(4/14/06) brokeback basketball

(Entered in paper journal at 9:35 AM at Starbucks on Astor Place.)

Dream 1

I walked through a movie theater lobby (like the Wirock in Albuquerque) and to a theater with an open door. I was afraid to go inside: I saw so many families, especially children. I wanted to see this movie. But I didn't want to be thought of as a kid. I also didn't want to be thought of as some kind of pervert that hangs around kids.

Now I was watching a film like Brokeback Mountain, except that the ranchers were now gold miners. The Heath Ledger charcter just kept going on and on about gold, about some mine that had a vein of gold that if he could just get funding for it, would just produce and produce.

As the speech progressed, I melded into the man, and the mountain scene faded into a location like a bus stop near a set of apartments I'd lived in in my last year of college. I sat on the right end of the bench, with a female coworker to my left and a male coworker to her left.

I finished up the speech and kind of broke myself out of my daze or spell to discover where I was. I heard my two coworkers laughing about a third coworker.

The coworker had participated in a basketball game with some other workers. He had come back to work telling people about it -- or else my coworkers were talking about how he would come back to work talking about it.

My coworkers knew the third coworker wasn't any good at basketball but that he had bragged (or would brag) about how well he had done. The coworkers started laughing and saying the things he had said or would say.

It actually sounded like the third coworker was right there, joking about himself. There were two statements that were made that sounded like business quotes, like "I really helped drive our earnings growth," and "The team says I had good synergistic strategies."

I was laughing so hard imagining this guy saying all this stuff that I was almost doubled over. I now realized there was a black iron lamppost to my right.

(5/12/09) goodhearted envious pervert

(Entered in paper journal at 6:50 AM at home.)

Dream #1

I was at R and L's apartment. It was night, and all the lights except a dim night light were shut off. The apartment was a long, railroad-style apartment. It felt a little cluttered, possibly like clothes or some kind of fabric, or even wads of cotton-like material, lay all over.

I was here to watch R's dog. I hadn't been asked to feed the dog; I just wanted to, because I liked the dog, and I liked to do things for it. But I didn't want to feed the dog while R and L were around. I didn't want them to see me and think I wanted them back in my life.

I walked out of the apartment before feeding the dog. I felt like I was getting too close to the time when R and L would be coming back home. I thought it would be better to leave instead of being caught feeding the dog.

I stood out in the corridor, which was like a wide balcony from which came down a few stairways, or even ramps. The balcony turned at a right angle to my right and ran in front of a couple other apartment entrances. The whole area was wide and airy, with white walls but a somewhat plain and unkempt feeling.

But now I thought it would be better to be brave and risk being caught if it meant I could do something nice for the dog, like feed it, one more time. I went back inside. I don't think I even physically fed the dog. Instead I walked back through the darkness and found myself at the end of the apartment, in a lit kitchen. The kitchen was very plain and was lit either with a colorless incandescent bulb or a fluorescent bulb.

I found a door, which I opened. This door led to the back exit of the apartment. I looked down a drab, fluorescent-lit stairwell that looked like a fire-exit stairwell. I thought, Now I could escape this way, so that even if I leave right when R and L come home, they'll never come across me.

But I again thought, Why be so timid? If R and L are going to see you, they're going to see you. Why try to find all these ways around it?

I exited through the front. I thought, Well, nobody's going to see me after all. But then I heard L walking up the stairs. I started walking down the stairs. I met L. I told her what I'd been doing. L told me something about a party she and R were having, as if to scold me for having come too early for the party.

We were now downstairs, in some lobby area set up for gatherings. The floor was sunk in in a pentagonal (?) shape, stepping down to make a wide, couch-like pit. Around us was an odd-shaped room with white (stucco-paint-style, really bumpy?) walls and a pale incandescent light. The place felt very much like a living room from the 1970s.

We were among a few friends. There were a couple random things to eat and drink. Nobody sat or stood very comfortably, though everybody seemed to be relaxed. I sat on the floor. R sat near me somewhere. L sat behind me on a couch.

Now R and L were bragging, to annoy everybody, about their child, a boy, who did incredible things and for whom R and L did incredible things.

I saw R and L's boy, though he was slightly obscured from my view by a person sitting to my right. The boy lay on his back on an animal-skin rug, with his legs crossed. The boy was about seven or eight years old, fair-skinned, but slightly tanned, with blue eyes and sandy blonde hair in a loose bowl-cut style.

The boy had a long cylinder pressed to his lips. He blew on it and fingered it like a flute. (This whole image struck me, upon waking, as being like an image of Kokopelli.) I tried to see what the boy's instrument really was.

I stood and got a closer view of the boy as L continued bragging, now bragging about how she (or she and R?) made the instrument themselves. I was struck with a twinge of jealousy because the instrument was so well-made.

The instrument was a very long cylinder, soft, so its walls didn't hold up, woven of a soft, leather-like material. The instrument was blue. But as time went on it became yellow. It may have been fringed at the edges, like a Southwestern-style beaded change purse or pair of moccasins. It was remarkably large and well-woven.

L spoke about how she and R made the thing so they could pipe it out a window on one floor and into a window on the floor below. I knew that even now this instrument was piped out a window. I also knew that a music lesson for this instrument was apparently the most fashionable kind of music lesson a child could receive these days.

I stood on my head on the couch L sat on. I was facing L. I was wearing, under my jeans, a pair of yellow, cotton (?) panties. I had ejaculated in the panties. I could feel the wet semen on my lower abdomen. I thought I should stand or sit regularly before all the semen dribbled up my stomach, above the waistline of my pants. If everybody saw the semen leaking out of my pants they'd surely think I was a pervert.

I saw L's older sister. I may have been sistting upright now. I asked L's sister how she'd been. She answered that she'd been doing fine.