(Entered in paper journal at 6:05 AM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I was in an airport or something like it. I was, I think, waiting for a woman to arrive and for my friend R to come by car to pick us up. R's dad kept calling and/or leaving text messages on my phone. He wanted to know just when this woman (who looked like my best friend Y's dad's girlfriend, except in her mid-thirties) was coming.
I was afraid that sooner or later I'd have to give a specific time. But for the time being I kept ignoring the text messages and telling R's dad on the phone calls that I had not yet seen the woman. This may actually have been true.
Now I was in the backseat of a car driven by R. R's mom called me and complained that neither of us was complying very well with instructions and that if we let that woman near her, we, too, were in deep trouble.
R became sullen and agitated. (It was like we were driving in the parking lot with the Starbucks on San Pedro and Montgomery in Albuquerque, New Mexico.) I told him, as I saw a thin, cartoon-style family tree in my mind's eye, to be positive about this family tree of his -- that the good thing about each family tree is that each branch tip --
R interrupted, "Yeah, I know, I know! Just leave it alone."
But I couldn't put into words or get a clear view in my mind's eye what I was trying to say or what it was I was talking about. Then, after a second of struggle, it all came into place. I saw a branch tip clip off from a tree and lilt down into the ground, where it took root and became the trunk of a new tree.
I didn't say anything. R calmed down. He said, "Oh, I understand that each person in effect starts his own family tree. But I'm too grumpy right now. I don't even care."
Showing posts with label airport. Show all posts
Showing posts with label airport. Show all posts
Sunday, March 12, 2017
Sunday, March 5, 2017
(4/24/05) grandfather and airport; a little joke about hoes like her
(Entered in paper journal at 7:10 PM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I was in a living room with my mom and sister. It was small and cluttered, like an apartment living room, with brown and tan shag carpet. Yellow, sticky light came in through the windows. I sat almost cross-legged on the floor. My sister (?) sat in front of me while my mom (?) sat to my left on a couch.
We all spoke about going to visit my grandfather. I thought that would be a fun visit. But suddenly I remembered I had to catch my flight back to New York. I'd incorrectly remembered my departure hour.
I interrupted the conversation and said, "Could one of you drive me to the airport? Do you think we could get there by 8:00?"
My mom said yes, though she was a little taken aback. I produced my trip itinerary, which had all the flight times highlighted. My departure time was 9:20.
Dream 2
I was with a group of friends or some fellow classmates. We had been doing some strange project involving a vat of boiling frying grease. Now one of my friends had a mannequin. My friend was black, young, a bit fat, with a round, smart aleck expression, and dressed like a chef. The mannequin was headless, female shaped, white, slender, wearing a white satin and lace teddy.
My friend said, "So that VT's" (my crew mate) "got you down? Well, here's a little joke about hoes like her. They let themselves get dipped in too many times and..."
He dipped the mannequin into the vat of frying grease all the way up to its bellybutton and pulled back up. The legs were pretty much gone. But I couldn't see that: my friend had lifted a black, plastic bag up with the mannequin. The bag was around the mannequin's waist, covering whatever remained of the legs.
I did think the joke was a little satisfying. But I didn't dislike VT so much that I'd want something like that to happen to her. And I didn't want to stand for her being so insulted. So I just said, "Whatever," an turned away, walking into a room which people sat in like in a waiting room.
All the chairs were lined along the walls, but some groups of people had turned in their chairs to sit around TV dinner-style folding tables with trays with flowers in them. I walked to the one on the back wall. One person had a flower in his lap. It was a yellow marigold. It had a little title card, like a green 3 x 5 card with a stake-point going into the soil.
The printed card read:
Dream 1
I was in a living room with my mom and sister. It was small and cluttered, like an apartment living room, with brown and tan shag carpet. Yellow, sticky light came in through the windows. I sat almost cross-legged on the floor. My sister (?) sat in front of me while my mom (?) sat to my left on a couch.
We all spoke about going to visit my grandfather. I thought that would be a fun visit. But suddenly I remembered I had to catch my flight back to New York. I'd incorrectly remembered my departure hour.
I interrupted the conversation and said, "Could one of you drive me to the airport? Do you think we could get there by 8:00?"
My mom said yes, though she was a little taken aback. I produced my trip itinerary, which had all the flight times highlighted. My departure time was 9:20.
Dream 2
I was with a group of friends or some fellow classmates. We had been doing some strange project involving a vat of boiling frying grease. Now one of my friends had a mannequin. My friend was black, young, a bit fat, with a round, smart aleck expression, and dressed like a chef. The mannequin was headless, female shaped, white, slender, wearing a white satin and lace teddy.
My friend said, "So that VT's" (my crew mate) "got you down? Well, here's a little joke about hoes like her. They let themselves get dipped in too many times and..."
He dipped the mannequin into the vat of frying grease all the way up to its bellybutton and pulled back up. The legs were pretty much gone. But I couldn't see that: my friend had lifted a black, plastic bag up with the mannequin. The bag was around the mannequin's waist, covering whatever remained of the legs.
I did think the joke was a little satisfying. But I didn't dislike VT so much that I'd want something like that to happen to her. And I didn't want to stand for her being so insulted. So I just said, "Whatever," an turned away, walking into a room which people sat in like in a waiting room.
All the chairs were lined along the walls, but some groups of people had turned in their chairs to sit around TV dinner-style folding tables with trays with flowers in them. I walked to the one on the back wall. One person had a flower in his lap. It was a yellow marigold. It had a little title card, like a green 3 x 5 card with a stake-point going into the soil.
The printed card read:
Pot Marigold
Kot (XXXXX) "Ninja" Ninjaiensis
I can't remember what word was in the parentheses.
(5/21/05) my id and fifteen dollars; racist boss and bully girl
(Entered in paper journal at 11:35 AM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was leaving some house or job. I had been told it was okay to leave, as I had done what I had come to do. But as I was leaving I realized I had left my ID and fifteen dollars in a car.
I went to where the car was, along a suburban street (?). The car had been moved, and a few other cars put in its place. The car was now on a lawn or driveway in a yard that sloped up to a house.
The people who were moving the cars were all Mexican. I thought they had stolen my stuff. I looked where I had put my stuff. It wasn't there.
I found the ID. A couple guys stood around the car. I didn't want to act worried, like I suspected them. Then I found the ten-dollar bill and then the five-dollar bill in different places, moved and separated, apparently for safe-keeping.
Dream 2
I was at some meeting or ceremony in an office building, a lobby up on a high floor full of windows. The atmosphere was almost like after a decorative party for children. I feel like there was a lot of pink and yellow everywhere.
Some bigwig-looking guy stood by a window, surrounded by an admiring throng of businessmen. He gave some speech which increasingly included jokes using stereotypes about different racial groups. It started with black people. Then there was some joke about how Mexican people live on food stamps. Then possibly some joke about how Asian people speak funny and look like monsters.
I looked around and saw myself surrounded by young, male minorities dressed to look hood-like. As the bigwig (bald) continued, I loudly whispered to the young men, "Didn't you hear? He just made jokes about you! And he's making a joke about you right now! Don't just go along with it! Make him stop!"
Now I was being carried out the door by two or three tall, young, strong, white businessmen, all of whom assumed I was drunk. They carried me past some couch that faced the lobby windows. I saw a board game on the couch. I assumed the board game was mine. I was pretty sure I wasn't drunk. But I clowned around more and more as the men carried me away, figuring if they wanted to assume I would drunk, I would just act drunk.
Now (I think) I was riding in an SUV with my friends R and CV. We drove on some balconies in what feels now like a tall parking garage surrounding a skyscraper full of malls. I was going somewhere specific with R.
We drove past a doorway to a mall which I recognized as having been the office space I had just been thrown out of. I told CV and R I needed to go back in there and get my Operation board game. R slowed down and stopped in front of the door. But he wouldn't get out. He said, "Go in if you need to go in. But please don't embarrass yourself. That'll embarrass me, too. They really don't want you back in there. You got too drunk last time."
I was still pretty sure I hadn't been drunk that time. I went (in?), to the couch and picked up my Operation game box, which was tattered and had a lot of the graphics layer of the paper stripped off to show only fuzzy swatches of tan cardboard.
I walked past a mafia-like group of three or four oldish, white-haired, heavy guys in polo shirts. The guys spoke quietly but toughly with each other. Then one of them turned to me and asked, "Why did you come back? Did you want to defy us? Did you want to disrespect us?"
I think I justified myself by showing him my board game. He seems to have been satisfied, though he still seems to have told me to leave and not come back.
I was (now?) walking down a hallway that looked like a mix between a back hallway in a museum and a wide hallway in a hospital. But this place was like a mall and a museum mixed together. I was now at the other end, walking "back" out "the way I had come in."
I walked past some girl who was distressed by another girl who was bullying her. The bully girl kept bouncing the distressed girl's basketball at and past the distressed girl in such a way that the distressed girl could never catch the ball. (I don't know how, but the basketball kept reappearing in the bully girl's hand, like a barrel in the video game Donkey Kong.) The distressed girl began crying.
I stepped in front of the distressed girl to catch the basketball. I walked quickly toward the bully girl. For some reason I had to catch the basketball at least once or I couldn't approach the bully girl. I managed to catch the basketball about three times. Each time I caught it it would disappear, with a satisfying feeling, almost exactly like I was racking up points in a video game.
