(Dream entered only in daytime paper journal. No time/place info for entry.)
One dream slightly remembered from last night.
Dream 1
I was outside a tall building, possibly in the plot for another tall building. The area was fenced off. Inside were huge dinosaur fossils. Something in these fossils or in other fossils like these ones was causing some kind of terminal disease for people all over America. I think it was something inside the fossils of a certain dinosaur, so that if the fossils broke open, the germ dust would spray out.
I had to inspect these fossils. I was hung down or else I simply hovered over the completed and arranged skeleton, which was maybe fifty feet tall. I could feel the doom and death inside this skeleton. I knew that this thing had to be removed.
Now it seemed like either the skeleton of a building or some kind of parking lot structure was being built or was built around the skeleton. I climbed up this structure, from floor to floor. On one floor, empty otherwise, I found a large dinosaur skull. I could tell that this also was diseased. So I grabbed it by its beak-like mouth and carried it with my left hand as I climbed down the floors somehow with my legs and right arm. The skull was large, maybe four feet long.
The lower floors were like some kind of museum without any discernible exhibits. People saw me scaling down the floors. A lot of them, kids especially, ran to the edges of the floors, which were now barred by metal guardrails. Everybody thought I was bringing down a new exhibit. They huddled closer to me. But I needed them to get away. The skull was diseased. I needed to get it into an isolated place so I could prepare to remove it.
There was a small square roped off on one of the floors, right at the edge. So I dropped the skull right there. But as soon as I did, a ton of people were running up to it. I picked it right back up and climbed farther down.
Now I was in some smallish room like a mix between a hallway and an employee's lounge. I stood facing a businessman, some kind of upper-middle-management boss. Next to me, possibly standing in the doorway of an elevator, stood a guy who looked something like Joe Strummer (?).
I was trying to convince the boss to let something happen that needed to happen before "JS" could start his mission, as something like a flying soldier fighting against living dinosaur skeletons (by flying I mean that he likely flew with something like a jet pack attached to him).
Somehow, while waiting for this tightwad boss to make his decision, "JS" and I lgot sidetracked by talking about The Clash, whom "JS" also liked. But then he started mentioning all these songs that "were from" London Calling. I didn't know any of them. I pulled the CD out from somewhere and looked on the back for the song list. the whole last two-thirds of the album was unknown to me.
I felt like a moron. I thought that if "JS" discovered how little of this album I knew he'd think I was just some "trendy" who only knew The Clash's most popular songs, like everybody else.
Showing posts with label fossils. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fossils. Show all posts
Monday, March 20, 2017
Saturday, March 18, 2017
(12/13/04) fragment in a musuem
(Entered in paper journal at 5 PM at some Starbucks.)
Dream 1
FRAGMENT --
I was in a museum, taking care of a mammoth skull that had some deformities. I worked under some nice woman whom I could never see too clearly. The museum was long, dim, with nice wood floors and softly white walls that were wide apart. The mammoth skull was tall and narrow, with enormous tusks protruding. It was very elongated, almost like it was melted. Many edges seem to have been broken open -- they exposed the rough porousness beneath the smooth surface of bone.
I was doing something like removing blemishes from the skull, not patching up these exposed portions of bone. But now I did something wrong. I backed away from the skull, both embarrassed that I had messed up in front of the public, who were walking almost inattentively back and forth through the exhibit hall, and worried that my boss would spot me and criticize me for my mistake.
The skull was only a couple feet above the ground. The legs were lowered so they spread out in front of the skull like a dog's when it lays on the floor.
I felt like I should combat my feeling of embarrassment and get back to working on the mammoth skull.
I walked back up to the mammoth skull with more of a sense of being self-assured. But then something else happened that did one of two things; 1) the work on the skull had to be stopped for technical reasons; 2) I was filled with a sudden dread of the skull and was compelled to back away from it so I could see the whole thing, including the tusks.
As I backed farther and farther away I realized how large this animal must have been. Its tusks were almost as long as its legs, which, I realized, reached about thirty feet. The legs ended in tiger paws. I no longer wanted to be in between these legs or in front of this ghostly, deformed, anamorphic skull.
My dread increased. I could feel the mammoth coming back to life, struggling to stand back up. I got away from it. It did now seem to be standing. Behind it was another mammoth skeleton. I rushed now to get away. I could feel both these animals coming to life. I knew these two animals in particular could kill me.
