Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 14, 2015. Wednesday.



My dream involves a “Star Trek” novel, printed by hand in ink on Post-it notes. The notes are in a large pile, mostly in order at first. About three-quarters of the way through, the pages seem out of order and the last section seems flipped around.

The story comes to life, both on a television in an unknown room I am in and sometimes with me at the scene of the story as an interactive “movie” for shorter periods. I see a small poster or page from an unknown magazine of a young William Shatner which reads “Trek Star”. At first, the letters in the title seem ambiguous or intentionally displaying different words (probably “Tek War” a series of science-fiction novels created by William Shatner, ghost-written by Ron Goulart). Also, it seems like the story is supposed to be “disguised” so that people will not realize at first that it is a “Star Trek” story, though the “Trek Star” title is a rather obvious clue that it is. I see Christopher Lloyd as a Klingon at one point. I hear the name “Kirk” (though not “captain”) fairly often as if that is supposed to be another clue before it is more clearly a “Star Trek” story.

One scene where I seem to actually be present relates to an event where Kirk is on a planet and has dealings with a few Freakies (from Freakies Cereal) who are trying to help him in what seems like a possible court martial, though it looks like a normal courtroom at one point. Kirk mentions how the Freakies were not members of his crew though they seem to think they are honorary members, which is why they want to help him. The story is not that clear. It may be that the Klingons have invaded the Freakies home world.

It eventually becomes tedious to read each paragraph on each separate Post-it note (though reading in dreams is often difficult, as the writing typically changes when looking back at it). I am not sure where the stack of Post-it notes came from. When I get three-quarters in as mentioned earlier, some of the pages are also either blank or very slightly reflective bronze-colored on one side. I start to look through the rest of them but my dream loses cohesion at this point. I do carefully flip each page over onto the ones in the pile already read, which remains on the floor for the most part, though I sometimes pick it up. The remaining pages are in my left hand.

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