When I realized what I was going I began failing. I would nick the ball with the tips of the fingers on my left hand and the ball would bounce off in a more and more dissatisfying way.
But now I was right in front of the bully girl, who was about nineteen or twenty years old, thin, with a pretty face, long, pale, blonde hair, a wholesome smile, and purple-blue eyes. The girl made a comment I can't remember and then said something like, "Let's get out of here."
I felt a "strong" sexual desire for the bully girl and told her her eyes were incredible. She said something like, "You can't bet me in bed by talking about my eyes. Every guy I know has tried that. If I'd wanted to go to be with you I'd already have been in bed with you."
We had walked out of the hallway and into the "office," which was now something more like a well-lit, classic, wooden bar, turned right, and headed down a hallway that looked like an airport concourse hallway that opened out into a large department store.
The bully girl was now my crew mate and friend KB. we were just hanging out and having fun. We walked to a setup like two big dressers placed across from and slightly caddy-corner to each other, i.e.
and surrounded (possibly) by sets displaying beds and bed sets. On the dressers were items for sale: jewelry or knickknack-like items, some of glass, some of crystal, some of gold, some of valueless material. Many had twisty, strange shapes, like modern-art decorative desk pieces.
KB said, "I'm looking for a good library toy." She grabbed something and walked off.
I turned around and looked at the items on the other dresser. The items on the first dresser seemed completely useless. For some reason (I don't know what now) these items looked useful, especially for a library job. I think KB came back and that I tried to tell her about these items.
Dream 1
I was leaving some house or job. I had been told it was okay to leave, as I had done what I had come to do. But as I was leaving I realized I had left my ID and fifteen dollars in a car.
I went to where the car was, along a suburban street (?). The car had been moved, and a few other cars put in its place. The car was now on a lawn or driveway in a yard that sloped up to a house.
The people who were moving the cars were all Mexican. I thought they had stolen my stuff. I looked where I had put my stuff. It wasn't there.
I found the ID. A couple guys stood around the car. I didn't want to act worried, like I suspected them. Then I found the ten-dollar bill and then the five-dollar bill in different places, moved and separated, apparently for safe-keeping.
Dream 2
I was at some meeting or ceremony in an office building, a lobby up on a high floor full of windows. The atmosphere was almost like after a decorative party for children. I feel like there was a lot of pink and yellow everywhere.
Some bigwig-looking guy stood by a window, surrounded by an admiring throng of businessmen. He gave some speech which increasingly included jokes using stereotypes about different racial groups. It started with black people. Then there was some joke about how Mexican people live on food stamps. Then possibly some joke about how Asian people speak funny and look like monsters.
I looked around and saw myself surrounded by young, male minorities dressed to look hood-like. As the bigwig (bald) continued, I loudly whispered to the young men, "Didn't you hear? He just made jokes about you! And he's making a joke about you right now! Don't just go along with it! Make him stop!"
Now I was being carried out the door by two or three tall, young, strong, white businessmen, all of whom assumed I was drunk. They carried me past some couch that faced the lobby windows. I saw a board game on the couch. I assumed the board game was mine. I was pretty sure I wasn't drunk. But I clowned around more and more as the men carried me away, figuring if they wanted to assume I would drunk, I would just act drunk.
Now (I think) I was riding in an SUV with my friends R and CV. We drove on some balconies in what feels now like a tall parking garage surrounding a skyscraper full of malls. I was going somewhere specific with R.
We drove past a doorway to a mall which I recognized as having been the office space I had just been thrown out of. I told CV and R I needed to go back in there and get my Operation board game. R slowed down and stopped in front of the door. But he wouldn't get out. He said, "Go in if you need to go in. But please don't embarrass yourself. That'll embarrass me, too. They really don't want you back in there. You got too drunk last time."
I was still pretty sure I hadn't been drunk that time. I went (in?), to the couch and picked up my Operation game box, which was tattered and had a lot of the graphics layer of the paper stripped off to show only fuzzy swatches of tan cardboard.
I walked past a mafia-like group of three or four oldish, white-haired, heavy guys in polo shirts. The guys spoke quietly but toughly with each other. Then one of them turned to me and asked, "Why did you come back? Did you want to defy us? Did you want to disrespect us?"
I think I justified myself by showing him my board game. He seems to have been satisfied, though he still seems to have told me to leave and not come back.
I was (now?) walking down a hallway that looked like a mix between a back hallway in a museum and a wide hallway in a hospital. But this place was like a mall and a museum mixed together. I was now at the other end, walking "back" out "the way I had come in."
I walked past some girl who was distressed by another girl who was bullying her. The bully girl kept bouncing the distressed girl's basketball at and past the distressed girl in such a way that the distressed girl could never catch the ball. (I don't know how, but the basketball kept reappearing in the bully girl's hand, like a barrel in the video game Donkey Kong.) The distressed girl began crying.
I stepped in front of the distressed girl to catch the basketball. I walked quickly toward the bully girl. For some reason I had to catch the basketball at least once or I couldn't approach the bully girl. I managed to catch the basketball about three times. Each time I caught it it would disappear, with a satisfying feeling, almost exactly like I was racking up points in a video game.
When I realized what I was going I began failing. I would nick the ball with the tips of the fingers on my left hand and the ball would bounce off in a more and more dissatisfying way.
But now I was right in front of the bully girl, who was about nineteen or twenty years old, thin, with a pretty face, long, pale, blonde hair, a wholesome smile, and purple-blue eyes. The girl made a comment I can't remember and then said something like, "Let's get out of here."
I felt a "strong" sexual desire for the bully girl and told her her eyes were incredible. She said something like, "You can't bet me in bed by talking about my eyes. Every guy I know has tried that. If I'd wanted to go to be with you I'd already have been in bed with you."
We had walked out of the hallway and into the "office," which was now something more like a well-lit, classic, wooden bar, turned right, and headed down a hallway that looked like an airport concourse hallway that opened out into a large department store.
The bully girl was now my crew mate and friend KB. we were just hanging out and having fun. We walked to a setup like two big dressers placed across from and slightly caddy-corner to each other, i.e.
and surrounded (possibly) by sets displaying beds and bed sets. On the dressers were items for sale: jewelry or knickknack-like items, some of glass, some of crystal, some of gold, some of valueless material. Many had twisty, strange shapes, like modern-art decorative desk pieces.
KB said, "I'm looking for a good library toy." She grabbed something and walked off.
I turned around and looked at the items on the other dresser. The items on the first dresser seemed completely useless. For some reason (I don't know what now) these items looked useful, especially for a library job. I think KB came back and that I tried to tell her about these items.
(5/24/05) next stop, ladies' lingerie
(The statement below is not a dream but was written in my dream journal as a kind of inspiration. Entered at 9:15 PM. No location info. But I'm guessing it was at home in Harlem. I'm also guessing the statement was written on May 23rd, before I slept and had my dreams, not May 24th, when my dreams would actually have been written down. But I'm really not sure.)
9:15 PM -- Although the writing of this will probably hinder me from dreaming tonight, I want to write down in the dream book that I will try next time I had a lucid dream to call out for a teacher or guide, whatever that may be.
(Entered in paper journal at 8:03 PM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I got off a train or subway that led directly into a concourse in an airport. I passed an inspection gate and then realized I had left a couple important items at home. My flight left at either 4:00 or 4:11. I turned to look at the digital wall clock. It read 244 (244, I think, not 2:44!). I thought I might have time to take the subway back home and come back before my flight left.
I was on what now feels like an Amtrak train or an even bulkier, fancier train with a very dark, rich atmosphere to it. We passed along some dense obstructions to a view of a city street, not like New York City, a little more country like.
I caught a glimpse of some black man who shot a stare at me and scared me a little. So I opened my view fully at him in between the dense obstructions and rattled his mind a bit to make him look at me nervously. But when I succeeded I pulled back instantly and thought (did I think it?), No, don't make contact. You run the risk of letting bad spirits into your own body.
Now the view was black except one thin, horizontal strip about five-sixths of the way up my field of vision. A white burst of light zigzagging from right to left made the strip silvery like the crack of light between the lid and body of a copy machine.
I was still in the train, I think. It was early morning. We rode into the parking lot of a mall. My stop was somewhere around here. I thought of coming back to the mall in a few hours, as soon as it opened.
I looked up to the second floor of the mall, as if a few stores up their had their storefront window-walls and doors out on the sheer, inaccessible, white brick face instead of on an indoor balcony inside the mall. I saw a lingerie store. I wanted to go in. But I wondered, if the storefront was on the outside of the mall, how I'd get in without being seen by people I knew.
9:15 PM -- Although the writing of this will probably hinder me from dreaming tonight, I want to write down in the dream book that I will try next time I had a lucid dream to call out for a teacher or guide, whatever that may be.
(Entered in paper journal at 8:03 PM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I got off a train or subway that led directly into a concourse in an airport. I passed an inspection gate and then realized I had left a couple important items at home. My flight left at either 4:00 or 4:11. I turned to look at the digital wall clock. It read 244 (244, I think, not 2:44!). I thought I might have time to take the subway back home and come back before my flight left.
I was on what now feels like an Amtrak train or an even bulkier, fancier train with a very dark, rich atmosphere to it. We passed along some dense obstructions to a view of a city street, not like New York City, a little more country like.
