Showing posts with label navy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label navy. Show all posts

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Dreamlog/6.8.09/ Out to Sea/Past International Dateline: Berthing "cleandalism"


It all starts off in a berthing.



Early in the morning, people are waking up, and getting ready to have a "fine navy day".



I'm aware that the berthing is different from the normal berthing that I was put in, but I pay no mind. I hear the repetitive morning hustle and bustle, but I fly "under the radar".



Flat Black spray paint appears in my hand, and groggily, I put my name up on a stuccoed wall.



I write my name, horribly, lacking much needed effort. I do not intend to write good - at all.



Then I think to my self "Oh shit! Why did I do that?



I try smearing it. I paint over it yet clearly see what was supposed to be covered up.



I hide the paint in someone else's area, and continue on pretending to clean. I look for a sponge to smear the urban scrawl before it dries.





As I find one and head back to clean it up, I see our "Berthing Petty Officer" painting over it. Accepting his sorry life, he cleans without a complaint.



I feel bad, but carry on. ...and I'm awake again... actually getting ready for a shitty day out to sea.



Thursday, May 6, 2010

Dreamlog/7.20.09/Out to Sea: Boat Trash

I'm working on a naval vessel.


I'm back in waste management. It's what the Navy calls "the trash room".


Reynolds (not Ryan),

shows up with a different name tag on his uniform.
His last name now starts with a "W".


No, a respectable "W" .


There are a few more people working there with us.


Because of the people there, he says that he'll explain later, refering to why he has a different last name.


So I exit the trash room, and head out to the hangar bay.


...and, I'm awake again.

Friday, April 30, 2010

Dreamlog/7.22.09/Out to Sea: Back To School

Ryan was a carpenter...


No not that Carpenter!...


We were in a warehouse sized room below a high school.


He was happy there.



He was making these huge tables out of pine.



We talked for a bit. I proceeded to go out from the building, to the hallway that lead to the inside commons area of my first high school.



It was bigger in the dream though. I turned the corner and started to give a woman who worked at the school a foot massage.



We were on the steps going up to the second floor as the 'carpentry warehouse' was below ground we were between the first and second floors. There were Three floors above the warehouse. I am suddenly near the administrative side.



I find out that I am enrolled in high school again due to a mixup in my high school credits.



I get the feeling that this is a normal thing to them, but am discouraged that they let this slip.



...and I'm awake again.


*During this time, I was awaiting a discharge from the NAVY and couldn't wait to get out and get back in to college.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

About The Dreamlog


(As if read by Shatner) Looking back... at... sometime, Back! In the,,, day: I use to... have this friend. (End Shatneresqueness) He was my best friend for about six or seven years and I've never had a lifetime friend. Most of the "friends" that I had were always caught up in drugs, drug runs or just wanted to party forever.


I went on knowing that I wasn't gonna live forever and wouldn't get anywhere hanging around these guys. Even though ambition came later for me, it came back. My friend who will be called "O'jay" in this story, lost the ambition in life to follow through with more conscious pursuits to better himself forever. His current status on the totem pole of life is - He who doesn't want to grow up, but wants to be a famous dance music producer. He never graduated high school, and has no ambition to do anything other than be a party superstar.


He was always full of great idea's but rarely capable of following through with the majority of them. He was always busy daydreaming and taking naps for his spiritual belief that naps were his way to living a better life. I like naps too but I don't need them every day.


Well O'jay used to write his dreams down in a little notebook, back before we all had laptops and blogs. He would write them down because if he didn't, he would forget them. He would ask anyone if they wanted to hear the dreams throughout the rest of the day, or at any group gathering of friends.

A phone call loosely based on what I can remember:

O'jay: (usually crunching on cereal)... Hello?

Sailor: Hey.

O'jay: (Still crunching)... Yowe!

Sailor: What are you doing?

O'jay: (Almost choking) Eating cereal. Hee-hee-hee-hee! I almost choked.


Sailor: I can hear that, but...what else are you doing?

O'jay: Oh, hee-hee-hee!... Just here, eating cereal... and drinking (four gulps are heard)... water.


Sailor: Ahh-huh.... So, what are we gonna do today?


O'jay: I don't know, what do you wanna do?


Sailor: Whatever dude, I don't work tomorrow. Wanna smoke?


O'jay: Uhhh. Yeah I gue... OH YEAH!!


Sailor: What?...


O'jay: (Gulp, gulp, gulp)...Dude I had this crazy dream.
I wrote it down too. You wanna hear it?


Sailor: (knowing he already wrote it down) Go.


O'jay: Well hold on, let me go upstairs and get my notebook.


Sailor: Yeah, cool.


O'jay: Hold on okay?


Sailor: Yeah dude, go!


O'jay: Okay...... hold on. (puts phone down)

So, I always said yes and never had trouble picturing the descriptions or transitions to any of his dreams. I would tell him mine and we'd discuss all of the crazy things that we had dreamt of before. He was always amazed that my long term memory was so good and that I could sometimes recall dreams from years before.


During my Navy times deployed out in the ocean I noticed that my dreams were more different than usual: so I started to write them down on a little notepad every time I woke up. I wouldn't remember them as often as before. I don't know if that had anything to do with sleeping in a bed the size of a coffin, a rocking boat and countless groundhog days, or exceeding the recommended dosage of melatonin on a normal basis to stay sane. Normally I really like sleep but while deployed in the Navy I LOOOOOVED sleep! What better way to fast forward through six miserable months of deployment, and five horrible years of my life.


Ladies and Gents, I give to you the Dreamlog. An attempt to present as best as my writing skills can, a few dreams here and there from my past and present. As often as I happen to have them I will do my best to keep you entertained. So that's the lengthy explanation of any posts entitled - Dreamlog, and then: something, something.


The short explanation you ask?... Entry with the word: Dreamlog = dreams. Have fun reading.