Lost boys and magic tricks

Do you ever dream of something, and feel like you've dreamed of it before? It happens to me a lot, so I'm hoping that writing them out will show me if they really are multiple dreams, or just a dream memory that is a part of the dream.

I'm in a large auditorium, two tiers of seating like a concert hall might have. The lights are out except those on stage, where a man has been giving out awards for something. He calls out for a winner who had created a pair of socks for Sophie Cat (I have no idea what that is; it's some famous thing from the dream). The socks have paws and cat faces on them, and are stripped yellow. The guy who won seemed interesting, so I went and marveled over his socks.

As an intermission, the man calls for volunteers to join him on stage and show their skills. He calls for a young age group (5-7 or something) to show their abilities with gymnastics, and carries on some steps and a box of the water noodles that kids use in pools. A little Asian girl and a little black boy are chosen to perform. I for some reason realize I'm a stage hand, and run back stage to help. It's a small gymnast room, about 15' x 15', and a small blue mat has been placed on the floor. The mothers of both of the children are back there with them, so I spend time helping the children do some stretches. They get called on stage to perform, and two teenagers come into the room, a black male who will do "popping" (a style of dancing involving extreme muscle control), and a latina girl who will be singing. 

We roll out another, larger aerobics mat, when a magician goes onstage. In his attempt to make some object disappear, he instead makes everyone disappear. 

I'm now in a world that reminds me of some mix between Silent Hill and a horror movie about any haunted place that is shown in Ghost Hunters or Ghost Adventures for the setting. 

It's no longer me I see walking forward, but Patrick Stewart. He walks forward wearily, through the darkness and debris piled around, and sees a woman through a smashed window to his right. She calls out to him in anguish for him to run to her, and I have a flash-forward/flash-back of being in the room with her, trying to bar a door with a metal bookcase while something tries to get us. In this vision, I sense that this was how we died (Patrick Stewart and the woman).

I pull myself from the 'memory' somehow, and I'm back to being myself. I move forward and walk into a greying, old library that appears to be ruins of some kind. The ceiling is still intact, but there are trees growing in through the walls. I see a small boy wearing dirty clothing cowering on the floor. I look up and see an anteater on a tree branch, talking into a walkie-talkie about something.  As I walk around a bookcase, I see a badger that is dressed like a nun with big black buttons for eyes, signifying that the badger is blind. The badger is scolding the anteater via walkie-talkie, and I wonder why they don't realize they are so close to each other. I press on and come to a dead end that looks vaguely similar to interior of the house from Doctor Who "Blink". I turn back and look for the child again, but he is scared of me and tries to run away.

A man is standing near the exit, and I approach him to speak with him, but the child grabs my arm and pulls me out. We run from the man to a wall, where the child pulls out a key on a chain around his neck. The man is close behind, and the child get his key in the lock and lets us into a door that appears. We jump onto a lift there, and the door closes behind us. We are brought up to a second level that is a mess with clothes, trash, and guinea pigs. The child apologizes for the mess, and makes a space for me to sleep there. I know that soon others will be joining us to live in this loft area. 

I return downstairs and notice a large group of college students outside a small building that looks like a news stand.

At this point, I wake up with a start in hearing a door close, and realize my alarm didn't go off for work and that I am running extremely late.

Pirate ships and Abe Lincoln

This dream was one I had a while ago, but was one of the weirdest I've had.

We're on a huge pirate ship below deck, out at sea. There are no pirates on the ship though, only the 8 of us. Without the pirates and the captain, we are forced to pick another captain.

Of course, the only logical method of choosing a captain is by playing beer pong.

After a few rounds, it is between me and one other person, then we notice that the room is beginning to flood. We run up to the top deck and realize that we are sinking, and that we need to dock the boat or we will sink. We all just over board and grab ropes, and start to haul the boat up an incline to beach it, and prevent it from sinking.

Somehow, our full size pirate ship was actually at a water park in one of those wave pools. We don't know what to do, and still don't have a captain since we didn't finish the beer pong games. 

There is only one solution. We have to assassinate Lincoln.

The time frame switches to the 50's at a press conference outdoors, with a stage and podium for the president to speak on. The audience is all sitting on the floor, watching the speaker. As Roosevelt yields the stage to Abe Lincoln, we all mount our horses and try to assassinate Lincoln by bow and arrow. After a few passes around the stage, we jump and hide in the bushes while they hunt for us. Bravo team goes forward to distract those hunting us so we can all get away.

Then my cat proceeds to step on my face and wake me up.

The Owner

I'm sure this would have had more detail if I'd written this once I woke up, but alas I am an adult and have to go to work.

I'm at some mix between a castle and a school. I suppose the best comparison would be to say it was Hogwarts, with less wizards and less fog. The best comparison I can find it this:

Courtesy of Google: the Kilkenny Castle

Imagine this castle, at dusk, without the flowers, less trees, more small thatched buildings, and World War II going on.

It was late evening while I was working as a washwoman or a maid or a student (that part wasn't very clear). A siren alarms and we all have to run down into the bomb shelter under the school to be safe, being the Nazi's are attacking.

It's a dark grey brick dungeon. There is a large group of us huddled in a small room,  about 10' x 12', which appears to be just women and children at first, but transforms into many college aged students. The only light is through the mail slot on the door to my left. We are no longer hiding in a bomb shelter, but have been herded into the basement like cattle, to be used as slaves or killed as the Owner sees fit. There is no way out. The door is now on the right, stairs leading up.

Somehow, in a room with one door and a mail slot, someone finds a backdoor and people start sneaking out. Except then we aren't sneaking out, but are in some slum gambling bar, still the same sized room and all, and the slave owner is some big bouncer that has us all file out in a large formation, fifteen lines across with fifteen in each line, about five feet between each person. Each person is holding up a flag on a pole with their heritage on it (though my flag, instead of being Italian, was white). Then, we start running across a football field.

On the sides of the football field, every 10 yards on the side lines are two lines of three flag poles. But each flag pole has a Gatling gun on it and starts shooting everyone. People start going down fast, and I run for the side line and run along the line between the flag poles to avoid getting shot. Only about 5 people made it through that way. 

I can't really remember what happened next, but it was some sort of test that we needed to pass, and we end up doing undercover drug busts or gambling ring or something, but I remember being scared of the Owner, and plotting some way to escape. 

If I remember how it continued, I'll update this post. Usually some inanimate object will spark the memory.

Purpose

Does anyone else dream as much as I do? 

In "dream world" I can recall 15-20 minutes worth of dream events, though the brain is a funny thing and it is most likely over a just a few moments in reality. Regardless of how well I'm sleeping, the stresses in my life, how I wake up, and what I eat, I still wake up every morning with another crazy dream story.

Folks I talk to rarely dream, and even more rarely to the extend that I do with the story lines. 

I really do want to know, does anyone dream like I do?