I now saw a dinosaur just down and a ways to the right, past a few other fossil skeletons. There may have been a skeleton of this dinosaur, but also, under a spotlight and in a huge, glass case, was either a model of the fleshed out and scaled dinosaur or else the actual dinosaur, which had grown flesh and life back back onto his skeleton. It seemed at once enormous, maybe eight feet tall and fifteen feet long, round-backed as a turtle, with a long, brush-shaped spiked tail and a short, flat head; and small, maybe like a three-foot-long model posted vertically sideways on a glass wall. I knew if I could get to that dinosaur everything would be fine.
Dream 1
FRAGMENT --
I was in a museum, taking care of a mammoth skull that had some deformities. I worked under some nice woman whom I could never see too clearly. The museum was long, dim, with nice wood floors and softly white walls that were wide apart. The mammoth skull was tall and narrow, with enormous tusks protruding. It was very elongated, almost like it was melted. Many edges seem to have been broken open -- they exposed the rough porousness beneath the smooth surface of bone.
I was doing something like removing blemishes from the skull, not patching up these exposed portions of bone. But now I did something wrong. I backed away from the skull, both embarrassed that I had messed up in front of the public, who were walking almost inattentively back and forth through the exhibit hall, and worried that my boss would spot me and criticize me for my mistake.
The skull was only a couple feet above the ground. The legs were lowered so they spread out in front of the skull like a dog's when it lays on the floor.
I felt like I should combat my feeling of embarrassment and get back to working on the mammoth skull.
I walked back up to the mammoth skull with more of a sense of being self-assured. But then something else happened that did one of two things; 1) the work on the skull had to be stopped for technical reasons; 2) I was filled with a sudden dread of the skull and was compelled to back away from it so I could see the whole thing, including the tusks.
As I backed farther and farther away I realized how large this animal must have been. Its tusks were almost as long as its legs, which, I realized, reached about thirty feet. The legs ended in tiger paws. I no longer wanted to be in between these legs or in front of this ghostly, deformed, anamorphic skull.
My dread increased. I could feel the mammoth coming back to life, struggling to stand back up. I got away from it. It did now seem to be standing. Behind it was another mammoth skeleton. I rushed now to get away. I could feel both these animals coming to life. I knew these two animals in particular could kill me.
I now saw a dinosaur just down and a ways to the right, past a few other fossil skeletons. There may have been a skeleton of this dinosaur, but also, under a spotlight and in a huge, glass case, was either a model of the fleshed out and scaled dinosaur or else the actual dinosaur, which had grown flesh and life back back onto his skeleton. It seemed at once enormous, maybe eight feet tall and fifteen feet long, round-backed as a turtle, with a long, brush-shaped spiked tail and a short, flat head; and small, maybe like a three-foot-long model posted vertically sideways on a glass wall. I knew if I could get to that dinosaur everything would be fine.
(12/18/04) we live in a left-handed universe; baggy girl clothes; how is the weather; coney alamos; track and field rapping; the curator's room; red-breasted morganza
(Entered in paper journal at 9:30 AM on 2-train, but not sure where from/to.)
Dream 1
I was in a full classroom. One of my NYC Americorps crew chiefs, AL, was at the front of the class, teaching us something like a mix between physics and good ways for dealing with our strange paycheck situations. She drew "cycles" on a chalkboard. One was a circle on the line of which a triangle traveled clockwise. There may also have been a square with a similarly traveling triangle.
AL asked us if we could trace the pattern in reverse for the eventual symmetry of the universe. I thought to myself, We can't do that. We live in a left-handed universe! But I knew and took pride in the fact that I could trace the movement backwards.
Now AL drew a line with slight loops moving from right to left above and to the left of the circle. This was slightly difficult to follow and to conceive backwards. Then she drew a tight series of loops from left to right below. the circle. Since we had to reproduce each loop exactly as AL had produced it, except with reverse movement, and since she had drawn the loops so randomly and uniquely, I was less sure I could succeed.
Dream 2
I was possibly in a clothing store. There were some people close by who knew me. I was standing by a grey counter behind which were some dressing rooms and a grid of cubbyholes with jeans in them. I turned away from a woman who was either my friend or an attendant and possibly another woman who was likely my friend.
