(No time/place info given. Assuming dreams written at home in Albuquerque.)
Dream 1
Trashbag, river, rock bank. Try to throw twice. One across then falls in. Then way down river breaks. "Run" after it. Grab what trash I can. River becomes road. People pick up remaining trash, put in can. I take last item, Wendy's Biggie Shake cup, folks say it was too clean inside it, something else going on.
Now I am looking for something missing? Fly, quickly through building in two different ways. People see me only fly second way. Up and down floors, finally up to 25th (or 26th?) floor, to meeting place of Superiors, who are not good people (?).
Dream 2
Looking at dioramas. "Spend much time," my old high school teacher CP says. Now in other room four displays of one girl's dioramas. Now in first town, tell CP where I was. He begins to tell me about old boys of town. Some kid comes in. CP helps kid. Comes back, now is woman. Tells me about old days in Albuquerque. Crickets. Now only empty places are XXXXX, but rock concerts always there.
Showing posts with label albuquerque. Show all posts
Showing posts with label albuquerque. Show all posts
Friday, March 24, 2017
(10/12/04) stones and pumpkins; the wrong mexican restaurant
(No time/place info given.)
Dream 1
It was night. I stood on some patio-like, concrete square that was in bad condition at the edge of a backyard. Smallish, weedy vegetation grew all around it. There were electric lights like stadium lights from somewhere.
I stood with my "cousin PS" (who may have looked like Mick Jagger) and "another kid," who looked like Keith Richards. We were trying to write a song. I kept poking "Keith" in the sternum with the fingertips of my right hand.
"Keith" or somebody (we all had guitars and there seemed to be four or five of us) began playing chords to which I thought out, somewhat by trial and error, a riff for a song. All I remember of it now is that it had five notes, which all sounded the same except one that bent upward.
I now stood at the other end of the concrete square, a much more wrecked end. "My cousin PS" was now much more like my cousin PS. He and his friends had a jack-o-lantern, which they were preparing to kick into the next yard. I told them not to, as they might get in trouble. Then I myself (?) did it, watching the pumpkin loose an orange trail after itself as it rose sharply then descended sharply into the other yard. It might possibly have been ready to explode.
Dream 2
Can't remember beginning. Now I, my grandma J, and my brother were at a place that was supposed to be Pancho's Mexican Buffet in Albuquerque. We were all waiting for my grandpa. The fact that he hadn't showed up yet meant he was in physical trouble.
We sat at a table the seating of which was booth-seating on one side and chairs on the other. My grandma sat opposite me, in the booth. My brother sat in the chair to my right. The buffet was off some vague but close distance to my left. We all had somewhat large plates of food. I fumbled around with mine, discovering some rice under an enchilada or tamale.
We spoke vaguely about my grandpa, becoming increasingly worried about him, until he suddenly showed up. And now it was as if he had been there all along, in my grandma's spot, and my grandma in the spot to the left of my grandpa.
We were all drinking beers. My grandpa was trying to tell us of another Mexican restaurant he'd been to in Albuquerque that had better food than this one, but was lit dimly.
My brother said, "Oh, it was Chihuahua's." But my grandpa said no. There was a slight argument and a slight rise in tension, during which time I felt a little sick. Then somehow my grandpa became a lot more conciliatory, though now apparently neither of them knew which restaurant my grandpa was referring to.
Dream 1
It was night. I stood on some patio-like, concrete square that was in bad condition at the edge of a backyard. Smallish, weedy vegetation grew all around it. There were electric lights like stadium lights from somewhere.
I stood with my "cousin PS" (who may have looked like Mick Jagger) and "another kid," who looked like Keith Richards. We were trying to write a song. I kept poking "Keith" in the sternum with the fingertips of my right hand.
"Keith" or somebody (we all had guitars and there seemed to be four or five of us) began playing chords to which I thought out, somewhat by trial and error, a riff for a song. All I remember of it now is that it had five notes, which all sounded the same except one that bent upward.
