(4/15/06) i was a dead woman

(Entered in paper journal at 4:15 PM on train from New Haven, Connecticut, to New York City.)

Dream 1

I knew a woman was dead. I saw somehow that she had angered a man who was rich and some type of criminal. I knew he had killed her and (before or after) cut off one of her hands.

I saw something like a cartoon of the woman in some dark blue room like a ballroom. The woman slapped the man in front of all his friends. Either the man or woman was coated in bright red, blod, the only thing (other than the eyes of people) not blue or black. This meant the man was angry and the woman was going to get killed.

I was now in a room with hot pink walls. On a diving "wall" somewhere in the room was a ledge of thin wood that was also painted hot pink. On it stood plastic figurines of a bride and groom. Once again I knew this stood for the man and woman.

I was now as small as the figurines. I stood on the ledge. I knew this meant I was the woman. I knocked the woman figurine off the ledge, somehow trying to reenact her death.

I was walking in the woods. I walked down a trail cluttered with big, schist-like boulders, to a river or lake. All the time I heard a conversation, as if in narration. I was also thinking out how the woma had been killed. I was still the woman, too, though I was myself.

It now all dawned on me, and as it dawned on me, I became sick, like something similar was being done to me, though I hadn't started the feeling the effects until now. I now knew that the man had shot up the woman with some drug in the vertebrae of her neck. When she was paralyzed he did something torturous to her and then, as she was on the verge of death, he cut off one of her hands. She was in a wedding dress.

I was crawling on my belly onto the rocks that waded in the first waters of the river/lake. As I looked at the pool of water surrounded by the boulder I saw so much trash everywhere. There was an upside-down baby carriage that was colored hot pink, with tattered fabric. I was disgusted with the garbage in the water. I thought, This is nature. It shouldn't be so crummy.

I was sick, hardly moving, and afraid that the man who had done this to me would catch up and kill me. I saw the woman's lace-cuffed hand floating palm-up in the water. I felt even sicker.

But now I was standing up, only myself, no longer the woman. I was walking up bouldres that got taller as they got into deeper water. I knew or thought that the rest of the body of the woman would be by the next and last boulder, floating in the shadow of its face, belly up, in her wedding dress, at the fringes of this vast body of water.

As I approached the edge of the boulder, I hunched down, maybe even lay down, suddenly. I didn't want to see the body in the water. I thought something like, That's the last thing I need to see -- more trash in the water.