(Entered in paper journal at 7:45 PM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I and a woman (and maybe others) followed a man into a pool. The man was a leader like from a hippie religious cult. We stepped down into the thick water. He said something like, "If people can't handle this they shouldn't go any farther in. If you haven't developed enough, the water may kill you."
I was panicked. I "walked" clockwise in this gelly, sea-green water in the moonlight. We may have been wading because we were now in deep water. But I was still in only to slightly above my bellybutton. I breathed shallowly like the water was cold. But it was warm. I was really breathing shallowly because I was getting sick. I knew this, and was getting more and more worried.
Dream 2
I was with my mom in something like a coliseum for an indoor sports tournament like hockey, basketball, or something like martial arts. My hands were itchy, cracked, and dry, like I had an illness. I was embarrassed to tell my mom what was wrong, but I at least told her my hands were itching.
My mom said, "Well, go get some lotion. In this place, someone must have lotion!"
I walked around the stadium counterclockwise in an aisle near the front row. I asked people for lotion. Nobody really had any. I sat down in a space with five or six empty seats. Some man to my left (who also may have offered me some lotion) moved over to me. I thought he was gay. I didn't want to talk to him because I thought he was trying to pick me up.
For some reason now I was facing away from the game area, like I'd stood and leaned my back against a railing and faced the man in a seat.
The man told me, "The screens are wonderful today. Usually you feel like nobody's even working behind them. But today the images are very human and spontaneous."
I knew the man was talking about the LED digital screens that displayed highlights and scores, etc. I turned to look. The game area was shrouded by a big, black, thick mesh net. But from the right side of it I saw most of a display screen. It was just displaying a pattern of green squares before a black background like a fountains of cards. It wasn't very impressed.
I walked out to the "ticket booth," which was like an admission desk for a museum. A woman was there -- kind of looked like a pale blonde intellectual skater chick -- but she also wasn't there.
I walked behind a desk and found a book like a coffee table or picture book. I read through it. It was about people who had gone insane and done some pretty awful things.
At some point it was like I was watching a documentary of these people on one of the display screens in the stadium. Close to the end I was "inside" the documentary as if I was seeing -- feeling -- through the electric-buzzed world of the camera. I cornered into a room from a hallway and saw a guitar case, opened, on the floor before a bed.
There were subtitles instead of narration. A young man had gone psychotic. He buried his beagle deep underground in a guitar case. This was after he had boiled the dog. But the dog had been dead before the boiling. The young man had poisoned the dog with sixty poisons -- sixty poisons.
(As I woke up and lay in bed I thought, Well, it shows that people in real life still do some of the things Jung noted his alchemists as discussing symbolically.)
Dream 3
I was on a bus tour that stopped in a town just a small way from "my hometown." I wondered if I couldn't just go back. We were in a food court.
I walked outside. The building was rather small, black brick, like a suburban doctors' office complex. I walked on the wide lawn counterclockwise around the building.
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