(12/16/04) brownstone out-of-body experience; r jealous of me and y; being stalked as a transvestite

(Entered in paper journal at 7:10 PM at my friend ML's house in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I was possibly at ML's house. I came down from the top bunk of ML's bed, possibly by floating down. I either heard or said some things and was either scrutinized for my speech or not noticed at all.

Then I was suddenly in front of a brownstone staircase. It was still night. The staircase light lit the brown steps, which stood behind a tallish (?) cast iron gate. I could only see a bit of it, though I saw it intensely, as if my vision were overexposed.

I turned around. I scared some guy in a suit. I told myself either that I was having a dream or that I was having an out-of-body experience. I told myself to calm down and focus.

Dream 2

It was daytime. I was on something like a tall building's rooftop with my friend R. We sat at a small, rectangular table that was made of wood and was covered with a white tablecloth.

R spoke to me about some bad things his ex-wife and my best friend Y had done. He kept talking about what a bad person Y was. I knew mainly he just didn't want me to talk to her anymore, out of jealousy for our friendship.

I picked up my phone and put it to my ear to call someone. But Y was already on the other end of the line. I was somewhat happy to hear from her. The conversation continued for a "few minutes," then seemed to vanish. The table switched from the right edge of the building roof to the top edge, and my position switched with R's.

I told R that I didn't call Y or even plan to call her behind his back, that she'd called me, but that I also wasn't going to just blow her off. But R still looked at me as if he wanted to kill me.

(NOTE (2017) -- Unfortunately in waking life I did neglect my relationship with my friend Y and ended up killing one of the best friendships I ever had in my life.)

Dream 3

Barely remembered. I had some letters. They were either addressed to me obliquely or not addressed to me at all. But somehow R was about to intercept them. But somehow, again, R had sent them to me.

The "letters" were all postcards that implied that R was stalking and hunting me because he was sexually attracted to me as a transvestite. The postcards showed increasingly lewd scenes of garishly costumed transvestites in a dance club with naked, muscular, attractive men.

Knowing R, I knew that he had sent these postcards to imply that these men, like R, were planning to kill transvestites, like he/they would kill me, because R/the men believed we deserved to be killed.

(9/28/06) space age jet plane restaurant; the lotus bend; postcard from brother

(Entered in paper journal at 4:50 AM on 4-train from Utica Avenue in Brooklyn to Manhattan.)

Dream 1

I walked through a wide street of tallish buildings in the sunshine and a pale blue sky. I saw a jet plane fly by over the buildings. The jet was white, triangular but somehow sleek, with red edges. Where the air intakes should have been were huge windows.

I was walking with someone. I asked, "How do they always appear so classy in those things?"

Inside what was apparently this passenger plane groups of people sat at nice tables like at a restaurant. There was one attendant per table. All attendants wore black. The attendants would bring food from what looked like a concierge desk. The "restaurant" (from the inside) had an atmosphere like you might expect at the Seattle space needle. I feel like I was expecting a view of a space shuttle through the windows.

Dream 2

It was night. I ran along a street and then turned right, into a field like a vacant lot. I was testing the ease with which this area could be traveled through in order to obtain something valuable to the stock of a company I was researching.

As I ran through the lot of wild grass tufts and gravely soil and I approached a river, the land became soggier and soggier. Finally I headed down to the river at a bend that was stuffed with waterlilies and lotuses. The night was very purple here. I walked across the river, which was not deeper than the height of my shoes.

It was day. I brought someone from the sales team at my work with me. We ran off the street into the open field. Cars could be seen occasionally on a distant road like a rural highway as we ran. We got closer to the river right away. We stopped by some craggy trees and made adjustments to our gear.

We continued running. The ground got soggier and soggier. Finally it started developing puddles. By the time we got to the "lotus bend" the river and the ground were equally deluged.

I told the guy from sales, "Don't worry. Last night I stepped into the river and it was extremely easy to walk through."

I took a step into the river and the water, dirty, waved up below me. I was being carried in rolling waves. So was the person with me. Occasionally a "lotus" would drift past us.

After the waves had carried us back to the trees where we had stopped to change gear they disappeared altogether, leaving us on dry land. My feet were bare. One of my big toes had a big, circular wound on it.

I thought, How could I have gone in such dirty water with that wound on my foot? The salesperson (MJ?) and I were talking about something, but I could only think about the wound on my foot.

My legs were soaked. I looked at my feet again. I was wearing white tennis shoes which were covered in muck. I saw something in a couple of holes in the shoes that made me think the flesh on my feet was rotting away, turning green.

I panicked. MJ (?) asked if everything was alright. I crouched to check out my feet. I wiped all the muck off my shoes. I realized the grossness in the holes in my shoes was just the way the dirty water and muck had stained my socks.

I told MJ, "Everything's okay. I'll be fine."

Dream 3

Something to do with solar power. I stood at a "hotel" desk in a warehouse-like building that was immaculate and filled with gentle waves of yellow, red, and purple light. It was almost like Grand Central Station.

Someone was in line ahead of me. The person behind the desk, an Asian man, spoke to us about something regarding solar power. I handed him a card like a postcard. The man analyzed it, handed it back, and made a judgment on me, like "You have too much OTC to make the night journey."

I read the back of the postcard. It was from my brother. There was only a little writing, in a sloppy hand. As I read it, I thought of how badly I've always treated my brother.