I caught a glimpse of some black man who shot a stare at me and scared me a little. So I opened my view fully at him in between the dense obstructions and rattled his mind a bit to make him look at me nervously. But when I succeeded I pulled back instantly and thought (did I think it?), No, don't make contact. You run the risk of letting bad spirits into your own body.
Now the view was black except one thin, horizontal strip about five-sixths of the way up my field of vision. A white burst of light zigzagging from right to left made the strip silvery like the crack of light between the lid and body of a copy machine.
I was still in the train, I think. It was early morning. We rode into the parking lot of a mall. My stop was somewhere around here. I thought of coming back to the mall in a few hours, as soon as it opened.
I looked up to the second floor of the mall, as if a few stores up their had their storefront window-walls and doors out on the sheer, inaccessible, white brick face instead of on an indoor balcony inside the mall. I saw a lingerie store. I wanted to go in. But I wondered, if the storefront was on the outside of the mall, how I'd get in without being seen by people I knew.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
(1/9/06) the ant colony; re-destined; ride to the airport
(Entered in paper journal at 5:52 PM at Flying Saucer Cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was in a park. There were groups of children playing different types of games. One group may have had a kite or kites. Another group may have had a ball that was deflating. I tried to prove myself to each group, running from group to group. At the last group, I (?) managed to get the ball lost. I had to chase after it, still pretending I knew what I was doing. A woman to my right was watching me.
The park lawn gave way to a forest. I "had to" jump over some small depressions. I may have seen a tree fall into one of the depressions. I had to jump over or onto the fallen tree to get across the depression. The tree lay down into the shallow crevice.
I jumped onto the tree, not knowing whether that was a mistake. The bark crumbled completely and ants flushed out everywhere. They all fell to the floor of the depression. I quickly ran to the other side. The ants were after me.
After running some distance I stopped and looked back. I saw my mom's backyard and house. I knew I had made a mistake. I had broken up the ant colonies in her house.
I saw streams of tarantula hawks flying into my mom's house through the roof. I knew the tarantula hawks were going to break down the roof and basement, and that if anybody even moved in the house, the tarantula hawks would attack.
I tried to take back what I had done. I hoped for my family's safety.
Dream 2
My oldest nephew D sat on a car, somewhere near its front. I stood in front of him, telling him why he shouldn't drive the car or ride in the car. The hood to the car may have been open, though I wasn't looking inside but "seeing" the engine with my imagination.
I explained that some connection had been broken. An engine hose was gone between a supply area and a receiving area. The supply area wasn't very affected: it just stopped supplying. But the receiving area, instead of vacuuming in the supply material, was now pulling in air. The air would not only cause a strong reaction with the other chemicals in the engine, but it, being lighter, would be drawn in quickly and flood the engine. Basically, as soon as the car turned on, there would be an explosion.
I could "see" and feel that D was going to start the car and be blown up. I tried to stop him, and he seemed to listen. But it was also like he kept forgetting what I'd told him, or like he was constantly being re-destined to be blown up in the car.
Dream 3
I was in an office or some housing for office people. I had to catch a flight that left at 10 AM. I had been talking about the flight all morning long, but I had never paid attention to the time. It was 7 AM. I needed to get going. I asked a few people if they could give me a ride to the airport. But nobody would, or else they wanted to wait a long time before they would give me a ride.
Dream 1
I was in a park. There were groups of children playing different types of games. One group may have had a kite or kites. Another group may have had a ball that was deflating. I tried to prove myself to each group, running from group to group. At the last group, I (?) managed to get the ball lost. I had to chase after it, still pretending I knew what I was doing. A woman to my right was watching me.
The park lawn gave way to a forest. I "had to" jump over some small depressions. I may have seen a tree fall into one of the depressions. I had to jump over or onto the fallen tree to get across the depression. The tree lay down into the shallow crevice.
I jumped onto the tree, not knowing whether that was a mistake. The bark crumbled completely and ants flushed out everywhere. They all fell to the floor of the depression. I quickly ran to the other side. The ants were after me.
After running some distance I stopped and looked back. I saw my mom's backyard and house. I knew I had made a mistake. I had broken up the ant colonies in her house.
I saw streams of tarantula hawks flying into my mom's house through the roof. I knew the tarantula hawks were going to break down the roof and basement, and that if anybody even moved in the house, the tarantula hawks would attack.
I tried to take back what I had done. I hoped for my family's safety.
Dream 2
My oldest nephew D sat on a car, somewhere near its front. I stood in front of him, telling him why he shouldn't drive the car or ride in the car. The hood to the car may have been open, though I wasn't looking inside but "seeing" the engine with my imagination.
I explained that some connection had been broken. An engine hose was gone between a supply area and a receiving area. The supply area wasn't very affected: it just stopped supplying. But the receiving area, instead of vacuuming in the supply material, was now pulling in air. The air would not only cause a strong reaction with the other chemicals in the engine, but it, being lighter, would be drawn in quickly and flood the engine. Basically, as soon as the car turned on, there would be an explosion.
I could "see" and feel that D was going to start the car and be blown up. I tried to stop him, and he seemed to listen. But it was also like he kept forgetting what I'd told him, or like he was constantly being re-destined to be blown up in the car.
Dream 3
I was in an office or some housing for office people. I had to catch a flight that left at 10 AM. I had been talking about the flight all morning long, but I had never paid attention to the time. It was 7 AM. I needed to get going. I asked a few people if they could give me a ride to the airport. But nobody would, or else they wanted to wait a long time before they would give me a ride.
Monday, February 25, 2013
(7/23/07) ill-timed illness; hotmail at work; radio interview; changing flight; slow liftoff; variations on jk rowling
(Entered in paper journal at 5:50 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I lay on a couch in the dark. I was covered in blankets. I spoke on the phone with someone who asked if I could cover the phones for the Analyst MH as well, since he would be out. I saw his extension, 3431 or 2431, in my had. The person said, "MH got sick at a really bad time. When he gets back in, we'll have to have a disciplinary discussion with him.
My boss BS and another Analyst, SM, stood at my feet, on my left, i.e. facing the couch. They walked around to my right and then up past my head. They pulled open some blinds and let in a lot of daylight.
Dream #2
I was in the office, which was different from waking life. The entire floor was only half-lit. There were two aisles of cubicles that went in long rows of six or seven cubicles. Beside that were probably more aisles of cubicles. At the end of the aisles was a little bit of empty floor space and then a brightly lit, tiny elevator bank. My cubicle was at the front right corner, facing the elevator bank.
I turned my computer on. Then I remembered I had an appointment with my psychiatrist A this morning. I told my boss BS, "I know it's spur of the moment notice, but can I leave?"
BS' face turned kind of weak and muttery. BS said, "Well, yeah, go..."
I said, "It's on the spur of the moment, I know. So said no if I can't go."
BS said, "No. I'd rather you didn't go. I'm gonna need you here today."
BS walked away as I said okay.
I spoke with a couple people and then went back to my desk. I had vines like grapevines growing over my desk. My computer was a laptop. It was only about halfway open. I saw Hotmail up on my screen. I couldn't figure why that would be there: employees weren't allowed to use personal email accounts, like Hotmail, in the office.
I tried to shut the Hotmail off. BS walked by and asked what was wrong. I said, "Somehow Hotmail came up on my screen."
Dream #3
I sat in a brightly lit basement. It was a radio station. I was going to be interviewed as a part of my job. At present some outside correspondent was doing something like a traffic report. In the station, we may have seen the man or the stuff he was talking about on a TV screen. The view was of a straight road in a green field on a grey day.
I thought, Am I going to be late doing this interview? It was as if, on some level of reality, I wasn't really in the studio yet.
Dream #4
I stood before the counter at an airport. The counter and room looked more like an old, cozy hotel. A tall, gaunt, white, bald man with a grey mustache and heavy eyebrows stood behind the counter. The man said, "I don't recognize you. Do you have ID?"
I showed the man my ID and said, "You can ask people if you like. I come here all the time. All I'm trying to do is see if I'm late for my flight. I was scheduled to leave at 12:20 PM. And now it's --" (I craned my neck forward to look around at the man's computer screen) "-- 1:02 PM?! Oh, no!"
I started crying. I said, "I missed my flight! Is there any way I can get a ticket for a different flight?"
Two or three people, maybe two guys and a girl, roughly twenty-five years old, walked around the old man cheerfully. They spoke happily about my problem and how it could probably be fixed. They walked away. The old man started wandering off.
I asked, "Aren't you going to see about getting me a new flight?"
The man said, "We have other things to do. We'll get to you." He left.
The young men and woman were now bringing out plates of food from a bar and grill that was off to my left. One of the plates was big chunks of meat covered in sauce that looked like ranch dressing.
Dream #5
Black and white, grainy view like old film footage. A narrator spoke about the first space flight, which had been made by the Russians.
I watched a "space shuttle" launch, then travel parallel with the ground, maybe only a couple hundred feet above the ground. The "shuttle" looked like a sci-fi spacecraft, or a child's drawing. It was like two cylinders in the back which ended in rockets and which joined in the front to one cylinder which pointed at the front.
The craft began lifting as it flew over the ocean. It lifted so slowly I at first thought that it was getting ready to lose control and crash. The view was momentarily from behind it as it rose above a patchy plane of clouds. I knew now that the craft wouldn't crash. But watching it rise (view from in front of the craft, looking back at it) so slowly, at such a gentle angle, I doubted the craft could ever actually leave the earth.
