(Entered in paper journal at 5:56 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
Am image of my own face, up close, in slight shade. My face very scraggly, some crust of dead skin barely hanging off my chin.
I heard a TV (?) news announcement, a woman speaking, saying that different cities had been making emergency plans. It might have been announced that Washington DC had driving routes out of buildings and possibly out of town.
The emergency became a man who had driven into "a wife and son." A certain policeman was investigating this. But now the policeman was the man who had hit "his wife and son." The son, in my mind's eye, looked like a girl -- long, blonde hair. The son may also have been wearing a dress. He had huge, blue eyes.
I saw the car. It was tipped over in front of a house. The house looked like it was on a stage, but also like just behind it and on its right were the rushing remnants of an elevated train or highway. I thought, and hoped, a little, that I would see the crash in replay. I thought I would get some meaning, some answer, if I could see the death.
I felt like the man was around here. I thought he might have killed himself in the crash. I also thought he might have been getting ready to kill himself, possibly by slicing his throat while he was in the house. I hoped that if that were the case I might at least be able to see it, if not the car crash.
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