(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at Laundromat on Empire Boulevard and McKeever Place in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
It was daytime. I stood in a wooded area on a hillside. I could see through the trees and down the hill to a lake and a city. The lake's surface was silvery. A helicopter or airplane flew over the city. I may have run into this wooded area to avoid machine gun fire from a helicopter.
From behind me another person or aircraft began firing at the aircraft in the distance. (If it was a person firing, he/she may instead have been throwing rocks at the helicopter, somehow managing to send them all that distance.) I was sure the aircraft would start falling.
I ran out from the forest while the assailant was still firing at the craft. I wanted the craft to be clear that I was not firing, even though I didn't know who was firing.
Dream #2
I sat on a couch in a room on the upper floor of a large house. The room may have had blue walls. It was night, and a light was on in the room. Another couch to my right was at right angles to the couch I sat on. On that couch sat a couple like Henri Serre and Jeanne Moreau from the film Jules and Jim. The couple told me they were going to have a baby.
A child to my left, who looked like my oldest nephew, lay on the couch. At the announcement, he held his hands to his head and rolled softly left and right in anguish. I tried to comfort him.
Now the scene started over again. I was carrying somebody "up the stairs" to this room. But it was actually like we were walking across a chain-link-suspended board bridge, like in a playground -- except that this bridge was made of very nice, dark wood.
I knelt in front of the couch. The man and woman made their announcement. My nephew lay (perhaps naked) on the couch. I nestled my head in between his neck and shoulder and whispered something to him about how everything would be alright and how his parents still wanted him.
Dream #3
I had gone somewhere with my old boss and mentor EB, possibly to his house and then shopping. EB told me he wanted me to keep dressing well, and that I should try to dress even better. He said his wife GB would want me to do the same thing.
I now sat in some penthouse, looking out over a huge deck on some building-top in the middle of the city. I could see the whole city. It was daytime. I was staying as a guest in this house. Some friends were with me. We watched as some people walked back and forth on the deck, as if the deck were a plaza. I told my friends that I had seen EB's house and that it was huge.
EB and GB now walked past. GB looked tall and slinky. She wore a tight, purple and white dress which somehow accentuated the lower part of her belly too much. EB wore a pale blue, button-up dress shirt. But he also wore a ruffly, black skirt, and he was carrying a purse. He might even have been wearing high heels. At first I couldn't believe my eyes. Then I couldn't figure out why he was wearing what he was wearing.
Showing posts with label friend GB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friend GB. Show all posts
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Saturday, February 9, 2013
(10/30/07) kidney-shaped table; thursday party; disgruntled clown
(Entered in paper journal at 5:30 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
It was a grey-blue day. I walked along a city street, like out on a waterfront, or, rather, beside a wide street under an overpass, with a group of friends, one of whom was AT, one of the Directors of my department. AT spoke on a cell phone with one of my co-workers, either about his having advertised that he was quitting his job or else about his having advertised unseemly views about the company.
We walked up a staircase to our right and into a brick row-house. AT was concluding her call as she walked into the house. The house had an empty feel to it. It was dim. I sat at a dining table that backed (on my left) against a weirdly shaped wall of oddly set doorways. There were probably blankets all over the floors. The table itself may have had a weird, kidney-like shape.
AT was down the hallway (behind me). A few people filtered into the room. Among them was my co-worker DE, with whom AT had been on the phone.
DE was mad at me. He had been blamed for AT's anger, claiming that I'd told AT that he had been advertising something against the company. I tried to remember what I had said. It had been on the walk outside. I thought it had been harmless. But now I realized it wasn't. I still tried to convince myself I had said something harmless.
Dream #2
I got done at some social event like a cocktail party for a friend. The whole thing seemed to have been held on a stage, the surface of which looked like a model's runway. I stepped down from it, into an area (like an orchestra pit?) full of technical equipment like hospital equipment or sound equipment. The whole room now seemed like a somewhat large sound-stage.
I stood in front of my old boss and mentor EB and his wife GB. EB and GB sat on tall swivel chairs, like for a breakfast bar. Both EB and BG looked really healthy and happy. They asked me if I was coming to their party on Thursday. I hesitated. I saw, though, that GB had picked up on and disapproved of my hesitation. So I caught myself and said, "Ah... Thursday? Yeah, that sounds good."
Dream #3
I walked, possibly with a group of friends/co-workers, on a desert road on the outskirts of the suburbs. It was a warm, gold and blue day. I had reached some point along the walk and realized it was a long way to walk to my destination and that I might not get there on time.
