From June: Alarm clock haiku

Woke up thinking of an alarm clock haiku:

Over-ripe time fruit
Explodes, splattering loud noise
Onto the morning.

(Side note: I'm actually pretty glad that real fruit doesn't explode. Dream logic, though.)

Evil objects

I dreamed there was an object that embodied all the evil in the world, and that it kept being passed from person to person and was sometimes inherited through families. It changed form once you either recognized or tried to destroy it. It couldn't be destroyed completely, but could be rendered temporarily powerless and could be contained.

First it was a teddy bear belonging to a little girl. The stuffed animal roused suspicion because it would suddenly have an angry expression on its face, or it would be hanging from a lamp and nobody had set it up that way, or the family would start getting threatening phone calls with no return number.

When they discovered it was the teddy bear, it morphed into a baby bunny that was so cute that nobody wanted to kill it. But someone threw a rock at it and then it turned into a telescope. If you looked into the telescope, it would show you a vision of how you would die. The trick was to avoid the temptation of looking, no matter how curious you were, and then you would win.

After it was a telescope, it transformed into a beautiful, enormous painting that almost covered a whole wall. That painting had to be slashed to ribbons. If anyone photographed or tried to replicate it, it would keep its power even if slashed up. That was a challenge for people because it was so gorgeous. But the family stabbed the painting and the canvas turned completely black.

Then it turned into a collection of clothing. That was more difficult because it had separated into multiple objects, but each had less power separately than they would together. So the family bagged them all up, stored them in the attic, and forbade anyone from ever putting on those clothes or opening the bags.

Then I woke up and was disappointed; I wanted to see how it would progress. I am probably going to look with suspicion at every inanimate object for the next 24 hours or so.

The 1996 Room

I just woke up from a dream about a restaurant in which the main room was ordinary, while the one beside it included all the same patrons--but from 20 years in the past. Both rooms were lined with mirrors. The mirrors in the main room showed the reflections from the past, while the past room showed their reflections from the future (or, rather, the present). Most of the waitstaff had to avoid the 1996 room, but a few servers who were trained in time travel could work in there.

I told Mike about this and said, "That just worries me. In that dream world, not only does a waitstaff position require a college degree, but the job description also demands you be proficient in time travel?"

He responded, "The application reads 'Must provide own Tardis.'"

Dammit dream world, please do your job. I go to you to find alternate realities, not more exaggerated versions of this one!

My dreams are becoming more Freudian.

Last night I dreamed about an anxious mind taking the form of a haunted house. Each room was a separate lobe in the brain representing its own fear or memory. The doors that connected them were linked thoughts.
              I guess we do carry our homes around, but we don't always have to be stuck in the same rooms. We can renovate.