Saturday, December 29, 2012

(2/19/09) butt imprints; baby alligators

(Entered in paper journal at 9:45 AM at Starbucks on Forty-third street and Park Avenue in Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I was in a big room like a restaurant or a stage version of a restaurant. There may have been two levels. The walls and floor were brown, but brown like pale brown paint, not like wood.

There was a pool table somewhere. I may have been plaing pool with a few tough-looking guys. At some point I may have bent over to make a shot (or because I was afraid of something and was trying to avoid it).

My bottom hit agaisnt the wall. Some of the tough guys, ho were standing behind a bar, but standing up a couple feet, as if they were on a small stage, gradually began making comments on the marks my bottom had left on the wall. The gradual comments became laughter.

I felt ashamed for having let my bottom hit the wall, which I felt was a very feminine thing to have done. I looked at the wall. There were two circular marks on the wall -- separated, with some wrinkling around them, so the marks looked like archaic "drawings" of owl eyes.

I wondered how my buttocks could have made such an image -- especially now that I had gained weight. It looked like the circles were made by the tops of my femur bones -- like I was so skinny that the tops of my femur bones were poking through the flesh of my buttocks.

The image was now projected, large as a movie screen image, on the wall behind the tough guys.


Dream #2

I was in a wide and spacious, but low-ceilinged, room. The light was dim, as if at the edges of the room were wall-height and length windows which let in the only light in the room. The feel was like (my conception of) the interior of Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water house -- stone floors, polished, and sparse furniture. But it also felt like some kind of kitchen or school area.

There were people all over, of different ages, probably up to their late twenties. We were all taking care of different tasks, like school projects. I sat a little off to myself.

There were blankets scattered near me, and maybe all over the room. Before me was a little box, like a dog's bed for inside the house. But there were "baby alligators" in the bed, under some small, soft pastel-colored blankets. The baby alligators were green, almost plastic-looking. Their heads were wide, maybe three inches wide and four inches long, and their bodies, including tails, weren't much longer. There were maybe three baby alligators.

A woman, who was like our teacher, had walked away from me. She may have looked like a zookeeper, with a tan shorts-uniform. She may have had pale skin and short, feathery, red hair (like brown hair dyed red). I may have resented the woman, like I'd resent some worker in a mental hospital who didn't think I, as a patient, was of any consequence.

I wasn't left with any instructions, and I didn't have any idea whether I was supposed to wait with the baby alligators or if the woman was coming right back, so that if she returned and saw me here, she'd accuse me of being lazy for just sitting around.

I looked up. Now, instead of there being a ceiling, there was a strange structure of framing that reached up pretty high. It occurred to me that one of the baby alligators had been lost. The woman was going looking for the alligator. But now I knew the alligator was at the top of structure, which was mattress on a structure like loft bed.

I climbed up the structure. The sky was blue and the day was warm. The structure was made up of things like sheds, bedframes, roofs, and ladders. All around the structure was a run-down area of weeds and trees, like a back lot or an unkempt backyard.

I climbed up one last ladder and was now on the top mattress. Laying, I scooted to the very edge of the mattress and peered over. Below me was a city scene, as if I were at the top of a very tall building. I got a little giddy. But the alligator wasn't here.

Now a group of people were calling for me. I looked down the structure, to the house (maybe one hundred feet below, at most). The house's ceiling had a big, rough hole in it, from which this junk structure seemed to spew.

The woman and a few other people, including some pale, hippie-like guys, all stood looking up, calling for me. One of the guys was shielding his eyes from the sun with his (right?) hand. The guys now called out to me, "You dumb ass! You were supposed to wait down here! All the alligators are down here! What the hell are you doing way up there?"

I could see that the woman cradled a baby alligator in a pastel blanket in her arms. I felt like an idiot -- I was supposed to watch the baby alligators after all!

I climbed down the ladder. I was almost to the bottom of the ladder when the bottom end started pivoting upward. I knew that the ladder was only connected to the structure by a pivot point in the middle. If there wasn't a balance of weight, the side with more weight would pivot down, pulling up the opposite side. For some reason (even though I stood on the bottom of the ladder and nothing else was on top), the bottom end had less weight and was pivoting upward.

My end now stood high in the air, a few feet (in arc) from the mattress. I looked down. It was a long was down, like from the top of a skyscraper. But the way down was all composed by framing, like that of the bridges for subway trains when they go above ground.I got extremely giddy again -- so giddy that I woke up with the shakes.

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