I wore my usual jeans and t-shirt. I took off my jeans and t-shirt, possibly also my underwear, and put on a royal blue t-shirt that was a little baggy and some white jeans that went only about to mid-shin. The jeans were a bit saggy, although they were supposed to be tight. These clothes were supposed to be women's clothes. But they just seemed like an embarrassing outfit one might use but wouldn't want to use to paint a house.
I only seemed slightly embarrassed at the possibility that some guy had seen me getting into these clothes and that he had laughed at my hopes of being somewhat feminine.
Dream 3
It was the middle of night. I was out on a wide sidewalk corner facing a wide, gulfing street. Near the corner, also facing the street, was a newsstand booth, wider than usual and lit as brightly as a bodega with fluorescent light. I walked toward the corner, slightly near the newsstand, only peripherally paying attention to the newsstand.
I was trying to ignore a member of my NYC Americorps program, who kept shouting at me, as if not to me but to some absent friend, a bunch of strange and obscure half-jokes about how rude and stupid white people are. I wondered if I should turn on him and say something.
Now I was before a door like a backstage door or the backdoor for some kind of nice store. It was like I had been led out of the store by a nice, pretty woman who was about forty years old. She stood in the doorway, holding the door open. I stood by something like a black-painted, cast-iron stairwell or tall fence just outside the door.
The woman tried to make small talk to get me to feel comfortable enough to make a move on her. But somehow I messed up the conversation. We were now talking about how it had been so cold yesterday but how today it was nice.
I lifted up my arms. I wore a sort of tight, long-sleeve shirt. As I talked about the warmth, which, according to my conversation wasn't warm but maybe forty or fifty degrees Fahrenheit, the actual weather became misty, warm, oddly liquid, not humid, but like strings of nonexistent water, which, as well as the mist splashed against my skin before vanishing.
I kept insisting as I spoke that the weather was about forty to forty-five degrees Fahrenheit, with no rain, just nice, because I was afraid if I didn't calm down the actual weather with my speech, we'd get horribly humidity, which would cause me to break out with bad acne.
Dream 4
I was at some place like Coney Island on a warm, grey day. I sat on "the boardwalk" in a tall, wooden chair and read a book. People flooded all around me in front of me and out from behind nearby booths. I saw my crew mate and friend KB. She wore a maroon shirt and a brownish burgundy leather jacket. I waved at her.
Now something else happened. Now I was back to sitting in the chair at this boardwalk. But now I sat between two booths that were separated by maybe fifty feet. A fence stretched between the two booths. People came in through a gate as if this were the entrance to an amusement park.
In front of me, just inside the gate, a pretty, brown-skinned girl in a soft, turquoise or sea-green shirt and a white miniskirt waved in my direction. I waved, as if annoyed, because I knew that although she was waving at some guy in a white SUV off to my left, she wanted to play a joke on me by having me think she was waving at me. I thought I'd just blow her off by letting her have her joke.
Then KB walked through the gate. I waved at her and tried to be cool. I noticed she didn't have her jacket on. I realized tht it had been a whole day since I last saw her and that I'd just been sitting in this chair the whole time. It was obvious, too: I had the same book in my hands. I felt ashamed.
Now I was in some small place, like a lab at the Los Alamos National Laboratories. The place was lit with yellow fluorescent light, with a half-octagonal (?) counter behind which I sat in a metal chair, reading some kind of suspense novel or science book.
Behind me I heard, almost as if I had read what I was hearing, a couple people talking about the danger of something exploding, possibly a nuclear reactor or nuclear missiles. I stood up to see if there was anything I could do to help.
I ran to a door. One of my NYC Americorps crew chiefs, NM, ran up to me and put her hand on my chest to block me. She said, "You just go back to that chair."
I went back. I tried to read what was happening. The words at first slightly didn't match what was happening and what was being said. Then they stopped making sense altogether.
Dream 5
I was on top of a long, steep hill that looked down on a running track. It was a clear day, either late afternoon or a little after early morning. On the other side of the track was another tall, steep hill. People had to go one at a time down the hill I was on, to the track, then walk around it once while freestyle rapping.
