(6/17/06) the metamorphosis of a woman and the decay of my mind

(Entered in paper journal at 11:04 AM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)

Dream 1

I was outside with some gathering of intelligent people, maybe a museum or a lecture. An older woman with an eye patch stood on the other side of a small bridge over a little, lawn-banked creek. She waved at me through the cheerful crowd of people.

I went -- maybe flew -- to the woman. She was beautiful in a scary way, and she was maybe twenty years older than I. But I was in love with her. I was afraid of what everybody else would say.

I landed on the woman's car. The woman was in her car now. The car had a champagne paint job and pale tan, soft interior. I lay with my back to the windshield. I spoke with the woman as I faded into the passenger seat.

I knew the woman had picked me up because she wanted to have sex with me. But as we drove through and out of the park and into the city she told me she was running late and had to drop me off and take care of some business today. She would pick me up tomorrow. And then... But I knew even then that shouldn't have sex with me.

I seemed to be losing my mental age. Soon the woman was older, heavier, and not pretty. But I still thought she was the pretty, older woman who had wanted to have sex with me.

The woman was quizzing me on the details of ethanol production. I saw (as if we were in a house as well as a car) a page fastened to a wall. An ethanol schematic was very simply drawn in thick lines like a kindergarten-age child's drawing.

I was trying to explain how corn got processed. But I was so unstudied that I made things up as I went along. This soon became obvious to the woman. She said something that made it clear she was no longer interested in me.