(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 trying to stop disaster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trying to stop disaster. Show all posts
Monday, March 20, 2017
Sunday, March 19, 2017
(11/15-16/04) crypt on a cliff; hiding toenails from george w bush; i heard an explosion
(NOTE: As I mention in future entries, by this point I was not recording all of my dreams in my dedicated dream journals. So some of my dreams would be recorded only in my daytime journals. Another complication is that my dreams are not recorded on a daily basis, i.e. I don't always record my dreams punctually, the day after the night I have them. Instead, I might record two or three days' worth of dreams in one daytime journal entry. This is the case below. Where this is the case, and I don't have any dream journal entries to connect my daytime entries to, I will put all the dreams recorded in the daytime journal in one entry and note in the entry header what days the entry documents.)
(Journal entry actually from 11/17/04)
I wrote down the dreams remembered from last night in the Ghost Book. I have a couple other dreams, two from two nights ago and one from -- somehow I just now forgot the one from Sunday night. Nope. There we go.
(11/16/04)
Monday night.
Dream 1
A woodcut, like an illustration on a page. A temple or "vault"/"crypt" on a tall rock-cliff surrounded by other, much taller, cliffs. The ink was greenish, a deepish blue-green. The texturing was very stylized yet naturalistic. The "crypt" was rectangular, tall, narrow, with a triangular roof set on top, with a circle in the center.
Dream 2
I walked into some living room with either a friend or my mother. The room was long and wide, though really tacky, almost like a ski-lodge version of an old trailer home. At the back was a huge, wide, tall window and in front of the window a smallish, round dinner table.
George W. Bush sat at that table, his back to the window. To his right stood some woman who was possibly supposed to be his wife. Bush was also accompanied by a few other folks, some of whom feel like they were security.
I walked up to them, having been brought because I was a "funny guy" or for some strange reason. I sat down beside Bush and said something that immediately set him at ease.
I knew now that Bush wanted to give me some kind of important position. I suddenly realized I had no socks or shoes on. My toenails were all unclipped and ugly. I thought, If I start the job and look like this I'll be ridiculed by everybody.
I had somehow switched seats with Bush. I tilted my feet so I could curl and conceal my toes in the plushy, cheap, grey carpet. I thought of refusing Bush's offer.
Bush suddenly grabbed both my hands and held them up to his forehead, crying. He said something like, "How could they have lost it for me? We're all going to lose it. I've already lost. I can tell."
(11/15/04)
Sunday night.
Dream 1
I may have been driving a car through the city. At some point I saw a diagram of the World Trade Center towers with a tunnel under them. In the tunnel was a lavender-colored, card-shaped rectangle upright and with a purple circle in its center.
The WTC towers had been attacked, but it was also like they hadn't been attacked. But now some women's group was going to "finish the job they had started twenty years ago." Some demands had not been met. They were going to set off the device. I saw a pixelated expansion of lavender and purple squares boggling upward through the outline diagram of the towers.
I, now, driving through the town, had to do something, but I can't remember exactly what. I may have wanted to jet out of there. I may have wanted to go to the women's group and prove that I wasn't at fault so they would not blow up the towers (as if I were in the towers right then). I may have wanted to travel down and disarm the bomb. And I may have wanted to convince myself (and the whole "material" world, somehow) that the bomb hadn't really been set and that nothing was going to happen to the towers.
Then I heard an explosion.
(Journal entry actually from 11/17/04)
I wrote down the dreams remembered from last night in the Ghost Book. I have a couple other dreams, two from two nights ago and one from -- somehow I just now forgot the one from Sunday night. Nope. There we go.
(11/16/04)
Monday night.
Dream 1
A woodcut, like an illustration on a page. A temple or "vault"/"crypt" on a tall rock-cliff surrounded by other, much taller, cliffs. The ink was greenish, a deepish blue-green. The texturing was very stylized yet naturalistic. The "crypt" was rectangular, tall, narrow, with a triangular roof set on top, with a circle in the center.
Dream 2
I walked into some living room with either a friend or my mother. The room was long and wide, though really tacky, almost like a ski-lodge version of an old trailer home. At the back was a huge, wide, tall window and in front of the window a smallish, round dinner table.
George W. Bush sat at that table, his back to the window. To his right stood some woman who was possibly supposed to be his wife. Bush was also accompanied by a few other folks, some of whom feel like they were security.
I walked up to them, having been brought because I was a "funny guy" or for some strange reason. I sat down beside Bush and said something that immediately set him at ease.
I knew now that Bush wanted to give me some kind of important position. I suddenly realized I had no socks or shoes on. My toenails were all unclipped and ugly. I thought, If I start the job and look like this I'll be ridiculed by everybody.