The craft slowly increased its angle and speed. I now wondered if the view was going to catch the craft traveling so quickly and steeply. I didn't think the view would actually be able to travel with the craft.
Dream #6
I was in a bedroom (?) with a few people of different ages (probably up to my age). Everybody was in a slighty frenzy, not angry, just unsettled. They were all talking about the new Harry Potter book. At the same time they were passing around the previous Harry Potter books. The covers of these books looked weird, like cheap second editions -- or rather like the old sensational film posters (i.e. L'enfant de Paris) that were (at the time I entered this dream in the paper journal) on display in the MoMA film center.
I got a good enough look at all the volumes, as they were rapidly passed from hand to hand, that when someone called out, "It's too bad we don't have all seven volumes right here," I could shout out, "But we do!"
Someone yelled at me, "No, we don't!"
I said, "Yes, we do! Look!" As I pointed to each book as it transferred from hand to hand, I counted out the volumes. "One, two, three, four, five, six. And there's seven!"
I now saw a copy of the book like a wide-opening coffee table book. The right half of the cover was the cover of the new Harry Potter book. As I "heard" some TV or magazine story about J.K. Rowling my view slowly moved to the left side of the cover.
I thought, I've heard a lot of people talk about how much of a bitch (???!!!) J.K. Rowling is. I wondreed what she looked like. On the left side of the cover was a photo of Rowling. She looked like an Italian mother from Brooklyn -- black hair, blue sweater, kind of no-nonsense expression. In the photo, "Rowling" was painting some huge, abstract mural, looking back and smiling at the camera.
Now there was a view of her (not on the book, but like in life) standing behind a glass-paned front door. The view was in front of the door, to catch the glass' reflection of a field of flowers, bands of color -- yellow, purple, and white, with a vague green band -- and a feeling of mountains and sky in the distance.
In this view "Rowling" looked a lot older. Her hair was cut short and was reddish-brown, very tough. "Rowling's" face was round; her nose, nubby; her eyes, pale blue. I think I felt a wish in her that she could become young again.
Dream #1
I lay on a couch in the dark. I was covered in blankets. I spoke on the phone with someone who asked if I could cover the phones for the Analyst MH as well, since he would be out. I saw his extension, 3431 or 2431, in my had. The person said, "MH got sick at a really bad time. When he gets back in, we'll have to have a disciplinary discussion with him.
My boss BS and another Analyst, SM, stood at my feet, on my left, i.e. facing the couch. They walked around to my right and then up past my head. They pulled open some blinds and let in a lot of daylight.
Dream #2
I was in the office, which was different from waking life. The entire floor was only half-lit. There were two aisles of cubicles that went in long rows of six or seven cubicles. Beside that were probably more aisles of cubicles. At the end of the aisles was a little bit of empty floor space and then a brightly lit, tiny elevator bank. My cubicle was at the front right corner, facing the elevator bank.
I turned my computer on. Then I remembered I had an appointment with my psychiatrist A this morning. I told my boss BS, "I know it's spur of the moment notice, but can I leave?"
BS' face turned kind of weak and muttery. BS said, "Well, yeah, go..."
I said, "It's on the spur of the moment, I know. So said no if I can't go."
BS said, "No. I'd rather you didn't go. I'm gonna need you here today."
BS walked away as I said okay.
I spoke with a couple people and then went back to my desk. I had vines like grapevines growing over my desk. My computer was a laptop. It was only about halfway open. I saw Hotmail up on my screen. I couldn't figure why that would be there: employees weren't allowed to use personal email accounts, like Hotmail, in the office.
I tried to shut the Hotmail off. BS walked by and asked what was wrong. I said, "Somehow Hotmail came up on my screen."
Dream #3
I sat in a brightly lit basement. It was a radio station. I was going to be interviewed as a part of my job. At present some outside correspondent was doing something like a traffic report. In the station, we may have seen the man or the stuff he was talking about on a TV screen. The view was of a straight road in a green field on a grey day.
I thought, Am I going to be late doing this interview? It was as if, on some level of reality, I wasn't really in the studio yet.
Dream #4
I stood before the counter at an airport. The counter and room looked more like an old, cozy hotel. A tall, gaunt, white, bald man with a grey mustache and heavy eyebrows stood behind the counter. The man said, "I don't recognize you. Do you have ID?"
I showed the man my ID and said, "You can ask people if you like. I come here all the time. All I'm trying to do is see if I'm late for my flight. I was scheduled to leave at 12:20 PM. And now it's --" (I craned my neck forward to look around at the man's computer screen) "-- 1:02 PM?! Oh, no!"
I started crying. I said, "I missed my flight! Is there any way I can get a ticket for a different flight?"
Two or three people, maybe two guys and a girl, roughly twenty-five years old, walked around the old man cheerfully. They spoke happily about my problem and how it could probably be fixed. They walked away. The old man started wandering off.
I asked, "Aren't you going to see about getting me a new flight?"
The man said, "We have other things to do. We'll get to you." He left.
The young men and woman were now bringing out plates of food from a bar and grill that was off to my left. One of the plates was big chunks of meat covered in sauce that looked like ranch dressing.
Dream #5
Black and white, grainy view like old film footage. A narrator spoke about the first space flight, which had been made by the Russians.
I watched a "space shuttle" launch, then travel parallel with the ground, maybe only a couple hundred feet above the ground. The "shuttle" looked like a sci-fi spacecraft, or a child's drawing. It was like two cylinders in the back which ended in rockets and which joined in the front to one cylinder which pointed at the front.
The craft began lifting as it flew over the ocean. It lifted so slowly I at first thought that it was getting ready to lose control and crash. The view was momentarily from behind it as it rose above a patchy plane of clouds. I knew now that the craft wouldn't crash. But watching it rise (view from in front of the craft, looking back at it) so slowly, at such a gentle angle, I doubted the craft could ever actually leave the earth.
The craft slowly increased its angle and speed. I now wondered if the view was going to catch the craft traveling so quickly and steeply. I didn't think the view would actually be able to travel with the craft.
Dream #6
I was in a bedroom (?) with a few people of different ages (probably up to my age). Everybody was in a slighty frenzy, not angry, just unsettled. They were all talking about the new Harry Potter book. At the same time they were passing around the previous Harry Potter books. The covers of these books looked weird, like cheap second editions -- or rather like the old sensational film posters (i.e. L'enfant de Paris) that were (at the time I entered this dream in the paper journal) on display in the MoMA film center.
I got a good enough look at all the volumes, as they were rapidly passed from hand to hand, that when someone called out, "It's too bad we don't have all seven volumes right here," I could shout out, "But we do!"
Someone yelled at me, "No, we don't!"
I said, "Yes, we do! Look!" As I pointed to each book as it transferred from hand to hand, I counted out the volumes. "One, two, three, four, five, six. And there's seven!"
I now saw a copy of the book like a wide-opening coffee table book. The right half of the cover was the cover of the new Harry Potter book. As I "heard" some TV or magazine story about J.K. Rowling my view slowly moved to the left side of the cover.
I thought, I've heard a lot of people talk about how much of a bitch (???!!!) J.K. Rowling is. I wondreed what she looked like. On the left side of the cover was a photo of Rowling. She looked like an Italian mother from Brooklyn -- black hair, blue sweater, kind of no-nonsense expression. In the photo, "Rowling" was painting some huge, abstract mural, looking back and smiling at the camera.
Now there was a view of her (not on the book, but like in life) standing behind a glass-paned front door. The view was in front of the door, to catch the glass' reflection of a field of flowers, bands of color -- yellow, purple, and white, with a vague green band -- and a feeling of mountains and sky in the distance.
In this view "Rowling" looked a lot older. Her hair was cut short and was reddish-brown, very tough. "Rowling's" face was round; her nose, nubby; her eyes, pale blue. I think I felt a wish in her that she could become young again.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
(1/21/08) not an airport; yo-yo kiva; a real hole in the wall
(Entered in paper journal at 9:15 AM at Starbucks on Christopher Street in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a bus or van being driven to the airport. It was a grey, drizzly day. I sat near the front of the bus. The bus was empty except for me, the driver, and another man. The other man was slightly nervous. He told the driver, "I hear that when bad weather makes flight delays, they sometimes reroute you through different cities on different planes."
We drove along a group of planes that looked weird. One was a small jet with a very sleek face, like a Concorde mixed with a fighter jet. Another was an enormous plane with a very tall bulkhead (?).
The driver assured the man (as we dove around a large building with passenger drop-off areas for passenger for some airlines) that even if his flight got rerouted, he most likely wouldn't have to get on a flight that he didn't like.
I thought to myself, noticing that the driver was making a second round around a large building, that my flight was set to leave at XXXXX. It was already 12:19. Most airlines liked you to be present one hour early. But here I was, less than half an hour from my takeoff time, and still on the bus (which now seemed a lot like a plane).
I noticed that instead of airline signs in front of the building we presently drove around, there were signs for supermarkets (Albertsons?) and drug stores.
The driver said, "I don't see why I haven't found your airlines yet."
With some hesitance, not wanting to tell the driver how to do his job, I replied, "You drove the wrong way off the highway. This isn't the airport. It's just a shopping center." I pointed to my right and said, "The airport is back over that way and on the other side of the highway."
