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July 1999

Jul 12 - Jul 15



July 12, 1999

I was standing on a dock in one of those places where people live in boats and hook their yachts/boats up to. The part of the dock I was standing on was a 10 x 8 eight piece with 2 x 6’s slatted across. This section of the dock was attached to a stairway that stretched upward and away from the water like one of those adjustable stairways that got steeper as the tide went out. I remember seeing the scene of what was happening from atop the stairway leading down onto the dock, although it was me standing on the dock below. I think there was someone standing there with me on the dock but I don’t know who, although I’m pretty sure it was a guy. There was a boat to the left of us, about a 18-foot craft like the Bayliner my folks used to own. It was approaching the dock and there were two guys on the boat, one of them probably being on the bow. At this point I noticed something large, like a ferry or some other type of large water craft, approaching the dock from straight out in front of me. I had the feeling that this boat/ship was going to crash into the dock, so I ran up the sloped stairway to avoid getting smashed when the ferry hit the dock. When I had reached the top or near the end of the stairway, I looked back to the ferry and saw that it had stopped. There may have been a crashing sound or a brake-stopping sound that indicated to me that the ferry had stopped and had not crashed into the dock, but I can’t remember for sure. The ferry was large. All I can really remember about it is its dark, black curved front that was 40 feet wide and facing the dock. The ferry had stopped at 10 to 15 feet in front of the part of the dock I had been standing on so I walked back down to stand on the dock I once had been. I was then fishing and so was the guy standing next to me. That guy tossed his line into the water and I think it was just a hook he had and no bait, but instantly he hooked a large salmon. He yanked on his rod (the fishing pole you dirty-minded pervert) and this lifted the salmon out of the water and onto the dock. For some reason, the guy then yanked on his line again and tossed the salmon back into the water. This allowed the salmon to shake loose of the hook and swim away. I distinctly remember seeing the fish swim and glide away into the depths. We continued fishing and one of us, I’m pretty sure it was me, then hooked a frog. I grabbed the frog and looked at it and could clearly see the steel hook curving upward into its mouth and out through the roof of its mouth by where its nostrils were. Not interested in keeping a frog, I managed to pry the hook free then I tossed the frog back into the water. I watched as it sank into the clear depths below the dock. As it sank, there was an octopus watching it from above. This octopus was about 2½ feet round and was the usual red color you (or I anyway) always imagine octopi to be. It was floating just below the surface of the water at the edge of the dock. The frog sank into the water below and quickly the octopus started following it down as if meaning to snatch it up and eat it. When the octopus had descended about four or five feet, it seemed to change its mind and it retreated back to the surface of the water, leaving the frog to sink to the bottom of the 10-feet deep water. In the water there I suddenly noticed numerous tiny baby frogs frolicking about. There were 30 or so baby frogs and although they didn’t look exactly like baby frogs, being distorted and all because this was a dream, I knew that they were baby frogs. These little frogs were each the size of a piece of popcorn and they were all different colors. The colors of these baby frogs were bright blue, red, green, and yellow. They swam nonchalantly just below the surface of the water so I bent over and scooped up a handful of them. I remember feeling their little bright, colorful bodies wriggling in my hand as I watched them.


July 15, 1999

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I was in a sleeping bag lying on the floor of Ron’s old house he used to own off of 138th and Pacific Avenues. I think I was lying on the floor by where his stereo used to be, by the front door. I was kind of confused, wondering where I was, so I started wriggling my way out of the sleeping bag to look at the outside world. It was around this time that I started waking up and I realized that I actually was in a sleeping bag, only I was not in Ron’s old house, I was in my tent and was camping at Mt. Rainier.
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I was at a school that reminded me of either the elementary school I went to or the junior high I attended. Although this place was a school I had attended earlier in life, in this dream it was my place of employment. There was a morning meeting that took place at 8 a.m. in one of the classrooms and I was late for it. It was one of those early morning meetings that engineers always attend to discuss what the hell’s going on in the work place that particular day. I was supposed to be in this meeting but as I said before, I was late because I had overslept or something like that. I didn’t want to walk in and disrupt the meeting because I knew that if I did then everyone would look at me and I didn’t want that because my hair was messed up; apparently I hadn’t combed it yet after waking up and I knew I must have looked pretty tired too. Therefore, I just paced back and forth in the hallway outside the room, occasionally looking in at the people. I remember seeing a woman with dark shoulder-length hair at the front of the classroom and numerous people sitting in desks that she was talking to. I noticed on a clock somewhere that it was 8:30, and since this is what time the meeting was due to get over with anyway, this further strengthened my desire to not walk into that room. Since the meeting was probably going to be over at any second, I decided to just go straight to my work space instead. As I stood there contemplating that, I think Helmer Stink was with me.

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