I could see she was nude. She was white, or Caucasian, so her skin reflected whatever little moonlight or street light there may have been shining in thru the window.

Our sleeping arrangement had been completely platonic; she was college age and it seemed we barely knew each other; so to say I was pleasantly surprised would be a major understatement. My first thought was that she’d half-awaken, stumbled to the bathroom to pee or something, and simply lay on me by mistake, thinking it was the bunk.

My second thought was that she did it on purpose to seduce me. After just a few seconds, however, she got up and started to go back to the top bunk. If my first thought was correct, it meant she made an embarrassing faux pas, but if my second thought was correct, it meant she was disappointed by the fact that I seemed to be asleep.

Either way I was going to tell her, half jokingly, to come back. If she giggled and stayed up there, my first thought would be confirmed. The worst-case scenario for me was for my second thought to be correct and not say anything. I was, in fact, asleep but not fully asleep. My eyes had been open enough to see her, but I couldn’t speak.

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t utter a word. I was telling her to come back in my mind, but I wasn’t actually saying anything. It was like when I was a kid and used to wake up unable to move, except in this case I couldn’t talk. That is until the words finally came out. “Come back,” I grunted with stroke-like inflections. “Back” sounded like “bock”.

I think she did giggle, but I don’t remember for sure. All I know is that I was going to leave it at that, but, after a few seconds, it happened again. This time she came down and lay across me not perpendicular on her side but to an angle on her stomach, with her leg touching my right arm. She was still nude, still white and still beautiful.

If she lay the opposite way, I probably would’ve stroked her long blonde hair, but all I could reach without moving was her legs and ass, so I started rubbing her leg. Her skin felt so soft and creamy. She didn’t react. She just continued to lay there as my dick started to wake up to see what was going on. That’s unfortunately when I awoke.

2022 May 29