what do you think it means when you dream of big white manta rays called visitors

so
i was standing in the surf
and david wolfe was showing me
i guess they were bamboo roots
maybe
like these really amazing things
i have a bong made out of one
and i just recently saw
what i think was an old chinese opium pipe made from one
but he was showing me how to cut them
and get food from them
and then i saw the rays
and they probably weren't really mantas
they weren't that big
and they were rounder
and i lay down in the water
floating on my back
and they swam up to me
but
you know they look more like they're flying
so i was in the middle
and one flew up to me
i mean
one on each side of me
slightly over me
at the surface of the water
they overlapped me
and something
some energy
shot into me
binding
joining
in some way
that continued
beyond the physical
and there was more
there was something
about
about body heat
about one hundred degrees
but i can't remember
it doesn't make sense to me
and he said:
you've been touched by the visitors

last night i woke up in the middle of the night & wrote down my dream so it's like two night's in one

the first
i was sitting in a lake
around me were signs
signs with beautiful pictures of mountain sunsets
moving pictures
and i was happy and peaceful in the lake
but then i realized that i couldn't see
what was beneath the surface
and i started to get scared
but there was a tibetan monk there next to me
he was still and placid above the water
but beneath the water
his feet were a frenzy of motion
catching fish with his toes

i got out of the lake
and i was in a small town
the center of all activity seemed to be the clubhouse
and everyone kept their clothes
there at the clubhouse
but there didn't seem to be a spare closet for me
so i walked up and down the room
which was sort of like a locker room
in that it had long benches down either side
but it wasn't segregated by sex
some people were complaining that they were missing something
accusing others of stealing their things
but it didn't seem very serious
and then there was this woman
she was wearing a red transparent skirt
she was shaved
and kind of scary
and the skirt was attached to her mons with double-sided tape
then on the other side of the room
a man negotiated space for one hanger
which held his special ties
i noticed
that they all seemed to have secret shortcuts
in and out of the clubhouse
everything cut through there somehow
i went outside
and i saw this guy somehow through the building
he looked a little like warren zevon
but then i realized it was this guy i knew from the bookstore
who i hadn't even realized looked anything like warren zevon
and what was yet another person from so long ago doing in my dreams
we were sort of friends
he had been a communications major
a dj at his college
which was some small private liberal arts college
which i can't remember the name
and, he claimed, he had worked as a gigolo
anyway
i found out over time
that he had a weird thing
which i find deeply disturbing
it's a confused sexual identity
paired with a sort of nazi fetishism
not like a neo-nazi thing
more like the uniforms and accoutrement
but still
crawling flesh yuck
so him i'm seeing through the windows


the second
my stepfather was a different guy
he was, i don't know, clint eastwood or something
i was a teenager
and he was cool in his black leather hat
i had a stepbrother who looked like sean
this guy i used to know who i always found attractive
and i'm all like totally:
you know i'm your favorite
which seems very flirty
i mean, i can be flirty
but it's usually more broadly friendly
than aggressive
but it was kind of a family joke, somehow

then i went to the coffee house
i was going to do a promotion with j
for free if they would just let me do it
and then r says they only give a three cent employee discount
and i can't remember anymore what the discount was
and the manager starts asking me questions
from the training guide
which they've changed
so i don't know the new answers
so he walks the path of the ginger vase with me
and he asks me:
can you think of anything else that blooms
as we walk into the break room
and i say:
don't talk to me like i'm five years old
and this guy sitting in the break room
starts telling me:
you're an intelligent woman
but you have a sharp tongue
and men don't like that, honey
you need to be
like the spoon in the glass of water
what does that mean
and i start to turn to ask him
and i'm like:
taylor griffith (another guy from the book store)
is that you
and he doesn't remember me
so what do i remember about taylor
he was a razorback
he was one of two people i worked with from arkansas
one north, one south, i can't remember who was who
and they were constantly bickering about
which half of the state were hillbillies
he marginally knew mary steenbergen
he was a teacher (maybe english, not sure)
and this was his second job
and, in the dream, he had been in the movie princess bride
and there was this whole new section
which i found myself caught inside
this knight said:
be careful
he'll drop his tricks on you now
and he was dropping these banners
which would flutter and fall on me
and they had pellets of acid
or small landmines
embedded in the cloth
and i was trying to keep them from touching me

and i just thought
that book store closed recently
so maybe i'm thinking about it
and maybe that explains why the parade of characters
but why these guys i don't know
i mean, i don't think i could have recalled taylor under torture
steve and kelley and maggie all spring immediately to mind
but i can't remember their last names
i'm not sure why my brain is doing this stuff
why is it important to remember what i'm remembering

i can't remeber last night, but the night before...

