Night of August 11, 1985. Sunday.

I am sleeping in my brother's basement apartment (in reality as well). The music video to the song "Love is the Seventh Wave" is somehow showing on nearly the entire wall to the left of the staircase that goes upstairs (where an unrelated family whom my brother rented the area from is living). It is much longer than the real one, and I slowly "wake" within my dream. I get the impression though, that it is (at one point) showing the ghosts of children moving on to another area within the wall (implied to be behind and beyond it). I am not sure where the music is coming from; seemingly a radio. This was one of those very rare songs that has stayed with me with more clarity.

As in real life the small back-and-white television has a small green blob in the center of the screen. It seems to imply some sort of eerie radiation - or maybe even a green entity (or in a green cloak) that brings illness. My perception is different in this place even in reality but I am not sure why. Dennis puts some lighter fuel in his mouth (without swallowing any of course) and blows it out over a cigarette lighter set to the highest flame. A large temporary fireball is the result. He finds it as amusing as he does in real life.

There is a shift where water is running in the bathroom (with very clear loud sound) for what seems like a very long time - it is actually a male relieving himself but with a more even continuous sound that seems to go on "forever". I soon am aware that it is me - or actually - another version of me, though I do not see this "other me" at any time. A very old version of the "mystery girl", possibly around seventy, stands in the small hallway frowning as if she disapproves of how long I am taking in the bathroom. She is seemingly married to the other me, but I doubt I would ever live in a basement (or even be in one for very long due to the odd perceptual change in this particular one). I get a vague impression we (or rather she and the other me) are going to go on a long train journey. At this point, Dennis does not seem to be a tenant. I feel as if it is during the last weeks of my life but am not certain of how old I am supposed to be. I am contemplating whether or not she is aware of the "real" (dream viewpoint) me (I am on the opposite side of the apartment from the bathroom off the short hallway) as she does turn her head towards me at least once though does not say anything.