I now stood at the other end of the concrete square, a much more wrecked end. "My cousin PS" was now much more like my cousin PS. He and his friends had a jack-o-lantern, which they were preparing to kick into the next yard. I told them not to, as they might get in trouble. Then I myself (?) did it, watching the pumpkin loose an orange trail after itself as it rose sharply then descended sharply into the other yard. It might possibly have been ready to explode.
Dream 2
Can't remember beginning. Now I, my grandma J, and my brother were at a place that was supposed to be Pancho's Mexican Buffet in Albuquerque. We were all waiting for my grandpa. The fact that he hadn't showed up yet meant he was in physical trouble.
We sat at a table the seating of which was booth-seating on one side and chairs on the other. My grandma sat opposite me, in the booth. My brother sat in the chair to my right. The buffet was off some vague but close distance to my left. We all had somewhat large plates of food. I fumbled around with mine, discovering some rice under an enchilada or tamale.
We spoke vaguely about my grandpa, becoming increasingly worried about him, until he suddenly showed up. And now it was as if he had been there all along, in my grandma's spot, and my grandma in the spot to the left of my grandpa.
We were all drinking beers. My grandpa was trying to tell us of another Mexican restaurant he'd been to in Albuquerque that had better food than this one, but was lit dimly.
My brother said, "Oh, it was Chihuahua's." But my grandpa said no. There was a slight argument and a slight rise in tension, during which time I felt a little sick. Then somehow my grandpa became a lot more conciliatory, though now apparently neither of them knew which restaurant my grandpa was referring to.
Saturday, March 18, 2017
(12/28/04) double-date apocalypse
(Entered in paper journal at 6:45 AM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I believe I was in an Adecco temporary staffing agency office in New Mexico. I sat between a man and a woman. We had all applied for an Americorps position. A couple woman in their thirties were behind a small, enclosed counter like a pharmacy booth, talking about us. From what they said, I felt that they might have found me a better job.
I walked into some strange side room with a black-plastic-lined pedestal in the middle. My dress shirt, pants, and tie were all now in a "fashionable" disarray. I held a pose. I felt like I was about to wet my pants.
In the other room the woman felt she was being looked over for any good job. So she tried to talk to the "agents" like she was smart. But she messed up what she was saying, laughed at herself, and sat down, feeling even more deserted than before.
Now TY (from the Albuquerque office I'd actually worked through) walked into the room I was in. She sat me down in a chair and said something like, "Well, congratulations. Get all your stuff ready to go back to New York. You're going to work with them." I was let down. "Them," in New York, meant my NYC Americorps program.
They gave me a little more info. She then said, "I still don't have the contact number for your arbiter yet." I asked if the arbiter was the Americorps representative. She said she didn't know. I said it may be one fo the really wealthy folks who help fund my stipend. But I thought that was a "patron."
Now (?) I was on a dark subway train. No lights. I might have been there with my brother. The train may have pulled out of a lit station. It was a shuttle train. It passed into a dark, dark platform with dim,green columns.
I opened the doors (as if they were swinging bedroom doors) just a crack to see the stop. I closed the doors quickly. If you let any light out or let anybody see you at that stop you were bound to be mutilated, murdered, and possibly eaten. I knew the shuttle train was heading to Times Square (although the image "in my head" was of Grand Central) and that it would get there quickly. So we'd be safe.
At some point my brother and I were walking through a log house in the dark. It may have been an empty house that we used to live in.
But now we were back on the train, once again in the dark. I opened the door. Now the dangerous area didn't even look like a platform. It was like the tracks had sunk into a building skeleton twenty feet or so below platform level. It was like an unfinished building inside a mine shaft. I quickly closed the door. This time I had felt the presence of people/demons.
I thought we were safe. But then I realized I had been shining a flashlight the whole time to see out into what otherwise would have been total darkness. I thought about the Times Square stop, hoping we'd get there quickly. But now I felt like I was no longer in the train but flying on my back, my head pointing toward Times Square, with a dim light shining over me.
