I drove with my family through my old neighborhood in Mission Hills. It was night, the whole town was on fire. I walked into my old house and slowly began gathering up my belongings. I lingered for a long time, as long as I could before it started to collapse.
From 12/8:

• I was playing World of Warcraft again, this time in the physical company of a group of people supporting me. I ran around for a while.

I was standing on a ledge overlooking an expanse of ground. I could make out vaious figures below me.

I saw a snake approaching a sleeping form. I thought it was Gandalf; my entire party and I started yelling his name to wake him up. After a while, a projection of his face and hands appeared in the air in front of us. He was irritated we bothered him; he was not the sleeping figure.

• Someone I knew woke up at the bottom of a grassy ravine. He was stuck in some perilous fantasy world as a result of my actions.

He scrambled up the side of the ravine until he reached a patch of tall grasses. There was a baby gorilla staring at him from within the grass. They froze and considered each other. The man started talking soothingly to the gorilla and it started responding in a lilting, childlike voice.

The man asked it its name and it replied "Amber."

"[in an English accent] Amber! My friends know about you."

Amber made a comment about how gorillas discuss such matters as how best to open coconuts and then my phone range and woke me up.

• I was at Chin's [a Chinese restaurant by my house] with my parents. We finished eating and instead of boxing up the leftovers, the water allowed us to take our plates and silverware with us.

When we went to the register to pay, the cashier started boxing up our food. I was disappointed.

Outside, I was talking to someone about how Brent Spiner and LeVar Burton were discriminated against for their conservative views because they were newcomers to Star Trek. I emphatically agreed.

From last night:

• I don't remember if it was me or someone else recounting the story, but someone was talking about how they shot a mountain lion.

They were made to wait in a hole in the ground all night until it appeared. When it did, the mountain lion spotted him/me , grinned widely and said something threatening and nefarious. The person in the hole trained their laser-sighted shotgun on the lion and fired, killing it.

• I went to a church group on Sundays, where people gathered in a large building to visit and watch services.

Every Sunday, before the program began, I would bare-knuckle box another person on stage. I was undefeated and had a nickname like "The R---."

I had arrived with my mother an hour early. I was trying to prepare myself psychologically for my fight.

In the bathroom, I encountered my opponent. He was old, in his early fifties, but sour and mean-looking.

There was a gym within the church group's building. I was walking through and heard a group of middle-aged men discussing Scripps Ranch [the place where I grew up]. They were complaining that it was considered a backwater suburb with no political clout. I told them it was true and they were displeased.

I was browsing the church's website when I found summaries of many of my previous fights. I read them over briefly and with satisfaction; the writer commented on my "tiny hands."

It was time for me to change into my fighting clothes, which happened to be my workout clothes. I was pumping myself up, chanting my nickname and pacing around when a guy entered the room. He was a personal trainer, very affable, and I wondered why he never entered the fight.

The whole dream, I was in a strange limbo - I kept thinking to myself that I wasn't even very religious, but I was devoted to boxing. I went through the motions on autopilot.

The fight itself was not part of my dream.
• I possessed a vial filled with water. In the water swam hundreds of cladocerans, small, aquatic invertebrates that look like pale, swimming dots. I was faced with some kind of crisis (I didn't write my dreams down this morning, the details are hazy) and received guidance that I should enter into the world of the cladocerans. Reducing myself to their rudimentary biological functions would strip me of my sense of identity, the thing that was impeding my ability to find a solution to my problem.

• I drove a car at breakneck speeds through nighttime streets, arriving at a dirt trail that led into the dark. I got out of the car and walked down the path, into a canyon and up onto a ridge overlooking the city. I sat on the ridge and watched fireworks being launched from a military base below as part of an experiment.

There were other people with me. We were in a kind of residence on the ridge, open on one side to the view and filled with various mismatched belongings that seemed like they were assembled from the backs of people's cupboards or the shelves of Goodwill. Sitting out on a counter was an open vial partially filled with a liquid that resembled egg nog. I realized it was alcohol, hesitated momentarily and decided to drink it. It tasted like egg nog. There was an assortment of different liquors placed around the residence and I drank as much as I could find, all of it sweet except for a glass of stinging vodka.