(Entered in paper journal at 8 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was driving in a car along a hill in very dark night. Down the hill I saw a city which I thought of as Albuquerque. The city was spiral, in an almost hexagonal pattern. I felt like I lived in a trailer on the outskirts of the town.
From the center of teh city the "power" went out. The very center of the city was black, lightless, except a tiny circle of light, as in the center of a pentagon. From the center the orange and yellowish lights went out, to the edge of the city. All that were left were greyish-white lights, although those lights may actually have provided half the light in the city.
I felt like the town's energy had gone out because people hadn't been conserving, and so it would go out completely if people didn't finally start conserving. I wondered about my trailer on the outskirts of town. I couldn't doubt that I, too, had not conserved. But was I wasting energy even now, while I wasn't even in the trailer? I thought I should consider every way in which I could conserve.
I was in a church. There was a wedding, possibly between my old boss and constant mentor, EB, and a blonde woman. I stood near the back of the church. The church was brightly lit and full of people. EB (?) stood at the back of the church, in business attire rather than a tuxedo. He was a couple rows ahead of me, but on his side (the left side) of the church it seemed the pews ended a couple rows up from the rows on my side, so that EB and I both stood behind the back pews of our respective sides.
I stood by the bride, who was dressed in a normal wedding gown. At one point I leaned close and spoke with the bride. She was standing. She may suddenly have been wearing a thick, pink nightgown. At this point I may also have been a woman and wearing the same thing.
I was myself again. Everybody was kneeling for part of the church service, as if this were now a regular Catholic (?) service. The bride may have knelt (in her wedding gown again) on a footstool. I may have tried to go up a couple rows to find some space available on one of the kneeling benches in the pews.
As I looked I saw a glass door to my right. Through the door I saw another sanctuary, also full of people. A couple people, my co-worker CR and a tall man with a wide, baldish head and white hair, were walking toward the door.
The man was a Lutheran minister, and he wore a collar. I thought he had come dressed up for the wedding. I had previously only seen him in regular clothes. I didn't know if he knew me, but I knew him. I was happy to see him dressed up.
I was getting ready to hold the door open for the man and CR. But the man brusquely opened the door, almost pushing me over, and walked past me, barely acknowledging me, and not acknowledging me in any friendly way. I was shocked.
I saw a sign, as if it were turned on its side. The sign was maybe eight feet long and one foot wide. There was white lettering against a red background for most of it, but on the far right side was a black and white photo of a man who looked like Aleister Crowley except with a huge, black beard and a broad-brimmed hat.
The words that took up most of the sign described this man and were pairs of adjectives separated by slashes. The description pairs weren't quite opposites, more like between opposites and complements. The last part was "tall by nature and tall by stature/but always a stranger."
No comments:
Post a Comment