(Entered in paper journal at 7:25 AM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I sat in a living room with my friend R. It was daytime. The house was a poor, suburban house with a big front window and plenty of natural light. The front door was probably open. R and I sat at a buffet chest, at the back side of it, the front facing a dining room (?). We played a video game or looked at a computer.
R started complaining about his ex-wife Y again. I didn't really agree with what R was saying, but I didn't tell R so. Instead I said, "Well, her films weren't even that great."
R stopped using the computer. He pondered a second. He said, "Well, no. I don't think you're right."
I felt caught off guard. I mumbled, "Oh, well, I guess -- There are a lot of her films that I don't like. But a couple of them, are of national quality if not --" (I couldn't bring myself to say "world quality.")
Dream 2
A beautiful woman who looked like Kate Winslet climbed to the top of a wing of an enormous bird (if there was a bird and not just a wing) as it flew upward into an orange, pink, and golden sky.
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