I was travelling by stolen motorcycle across the country. I stopped at a Motel, which was more like a hostel, but with the prices and services of a motel. The room I was staying in had a good cross section of societies’ misfits, and they all hated each other. I was feeling really claustrophobic, so decided to wander the place.Every room was the same, all a cross section of society, but in somerooms they were getting along so well that it was one big giant orgy,in others they were killing each other, and in some of those rooms itwas quite gory, with body parts and pieces all over the room.At the end of one hall I found a large clear plastic dome attached tothe wall, kind of like the Dice bouncer in the board game Sorry. For some un-explicable reason I ran full speed into it and heard itclick, and this wave of energy shot out in all directions.At that moment Hundreds of things just started going “pop” anddisappearing. People, plants, objects, cars, etc. And the world descended into some kind of chaos. The TV on the wall next to theplastic dome was showing scenes from around the world. In some placespure mayhem was breaking out, in others it was Nirvana. Trains were derailing, planes falling from the sky, sometimes just people fallingfrom the sky because the plane had disappeared.I started getting really nervous, and ran and hit the button again totry to reverse the damage. It just seemed to change it slightly. This time all animals had disappeared, leaving only humans and theircreations.The next time all women disappeared.The time after that all personal possessions and all manmade creations disappeared, with the exception of buildings.I ran back to my room to find it empty, save for one punk girl whowas scarring herself with a knife. When I walked in she looked up,smiled and then lunged for my throat.

I was living somewhere out in the country, and my mobile phone rang while I was out walking. Kirsty was calling to tell me to come home, as she had fantastic news. I rushed home to be told that I need to get on a train, because I had won tickets to see Nine Inch Nails live. So I rushed to the train station. As I ran out the door Kirsty said her friend would meet me as there was a surprise.

When I got to the station, Kirsty’s friend told me that the surprise was that I got to meet the band, because they were on the same train, going to the show. So I got to hang out with them before the show, and backstage before and after the show, and then hang out the next day with them, as they were sticking around for a few days.

The train came and I eagerly jumped on to go meet the band. They were all great guys, but there was no sign of Trent Reznor. He was “occupied” on another part of the train and would be around shortly. So I sat and chatted with the band about every little topic that came up. Trent finally appeared, just before we got to the arena and said to me “Hi Ross, would you care for some salad? Coleslaw?”

I declined the food offer, and we disembarked the train. Trent disappeared again, and I spent the rest of the pre-show time chatting with the band, and hanging out with a few other contest winners. 5 minutes before the show, Trent came back and said “Hi Ross, would you care for some salad? Coleslaw?” Once again I declined the offer, and then we were all ushered out of the room so the band could get ready for the show.

This dream was epic - and not very clear upon waking… but the gist of it was that America was being invaded by Germans (not WWII Germans - modern Germans.) I think I was enlisted in a volunteer army. When the Germans got there (they arrived on a train) - I was standing on a platform with my fellow countrypersons and the Germans gathered us all up and told us to make candleholders out of popsicle sticks. I remember thinking that the Germans weren’t so bad and that maybe being taken over wasn’t going to be bad. I was talking to an Indian German and it ended up that he was born in New York, like me. We got to talking and got along really well.

Things ended up going downhill though and the American forces were invading the area where we were being held. We were supposed to lay down on the ground and I remember trying to hide behind a pipe so the Americans didn’t shoot me accidentally.

Later, I was trying to rescue a little girl from the war and I had to run around the corner outside a building and I made it to the troops who were waiting for us and hid behind a horse.

