(12/16/04) brownstone out-of-body experience; r jealous of me and y; being stalked as a transvestite

(Entered in paper journal at 7:10 PM at my friend ML's house in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I was possibly at ML's house. I came down from the top bunk of ML's bed, possibly by floating down. I either heard or said some things and was either scrutinized for my speech or not noticed at all.

Then I was suddenly in front of a brownstone staircase. It was still night. The staircase light lit the brown steps, which stood behind a tallish (?) cast iron gate. I could only see a bit of it, though I saw it intensely, as if my vision were overexposed.

I turned around. I scared some guy in a suit. I told myself either that I was having a dream or that I was having an out-of-body experience. I told myself to calm down and focus.

Dream 2

It was daytime. I was on something like a tall building's rooftop with my friend R. We sat at a small, rectangular table that was made of wood and was covered with a white tablecloth.

R spoke to me about some bad things his ex-wife and my best friend Y had done. He kept talking about what a bad person Y was. I knew mainly he just didn't want me to talk to her anymore, out of jealousy for our friendship.

I picked up my phone and put it to my ear to call someone. But Y was already on the other end of the line. I was somewhat happy to hear from her. The conversation continued for a "few minutes," then seemed to vanish. The table switched from the right edge of the building roof to the top edge, and my position switched with R's.

I told R that I didn't call Y or even plan to call her behind his back, that she'd called me, but that I also wasn't going to just blow her off. But R still looked at me as if he wanted to kill me.

(NOTE (2017) -- Unfortunately in waking life I did neglect my relationship with my friend Y and ended up killing one of the best friendships I ever had in my life.)

Dream 3

Barely remembered. I had some letters. They were either addressed to me obliquely or not addressed to me at all. But somehow R was about to intercept them. But somehow, again, R had sent them to me.

The "letters" were all postcards that implied that R was stalking and hunting me because he was sexually attracted to me as a transvestite. The postcards showed increasingly lewd scenes of garishly costumed transvestites in a dance club with naked, muscular, attractive men.

Knowing R, I knew that he had sent these postcards to imply that these men, like R, were planning to kill transvestites, like he/they would kill me, because R/the men believed we deserved to be killed.