I then "narrated," "I shouldn't have been surprised that I got my leg mutilated by the demons that day. The day began simply enough, with a double-date. Everybody was way too nervous upon seeing each other."
Now there was a visual, something like in this shape,
so that the heads of "six" people could be seen. All I know now is that the central figures were gloppy, clearish, bluish ghosts, one possibly with a human wrapped around it. Also one set of top and bottom figures were supermen. The other set I don't remember. They were all quivering like electrified jelly because they were so excited to be going out with one another.
Dream 1
I believe I was in an Adecco temporary staffing agency office in New Mexico. I sat between a man and a woman. We had all applied for an Americorps position. A couple woman in their thirties were behind a small, enclosed counter like a pharmacy booth, talking about us. From what they said, I felt that they might have found me a better job.
I walked into some strange side room with a black-plastic-lined pedestal in the middle. My dress shirt, pants, and tie were all now in a "fashionable" disarray. I held a pose. I felt like I was about to wet my pants.
In the other room the woman felt she was being looked over for any good job. So she tried to talk to the "agents" like she was smart. But she messed up what she was saying, laughed at herself, and sat down, feeling even more deserted than before.
Now TY (from the Albuquerque office I'd actually worked through) walked into the room I was in. She sat me down in a chair and said something like, "Well, congratulations. Get all your stuff ready to go back to New York. You're going to work with them." I was let down. "Them," in New York, meant my NYC Americorps program.
They gave me a little more info. She then said, "I still don't have the contact number for your arbiter yet." I asked if the arbiter was the Americorps representative. She said she didn't know. I said it may be one fo the really wealthy folks who help fund my stipend. But I thought that was a "patron."
Now (?) I was on a dark subway train. No lights. I might have been there with my brother. The train may have pulled out of a lit station. It was a shuttle train. It passed into a dark, dark platform with dim,green columns.
I opened the doors (as if they were swinging bedroom doors) just a crack to see the stop. I closed the doors quickly. If you let any light out or let anybody see you at that stop you were bound to be mutilated, murdered, and possibly eaten. I knew the shuttle train was heading to Times Square (although the image "in my head" was of Grand Central) and that it would get there quickly. So we'd be safe.
At some point my brother and I were walking through a log house in the dark. It may have been an empty house that we used to live in.
But now we were back on the train, once again in the dark. I opened the door. Now the dangerous area didn't even look like a platform. It was like the tracks had sunk into a building skeleton twenty feet or so below platform level. It was like an unfinished building inside a mine shaft. I quickly closed the door. This time I had felt the presence of people/demons.
I thought we were safe. But then I realized I had been shining a flashlight the whole time to see out into what otherwise would have been total darkness. I thought about the Times Square stop, hoping we'd get there quickly. But now I felt like I was no longer in the train but flying on my back, my head pointing toward Times Square, with a dim light shining over me.
I then "narrated," "I shouldn't have been surprised that I got my leg mutilated by the demons that day. The day began simply enough, with a double-date. Everybody was way too nervous upon seeing each other."
Now there was a visual, something like in this shape,
so that the heads of "six" people could be seen. All I know now is that the central figures were gloppy, clearish, bluish ghosts, one possibly with a human wrapped around it. Also one set of top and bottom figures were supermen. The other set I don't remember. They were all quivering like electrified jelly because they were so excited to be going out with one another.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
(4/22/05) parking structure
(NOTE: At this time, I was really into trying to have mystical experiences. I would try to have out-of-body experiences at night. But I would also try to have lucid dreams. I would try to have lucid dreams for the experience in itself. But I also saw lucid dreaming as a means to achieving out-of-body experiences. Another way I saw to be a gateway to OBEs was spontaneous imaginations -- a kind of induced reverie I learned, partly from the paranormal books I read and partly from the works of Carl Jung. In this practice, I would try my best to let my mind wander and spontaneously create imagery, landscapes, atmospheres, etc., in which I would then wander around. I had greater and less success with this practice. In some cases, these imaginations would fade into dreams. When I had spontaneous imaginations but not dreams, I would record the imaginations in my main notebook. But, as below, when I wouldn't be sure whether I had dreamed or had a vivid spontaneous imagination, I would write the experience in my dream notebook. The dream below is also interesting, because it also seems to meld into a lucid dream.)
