Pretty in Pink

This is a dream I had just now. Quite a complex one.

It starts off — I am a king with a crown and a bushy brown beard. Everyone and evetything obeys me. I order time to stop. It does. Nobody gets older, nobody dies. People are furious and are rebelling. I don't know how to turn it back. Then I hear my mother shouting "Somtow" as though she were scolding me for being naughty.

I wake up and I am first taking a pee and going back into my dream (I don't know if that was real or not) but I am on a high balcony in a house next to my house … these are detached houses with green lawns, very suburban, rather New England looking somehow. The houses are red brick with orange roof tiles.

I look and see that Mike has thrown two newspaper-sized books onto the grass which are both pink.

The next thing I know is that I have woken up but I'm still inside a dream because I am going down to breakfast and breakfast is at an outdoor table on the grass, and I see the two pink books but they are not lying where I thought they would be in my dream within that dream. I am having breakfast with a child of mine who I do not know, a child named Bill. (I do not have a child by that name.) 

I'm telling him about the dream about Mike throwing the pink books, but in the dream Mike's younger and he is a boy. And I keep calling Mike by a different name. I'm very frustrated about it. The pink books lying in the grass in the wrong side of the house from the dream, this is somehow very important to me in the dream, but I don't know why. And these three dreams are all nested inside one another.