My crew mate RA was down there as the dream began. Now he was done. He may have come back up the hill. Now I walked down. As I went down I thought, At least nobody will hear me: I'm so far away. Then I considered that there could be a hidden camera or microphones somewhere.
I started rapping. As far as I can tell I sounded really old-school.
Dream 6
I walked into a room through a thin doorway in a hallway lined with dark wood. The room was full of fossil skeletons, mostly of flying animals. I stood beside a tall, thin, white man who looked like a curator/insurance salesman. He was bald on top, had a birdlike nose, and kind, gentle eyes and mouth. His suit almost looked like a school uniform or black slacks with a club jacket.
I said, "This is it. This is the room from my dream."
I tried to walk in but was afraid the fossil skeletons would come to life. But I looked over at the "curator." I thought, I don't want him to know I'm afraid.
I walked a couple steps into the room. It seemed like the skull in front of me shifted or melted or expanded somehow.
Dream 7
I walked down above an arroyo or canal with short, concrete banks. In th blue water swam a strange duck. I called it a red-breasted morganza (though I *think* nowadays (2017) I meant a red breasted merganser), but it actually was far different. It was like a video game. Its head and neck were bright red. The red shot about one-third down the center of the back, tapering off and line with yellow like a comic book flame. The body was turquoise and vivid blue, all mixed up and shifting and shading.
I was with "my sister" -- a nondescript girl who was maybe ten years old -- and "my mom," whom I probably never saw. I told my sister the duck was a red-breasted morganza.
My sister knelt down and reached her hands into the water to pet the duck. I yelled nervously at her, "No! Don't do that. Those ducks have densely packed needle teeth. It'll bite. You'll lose a finger, possibly a whole hand."
Dream 1
I was in a full classroom. One of my NYC Americorps crew chiefs, AL, was at the front of the class, teaching us something like a mix between physics and good ways for dealing with our strange paycheck situations. She drew "cycles" on a chalkboard. One was a circle on the line of which a triangle traveled clockwise. There may also have been a square with a similarly traveling triangle.
AL asked us if we could trace the pattern in reverse for the eventual symmetry of the universe. I thought to myself, We can't do that. We live in a left-handed universe! But I knew and took pride in the fact that I could trace the movement backwards.
Now AL drew a line with slight loops moving from right to left above and to the left of the circle. This was slightly difficult to follow and to conceive backwards. Then she drew a tight series of loops from left to right below. the circle. Since we had to reproduce each loop exactly as AL had produced it, except with reverse movement, and since she had drawn the loops so randomly and uniquely, I was less sure I could succeed.
Dream 2
I was possibly in a clothing store. There were some people close by who knew me. I was standing by a grey counter behind which were some dressing rooms and a grid of cubbyholes with jeans in them. I turned away from a woman who was either my friend or an attendant and possibly another woman who was likely my friend.
I wore my usual jeans and t-shirt. I took off my jeans and t-shirt, possibly also my underwear, and put on a royal blue t-shirt that was a little baggy and some white jeans that went only about to mid-shin. The jeans were a bit saggy, although they were supposed to be tight. These clothes were supposed to be women's clothes. But they just seemed like an embarrassing outfit one might use but wouldn't want to use to paint a house.
I only seemed slightly embarrassed at the possibility that some guy had seen me getting into these clothes and that he had laughed at my hopes of being somewhat feminine.
Dream 3
It was the middle of night. I was out on a wide sidewalk corner facing a wide, gulfing street. Near the corner, also facing the street, was a newsstand booth, wider than usual and lit as brightly as a bodega with fluorescent light. I walked toward the corner, slightly near the newsstand, only peripherally paying attention to the newsstand.
I was trying to ignore a member of my NYC Americorps program, who kept shouting at me, as if not to me but to some absent friend, a bunch of strange and obscure half-jokes about how rude and stupid white people are. I wondered if I should turn on him and say something.
Now I was before a door like a backstage door or the backdoor for some kind of nice store. It was like I had been led out of the store by a nice, pretty woman who was about forty years old. She stood in the doorway, holding the door open. I stood by something like a black-painted, cast-iron stairwell or tall fence just outside the door.
The woman tried to make small talk to get me to feel comfortable enough to make a move on her. But somehow I messed up the conversation. We were now talking about how it had been so cold yesterday but how today it was nice.