(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at home in Harlem.)
I'm not quite certain that this was a "dream."
Dream 1
I suddenly realized I was in a "scene," like a spontaneous scene I'd have in my imagination practices at night. But I felt myself there and was really surprised at that. So I told myself to calm down, focus, and move slowly.
The scene shifted weirdly. At first it looked like a covered walkway before the huge parking lot of a barely visited strip mall I would occasionally walk past in Albuquerque. But as I walked toward the parking lot the concrete walkway and ceiling continued stretching with new columns until the place seemed more like a parking structure on the side of a road. All the time the atmosphere had a sepia-crimson tint. I didn't take much note of this.
I finally got to the road as a van (?) passed. The sky was dark grey. Now something else happened that I don't quite remember. It's like I was walking toward a busy intersection that would allow me to get my bearings in what I thought was New Mexico. But as I approached and "reached" that intersection it became something else, and a new intersection appeared up ahead.
I was a little discouraged. I tried to understand what I was experiencing. Was it my imagination practice? Was it a lucid dream? Was it an out-of-body experience? And what caused these scene shifts? I didn't know what caused them, but I was disappointed in my "lucidity power," not in my inability consistently to change things (which is what I'm usually disappointed in), but in my inability to keep things consistent and "realistic."
I walked up to the intersection. Right before I reached it another vehicle passed me slowly. I think it was an old, wide, 1970s style car. The man inside, white, fleshy, balding (I think), in a yellow t-shirt (?), flatly, blankly stared at me, as if he didn't have a face at all, but also as if his fleshy face portrayed a distinct and yet relaxed loathing toward me. But perhaps this is a wrong impression, because I also remember wanting to ask him a question, to interact with him.
I stopped walking. I was just a couple dozen steps from the intersection. But some kind of tension got me nervous. I woke up.
(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at home in Harlem.)
I'm not quite certain that this was a "dream."
Dream 1
I suddenly realized I was in a "scene," like a spontaneous scene I'd have in my imagination practices at night. But I felt myself there and was really surprised at that. So I told myself to calm down, focus, and move slowly.
The scene shifted weirdly. At first it looked like a covered walkway before the huge parking lot of a barely visited strip mall I would occasionally walk past in Albuquerque. But as I walked toward the parking lot the concrete walkway and ceiling continued stretching with new columns until the place seemed more like a parking structure on the side of a road. All the time the atmosphere had a sepia-crimson tint. I didn't take much note of this.
I finally got to the road as a van (?) passed. The sky was dark grey. Now something else happened that I don't quite remember. It's like I was walking toward a busy intersection that would allow me to get my bearings in what I thought was New Mexico. But as I approached and "reached" that intersection it became something else, and a new intersection appeared up ahead.
I was a little discouraged. I tried to understand what I was experiencing. Was it my imagination practice? Was it a lucid dream? Was it an out-of-body experience? And what caused these scene shifts? I didn't know what caused them, but I was disappointed in my "lucidity power," not in my inability consistently to change things (which is what I'm usually disappointed in), but in my inability to keep things consistent and "realistic."
I walked up to the intersection. Right before I reached it another vehicle passed me slowly. I think it was an old, wide, 1970s style car. The man inside, white, fleshy, balding (I think), in a yellow t-shirt (?), flatly, blankly stared at me, as if he didn't have a face at all, but also as if his fleshy face portrayed a distinct and yet relaxed loathing toward me. But perhaps this is a wrong impression, because I also remember wanting to ask him a question, to interact with him.
I stopped walking. I was just a couple dozen steps from the intersection. But some kind of tension got me nervous. I woke up.
