(Entered in paper journal at 7:45 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was wandering around a square track of grassy land, in a "path" like a mowed or heavily rolled-over strip of grass. It was a sunny day, a little humid, the air yellow-white against the blue sky.
My family was nearby. I was walking my way back to them. I had had to get something or do something for them. But I might not have been able to do this. Now, working my way up the last stretch of grass, i saw my family sitting out on two slopes, as if I were down in a level rut, and my family were up at both tops of the rut.
My family sat in white, plastic chairs, partly in shade and partly in light. Just beyond them was a grey, rectangular house like a double-wide trailer. This may have been my great grandmother's house. I knew I'd probably had to do something for my great grandmother, who was going to die. My great grandmother was going to die regardless of whether I completed the task. The task was more like an act of kindness or nostalgia, like locating an old object.
I could now hear some of my old family members talking. The people sitting outside, I could tell, without quite seeing, were my cousin AH, my great grandmother, my grandfather, probably my mother, and a couple other people.
I knew now that my great grandma had a disease affecting her brain, like Alzheimer's disease. My cousin was speaking very cheerfully, but I could tell she was trying to be cruel to my great grandma. She said something that sounded at first like she was going to tell my great grandma, "You're doomed. You're basically already dead." But she then changed what she said, sounding more innocent and naive.
She then said, "And then I thought, Well, why don't I make a test? So I said, 'Grandma, first touch XXXXX's top button, then touch XXXXX's second button, then come back and touch XXXXX's top button, then go touch all the buttons on everybody's sweaters.'"
(I could see that everybody sitting in the chairs wore big, baggy, knit, tan, wool sweaters which had large buttons down their fronts, like the puffs down the front of a clown's outfit.)
My cousin continued, "When you couldn't accomplish this task, Grandma, I thought to myself, Yep. That's it. Grandma's mind is going for sure. She'll be gone soon."
I now looked up, seeing the ceiling of my great grandma's back dining room -- the one from her waking life house, not the double-wide trailer. Light from the back window passed across the ceiling, glazing over the light fixture.
I thought to myself, Why did AH have to say such a cruel thing? I was mad, but suddenly I was very sad.
I looked before me. My sister, who was a thin girl wearing a pale purple, long-underwear-style shirt, came up to me and hugged me. As she did, AH walked into the dining room and sat down at the table.
AH said, "And then I said, 'How weak is that? To get so upset over such a nobody dying? I always knew he was so weak emotionally.'"
My sister was now gone. I was infuriated. I knew AH had been taunting me, implying that I was weak for caring about my great grandma.
I turned to face AH, who now looked like a girl C, a girl about my sister's age, who ended up being like another member of my immediate family. AH kept on taunting me, talking about how weak I was, for crying because my great grandmother had died.
AH was now seated in some weird way, so that she was backed against the corner of the room, her right side facing the window. I punched her in the nose. She just leered at me like it didn't even hurt. So I punched her again and again, until her nose was red with blood. Still she acted like she couldn't even feel anything.
Now my sister came in and began yelling at AH. My sister asked how AH could dare to taunt me like this. AH, now looking like herself, but at about the age of fourteen, stood with her back to the window, right about in the center of the window. I kept punching AH in the nose as my sister kept yelling at her.
Suddenly the window was broken in a fragmented, shard-tattered arch, arcing about halfway up the window. AH stood outside the window. Her nose was so busted open that it was just like a red blot on her face. She stood on the lawn, is if the lawn outside were level with the kitchen floor inside.
In the outdoor light, AH's face took on a pale, almost purplish-white glow, as if AH were being camcorded and the image was slightly light-shocked. AH had a spattering of blood on her face, circling around her nose. The blood looked almost bright maroon, more like cranberry sauce than blood.
AH shouted, reproachfully and furiously, "Why did you have to do such a cruel thing to your cousin? To your own cousin?!" She ran away to the right. I suddenly realized that I had hit my cousin, I had hit a girl. I couldn't believe I had done such a cowardly, cruel thing. I got so panicked that I screamed out. (I actually believe I woke from this dream scream-whimpering.)
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