I had somehow switched seats with Bush. I tilted my feet so I could curl and conceal my toes in the plushy, cheap, grey carpet. I thought of refusing Bush's offer.
Bush suddenly grabbed both my hands and held them up to his forehead, crying. He said something like, "How could they have lost it for me? We're all going to lose it. I've already lost. I can tell."
(11/15/04)
Sunday night.
Dream 1
I may have been driving a car through the city. At some point I saw a diagram of the World Trade Center towers with a tunnel under them. In the tunnel was a lavender-colored, card-shaped rectangle upright and with a purple circle in its center.
The WTC towers had been attacked, but it was also like they hadn't been attacked. But now some women's group was going to "finish the job they had started twenty years ago." Some demands had not been met. They were going to set off the device. I saw a pixelated expansion of lavender and purple squares boggling upward through the outline diagram of the towers.
I, now, driving through the town, had to do something, but I can't remember exactly what. I may have wanted to jet out of there. I may have wanted to go to the women's group and prove that I wasn't at fault so they would not blow up the towers (as if I were in the towers right then). I may have wanted to travel down and disarm the bomb. And I may have wanted to convince myself (and the whole "material" world, somehow) that the bomb hadn't really been set and that nothing was going to happen to the towers.
Then I heard an explosion.
(11/19/04) sexy transvestite tano; bomb bullies
(Entered in paper journal at 5:30 AM at my friend R's house in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
Looking at back of magazine (?) like television on back of it. Beautiful women countdown. Number one is Tano, some Latina woman. She sings song in orange bikini, then at some point pulls bikini bottom wrong way. Penis pops out. Starts swimming in swimming pool. Voice over says Tano found sexy because she is transvestite.
Dream 2
Classroom. Kid opens door part way. Puts bomb in. Girl in hallway sees, goes one way then other to tell someone. Bullies meet her. Somehow friend bashes into her and trips up bullies, too. Slow-mo replay -- now girls in white underwear. Some guy sees bomb surreptitiously and goes and tells principal. (Now vision of ailanthus tree with privet berries.) Voice over of guy: "And that's how I became XXXXX." (Something to do with high position in park service.)
(Daytime journal entry corresponding to these dreams.)
Both dreams I remembered from last night are pretty well recorded in the Ghost Book. Here are some additions.
Dream 1
I don't think "Tano" actually pulled the bikini bottom at all. I think she got an erection, and the penis simply popped out of her bikini bottom. During the rest of the dream Tan's bikini bottom's crotch was slid over to the side to reveal Tano's penis.
Tano swam in a strange way in a pool that seems to have been about fifteen feet deep. She would quickly surge to the bottom and then arc back up quickly.
The swimming pool was in the backyard of some tiered, beige-pink stucco, Art Deco mansion. The design for the advertisement on which I saw this picture was Old West-style, beige-tan with large "Tombstone" style lettering, like an old "wanted" poster.
The woman, by the way, was blonde with deeply tanned skin.
Dream 2
The bomb was like a canteen, a flat-sided, circular shape with a spout opening on top.
It seemed to be made of light-wood-style veneer, the same as the classroom door, and lined on its edges with silvery aluminum. It also seemed to hook directly into the classroom door, as if it melded straight in with it.
It was placed only about eighteen inches up from the floor, but the door seemed to have a jamb (NOTE (2017) -- I think I meant to say latch), i.e. the part that springs in and out of the side and into the doorframe hole when you turn the knob,
and the bomb seemed to fit right over this thing or cancel it out altogether. The circle part of the "canteen" butted against the door while the spout headed against the frame.
I saw all this as if I were on my hands and knees. But "I" wasn't the one in this situation.
The lockers across this hallway were dark purple. Strangely enough, they may have been half-height lockers, not stacked one on top of the other, yet somehow taking up just as much height as regular lockers. Or they may simply have been regular-height lockers.
At first the hallway was empty and the girl in it was there on some off chance. But as soon as she thought she should tell, the hallway was a little busy, as if a couple classes had just gotten out.
The hallway had a right intersection just a way up from the woman after she turned right and headed up the hallway. It was from the right intersection that the two bullies hustled out. The bullies were white, thick-necked, slug-like, and almost preppy-like, as well.
Now as the bullies rushed at the girl a couple other guys saw what was about to happen and knew why it was going to happen. They all wanted to do something to stop it from happening and to help the girl tell the (principal?) about the bomb. But they were really afraid of the bullies.
The girl got knocked to the ground. She flew a bit and fell right on her back. The slow-mo replay was of two girls, both in white bikini panties and white, close-hugging tank-tops.
Dream 1
Looking at back of magazine (?) like television on back of it. Beautiful women countdown. Number one is Tano, some Latina woman. She sings song in orange bikini, then at some point pulls bikini bottom wrong way. Penis pops out. Starts swimming in swimming pool. Voice over says Tano found sexy because she is transvestite.
