(Entered in paper journal at 6:14 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a semi-truck (though I may have had an out-of-truck view of it at first). It was daytime. The truck driver, who at first may have been like a narrator, was talking about some work that had been done on the engine to make the truck go a lot faster.
We were on a road in a kind of busy part of the mountains. As we passed a small, white gas station (on our left), we noticed a car behind us, rushing to catch up to us and pass us. The truck driver knew tht the car driver was just trying to taunt us, feeling that he had a faster car. But the truck driver pressed on the gas and kept the car behind him.
I got a look at the car's driver. He looked awful. He was fattish, with ugly, long, scraggly hair, a stubbly face, a mustache, and mirrored eyeglasses. The car may have been white. It was towing some kind of small U-Haul trailer.
The car sped up again. We sped up, too. But this time the truck actually lost ground to the car. The truck driver jostled with the car to make the driver lose his nerve. But the car got ahead of us.
But father down the road we saw the car again. It was pulled over, with a cop car beside it, hunged over a smooth, steep shoulder of road. At first I thought the car had been pulled over for speeding. But looking at the car, I saw how its front fender was all mangled up, like the car had gotten into a crash. The driver was also hunched over the wheel.
The truck driver was now like my brother. The truck was like a pickup truck. We veered off to the left, onto a side road. We drove down into a wooded area.
But soon we were climbing trees. We had gotten high up in a dense tangle of trees and were looking down at the landscape. "My brother" said that when you looked from this high, you could figure out what kind of course you should take when you got back on the ground. But there was some kind of trick, he said, to being up here, that would help you know and remember the course you should take on the ground. I felt like I knew that trick as well. I remembered back to my days in the desert in New Mexico.
I continued climbing through all the trees. Some of them seemed skinny as saplings, unhealthy, even dead. I noticed a birch tree with silver bark.
A father and his sons were at the base of the trees. I could hear them. They were getting ready to climb the trees. It was like this place was now a National Park.
For some reason the trees now seemed a lot weaker and more unstable than before. The boys (two of them? preteen) were now up in the canopy with me and my brother. My brother seemed to be getting along with them.
I wanted to get out of the trees. I felt like they were going to break soon. I was so afraid by now that I was clinging to the limbs and climbing around on my belly. I told my brother I was going back.
As I crawled along, the trees changed into something like a wood-slat bridge, which felt very weak to me. It led to something like a tree house, which was probably a visitor's center for this National Park.
I could hear the kids talking with their father, as if they were also including my brother and me in the conversation. I could also hear myself talk with them or imagine what I might have said to them. They were talking about what a good place this was and how nice it is to find some green space in a world that's been so overdeveloped.
I was crawling (more like slithering) through a doggy door that was really tight for my body. I came into a dirty space like a small landing for a set of steps. It was bright and dingy white. In the corner of the landing was the shell of a "roach" (probably more like a cicada). There might also have been some kind of goo coming out from somewhere.
In my head, one of the boys asked me the name of this park. I said, after thinking about it, "Greenburg."
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