I lifted up my arms. I wore a sort of tight, long-sleeve shirt. As I talked about the warmth, which, according to my conversation wasn't warm but maybe forty or fifty degrees Fahrenheit, the actual weather became misty, warm, oddly liquid, not humid, but like strings of nonexistent water, which, as well as the mist splashed against my skin before vanishing.
I kept insisting as I spoke that the weather was about forty to forty-five degrees Fahrenheit, with no rain, just nice, because I was afraid if I didn't calm down the actual weather with my speech, we'd get horribly humidity, which would cause me to break out with bad acne.
Dream 4
I was at some place like Coney Island on a warm, grey day. I sat on "the boardwalk" in a tall, wooden chair and read a book. People flooded all around me in front of me and out from behind nearby booths. I saw my crew mate and friend KB. She wore a maroon shirt and a brownish burgundy leather jacket. I waved at her.
Now something else happened. Now I was back to sitting in the chair at this boardwalk. But now I sat between two booths that were separated by maybe fifty feet. A fence stretched between the two booths. People came in through a gate as if this were the entrance to an amusement park.
In front of me, just inside the gate, a pretty, brown-skinned girl in a soft, turquoise or sea-green shirt and a white miniskirt waved in my direction. I waved, as if annoyed, because I knew that although she was waving at some guy in a white SUV off to my left, she wanted to play a joke on me by having me think she was waving at me. I thought I'd just blow her off by letting her have her joke.
Then KB walked through the gate. I waved at her and tried to be cool. I noticed she didn't have her jacket on. I realized tht it had been a whole day since I last saw her and that I'd just been sitting in this chair the whole time. It was obvious, too: I had the same book in my hands. I felt ashamed.
Now I was in some small place, like a lab at the Los Alamos National Laboratories. The place was lit with yellow fluorescent light, with a half-octagonal (?) counter behind which I sat in a metal chair, reading some kind of suspense novel or science book.
Behind me I heard, almost as if I had read what I was hearing, a couple people talking about the danger of something exploding, possibly a nuclear reactor or nuclear missiles. I stood up to see if there was anything I could do to help.
I ran to a door. One of my NYC Americorps crew chiefs, NM, ran up to me and put her hand on my chest to block me. She said, "You just go back to that chair."
I went back. I tried to read what was happening. The words at first slightly didn't match what was happening and what was being said. Then they stopped making sense altogether.
Dream 5
I was on top of a long, steep hill that looked down on a running track. It was a clear day, either late afternoon or a little after early morning. On the other side of the track was another tall, steep hill. People had to go one at a time down the hill I was on, to the track, then walk around it once while freestyle rapping.
My crew mate RA was down there as the dream began. Now he was done. He may have come back up the hill. Now I walked down. As I went down I thought, At least nobody will hear me: I'm so far away. Then I considered that there could be a hidden camera or microphones somewhere.
I started rapping. As far as I can tell I sounded really old-school.
Dream 6
I walked into a room through a thin doorway in a hallway lined with dark wood. The room was full of fossil skeletons, mostly of flying animals. I stood beside a tall, thin, white man who looked like a curator/insurance salesman. He was bald on top, had a birdlike nose, and kind, gentle eyes and mouth. His suit almost looked like a school uniform or black slacks with a club jacket.
I said, "This is it. This is the room from my dream."
I tried to walk in but was afraid the fossil skeletons would come to life. But I looked over at the "curator." I thought, I don't want him to know I'm afraid.
I walked a couple steps into the room. It seemed like the skull in front of me shifted or melted or expanded somehow.
Dream 7
I walked down above an arroyo or canal with short, concrete banks. In th blue water swam a strange duck. I called it a red-breasted morganza (though I *think* nowadays (2017) I meant a red breasted merganser), but it actually was far different. It was like a video game. Its head and neck were bright red. The red shot about one-third down the center of the back, tapering off and line with yellow like a comic book flame. The body was turquoise and vivid blue, all mixed up and shifting and shading.
I was with "my sister" -- a nondescript girl who was maybe ten years old -- and "my mom," whom I probably never saw. I told my sister the duck was a red-breasted morganza.
My sister knelt down and reached her hands into the water to pet the duck. I yelled nervously at her, "No! Don't do that. Those ducks have densely packed needle teeth. It'll bite. You'll lose a finger, possibly a whole hand."
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