From: mchalmer@mcs213b.cs.umr.edu (Matthew Chalmers)
Subject: Re: Re: Recurring Locale
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1992 02:08:14 GMT
Organization: University of Missouri - Rolla

Okeigh, I've never posted a dream before. I am in a theory of personality
class and our latest assignment was to write a dream and analyze it. I am
going to type my dream here, exactly like I typed it for the class, and I
want some input on its analyzation.  I have already "analyzed" it myself,
and some of the comments that the  professor wrote on the paper were int-
eresting, so I'd like some more opinions on what the dream might mean.

First of all, I hardly ever remember my dreams.  However, when I do, they
are  remembered in MUCH  detail,  like this one.  I am a pretty  "boring"
dreamer -- usually about everyday life sorts of things instead of radical
killings and sex and  flying and  dying, etc.  And although this dream is
pretty tame,  at least in manifest content,  it is a little unusual in my
opinion.

If anyone needs to know any additional information please ask. I'd prefer 
all responses  be kept in this forum,  and not sent via  e-mail or cross-
posted in other newsgroups manually.

And now for the dream... =)

   I was in a store at a mall. I have no idea what store or even what mall
-- I had never seen this place before; I worked there, however, and this
visit I was appearantly off-duty. The place was spacious, and a large part
of this mall, like a department store. It had several distinct rooms, like
a house has, and a balcony -- a balcony which remarkably resembles the 
second floor of our university's library. The floors of this place were all
hardwood, and the walls were all of light panelling. The entire place was
very well-lit, like an art gallery, but there was nothing on any of the walls.
Most of the rooms, unlike the main section of the store, were dark, and they
were all doorless. They all contained a high-rising bed or cot, similar to
massage benches or pediatricians' beds. All these beds were positioned right
next to the doorways of the little dark rooms, and the light from outside  
hit them in such a way that they were half shadowed. All the beds were white.
   A small wooden box, about one foot cubed, was sitting on a shelf in the
open space. I didn't think anything of it until later. The dream begins with
me in this place, suddenly, as if I had turned to the middle of a book to
start reading instead of beginning at the beginning. Someone was seated at
a desk in a darker corner of the open space, doing something with some papers
on the desktop. This person looked exactly like the owner of Eclipse book-
store on Pine Street, Shirley.
   There was another woman "roaming" around the place -- or so I believed;
I never saw her at the same time as Shirley, so it's possible that they were
the same person in two different forms. This other woman, though, was very
pretty. Remarkably pretty. She was beyond beautiful -- she possessed the
most divine pulchritude i had ever witnessed. She was a couple of inches
shorter than me; she had darkened skin like that of a woman with a nice
tan; she had dark brown, almost-middle-of-her-back-length hair, and I
could not tell if it was straight or slightly curled; she had dark brown
eyes, big eyes; she was wearing all white. Her blouse did not have any
fasteners on the front, and she held it together to keep from being 
exposed. I have trouble remembering if she was wearing pants or a skirt,
and I also cannot remember if she was wearing shoes at all. She was my
age. The first time she appeared in the dream was when I was walking 
through the place, glancing in each of the rooms. I looked in a room
where she was in, lying on the bed, and she looked up at me. She had been
pretending to be asleep, and had her arms crossed in front of her, resing
her head on them. She was lying on her front side.
   The only other person in the dream was my mother. There was nothing
special or out-of-the-ordinary about her. She walked into the store holding
something upright in her left hand, like a bouquet of flowers -- but I am
not sure if they were flowers or not. She asked to have her picture taken,
because she thought she looked cute. I took her to where Shirley was,
messing with her papers, and told her my mother wanted her picture
taken. All this time my mother had an annoyingly big grin on her face, as
if she knew what was going on and thought I was clueless.
   Shirley said there was no camera, but I told her about the aforementioned
wooden box and said it was a camera. From seemingly out of nowhere now came
the pretty girl, who led my mother and I to the balcony part of this place.
She took us to one of the beds, this time in the open space instead of in
a room. This bed was bigger, too, like a large bed, and covered with   
pillows. It was all white.
   The box was already mounted on a tripod, like a camera ready to take a
picture. The pretty girl layed down on the bed on her right side, propping
herself up on her right elbow, still holding her blouse together. For some
reason my mother had disappeared. I got behind the camera like I was going
to take a picture of the girl, who, incidentally, had never smiled in
this dream. That is when I woke up.

An interesting note about this particular dream is that there was no sound.
I had fallen  asleep to the  Gregorian  Chant cd,  and I recall hearing the
chants in the background of my dream,  extremely faintly. Even though there
were people  talking in the dream,  and many other  things  happening which
should've produced some sounds, there was none.

Also, a note about the way I dream. In all the dreams I have ever been able
to recall  (except those lucid),  I have had two characters.  One is myself
which is the pawn of the dream,  and the other is myself which is the view-
the viewpoint of the dream,  the perspective.  This second self is watching
all that  happens to his body,  so to speak,  from the vantage of  slightly
behind and to the right.  The watching  self can never see the  interacting
self -- just a fuzzy blur where he should be.

Anyway, anyone who knows what they're talking about, please comment.