Fear Of Flying

I'm sitting on a plane about to take off. I decide to use the bathroom, as I see other people are doing it, and seems like I have time. I go to the one at the back of the plane, and just as I go through the door, the plane starts to taxi down the runway. I decide that the best thing to do is just sit down and wait until we're in the air. But something seems to go wrong--the plane suddenly goes into a barrel roll (which I ride out by walking up the walls, across the ceiling, and back down the other wall). An announcement is made over the plane's PA system that the plane will be making an emergency landing back on the runway.

Later, in a lawyers office, I am being debriefed about the incident. She says, "There's no way this could have happened unless someone was in the bathroom at the back of the plane at the time of takeoff." It is something about the weight of the plane being out of balance. I say to her, yes, that is exactly what happened, it was me (after all, who could blame me for that? How could I know?). She says, no, if that had happened the flight attendants would have seen the alerts go off. I insist that I was in the back of the plane when we took off. She says no, that is not what happened.

Long Narratives I Can't Remember

A large villa in Mexico with a mysterious woman whose body is entirely painted blue.

Strange Powers

L. and I are sitting on a couch watching tv when I realize I'm dreaming and start exercising my whims on things in the dream. The person on the tv starts saying what's in my head and L. turns to me and says, "Hey, that's exactly what you would have said." This suddenly strikes me as an incongruity: I'm dreaming, but L. is seeing what I'm dreaming, which can't be. We wander through a variety of settings where I try various ways of exercising my in-dream powers, and she experiences them all as if they were real. We wind up in a theater-like setting watching some sort of game show-like production. The host at some point realizes that he is merely a puppet and has no free will of his own, and collapses into existential crisis. I try to placate him by telling him that it's okay, he's just a character in my dream, but he still "exists" in some sense of the word. I realize that this is just making him more upset.

Joke Gone Awry

S. has staged an elaborate practical joke of some kind, the aim of which is to photograph me either holding a wooden stake or appearing to be staked (as if I were a vampire). In aid of this he and an accomplice lure me into some kind of academic office building, where everyone is in on the joke. They chase me around and try to capture the desired photo. When I finally realize the plot, I am indignant and hurt. Why would S. do this to me?