Puffin

Type: Regular dream.
Lucidity: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Vividness: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes:
I seem to be more motivated to record my dreams when I'm in school. Holidays and weekends, less so.

Last night, I dreamed that I was on a balcony, overlooking some sort of Caribbean-style ocean, and the time appeared to be twilight. The ocean water was mint green and blue, getting darker as it radiated out towards the horizon. I knew the balcony was right where the ocean water hit the beach; if I were to look down, I would see the sand.

There was a square night table, probably only a foot high at most, which was made out of light wood, like oak. It wasn't polished and the edges were still sharp as if it hadn't been sanded down. It was basically slabs of wood that were shaped like a small table, but in my mind (at the time, anyways) it was normal. There was one large drawer in the front of it with a basic round handle, also made of unpolished wood. I pulled it out and saw a closed laptop. It was black with thin, white rubber grips on the sides, and a silver top. There was no logo on top, so I don't know what brand or type of laptop it was.

I put it on the short table, ignoring the fact that even though the drawer was still way open, I was sitting right in front of the table as if nothing was there. I didn't close the drawer at all, but instead just sat in front of the table and opened the laptop lid. There was no sliding mechanism; I just pulled it open, and immediately it opened to an iPhoto-like program, which definitely had an Apple-like air to it. The background was dark gray, and there was a cover flow sort of picture arrangement. At that moment, my mother had just appeared beside me, so I nudged over and let her look through them.

She clicked on one photo which enlarged it, and brought the cover flow to the bottom of the screen, making it smaller. It was a picture of her ex-boyfriend.

"Look!" she said, somewhat excited.

"Mom," I told her sternly. My mom's ex-boyfriend was an abusive jerk, and I knew this even in the dream.

She moved onto the next photograph, this time one with the two of them together, making funny faces.

"Mom! I don't want you looking through these fucking pictures of him on the computer." The word choice sounded very controlling, but it didn't occur to me in the dream that there was anything wrong with it.

She clicked on another photo, and I didn't get too good of a look at it; I simply looked at her again and pushed her a bit. "Mom! Did you hear what I fucking said? Delete them!"

That's all I remember.