I was in bed in the back of the van, Ross was driving and Brent was in the passenger seat. Brent’s sunglasses were broken, and I told him to pass them to me, so I could take a look at them, and maybe fix them. Brent climbed back and handed me the glasses. I was looking at them, and said something about how the pin in the side needed to be replaced. Ross climbed back to have a look, and as he was examining the glasses, I realized that no one was driving the van. We were still traveling at highway speed, but I couldn’t see out the windshield, so I had no idea if we were about to hit something. Suddenly there was a siren, and there was a cop behind us. I told Ross and Brent to quickly get back in front, maybe the cop didn’t see that no one was driving. Ross said that they’d just tell the cop that I was ill with chicken pox, so they needed to get me to a doctor. I told him no, just tell him that I am not feeling well, but don’t be specific. The van stopped, and the cop pulled in behind and stopped. I looked out the window and saw that we were on 522, south of Berkeley Springs. The cop got out, and as he walked around to the front of the van, I slipped out the back door. The cop heard the back door close and came back to look. As he came back around, Ross started the van and pulled away, heading north. The cop wasn’t sure if he should go after me or the van. I turned to walk south, so he couldn’t follow us both. As I was walking, an old pickup truck pulled slowly by me, which was good because it was between me and the cop. The pickup was pulling a long camping trailer, with another trailer behind the first. The pickup slowed down when the first trailer was next to me, and someone was at the door and they said come in here and hide with us. The door wouldn’t open though, so they pulled the screen out of the window, and I tried to climb up, and they pulled me into the window. I felt good that I was getting away from the cop, but then I looked around, and there were some very strange people in this trailer, and it wasn’t a comfortable camping trailer like it seemed from the outside, but bare walls with chipped dull green paint, and a metal floor with straw on it. I was pushed back into a corner with three other people, and was slowly realizing that I might have just been shanghaied. It seemed that these people were part of a circus, and they were holding several others captive. In the corner with me there was a beautiful woman, a good looking guy with dark hair, and a guy who looked like he might have had downs syndrome. In the other corner, there were three guys who looked very much alike, and I couldn’t tell if they were also captives, or if they were part of the other group. After a little while, there was some talking, and I heard that the three guys who looked alike were brothers and also captives, but they stuck together, so no one messed with them too much. I thought maybe if the three people in my corner and I could learn to trust each other and stick together, we also might fare better. Someone shoved a really small man in a colorful jockey suit to the floor and pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. The guy with the gun said, “He tried to bury us, but he didn’t know we had a gun.” And it was clear that he was about to shoot the small man, so I grabbed some canvas from the floor, and pulled it over myself like bedcovers so I wouldn’t have to watch, and the beautiful woman was under the covers with me. I wondered how much I could trust her as I heard the gun go off. The man with the gun came over and I pulled the canvas down so I could see him. He said, “Did you see what just happened?” and I said that I hadn’t, thinking that if I pretended I didn’t know about it, he wouldn’t consider me a witness. He said, “A man was just shot in the head. By me! To be eaten!” And then I figured it didn’t matter that I hadn’t watched. I looked over at the small man on the floor, and he started moving even though he had been shot in the head. He crawled over to a small chest and opened it. He took a makeup kit out of the chest and started applying clown makeup. The guy who shot him said, “Look, Tiny thinks he’s going to be in the next performance! But everyone is eaten in order of usefulness, no exceptions.” I asked the guy with the gun if Tiny had really tried to bury them, and if so, how big was the hole? The beautiful woman saw that there was some Christmas wrapping paper on a low table not too far away from us. She seemed kind of encouraged and excited that there might be presents. I tried to explain how the wrapping paper might have gotten there, that it had nothing to do with Christmas, it was probably just surplus material from a second hand store. A midget came and grabbed the wrapping paper and started unravelling it and folding it to make props for the next performance. Someone was constructing what they called a bomb which would make a loud noise and smoke during the performance for dramatic effect. We must have arrived at our destination, because he went out the door to place it in the arena. Suddenly there was a loud bang, and the midget came stumbling back in. He said, “The guards are fixed, and someone set the bomb off early to try to ruin the show. The faithfuls are to be buried, lest they be discovered and freed.” And by faithfuls, he meant us, the captives. We were in an area of Kentucky that had a lot of labor unions and a lot of communists, and the circus was very anti-labor, but they came here anyway because the bosses and factory owners in the area gave away five cent glasses of tea to all comers, so attendance was very high even though they had to lower ticket prices. I tried to reassure the beautiful woman and the two guys in my corner, even though it looked like we would be buried in a large metal box for the duration of the show. I thought maybe we would be discovered by some union organizers who might be snooping around looking for converts. I suddenly realized that everyone here was a cannibal, including us since we had to eat what was given us. But we were forced into it.