I was now in a car with a group of friends/co-workers. We drove to a restaurant. We finished eating and headed back outside. As we left the restaurant the interior appeared grey, crowded, and steamy. Even the windows seemed clouded up with steam.
Outside, the area was like a filling station. Everybody else had gone back to the car. I told them I would walk. I probably wasn't in a hurry "now that we had made our meeting."
I walked up a street, 39th Street, which might have been the street from which it was a long distance to the meeting. The intersection I turned right on had a very deserty feel. But now I walked down a street which, on my side, the right side, anyway, was just a long, long suburban street.
I walked past a two-story house of maroon-painted brick with a row of tan-painted brick separating the two floors. As I gazed at the building, a man's shout startled me. I saw, up in the distance, a man walking my way. I tried not to act upset or startled.
I now walked in the shade of a row of very short houses. The man approached me. He looked clownish -- fattish, dumpy, with long tufts of bushy hair on either side of his head. He wore baggy, roundish, hobo-style clothes, a bowler hat, and possibly a beer-drinking hat. There were some bright colors on him somewhere.
The man was going on and on, as if he were ranting at someone on a cell phone. He said, "I told them, Hey! You aren't gonna fire me. You aren't gonna do that to me!"
We crossed paths. But then the man turned and followed me from a distance, continuing to act like he was speaking on a cell phone but now also implicating me in his conversation.
Dream #1
It was a grey-blue day. I walked along a city street, like out on a waterfront, or, rather, beside a wide street under an overpass, with a group of friends, one of whom was AT, one of the Directors of my department. AT spoke on a cell phone with one of my co-workers, either about his having advertised that he was quitting his job or else about his having advertised unseemly views about the company.
We walked up a staircase to our right and into a brick row-house. AT was concluding her call as she walked into the house. The house had an empty feel to it. It was dim. I sat at a dining table that backed (on my left) against a weirdly shaped wall of oddly set doorways. There were probably blankets all over the floors. The table itself may have had a weird, kidney-like shape.
AT was down the hallway (behind me). A few people filtered into the room. Among them was my co-worker DE, with whom AT had been on the phone.
DE was mad at me. He had been blamed for AT's anger, claiming that I'd told AT that he had been advertising something against the company. I tried to remember what I had said. It had been on the walk outside. I thought it had been harmless. But now I realized it wasn't. I still tried to convince myself I had said something harmless.
Dream #2
I got done at some social event like a cocktail party for a friend. The whole thing seemed to have been held on a stage, the surface of which looked like a model's runway. I stepped down from it, into an area (like an orchestra pit?) full of technical equipment like hospital equipment or sound equipment. The whole room now seemed like a somewhat large sound-stage.
I stood in front of my old boss and mentor EB and his wife GB. EB and GB sat on tall swivel chairs, like for a breakfast bar. Both EB and BG looked really healthy and happy. They asked me if I was coming to their party on Thursday. I hesitated. I saw, though, that GB had picked up on and disapproved of my hesitation. So I caught myself and said, "Ah... Thursday? Yeah, that sounds good."
Dream #3
I walked, possibly with a group of friends/co-workers, on a desert road on the outskirts of the suburbs. It was a warm, gold and blue day. I had reached some point along the walk and realized it was a long way to walk to my destination and that I might not get there on time.
I was now in a car with a group of friends/co-workers. We drove to a restaurant. We finished eating and headed back outside. As we left the restaurant the interior appeared grey, crowded, and steamy. Even the windows seemed clouded up with steam.
Outside, the area was like a filling station. Everybody else had gone back to the car. I told them I would walk. I probably wasn't in a hurry "now that we had made our meeting."
I walked up a street, 39th Street, which might have been the street from which it was a long distance to the meeting. The intersection I turned right on had a very deserty feel. But now I walked down a street which, on my side, the right side, anyway, was just a long, long suburban street.
I walked past a two-story house of maroon-painted brick with a row of tan-painted brick separating the two floors. As I gazed at the building, a man's shout startled me. I saw, up in the distance, a man walking my way. I tried not to act upset or startled.
I now walked in the shade of a row of very short houses. The man approached me. He looked clownish -- fattish, dumpy, with long tufts of bushy hair on either side of his head. He wore baggy, roundish, hobo-style clothes, a bowler hat, and possibly a beer-drinking hat. There were some bright colors on him somewhere.
The man was going on and on, as if he were ranting at someone on a cell phone. He said, "I told them, Hey! You aren't gonna fire me. You aren't gonna do that to me!"
