(6/6/05) office asylum haters; y was back to stay

(Entered in paper journal at 5:55 AM at home in Harlem.)

Dream 1

I got a text message on "my" cell phone, which was pretty nice. The message was like a news article. A man had jumped off a cliff and into a crowd or some large object and had ruined some big event. He had been attempting suicide. But he was still alive. Somehow the article, as if written by my mom, insinuated that my brother had been the person in question.

I now stood in my mom's living room, before the couch on which she lay resting. The room was dark. My mom, tired, said, "We do things and do things for him. We think he's okay. Then he does something like this. I think it's the pressure of his new living situations."

I said, "You mean, they won't let him live with my great-grandmother A anymore?"

She said, "He has to live in a group home with people like him. But he gets plenty of space. They get their own beds. And they even get their own office desks to perform tasks at."

I now saw, as if it were down a crooked hallway, a room full of office desks. I could sense that a bunch of wiry, muscular, bald, white guys were pressuring my brother to go insane.

Dream 2

I met R and CV somewhere. They had run into Y. They told me something pathetic about Y, like she had a dog in a cage and was getting all fussy over a small thing someone had said about it. They laughed. I tried to laugh. But then, thinking about Y, I was angry.

But then I realized that this was New York and that Y was back, living with R. I tried to speak, to ask if Y was back to stay, but I couldn't. And I really didn't want to hear R and CV say yes.