The beginning of the dream is not clear, but I ended up in a job where I had to monitor the loading of people onto a train. The people were non-resident aliens, and they were being transported for execution. But in this job, I was able to divert about half of the aliens onto another train so they would not be executed. Some other organization selected a number of the people who I should save and gave me profiles of each with photographs so I could pick them out of the line. I could use my own judgement to save some others, based on a quick first impression as the people walked by. I would point at people and direct them to another train platform. At first I felt good that I was able to save about half the people, but then I suddenly wondered at the morality of my ability to arbitrarily pick people out of a crowd, and save them while letting the others die.

A man was standing off to the side, making comments about the people and laughing. I told him to shut up. He said I couldn’t tell him what to do. I said, “Have you no soul? These are human beings!” He said, “They’re just non-resident aliens, what’s the big deal?” I told him he’d better shut up and get the hell out of the area. He told me I didn’t have the authority to order him around. I told him I did. I called to the gaurd, and I said, “If I tell you to stab this man in the neck, or to move him out of the area, you would do it wouldn’t you?” Her answer was to walk up to the guy and plunge her knife into his neck. He grabbed at his neck with a look of surprise as blood spurted out, then fell to the ground dead. I wished I had asked the guard that question without using neck stabbing as an example action.

I had a dream that I won a tiny house. The place where I won it tried to convince me that it was so small, I should just cash it in and try my luck at winning a bigger house. But I was happy with my tiny prize.

i haven’t had any memorable dreams for a while. It figures - you start a dream blog and BAM! Nothing! If any visitors are interested in guest-blogging please let me know. Only criteria is that is has to be a current dream - not some crap you remember from 8th grade.

I had a night full of vague nightmares involving being tortured for information. I think the torture was being headed up by my mom for some reason. I don’t even recall if I had the information or not. I recall seeing footage of a city in Turkey being destroyed by a nuclear-style blast, but am not sure how this fits in. After days of torture, I became despondent and unresponsive and semi-catatonic. At one point I was locked outdoors for several days in a chainlink cage in the sun as my cell.

For some reason I was brought to a hair salon to get me cleaned up and it was the first time I was away from my captors. The hairdresser remarked that I looked pretty rough and asked what happened. My despondent demeanor turned into sobbing as it was the first time someone had expressed any interest in my well-being in weeks. The hairdresser just looked confused and my captor swooped in and carried me back as I was drawing too much attention.

In lieu of having any actual memorable dreams (I vaguely remember something about being a counselor in a summer camp and helping the Muslim kids stage some religious play)…

more details about the Hitler Quarter…

In my dream, I was actually trying to prove that it existed and to warn the holder that they were in danger and that the CIA wanted it back and were willing to kill the holder. This entailed a blurry trip through several neighborhoods and finally a ride on a yellow school bus. There were a bunch of kids on the bus and one had this spikey ball that contained a bomb. The bomb would go off if enough force hit it, but the soft spikes protected it for general handling. He was messing around and dropping it. I was nervously watching him. He dropped it like 3 times and it didn’t go off and his friend was yelling at him to stop.

Suddenly an old woman 2 seats in front of me turned around and said, “Here! You want it??” and threw the Hitler quarter at me. I caught it briefly, long enough to get a look at it, then threw it on the floor and said, “I don’t want it - you need to get rid of it!”

Just then the bomb went off and the bus veered out of control. Chance was sitting next to me and I started making out with him and then I said, “Before I die, I have to tell you…”

but we crashed into a wall and I woke up.

Legend has it that in the 1920s, the United States was in the process of creating a quarter to honor Adolph Hitler, in recognition of the good steps he’d taken in putting Germany on the straight and narrow after WWI. However, the government finally figured out that Hitler wasn’t following the restrictions and abandoned the idea of the coin. However, one single prototype is rumored to exist.