(Entered in paper journal at the Muddy Cup coffee shop on Staten Island.)
Dream 1
I was in the lobby of a movie theater. I was sad because my friend R and his girlfriend L hadn't come to see a movie with me. But at some point R came in. I had apparently been crying. I was trying to hide my face and act like I didn't care even about the movie.
There was a balcony-like upper-level with black-pole railing and black-pole-framed chairs and tables. I walked up there and noticed out of the corner of my eye as I looked at a poster that I had a tick on my right tricep (my arm was bare). I looked away and thought, This can't be a tick. That would make me sick (i.e. with Lyme disease), and that would be too inconvenient.
I looked back down at my arm. It wasn't a tick, just some kind of beetle. I was relieved. But now it was a tick again. I brushed it off. As it fell away I wondered whether I had brushed it all the way off or if the head was still in my flesh. Then I wondered whether it had been a tick after all.
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