Dream #2
I and a small group of people looked down on a cylindrical hole dug in the ground. The hole was about eight feet deep and twenty feet in diameter. The floor and walls were smooth, probably soil. In the center of the floor was a small square dug out of the soil. There was also a rectangular niche of soil dug out all the way up one section of wall. Near the square on the floor was a pile of soil.
A blue toy like a yo-yo had been buried at a precise spot under that soil. Now we would fill the entire cylinder with soil, thus immovably fixing the blue toy in its spot.
But now we heard that GPS or satellite measurements showed that we had placed the toy in the incorrect space by just a few feet. We would have to unbury the toy, get rid of the soil, relocate the toy, then bury it under a pile of soil again, and again confirm our location.
I suddenly felt like all this activity was a joke, or that the people who were telling us how to do the job were laughing at us for actually taking such pains with the job, since it was all pretty useless, anyway. But I couldn't let myself believe that the job was useless, and I couldn't let myself believe that we were off in our burial location of the toy.
There might have been a white "X" somewhere on the ground, which had determined my choice. I felt like the "X" proved that I had put the yo-yo in the correct spot -- though the "X" was not under the pile of soil (i.e. it was not in the current location of the toy) and was almost on the opposite side of the circle. I was going to tell the people with me to fill the hole up as things were, that we were fine.
Dream #3
I was in a bus driving down a city street at night. I was a beautiful, rich woman. We drove down a street full of shop fronts and hole-in-the-wall bars. I thought wistfully about just relaxing and going into hole-in-the-wall bars. But I knew I couldn't. As the beautiful, rich woman, I had elevated myself to a position where I could no longer just pop into places like that. I could only allow myself to go to high-class places and events, like the one I was going to right now.
I saw one particular bar, which seemed to have no front wall at all. I stood in front of it, possibly as myself. The place was small, dimly candlelit, with a few tall-backed, black chairs, a couple tables, a small register-counter, and a long, black bench along the right wall.
Two women and one man walked around inside, talking about some way they had managed to trick somebody into giving them a good deal with something. One of the women, probably wearing a tiny, fluttery, pink skirt and a white tank-top, looked at me as if she were sexually attracted to me.
I walked into the bar. The two girls sat on the bench, the man in one of the seats. I thought I would sit between the two girls, to sit next to the girl I thought liked me.
But now Mexican man wearing a baggy, black, button-up shirt and black jeans, with long hair in a ponytail, sat down between the two women and held the girl in the pink skirt. The woman was obviously the man's girl. She had only been acting like she liked me in order to trick me into liking her. The man sitting in the chair now sat next to the other girl, so that now each woman was already with a man.
The four people continued talking about how they had gotten their way, how they'd tricked someone into giving them a good deal. The four of them looked at me and spoke with me as if they wanted me to be their friend. But I thought, There's no reason. There's nobody here for me to be with.
Dream #1
I was in a bus or van being driven to the airport. It was a grey, drizzly day. I sat near the front of the bus. The bus was empty except for me, the driver, and another man. The other man was slightly nervous. He told the driver, "I hear that when bad weather makes flight delays, they sometimes reroute you through different cities on different planes."
We drove along a group of planes that looked weird. One was a small jet with a very sleek face, like a Concorde mixed with a fighter jet. Another was an enormous plane with a very tall bulkhead (?).
The driver assured the man (as we dove around a large building with passenger drop-off areas for passenger for some airlines) that even if his flight got rerouted, he most likely wouldn't have to get on a flight that he didn't like.
I thought to myself, noticing that the driver was making a second round around a large building, that my flight was set to leave at XXXXX. It was already 12:19. Most airlines liked you to be present one hour early. But here I was, less than half an hour from my takeoff time, and still on the bus (which now seemed a lot like a plane).
I noticed that instead of airline signs in front of the building we presently drove around, there were signs for supermarkets (Albertsons?) and drug stores.
The driver said, "I don't see why I haven't found your airlines yet."
With some hesitance, not wanting to tell the driver how to do his job, I replied, "You drove the wrong way off the highway. This isn't the airport. It's just a shopping center." I pointed to my right and said, "The airport is back over that way and on the other side of the highway."
Dream #2
I and a small group of people looked down on a cylindrical hole dug in the ground. The hole was about eight feet deep and twenty feet in diameter. The floor and walls were smooth, probably soil. In the center of the floor was a small square dug out of the soil. There was also a rectangular niche of soil dug out all the way up one section of wall. Near the square on the floor was a pile of soil.
A blue toy like a yo-yo had been buried at a precise spot under that soil. Now we would fill the entire cylinder with soil, thus immovably fixing the blue toy in its spot.
But now we heard that GPS or satellite measurements showed that we had placed the toy in the incorrect space by just a few feet. We would have to unbury the toy, get rid of the soil, relocate the toy, then bury it under a pile of soil again, and again confirm our location.
I suddenly felt like all this activity was a joke, or that the people who were telling us how to do the job were laughing at us for actually taking such pains with the job, since it was all pretty useless, anyway. But I couldn't let myself believe that the job was useless, and I couldn't let myself believe that we were off in our burial location of the toy.
There might have been a white "X" somewhere on the ground, which had determined my choice. I felt like the "X" proved that I had put the yo-yo in the correct spot -- though the "X" was not under the pile of soil (i.e. it was not in the current location of the toy) and was almost on the opposite side of the circle. I was going to tell the people with me to fill the hole up as things were, that we were fine.
Dream #3
I was in a bus driving down a city street at night. I was a beautiful, rich woman. We drove down a street full of shop fronts and hole-in-the-wall bars. I thought wistfully about just relaxing and going into hole-in-the-wall bars. But I knew I couldn't. As the beautiful, rich woman, I had elevated myself to a position where I could no longer just pop into places like that. I could only allow myself to go to high-class places and events, like the one I was going to right now.
I saw one particular bar, which seemed to have no front wall at all. I stood in front of it, possibly as myself. The place was small, dimly candlelit, with a few tall-backed, black chairs, a couple tables, a small register-counter, and a long, black bench along the right wall.
Two women and one man walked around inside, talking about some way they had managed to trick somebody into giving them a good deal with something. One of the women, probably wearing a tiny, fluttery, pink skirt and a white tank-top, looked at me as if she were sexually attracted to me.
I walked into the bar. The two girls sat on the bench, the man in one of the seats. I thought I would sit between the two girls, to sit next to the girl I thought liked me.
But now Mexican man wearing a baggy, black, button-up shirt and black jeans, with long hair in a ponytail, sat down between the two women and held the girl in the pink skirt. The woman was obviously the man's girl. She had only been acting like she liked me in order to trick me into liking her. The man sitting in the chair now sat next to the other girl, so that now each woman was already with a man.
The four people continued talking about how they had gotten their way, how they'd tricked someone into giving them a good deal. The four of them looked at me and spoke with me as if they wanted me to be their friend. But I thought, There's no reason. There's nobody here for me to be with.
(2/11/08) no passport; astral car wash
(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in bed. I was reading a book mentioning two kinds of wood or two kinds of forest, one possibly called Greenwood, the other called Dark Wood. I sat up and looked at myself in a mirror. I had little bumps of red acne all over my face. I got really upset at my appearance and began crying.
I stood up and looked out my bedroom window. My mother and brother and sister (as kids) were pulling up in a van.
I was on some vehicle like a subway train. It pulled up to an airport. It was still early. Not all the airport was open. I went through a window-walled tunnel. A lot of people were waiting in an area near the entrance of the airport. After that area, a lot of the airport was dark. The people were waiting for the rest of the airport of to open up. I thought, Why didn't they just go through the tunnel like me? The tunnel goes straight to the plane.
I was on the plane. There were only a few people on with me. Some people were eating. I sat in my seat, on the right side of the plane, by the window. This was an international flight. We would stop for a while in Italy. I hoped I would have time to go see Michelangelo's sculpture of Moses, which was apparently in some circle on a road.
I realized I didn't have a passport. I thought I should get off the plane. But it was already moving. I thought, What's going to happen to me at my first destination? I started crying. I looked at the back of the seat in front of me. There was a brass circle with an imprinted design on it of a ring atop a crescent atop a semicircle.
Dream #2
I ran counterclockwise on a field at night. The circuit I ran was marked off by orange, plastic netting. It probably described a rough square around the grounds of a school. It was at the top of a large natural structure.
There were men like construction workers trying to block my path. I managed to evade them. The grass through which I ran got taller and thicker. Some of the flowers on the grass shone beautifully in the moonlight.
I got to the end of the circuit, which was at a cliff. I jumped. It was daytime. I flew through a range of all buildings and then over a river. I saw a tall building on the other side of the river.
I knew something unique was happening, perhaps a dream or an out-of-body experience. I told myself to stay calm and remember things, so I could prove where I'd been. At first it didn't seem like I was moving, I was so intent on the building across the river. But I found that if I looked all over without focusing on any one thing for very long, I kept moving. I focused on a large, red and white construction crane. I also saw some silvery silos in the distance.
I now flew before the large building, which was like a storage-space-rental building. I flew around it. On the back end (or front end?) was a gas station. One sign on the front of the gas station was square, white, with blue lettering.
A few stories up on the big building (behind the gas station) were openings like exits for car washes. I flew up to see people washing cars. I landed in one of these openings. I saw my reflection somewhere. At first nobody noticed me. Then someone did.
Dream #1
I was in bed. I was reading a book mentioning two kinds of wood or two kinds of forest, one possibly called Greenwood, the other called Dark Wood. I sat up and looked at myself in a mirror. I had little bumps of red acne all over my face. I got really upset at my appearance and began crying.