We crossed paths. But then the man turned and followed me from a distance, continuing to act like he was speaking on a cell phone but now also implicating me in his conversation.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
(1/9/10) my boss looks smart
(Entered in paper journal at 9:21 AM at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a restaurant with my old boss EB. The place was an Asian food restaurant of some sort, possibly Japanese. The place looked more like a darkish bar, with no chairs or tables, but a couple of sofas in the center of the room, a bar on the left all, and a smaller bar on the back wall. The floors and bars were dark wood. The place was pretty empty. A few people milled around. They mostly seemed like workers.
EB had to leave. I got my food and sat down by myself. The people milled around closer to me, slowing down and kind of regarding me, not suspiciously, but close. There were pretty girls and young looking, skinny guys. They all looked Southeast Asian, with dark copper skin.
I finished most of my food and was now wading my white, plastic spoon through puddles of something like soy sauce and clumps of rice. One of the young men sat at the bar along the back wall. I sat in a sofa or a chair, at an angle, so that the man was behind me and to my right. The man faced me, his back to the bar.
The young man asked me, trying, with a friendly tone of voice, to mask his annoyance at my presence, "Why are you here?" He might then have told me, "Non-Asian people usually don't eat here." I thought I'd tell the young man that I liked the food, so I liked coming here.
But now EB was back. I was sitting somewhere slightly different from where I had been sitting before. There were now a few white people in the restaurant. I wondered how EB would fit into the environment of the quasi-suspicious people.
But EB, standing by a middle-aged, Japanese woman, pointed to a painting on the right wall and asked some question in Japanese, which I understood (?). EB had asked if the painting had come from a specific region. EB's Japanese was excellent. Even the woman was impressed. She possibly confirmed that the painting had come from the region EB had specified. EB said, in English, that he and his wife GB had gone there for a holiday, and that they had loved the place very much. I was impressed with how cultured EB was.
I was now standing near or sitting at the bar. EB stood to my left, leaning against the bar, obviously trying to talk with me. But now all the girls in the bar (possibly including two blonde twins I'd met one night at the Top Tunes karaoke bar) were all going crazy over EB. They were asking him questions which seemed to prove even more how intelligent he was.
I think EB was trying, as he enjoyed himself with the girls, to make the people in the restaurant feel like it was okay for me to be around. Nobody was even paying attention to me, anyway. I sat down on the chair (or sofa?) and began fiddling with my food again.
Dream #1
I was in a restaurant with my old boss EB. The place was an Asian food restaurant of some sort, possibly Japanese. The place looked more like a darkish bar, with no chairs or tables, but a couple of sofas in the center of the room, a bar on the left all, and a smaller bar on the back wall. The floors and bars were dark wood. The place was pretty empty. A few people milled around. They mostly seemed like workers.
EB had to leave. I got my food and sat down by myself. The people milled around closer to me, slowing down and kind of regarding me, not suspiciously, but close. There were pretty girls and young looking, skinny guys. They all looked Southeast Asian, with dark copper skin.
I finished most of my food and was now wading my white, plastic spoon through puddles of something like soy sauce and clumps of rice. One of the young men sat at the bar along the back wall. I sat in a sofa or a chair, at an angle, so that the man was behind me and to my right. The man faced me, his back to the bar.
The young man asked me, trying, with a friendly tone of voice, to mask his annoyance at my presence, "Why are you here?" He might then have told me, "Non-Asian people usually don't eat here." I thought I'd tell the young man that I liked the food, so I liked coming here.
But now EB was back. I was sitting somewhere slightly different from where I had been sitting before. There were now a few white people in the restaurant. I wondered how EB would fit into the environment of the quasi-suspicious people.
But EB, standing by a middle-aged, Japanese woman, pointed to a painting on the right wall and asked some question in Japanese, which I understood (?). EB had asked if the painting had come from a specific region. EB's Japanese was excellent. Even the woman was impressed. She possibly confirmed that the painting had come from the region EB had specified. EB said, in English, that he and his wife GB had gone there for a holiday, and that they had loved the place very much. I was impressed with how cultured EB was.
I was now standing near or sitting at the bar. EB stood to my left, leaning against the bar, obviously trying to talk with me. But now all the girls in the bar (possibly including two blonde twins I'd met one night at the Top Tunes karaoke bar) were all going crazy over EB. They were asking him questions which seemed to prove even more how intelligent he was.
I think EB was trying, as he enjoyed himself with the girls, to make the people in the restaurant feel like it was okay for me to be around. Nobody was even paying attention to me, anyway. I sat down on the chair (or sofa?) and began fiddling with my food again.
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