i dreamed
i was a teenager
i was living with my father and stepmother
i was pregnant
but nobody knew
and i was hanging out at the swimming pool
i had this floatation device
fastened tight around my hips
which reminded me of those bands
the kind they have for pregnant women
so they can wear normal clothes
instead of big old mu mus
and i don't know why i'm dreaming about that
any of it
and i don't know whose baby it was
although
i was a little uncomfortable with the questioning
contextually

and my father
he took me around
showed me his place
he had an awful lot of furniture
asian maybe antiques
i can't tell real from fake or ages
so i don't know
and maybe that
was because i was in a store like that
last saturday
when i went to an outdoor market
and the bathroom
was in the back of the asian furniture store

at the market
i got my fortune told
a love and destiny reading
which she was looking up in a book
which was weird
but she's more of an astrologer
and i don't know how much i believe in astrology, really
but
some planetary thing
my next "good" marriage year is when i'm 49
apparently 12 and 31 were my last two "good" windows
and, for some reason, i find that funny
my father, who thought he was in communication with spirits
but i just thought he was crazy
even though i do believe in that kind of thing, sort of
he said i would marry late in life
and i was like:
well, duh, i'm already 24
like if i had managed to escape it that far
what was ever gonna catch me
which seems bizarre to me now
but i think i felt older then, somehow

so maybe
this dream
was just one of those ones
where a bunch of things from your day
connect
mix up
reform
to make a dream
that isn't really telling you anything at all
or maybe
it is telling me something
or maybe
synchronicity
has reached some sort of critical mass
where i'm just pulling what i want to hear to me
like some giant magnet in the law of attraction land

restringing a guitar, spitting out gum, & the theme song to my three sons

rose petal coffee, the E ticket, & i am the god of whirly-gig bugs

i was working for this guy
after i woke up
i realized it was an actual guy i used to work with/for
right after i graduated from high school
so then i was trying to think of what he represented
because i haven't thought of him in years
and we weren't best friends or anything

in the dream
i was bagging coffee for these people
and i was trying to find an open bag
or the right sized bag
or something
it was some special roast
guatemala
maybe french roast
and when i opened the bag
the coffee was full of beautiful bright red rose petals
and i think they were getting it for some holiday

tony dasher (the guy)
was someone i worked with at the book store
he was tall
he was gay
and i just don't know why i would be dreaming about him
he wasn't all that important in the absolute scheme of things
he did tell me once that:
five strange black men could walk into this room
and you would think i liked each and every one of them
better than i like you
which was, i think, his way of saying
that i had self esteem issues
and maybe i still do
why else would i dream of him

last night
i was in this mall
with this guy
who i'm pretty sure
i've never known
and he was much younger than me
i'm not sure if i was trying to make time with him or what
but i wasn't just especially attracted to him
but maybe the dream me was
because it did kinda seem like a date
and the ceiling had moving clouds
like some special effect
on a ride at disneyworld
and we were taking some kind of drug
and then i was driving
and the wheels on the right side kept slipping
off the edge of the ravine
but i was kinda bumping along behind the other cars
like it was some great e-ticket thrill ride

then i was in this room
maybe underground
and maybe it was more than one room
or there were arches and alcoves and such, anyway
i walked up to this thing
i'm not sure what to call it
if you've ever seen a big mishmash of old tray type on a table
like people collected back in the 1970s, remember
well, kinda like that, but not quite
because it was animated, maybe
like the typewriter in the movie naked lunch
so i lay my fingers over it
press on parts of it
and suddenly
up springs this whirly-gig insectoid
that i have created with my impressions on the type

that's all i can remember