I stood up and looked out my bedroom window. My mother and brother and sister (as kids) were pulling up in a van.
I was on some vehicle like a subway train. It pulled up to an airport. It was still early. Not all the airport was open. I went through a window-walled tunnel. A lot of people were waiting in an area near the entrance of the airport. After that area, a lot of the airport was dark. The people were waiting for the rest of the airport of to open up. I thought, Why didn't they just go through the tunnel like me? The tunnel goes straight to the plane.
I was on the plane. There were only a few people on with me. Some people were eating. I sat in my seat, on the right side of the plane, by the window. This was an international flight. We would stop for a while in Italy. I hoped I would have time to go see Michelangelo's sculpture of Moses, which was apparently in some circle on a road.
I realized I didn't have a passport. I thought I should get off the plane. But it was already moving. I thought, What's going to happen to me at my first destination? I started crying. I looked at the back of the seat in front of me. There was a brass circle with an imprinted design on it of a ring atop a crescent atop a semicircle.
Dream #2
I ran counterclockwise on a field at night. The circuit I ran was marked off by orange, plastic netting. It probably described a rough square around the grounds of a school. It was at the top of a large natural structure.
There were men like construction workers trying to block my path. I managed to evade them. The grass through which I ran got taller and thicker. Some of the flowers on the grass shone beautifully in the moonlight.
I got to the end of the circuit, which was at a cliff. I jumped. It was daytime. I flew through a range of all buildings and then over a river. I saw a tall building on the other side of the river.
I knew something unique was happening, perhaps a dream or an out-of-body experience. I told myself to stay calm and remember things, so I could prove where I'd been. At first it didn't seem like I was moving, I was so intent on the building across the river. But I found that if I looked all over without focusing on any one thing for very long, I kept moving. I focused on a large, red and white construction crane. I also saw some silvery silos in the distance.
I now flew before the large building, which was like a storage-space-rental building. I flew around it. On the back end (or front end?) was a gas station. One sign on the front of the gas station was square, white, with blue lettering.
A few stories up on the big building (behind the gas station) were openings like exits for car washes. I flew up to see people washing cars. I landed in one of these openings. I saw my reflection somewhere. At first nobody noticed me. Then someone did.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
(3/22/08) airport; sister's wedding
(Entered in paper journal at 9:41 AM at Starbucks on Astor Place.)
Dream #1
It was night. I walked into a building that was an airport. I knew I had missed my flight, but I hoped I could get another. The front counter looked like the ticket counter at a bus station.
Dream #2
I was in a smallish house with my biological father's side of the family. My younger sister from my biological dad's family was sad and asked why I hadn't come to her wedding.
I walked from the kitchen into the living room. The living room was dim, lit only by the light from the kitchen.
Dream #1
It was night. I walked into a building that was an airport. I knew I had missed my flight, but I hoped I could get another. The front counter looked like the ticket counter at a bus station.
Dream #2
I was in a smallish house with my biological father's side of the family. My younger sister from my biological dad's family was sad and asked why I hadn't come to her wedding.
I walked from the kitchen into the living room. The living room was dim, lit only by the light from the kitchen.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
(7/15/08) sex with another girl; before i leave
(Entered in paper journal at 6:12 AM on 2-train from Brooklyn into Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was with a pretty, blonde woman. We were in a big, kind of plain room that was lit gently with incandescent light. I was kissing the woman's breasts and nipples. The woman was enjoying it. She told me to try and fit both nipples into my mouth.
I kept trying to get inside the woman. Finally she turned around so I could get inside her from behind. I was about to enter the woman, but I stopped and told her that maybe I should put on a condom first.
But, I told the woman, I didn't have any condoms. The woman sat up on the bed, which was just a couple mattresses on the floor, and threw a few small, clear, plastic boxes and bags at me. This was stuff for putting on condoms. There were apparently condoms in one of the packages, as well as lubricant and some tiny, clear, "shovel-shaped" pieces of plastic that were used to apply the lubricant.
I had no idea what I was doing. I told the woman, "I've never gotten this far with sex before. Would you be able to help me out?" The woman had been sitting up near the head of the bed, kind of holding her knees up to her chest.
I now sat in a cafe. My girlfriend H had come in to meet me. She seemed happy to see me. We sat down with two of H's female friends, both of whom may have been overweight. I couldn't see anything very well, like I was always looking down, or like I always had my vision crowded out from above.
H's friends recognized me as having come into the cafe on a previous day with the blonde woman. The friends could tell that I had taken the blonde woman home. Somehow, through their feelings, the friends transferred this information to H.
H now sat down and was drinking some sweet, red drink in a clear glass through a red straw. I tried to talk to H, but she wouldn't listen to me. She kept holding onto her glass and looking down.
Dream #2
I got a phone call from H. She said she had to go back home to Tokyo. Something had happened to her mother and father. But something was wrong with the flights. H was still waiting at the airport. She asked if I could come see her at the airport. I told H I would be there. I hoped to myself that I would actually be able to get to the airport before H's flights left.
Dream #1
I was with a pretty, blonde woman. We were in a big, kind of plain room that was lit gently with incandescent light. I was kissing the woman's breasts and nipples. The woman was enjoying it. She told me to try and fit both nipples into my mouth.
I kept trying to get inside the woman. Finally she turned around so I could get inside her from behind. I was about to enter the woman, but I stopped and told her that maybe I should put on a condom first.
But, I told the woman, I didn't have any condoms. The woman sat up on the bed, which was just a couple mattresses on the floor, and threw a few small, clear, plastic boxes and bags at me. This was stuff for putting on condoms. There were apparently condoms in one of the packages, as well as lubricant and some tiny, clear, "shovel-shaped" pieces of plastic that were used to apply the lubricant.
I had no idea what I was doing. I told the woman, "I've never gotten this far with sex before. Would you be able to help me out?" The woman had been sitting up near the head of the bed, kind of holding her knees up to her chest.
I now sat in a cafe. My girlfriend H had come in to meet me. She seemed happy to see me. We sat down with two of H's female friends, both of whom may have been overweight. I couldn't see anything very well, like I was always looking down, or like I always had my vision crowded out from above.
H's friends recognized me as having come into the cafe on a previous day with the blonde woman. The friends could tell that I had taken the blonde woman home. Somehow, through their feelings, the friends transferred this information to H.
H now sat down and was drinking some sweet, red drink in a clear glass through a red straw. I tried to talk to H, but she wouldn't listen to me. She kept holding onto her glass and looking down.
Dream #2
I got a phone call from H. She said she had to go back home to Tokyo. Something had happened to her mother and father. But something was wrong with the flights. H was still waiting at the airport. She asked if I could come see her at the airport. I told H I would be there. I hoped to myself that I would actually be able to get to the airport before H's flights left.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
(3/9/09) blackberry confiscated; transvestite work meeting
(Entered in paper journal at 8:29 AM at Starbucks on 29th Street and Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a place like an airport terminal, in one of the joining areas between concourses or hallways. There was a small crowd of people, all watching a group of executives from my old company giving a presentation or press conference. I stood at the back of the crowd. The area I stood in was open and somewhat bright, with light coming from a large window-wall.
Closer toward the stage area, the ceiling got lower and the lighting got darker. The executives all stood in a somewhat constricted area, like a small seating area for special passengers, behind waist-high, plexiglass gates. One or a few podiums lined up at the front of this area, before the crowd.
The company's CEO stood at the podium, possibly with a moderator-like person. The CEO was trying to justify something about my company's business.
I was trying to justify it myself at the same time. I started looking up articles on my BlackBerry to prove that my company wasn't bad. I did a Google search, using my company's name and then some specific type of business (can't remember what).
As I did this -- noticing that someone just to the right of me was using a smaller model of BlackBerry than the one I was using -- the CEO interrupted himself and said, "I am confiscating all handheld devices." The reason, I knew, was that the CEO thought we (I?) were trying to trade the company's stock instantaneously with the news the CEO was giving.
A black man, a few inches taller than I, round-headed and somewhat round-bodied, wearing a nice, black suit jacket and slacks and a muted, maroon or red shirt and tie, came up to me and took my BlackBerry right out of my hands. He didn't touch the other person's phone.
The presentation or conference continued on for a couple more minutes. The man had walked over to a wall to my left. He had put my BlackBerry in the left breast pocket of his suit jacket.
The conference cleared out a little. Most of the executives had headed out. This was, I thought, a break time between presentations. I thought I could wait for the next set of presentations. But I was so upset that the man had taken my BlackBerry, and I was so nervous that he wouldn't ever give it back, that I wanted to leave right then and there, just so I could go up to the man and get my BlackBerry back.
But I was afraid to go up to the man at all. I was pretty sure his intention had from the beginning been to steal my BlackBerry, and that now he'd find all kinds of excuses to keep it from me.
I thought, If only one of the executives could help me. I looked at the stage area. Of the few people who remained there I recognized only one: MB. MB sat in a comfortable chair, holding a bottle of water and stretching out his legs. I was pretty sure he wouldn't even recognize me.
Dream #2
I walked into an office. The office was maybe twelve feet by twelve feet. It was really dumpy. The light was an almost green fluorescent.
The person whose office this was (my old boss BS?) sat in a desk that was set maybe two-thirds of the way back into the room, and oriented so that the back of the person seated at the desk would face the door.