Sunday, February 12, 2017
(7/18/06) sliding down a mine shaft; not sleeping together; shades of black; mom takes me shopping
(Entered in paper journal at 6:15 AM on train from Utica Avenue in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was with two other men, hikers, going up a mountain cliff of ice. It was day. We were in thick, tan, fur-lined coats. I was behind the leader. We were in the shade.
We ascended to a hole like a mine shaft, except that it was the size of a dumbwaiter or heating vent. The leader went down the shaft. I felt his apprehension, like going down the slide-like shaft was a mistake -- also that the slide pinched his bottom and legs somehow.
I was now sliding behind the leader. The floor of the shaft was like ice over a black, metallic material. Soon the ice wore away, the slope leveled out, and the shaped widened into an open space.
The leader and I (I don't know about the third person) stood and walked to a house that looked somehow Mexican, with thin (wooden or concrete) posts in arching patterns for a roof over a nice patio. It was dark, but the house was lit as if by moonlight.
Dream 2
I was at a party (?), possibly at my friend R's house. I sat on a couch with a blonde woman. Soon we were by ourselves (or possibly speaking with a third person). We were under a blanket. She was naked. I was kissing her near her vagina. I wanted to bury my face in her vagina.
Now it was like some of that hadn't happened. I was on the couch in an empty version of a room very like R's TV room with L's sister A. I didn't know whether A liked me. We were both tired. I figured if we both slept on the couch that would mean she liked me.
But R stood before us. He wanted to talk. I said something like, "We're both tired. I think we're gonna say goodnight."
R looked at me with a daze dazed with anger that he was hiding -- jealousy that a girl liked me and not him. He left.
A reached her arms out toward me, but more like she wanted to tell me goodbye and not like she wanted me to stay.
I said, "Weren't we planning to sleep here together? What's wrong? Do you not have enough pillows?"
A said, "No, no. I have a pillow." A was laying so her head was two feet from the end of the couch. She looked awkward and uncomfortable, under a scant blanket and on a thin pillow, while a lot of nice blankets and pillows were beside her and at the head of the couch.
Dream 3
(Not sure if this was a "dream.")
I lay in bed. Suddenly I was very relaxed. I "felt" a visual of my body as an aura pattern. But all the aura's gradations were shades of black. My body was like a funnel or tunnel moving in toward a deep black oval at my solar plexus.
A woman who was about seventy years old asked me questions I can't remember, specifically about my body. She may have asked me a question about my right arm, to which I responded, "I don't know. The colors all seem black to me." I was intrigued that an answer regarding the physical condition of my body was stated as regarding the color condition of my aura.
The woman now asked about the deepening of my aura at the solar plexus, how it was somehow troubled. This spot was key to my identity. The woman gave this spot the name Ren-O-Wen.
Dream 4
My mom had called to tell me that if I still needed XXXXX, she would come pick me up on Monday to go get it. XXXXX was something like pants or shirts. I told her okay. But then I realized I shouldn't do something silly like go shopping with my mom on a Monday. Everybody at work would laugh at me.
It was morning, maybe around 6:30 AM. I was in the desert, by a shopping center/strip mall before a sun-obscuring, shade-purple and pink mountain range. The air was slightly mist. I walked toward the mountains.
I was in XXXXX (as if "this" "Santa Fe" were south of Albuquerque). I had to get to Albuquerque to get what my mom wanted to buy me. (It was Saturday, so my mom wouldn't have to come down on Monday, after all.) But I realized Albuquerque was seventy miles up the road and over those huge mountains.
I sat on a wood post before the shopping center parking lot. Suddenly my mom drove up in a van with a man. She stopped. I got in. She told me she'd had a feeling I'd try to make it on my own. So she'd driven down here to pick me up today instead of Monday. I was relieved.
We drove to "my house." I was inside "my house" now, as if waiting for my mom to come pick me up, as if she hadn't just picked me up. I was on the phone with my boss BS's girlfriend. She complained about how BS spent too much time at work. Now BS and my mom drove up in the van to take me shopping.
