Sunday, August 26, 2012

Dream - The little blue alien that visited my mother

On Monday, October 11, 2010, around 4:00-5:20 AM, I dreamed I walked into the living room from the hallway, and saw a small gray-type alien standing in front of my mother, who looked asleep. She was sitting down, and was at the other, west, end of the room, at the far end of the house actually, in a long narrow area that in the dream ran along the end. It didn't seem to fit with the rest of the house and almost seemed an afterthought, like a filled-in carport. She was wearing a gray sweat shirt and sweat pants, and was sitting on a square couch-like area that ran around a table, with the ends of the couch against the walls, in front of a big window to the front yard area. Her head was tilted a little forward and a little to the side, her eyes closed, and she seemed to be murmuring something, repeating back what the alien was communicating to her. I'm not sure if the alien was actually speaking, or just communicating with its mind, by telepathy. They seemed to be in some kind of communion together, and I felt that they had had many such meetings before.

The alien wasn't actually gray, it was a kind of blue, almost shiny, like leather. It was probably about three feet high. Its head was huge, becoming slightly two lobed at the top, tapering down some almost in a triangular fashion, to a small neck that was relatively short. Its back was to me, and I could see only a little of the side of it. I thought at first it was the little gray kid from next door who sometimes came and talked to her (in the dream it was a human kid who sometimes came over, a little boy with short crew cut-like grayish blond hair), but the whole scene immediately disturbed me for some reason. Then I realized what it really was, an alien, and my eyes grew big.

The alien seemed to sense that something was happening and started to turn its head a little, tilting it slightly, a big black eye partly showing, then all of a sudden it was a faint blur heading my direction and a little to the side, and then fading out. It was gone in a tiny fraction of a second. If I had blinked at the wrong time I would have missed its exit, it was over so fast.

I went off after the gray (really blue) alien, following it into a dining area where several tables were located with people sitting at them. Beyond was another doorway, a large one, that the thing had apparently gone through. There seemed to be little dots of light floating in the air. I wondered if it was somehow the creature, or was maybe something connected with it using a teleportation device or dimensional portal. I swatted at them. They weren't very numerous, just occasional dots, maybe only one or a few visible at once. I felt a slight impact when connecting with them. I turned and the people at a large table there were laughing, though only some of them were looking my way. They had little laser pens and were making dots in the air. Most of the dots were toward the other end of their table. They were having fun with them, just with the making of them and also with seeing if they could confuse people. I said that I could feel it when I hit them, and swiped at the dots again a time or two. I said it a couple of times, but I'm not sure if they believed me.

I wandered off toward the front of the building. The series of rooms kept getting higher, and seemed to have wooden floors, with short transitions that sloped up to the next level. I went though a level that seemed to have something to do with the radiator shop, and then one at the end that seemed to be a house again. My father was there, looking much younger, maybe in his forties. My mother had looked much younger, too. He was talking to some people. They seemed to be minor TV or movie stars, middle aged, who had decided to take up martial arts, and were doing swinging kicks in the middle of the room, but holding on to each other so that the kicks swung way out to the side. My father was sitting on a some dark couch way out into the room, and kicks from one of the people went swinging out way over his head and behind the couch, and swinging back around. On a kick or two the kick scraped against the left-front side of my father's face; apparently it was intended to just brush it, but contacted it a little more firmly than it should have. My father had a shiny piece of thin pale flexible plastic stuck to his face in that area, and he reached up to it and complained a bit, remarking that it might have left a mark (an abrasion) on him that might take a few days to heal, and he would have to walk around like that and explain it to people.

Someone was standing on the other side of my father, a fairly short person who might have been a female, who I think had relatively short blondish hair that stuck out some at the sides, like it was poorly combed. The face of that person was also brushed by a kick, but more lightly, evidently at the planned pressure, though I was never sure whether the extra force on my father's face might not have been intentional. The person who did it remarked on it, but didn't seem to apologize. He and the person he was struggling with sometimes talked, sometimes to each other. After a while they stopped practicing and were wiping the sweat off their faces, and talking some more. I got the feeling that they were hoping to get some Stallone-like movie roles.

I went back to my mother, who had gone over toward the other side of the house, toward the bedrooms, and had gotten a very small gray alien against a small black briefcase, and wanted me to tape it down. I found some Scotch tape in a different room and came back with it. I saw though that she had lots of little aliens taped on already, one to two inches high. The first one was much smaller now, too. I wondered if they could get air, or if they even needed it.

I went looking for a magnifying glass, and went back up to the the upper levels. I tried to get back down to the lower level with a wooden staircase/ladder set in a half-size door opening, but found most of the slats broken away, and I started hanging onto the handle loop of a giant wooden basket they were slowly swinging back and forth and slowly lowering. A man, who might have been Buzz from the TV soap opera "Guiding Light", was in it singing a slow made-up song about a woman, Mary Tyler Moore maybe, who was in the hospital but he hoped would be out soon. The song was to the tune of a familiar one, I think I was thinking Auld Lang Syne, but when I woke up I realized that wasn't the one. I was hanging on to the huge arching handle of the basket, on the side near the top, as it slowly swung back and forth and slowly got lower, toward the small happy crowd below and also heading toward something else, some kind of round walled enclosure maybe five or six feet high, with something in it. The enclosure seemed to be the intended destination.

The long basket handle was fairly thin for its size, and it had a place where it was hooked together with something, a bright metal wire clasp almost like a safety pin or maybe even a paper clip, with a gap of several inches. It seemed a somewhat inadequate repair. I was holding on to the basket handle, on both sides of the clasp, hanging on. The clasp came unhooked then, basically slipped off a notch on the upper portion of the handle, and I was holding the basket handle, with one hand on each section, keeping it from separating too much. I had to go the bathroom and hoped they would hurry this up, but they seemed to be taking their time, as the basket slowly swung and very slowly got lower, and the man kept singing. It looked like it would have been better to take another route down, gone down by some other stairs, but it was too late now.

The dream had a lot more earlier in it, but I don't remember it.

I eventually mentioned to my mother that I had had a dream with her talking with an alien in the living room. She didn't like that idea.

Note: Oddly enough, at the end of the Amazing Race episode on Sunday, October 17, 2010, the two men who came in last and had to leave the race were apparently singers, and sang a slow song at the end about being last, to the tune of some Irish song that I can't remember, maybe Danny Boy but that may not be it. The song seemed eerily reminiscent of the tune in the dream, but with different words of course. The dream may have been predictive of it, almost a week before it happened.

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