A black man sat across the desk from BS (?). The man was supposed to be a transvestite or a drag queen. But he just looked like an effeminate man. He was dressed in regular clothes, although they were possibly casual, like a grey t-shirt.
I sat down to the left of the man. The man and I spoke with BS. Another person walked in. I hoped this other person wouldn't think that I was a transvestite, too, just because I was getting along with this other guy so well.
Dream #1
I was in a place like an airport terminal, in one of the joining areas between concourses or hallways. There was a small crowd of people, all watching a group of executives from my old company giving a presentation or press conference. I stood at the back of the crowd. The area I stood in was open and somewhat bright, with light coming from a large window-wall.
Closer toward the stage area, the ceiling got lower and the lighting got darker. The executives all stood in a somewhat constricted area, like a small seating area for special passengers, behind waist-high, plexiglass gates. One or a few podiums lined up at the front of this area, before the crowd.
The company's CEO stood at the podium, possibly with a moderator-like person. The CEO was trying to justify something about my company's business.
I was trying to justify it myself at the same time. I started looking up articles on my BlackBerry to prove that my company wasn't bad. I did a Google search, using my company's name and then some specific type of business (can't remember what).
As I did this -- noticing that someone just to the right of me was using a smaller model of BlackBerry than the one I was using -- the CEO interrupted himself and said, "I am confiscating all handheld devices." The reason, I knew, was that the CEO thought we (I?) were trying to trade the company's stock instantaneously with the news the CEO was giving.
A black man, a few inches taller than I, round-headed and somewhat round-bodied, wearing a nice, black suit jacket and slacks and a muted, maroon or red shirt and tie, came up to me and took my BlackBerry right out of my hands. He didn't touch the other person's phone.
The presentation or conference continued on for a couple more minutes. The man had walked over to a wall to my left. He had put my BlackBerry in the left breast pocket of his suit jacket.
The conference cleared out a little. Most of the executives had headed out. This was, I thought, a break time between presentations. I thought I could wait for the next set of presentations. But I was so upset that the man had taken my BlackBerry, and I was so nervous that he wouldn't ever give it back, that I wanted to leave right then and there, just so I could go up to the man and get my BlackBerry back.
But I was afraid to go up to the man at all. I was pretty sure his intention had from the beginning been to steal my BlackBerry, and that now he'd find all kinds of excuses to keep it from me.
I thought, If only one of the executives could help me. I looked at the stage area. Of the few people who remained there I recognized only one: MB. MB sat in a comfortable chair, holding a bottle of water and stretching out his legs. I was pretty sure he wouldn't even recognize me.
Dream #2
I walked into an office. The office was maybe twelve feet by twelve feet. It was really dumpy. The light was an almost green fluorescent.
The person whose office this was (my old boss BS?) sat in a desk that was set maybe two-thirds of the way back into the room, and oriented so that the back of the person seated at the desk would face the door.
A black man sat across the desk from BS (?). The man was supposed to be a transvestite or a drag queen. But he just looked like an effeminate man. He was dressed in regular clothes, although they were possibly casual, like a grey t-shirt.
I sat down to the left of the man. The man and I spoke with BS. Another person walked in. I hoped this other person wouldn't think that I was a transvestite, too, just because I was getting along with this other guy so well.
Friday, November 16, 2012
(9/27/09) struggle for lucidity; the murakami bug
Dream #1
I opened my eyes in my bedroom. The bedroom was dark, and my vision was a bit staticky. I realized that my lights were off, which wasn't usual for my room. (Due to some problems with paranoia, I'd slept with my lights on from about July of 2009 through about the end of 2010.)
I realized I was dreaming. I became lucid. But I immediately began losing my dream. Everything faded into blackness, as if I had closed my eyes. I told myself to open my eyes again. It took an immense effort. But when my eyes began to open, my dream-vision smeared out before me, as if I were speeding through a tunnel the walls of which were made of my dream-bedroom.
I now had my eyes open in my bedroom, with the lights on. I was awake. (I may actually have been awake at this point.) I lay on my back and looked up to the ceiling, my head half-covered by m blanket. I fell into a numbed state and thought I was probably on the verge of sleeping and dreaming again. At some point the lights may even have gone out in my room.
I told myself, Well, you can't get back to the lucid dream you were having. But perhaps if you're in this state, you can push yourself into another lucid dream, or even an out of body experience, an astral projection. I told myself to concentrate. I "concentrated" intensely, almost viciously.
I felt a rushing (downward or upward?) sensation in my body. I felt like closed-eye purple electrodes had attached to my body to pull me upward. I felt like I was scowling, teeth bared, to pull myself upward, out of my body. I thought, I'm doing it!
Everything went black. (I may have woken up and then gone back to sleep for another dream.) I lay in my bedroom and opened my eyes again. The room was dark, swimming with staticky orgone eyebugs. I told myself, You're dreaming again. Get up this time.
I was suddenly standing, at the foot of where I had been laying, my blanket crumpled up like a cocoon at my feet. I ma have thought of myself as wearing a grey robe, being all grey myself, and even wearing a head covering, like a woman in a Giotto painting portraying Jesus' life might wear.
I lost my energy or my focus again. My eyes closed. I told myself to open them, not to lose my dream. I succeeded in doing this, but almost immediately afterward, the scene became increasingly staticky, maybe even grey-white, and I lost my dream.
Dream #2
I was in a big room with a couple other people. My mother may possibly have been among the people. The room may have been a mix between something like a hallway in an airport terminal and a nice, wood-walled library in a mansion. Natural light came in from a window to the right, the window possibly almost as tall and wide as the wall itself.
On the left wall was a platform that ran along the entire wall, lifted up maybe three feet from the rest of the floor, with railing -- structured almost like the moving walkway conveyor belts at airports, but, again, with touches of wood, carpeting, etc., that made it look like something in a mansion. I stood on that platform, probably with my mother.
We had found a small bug and were now having to dispose of it. The bug was almost beetle shaped, but with a much more distinct, rounder head, almost half the size of its body. The bug's color was a pale-copper brown, dappled with a pale-brown, almost like a pale version of the color on a sunflower seed's shell. We grabbed up the bug in a napkin and tossed it into (or toward?) a trashcan.
My mother walked away, down the long hallway. In some way, it felt like she was walking from one wing of the NYPL Rose Main Reading Room to the other. The other two women (???) may also have been gone now.
I noticed that the bug hadn't gone into the trashcan after all. I saw it wandering around on the floor. I picked it up (it was maybe three quarters of an inch long) to throw it away. But now, panicked, not wanting to be thrown away, the bug grew thin, green, vegetation-like tendrils out of itself. These tendrils grew long and coiled themselves around. They grew little leafs or thorns, so that the bug almost looked decorated with something out of a work by Takashi Murakami.
I tried to throw the bug into the white trash bag, but I couldn't: the tendrils stuck to me like sticky stalks of weeds. I tried to shake the bug off me. The tendrils now coiled all around my hands, and the "leafs" (if they ever had been leafs) were now soft thorns sticking into my skin. (During all this, I noticed that I was wearing white, latex gloves.) I finally somehow managed to shake the Murakami-bug off my hands.
The bug didn't go all the way into the trash. It clung to the side of the bag, near the mouth of the trashcan, its tendrils sprawling out like uncoiled wire, threatening to spring back out of the can by the energy of their own tension. I thought I'd have to be ready for that.
I now walked down the platform, possibly following after the women. I looked at my hands. I noticed that I had cuts on my hands from where the little thorns had dug in. At first the cuts seemed small, just like little scratches. But then I saw that some of the cuts, especially around the knuckles at the base of my fingers, cut all the way to the bone.
I looked into one of these cuts and saw something beneath that looked like firm, porous tofu. It sickened me to see that, but I told myself not to worry about it. It's fat, I think, I told myself. Your friends have told about seeing that before, when they'd broken their bones or cut themselves really deeply. So don't worry about it.
I may now have met up with a few of my friends, possibly from my old improv comedy team from college. My friends all sat in an airport-like seating area that also looked like part of a mansion. My friends might have regarded me like I was a joke, not to be taken seriously, and then gone back to whatever their conversation had been.
I opened my eyes in my bedroom. The bedroom was dark, and my vision was a bit staticky. I realized that my lights were off, which wasn't usual for my room. (Due to some problems with paranoia, I'd slept with my lights on from about July of 2009 through about the end of 2010.)
I realized I was dreaming. I became lucid. But I immediately began losing my dream. Everything faded into blackness, as if I had closed my eyes. I told myself to open my eyes again. It took an immense effort. But when my eyes began to open, my dream-vision smeared out before me, as if I were speeding through a tunnel the walls of which were made of my dream-bedroom.
I now had my eyes open in my bedroom, with the lights on. I was awake. (I may actually have been awake at this point.) I lay on my back and looked up to the ceiling, my head half-covered by m blanket. I fell into a numbed state and thought I was probably on the verge of sleeping and dreaming again. At some point the lights may even have gone out in my room.
I told myself, Well, you can't get back to the lucid dream you were having. But perhaps if you're in this state, you can push yourself into another lucid dream, or even an out of body experience, an astral projection. I told myself to concentrate. I "concentrated" intensely, almost viciously.
I felt a rushing (downward or upward?) sensation in my body. I felt like closed-eye purple electrodes had attached to my body to pull me upward. I felt like I was scowling, teeth bared, to pull myself upward, out of my body. I thought, I'm doing it!