Dream 1
I was with two other men, hikers, going up a mountain cliff of ice. It was day. We were in thick, tan, fur-lined coats. I was behind the leader. We were in the shade.
We ascended to a hole like a mine shaft, except that it was the size of a dumbwaiter or heating vent. The leader went down the shaft. I felt his apprehension, like going down the slide-like shaft was a mistake -- also that the slide pinched his bottom and legs somehow.
I was now sliding behind the leader. The floor of the shaft was like ice over a black, metallic material. Soon the ice wore away, the slope leveled out, and the shaped widened into an open space.
The leader and I (I don't know about the third person) stood and walked to a house that looked somehow Mexican, with thin (wooden or concrete) posts in arching patterns for a roof over a nice patio. It was dark, but the house was lit as if by moonlight.
Dream 2
I was at a party (?), possibly at my friend R's house. I sat on a couch with a blonde woman. Soon we were by ourselves (or possibly speaking with a third person). We were under a blanket. She was naked. I was kissing her near her vagina. I wanted to bury my face in her vagina.
Now it was like some of that hadn't happened. I was on the couch in an empty version of a room very like R's TV room with L's sister A. I didn't know whether A liked me. We were both tired. I figured if we both slept on the couch that would mean she liked me.
But R stood before us. He wanted to talk. I said something like, "We're both tired. I think we're gonna say goodnight."
R looked at me with a daze dazed with anger that he was hiding -- jealousy that a girl liked me and not him. He left.
A reached her arms out toward me, but more like she wanted to tell me goodbye and not like she wanted me to stay.
I said, "Weren't we planning to sleep here together? What's wrong? Do you not have enough pillows?"
A said, "No, no. I have a pillow." A was laying so her head was two feet from the end of the couch. She looked awkward and uncomfortable, under a scant blanket and on a thin pillow, while a lot of nice blankets and pillows were beside her and at the head of the couch.
Dream 3
(Not sure if this was a "dream.")
I lay in bed. Suddenly I was very relaxed. I "felt" a visual of my body as an aura pattern. But all the aura's gradations were shades of black. My body was like a funnel or tunnel moving in toward a deep black oval at my solar plexus.
A woman who was about seventy years old asked me questions I can't remember, specifically about my body. She may have asked me a question about my right arm, to which I responded, "I don't know. The colors all seem black to me." I was intrigued that an answer regarding the physical condition of my body was stated as regarding the color condition of my aura.
The woman now asked about the deepening of my aura at the solar plexus, how it was somehow troubled. This spot was key to my identity. The woman gave this spot the name Ren-O-Wen.
Dream 4
My mom had called to tell me that if I still needed XXXXX, she would come pick me up on Monday to go get it. XXXXX was something like pants or shirts. I told her okay. But then I realized I shouldn't do something silly like go shopping with my mom on a Monday. Everybody at work would laugh at me.
It was morning, maybe around 6:30 AM. I was in the desert, by a shopping center/strip mall before a sun-obscuring, shade-purple and pink mountain range. The air was slightly mist. I walked toward the mountains.
I was in XXXXX (as if "this" "Santa Fe" were south of Albuquerque). I had to get to Albuquerque to get what my mom wanted to buy me. (It was Saturday, so my mom wouldn't have to come down on Monday, after all.) But I realized Albuquerque was seventy miles up the road and over those huge mountains.
I sat on a wood post before the shopping center parking lot. Suddenly my mom drove up in a van with a man. She stopped. I got in. She told me she'd had a feeling I'd try to make it on my own. So she'd driven down here to pick me up today instead of Monday. I was relieved.
We drove to "my house." I was inside "my house" now, as if waiting for my mom to come pick me up, as if she hadn't just picked me up. I was on the phone with my boss BS's girlfriend. She complained about how BS spent too much time at work. Now BS and my mom drove up in the van to take me shopping.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)