Dream 2
Classroom. Kid opens door part way. Puts bomb in. Girl in hallway sees, goes one way then other to tell someone. Bullies meet her. Somehow friend bashes into her and trips up bullies, too. Slow-mo replay -- now girls in white underwear. Some guy sees bomb surreptitiously and goes and tells principal. (Now vision of ailanthus tree with privet berries.) Voice over of guy: "And that's how I became XXXXX." (Something to do with high position in park service.)
(Daytime journal entry corresponding to these dreams.)
Both dreams I remembered from last night are pretty well recorded in the Ghost Book. Here are some additions.
Dream 1
I don't think "Tano" actually pulled the bikini bottom at all. I think she got an erection, and the penis simply popped out of her bikini bottom. During the rest of the dream Tan's bikini bottom's crotch was slid over to the side to reveal Tano's penis.
Tano swam in a strange way in a pool that seems to have been about fifteen feet deep. She would quickly surge to the bottom and then arc back up quickly.
The swimming pool was in the backyard of some tiered, beige-pink stucco, Art Deco mansion. The design for the advertisement on which I saw this picture was Old West-style, beige-tan with large "Tombstone" style lettering, like an old "wanted" poster.
The woman, by the way, was blonde with deeply tanned skin.
Dream 2
The bomb was like a canteen, a flat-sided, circular shape with a spout opening on top.
It seemed to be made of light-wood-style veneer, the same as the classroom door, and lined on its edges with silvery aluminum. It also seemed to hook directly into the classroom door, as if it melded straight in with it.
It was placed only about eighteen inches up from the floor, but the door seemed to have a jamb (NOTE (2017) -- I think I meant to say latch), i.e. the part that springs in and out of the side and into the doorframe hole when you turn the knob,
and the bomb seemed to fit right over this thing or cancel it out altogether. The circle part of the "canteen" butted against the door while the spout headed against the frame.
I saw all this as if I were on my hands and knees. But "I" wasn't the one in this situation.
The lockers across this hallway were dark purple. Strangely enough, they may have been half-height lockers, not stacked one on top of the other, yet somehow taking up just as much height as regular lockers. Or they may simply have been regular-height lockers.
At first the hallway was empty and the girl in it was there on some off chance. But as soon as she thought she should tell, the hallway was a little busy, as if a couple classes had just gotten out.
The hallway had a right intersection just a way up from the woman after she turned right and headed up the hallway. It was from the right intersection that the two bullies hustled out. The bullies were white, thick-necked, slug-like, and almost preppy-like, as well.
Now as the bullies rushed at the girl a couple other guys saw what was about to happen and knew why it was going to happen. They all wanted to do something to stop it from happening and to help the girl tell the (principal?) about the bomb. But they were really afraid of the bullies.
The girl got knocked to the ground. She flew a bit and fell right on her back. The slow-mo replay was of two girls, both in white bikini panties and white, close-hugging tank-tops.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
(5/17/05) stop the disaster
(Entered in paper journal at 6 PM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I stood along a greenbelt or some park-like area that ran beside a street. Planes filled the sky and began crashing down. I had to dodge one.
Now I was in the backseat of a car. In the driver's seat was Stephen King. There were two or three other people in the car. Everybody except I spoke about this new disaster with the hijacked airplanes.
Suddenly I remembered I had dreamed this and written it in my dream book. I felt frightened of the coincidence and guilty that I had done nothing, with this foresight, to stop the disaster. But I also thought I might be able to do something now that I recognized everything.
I burst out in tears. I tried to tell Stephen King clearly that I had had precognitive knowledge of the disaster. King got upset and told me that psychic phenomena aren't real and are only for novels.
I was ashamed to have been told this by King. But it was also like I hadn't even heard him. I shuffled through my dream book, trying to find the dream in question.
Dream 1
I stood along a greenbelt or some park-like area that ran beside a street. Planes filled the sky and began crashing down. I had to dodge one.
Now I was in the backseat of a car. In the driver's seat was Stephen King. There were two or three other people in the car. Everybody except I spoke about this new disaster with the hijacked airplanes.
Suddenly I remembered I had dreamed this and written it in my dream book. I felt frightened of the coincidence and guilty that I had done nothing, with this foresight, to stop the disaster. But I also thought I might be able to do something now that I recognized everything.
I burst out in tears. I tried to tell Stephen King clearly that I had had precognitive knowledge of the disaster. King got upset and told me that psychic phenomena aren't real and are only for novels.
I was ashamed to have been told this by King. But it was also like I hadn't even heard him. I shuffled through my dream book, trying to find the dream in question.
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