Everything went black. (I may have woken up and then gone back to sleep for another dream.) I lay in my bedroom and opened my eyes again. The room was dark, swimming with staticky orgone eyebugs. I told myself, You're dreaming again. Get up this time.
I was suddenly standing, at the foot of where I had been laying, my blanket crumpled up like a cocoon at my feet. I ma have thought of myself as wearing a grey robe, being all grey myself, and even wearing a head covering, like a woman in a Giotto painting portraying Jesus' life might wear.
I lost my energy or my focus again. My eyes closed. I told myself to open them, not to lose my dream. I succeeded in doing this, but almost immediately afterward, the scene became increasingly staticky, maybe even grey-white, and I lost my dream.
Dream #2
I was in a big room with a couple other people. My mother may possibly have been among the people. The room may have been a mix between something like a hallway in an airport terminal and a nice, wood-walled library in a mansion. Natural light came in from a window to the right, the window possibly almost as tall and wide as the wall itself.
On the left wall was a platform that ran along the entire wall, lifted up maybe three feet from the rest of the floor, with railing -- structured almost like the moving walkway conveyor belts at airports, but, again, with touches of wood, carpeting, etc., that made it look like something in a mansion. I stood on that platform, probably with my mother.
We had found a small bug and were now having to dispose of it. The bug was almost beetle shaped, but with a much more distinct, rounder head, almost half the size of its body. The bug's color was a pale-copper brown, dappled with a pale-brown, almost like a pale version of the color on a sunflower seed's shell. We grabbed up the bug in a napkin and tossed it into (or toward?) a trashcan.
My mother walked away, down the long hallway. In some way, it felt like she was walking from one wing of the NYPL Rose Main Reading Room to the other. The other two women (???) may also have been gone now.
I noticed that the bug hadn't gone into the trashcan after all. I saw it wandering around on the floor. I picked it up (it was maybe three quarters of an inch long) to throw it away. But now, panicked, not wanting to be thrown away, the bug grew thin, green, vegetation-like tendrils out of itself. These tendrils grew long and coiled themselves around. They grew little leafs or thorns, so that the bug almost looked decorated with something out of a work by Takashi Murakami.
I tried to throw the bug into the white trash bag, but I couldn't: the tendrils stuck to me like sticky stalks of weeds. I tried to shake the bug off me. The tendrils now coiled all around my hands, and the "leafs" (if they ever had been leafs) were now soft thorns sticking into my skin. (During all this, I noticed that I was wearing white, latex gloves.) I finally somehow managed to shake the Murakami-bug off my hands.
The bug didn't go all the way into the trash. It clung to the side of the bag, near the mouth of the trashcan, its tendrils sprawling out like uncoiled wire, threatening to spring back out of the can by the energy of their own tension. I thought I'd have to be ready for that.
I now walked down the platform, possibly following after the women. I looked at my hands. I noticed that I had cuts on my hands from where the little thorns had dug in. At first the cuts seemed small, just like little scratches. But then I saw that some of the cuts, especially around the knuckles at the base of my fingers, cut all the way to the bone.
I looked into one of these cuts and saw something beneath that looked like firm, porous tofu. It sickened me to see that, but I told myself not to worry about it. It's fat, I think, I told myself. Your friends have told about seeing that before, when they'd broken their bones or cut themselves really deeply. So don't worry about it.
I may now have met up with a few of my friends, possibly from my old improv comedy team from college. My friends all sat in an airport-like seating area that also looked like part of a mansion. My friends might have regarded me like I was a joke, not to be taken seriously, and then gone back to whatever their conversation had been.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
(12/27/09) home in the woods; follow that mom!
(Entered in paper journal at 8:24 AM at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was with someone, maybe my brother, in the woods. We were near our/my car, which was stopped on a dirt road. The weather was cold. It was nearing night.
Now the night had passed. I had spent the whole night here, in a tent. The other person had "gone back." I stood near the car and looked at the woods around me. I was proud for having camped here all night.
Now I had to go hiking through the woods. But the light was still dark blue-grey, pre-sunrise light. I felt afraid to go into the deep woods in the darkness, or even in the light. I worried that a wild animal would attack and eat me. The area around me was grassy with the occasional shrub or pine tree dotting the landscape, and edged by a deep forest of pine trees.
Suddenly I noticed a coyote hiding behind a shrub and looking at me. I got afraid and made some aggressive kicking move at the coyote, scaring the coyote out of the shrub, which was maybe fifty feet away from me. The coyote trotted away, looking at me shyly. I felt bad, thinking I'd scared away a perfectly innocent coyote. I may have seen a domesticated dog off to the left as the coyote wandered off to the right. I may also have seen another, unrecognizable animal.
I was now back "at home," which was a house like a double-wide trailer at the head of the trail I'd taken into the woods. I stood with a group of people in my family, including my Aunt B and Uncle M. I stood at eye level with a tangled bunch of different, tall-stalked wildflowers. The morning was bright, sunny, and kind of warm, and the flowers and stalks glittered with dew.
Somewhere in a little clearing amid these flowers, I knew, a tent stood up on an oval of lawn. My little cousins (even though in waking life they are no longer little) had camped there the night before. Either my Uncle M or Aunt B was telling me that the kids had camped out here for a little while, but that they had gotten scared or cold and that Uncle M had to bring them in.
Dream #2
I was riding in the backseat (?) and passenger side of my grandma P's car. My grandma P drove, and either my brother or sister was also in the car. It was a golden, sunny day. We were driving up a steep hill in a residential neighborhood, but we were also near either a busy road or a highway.
Suddenly my mom pulled up from behind us to our right. She yelled out her window at us that she had to go to XXXXX (either a hospital or a jail or both), possibly to see my brother, and that she couldn't stop, she had to keep driving there. So, she said, she would meet us back at home, but she didn't know when, maybe not even today. She said it in such a nonchalant and yet urgent manner that I at first thought all was completely fine.
But suddenly I realized I was headed for the airport, to go back home to New York, pretty soon. I had to get back home. But my mom had all my luggage, including my airplane ticket, in her car. We were going to meet at her house so she could give me all that stuff. But now she wanted to have all of us sit there and wait while she went off and did whatever! I knew the only reason she was doing this was to make me miss my flight.
I told my grandma, "Follow my mom's car! We're going wherever she's going. I'm getting my ticket and getting out of here!"
My mom was already out of sight, but I think we had an idea of where we were going. We drove toward some facility, hoping we were going to the right place. But I wasn't sure we were.
Dream #1
I was with someone, maybe my brother, in the woods. We were near our/my car, which was stopped on a dirt road. The weather was cold. It was nearing night.
Now the night had passed. I had spent the whole night here, in a tent. The other person had "gone back." I stood near the car and looked at the woods around me. I was proud for having camped here all night.
Now I had to go hiking through the woods. But the light was still dark blue-grey, pre-sunrise light. I felt afraid to go into the deep woods in the darkness, or even in the light. I worried that a wild animal would attack and eat me. The area around me was grassy with the occasional shrub or pine tree dotting the landscape, and edged by a deep forest of pine trees.
Suddenly I noticed a coyote hiding behind a shrub and looking at me. I got afraid and made some aggressive kicking move at the coyote, scaring the coyote out of the shrub, which was maybe fifty feet away from me. The coyote trotted away, looking at me shyly. I felt bad, thinking I'd scared away a perfectly innocent coyote. I may have seen a domesticated dog off to the left as the coyote wandered off to the right. I may also have seen another, unrecognizable animal.
I was now back "at home," which was a house like a double-wide trailer at the head of the trail I'd taken into the woods. I stood with a group of people in my family, including my Aunt B and Uncle M. I stood at eye level with a tangled bunch of different, tall-stalked wildflowers. The morning was bright, sunny, and kind of warm, and the flowers and stalks glittered with dew.
Somewhere in a little clearing amid these flowers, I knew, a tent stood up on an oval of lawn. My little cousins (even though in waking life they are no longer little) had camped there the night before. Either my Uncle M or Aunt B was telling me that the kids had camped out here for a little while, but that they had gotten scared or cold and that Uncle M had to bring them in.
Dream #2
I was riding in the backseat (?) and passenger side of my grandma P's car. My grandma P drove, and either my brother or sister was also in the car. It was a golden, sunny day. We were driving up a steep hill in a residential neighborhood, but we were also near either a busy road or a highway.
Suddenly my mom pulled up from behind us to our right. She yelled out her window at us that she had to go to XXXXX (either a hospital or a jail or both), possibly to see my brother, and that she couldn't stop, she had to keep driving there. So, she said, she would meet us back at home, but she didn't know when, maybe not even today. She said it in such a nonchalant and yet urgent manner that I at first thought all was completely fine.
But suddenly I realized I was headed for the airport, to go back home to New York, pretty soon. I had to get back home. But my mom had all my luggage, including my airplane ticket, in her car. We were going to meet at her house so she could give me all that stuff. But now she wanted to have all of us sit there and wait while she went off and did whatever! I knew the only reason she was doing this was to make me miss my flight.
I told my grandma, "Follow my mom's car! We're going wherever she's going. I'm getting my ticket and getting out of here!"
My mom was already out of sight, but I think we had an idea of where we were going. We drove toward some facility, hoping we were going to the right place. But I wasn't sure we were.
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