(Entered in paper journal at 4 PM at Starbucks on Broadway and Liberty in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was on a floor, maybe the twelfth, of a tall building. I had been following a lady around, maybe to help her with something, possibly to apologize for something. I don't think she wanted me to follow her. We went past an elevator bank.
She disappeared. I went into one of the elevators, thinking she'd gone in there. I wanted to go down either to the tenth or eleventh floor. I knew I'd have to skip a floor to get there, but I didn't know if the elevator could go that far.
The elevator started going down before the doors closed. As it was only halfway down the floor it stopped, with the doors open, like the elevator car was just a shaft with a floor. A woman stood in the half-open door crack and looked down on me. She had stopped the car.
I worried that now I wouldn't get down on time. I did something and was going again. But now I was going down really fast and for a longer time than I thought I should have been going. There were windows and blinds in front of me. I pulled down one of the blinds to see that we were descending onto a "subway" platform.
When I pulled away from the blinds it was like I was sitting on a Metro North train. The train stopped. I got out. I may have been with woman.
I turned around. I "saw" that I had left some papers and books in my seat. I wanted to go back and get them. But the doors had closed.
I ran up to the front of the train, which was now a long limousine with black-tinted windows. I knocked on the glass. I knew that as the car hadn't stopped moving yet the driver would open the door, although he still might be rude and bullying and prevent me from getting my stuff.
Showing posts with label backpack. Show all posts
Showing posts with label backpack. Show all posts
Saturday, March 4, 2017
(8/21/05) violent hygiene
(Entered in paper journal at 9:30 AM at Ozzie's coffee shop on Garfield Street and 5th Avenue.)
Dream 1
It was a bright, hot day. I was in a desert landscape full of mounds, each of different materials. I may have been working with "my NYC Americorps crew."
Now I sat in something like a hospital waiting room and/or restaurant. I sat in a chair, but I think next to me was a pale green vinyl booth. It seems to have been smashed up against or into another booth or circle of wood chairs like mine. My coworker DO sat in the first booth.
My backpack, all dirty and dusty, lay by my chair, slumped into the other "booth." A Spanish family sat in that "booth." A really pretty girl sat in the chair where my backpack was slumping over. The girl was grossed out and scooted over a bit.
DO said something ilke, "That's not good hygiene, Preemie. Did you think a girl would want to sit by your backpack with all that salt-grime on it?"
I now remembered the mound I had been working on was of huge salt crystals. I thought, Well, maybe the girl should be turned on by the fact that I worked hard in a strange place like that. But I moved the backpack away and felt ashamed of my sloppiness.
I don't know what happened next. Then, for some reason, I and someone, maybe DO, were following someone, maybe a doctor (?), through the hallways of this place. Whereas the "waiting room/restaurant" had been cheerily enough lit with natural light, the hallways were dim.
We opened one door. A doctor stood somewhere, possibly unseen, like against the wall and to the left of a doorway. Also to the left of the doorway was a tall, shrubby plant with vines (?) growing out of it. A patient stood just in front of the doorway. Some of the flower-dotted vines crept over him. We had the door open only about halfway, the opening to the left, i.e.
The unseen doctor went on and on about not knowing exactly what species of plant this was.
The patient brushed the vines off and told the doctor, "I don't care what species the plant is. I didn't come here for that." I shut the door, feeling like by standing there I, too, was holding up the man from his purpose.
We walked to another room, which may not have had a door. The room was dimmer than the hallway. It was sort of long and wide. In the middle was something like a conveyor belt or really long examination table. All along it were small shrubs or trees with wide, fragrant, purple-red, heart-shaped leafs. A couple "doctors," male and female, were walking around the room, discussing things I couldn't understand.
My friend (now PD?) and I walked close to the plants. The smell overpowered me. Without thinking, I grabbed the leafs and shoved them in my mouth. The leafs were thick, as thick as five leafs stacked, and they tasted like sweet apples. I thought to myself, This is a redbud tree. Do all redbud trees have leafs like this? Am I supposed to be eating these leafs at all?
Suddenly I felt like an idiot in front of the scientists. With my mouth and hands full I ran out of the room in search either of a room with a plant that was definitely a redbud or else a place outside where I definitely knew a redbud had been planted. But I couldn't remember any place where I had seen a redbud.
I stood in a room, in front of a tree. But something distracting was happening, or maybe I didn't want to be "caught in the act" (i.e. I didn't want people to catch me acting weird with these leafs), and I couldn't focus effectively on examining the tree and seeing if it was a redbud and eating the leafs.
Now it was either late night or early morning. It may have been cool and drizzly. I was outside, in a residential neighborhood and between two tall, steep hills. My friend/coworker KA drove up and picked me up. As we drove the headlights made the drizzle look silvery.
KA said we had been planning to pick up my friend/coworker KB, but that KB had been late. I was spitefully glad we weren't picking up KB. I said something like, "It's unusual that she'd do something like this, but I don't think it's out of character."
KA looked at me suspiciously, as if wondering why I'd want to undermine things with KB. I myself wondered that. Now KA was blaming me for some mistake that had gotten us off track.
Now it was daytime. We were on some mountain/plain roadside, or perhaps just some grassy area with no road. The grass was fiery yellow, green, and orange, as if the grass were changing color, going dormant for the fall. Some other cars were parked here, kind of widely spaced. We two were here to work.
We walked up to KA's car, toward a tall, black man with dreads. The man stared at me. When I got up to him, he pulled something out of his pocket like it was a switchblade and then shoved it toward me and shouted out a "boom!" at me. I flinched. Then I looked down and saw the object was just a straw. The man laughed, self-satisfied that he had scared me.
Everything seems reversed now. Instead of walking
I walked like this.
But now I turned around to face the man again. I was a little afraid. But when I got up to him I mock-congratulated him for scaring me. Then I laughed and laughed in his face. I wasn't afraid now. I wanted to beat the shit out of this guy.
The man walked away slowly, trying to act like he wasn't threatened. But I didn't want him to walk away. I called him back, telling him he was the real coward if he wouldn't fight me, and that only cowards scare people for no reason, anyway.
Now he was running down some hill of grass and pine trees. I ran after him.
It was night. Somebody sat on the slope. I thought it was the man. I ran up, yelling that now he was going to face me once and for all. I grabbed the person's shoulder. The person turned around. She was an older woman. She looked at me pathetically. I felt bad and tried to explain myself.
But now I was walking into a tightly spaced cafe. The place was all dark, heavy, rough wood. There was plenty of natural light, but the darkness of the wood still gave the place a classy kind of dimness. The place was like a corner or "L," with a round column on the inner corner,
and two tables very close to the column and each other.
I sat at a table with a "woman" I didn't pay much attention to, and my coworker SC, who was reading the paper. In the other table was some 19th century-style man with a round face, a bowler hat, and a puny mustache.
SC spoke with the "woman" about the article he'd just read. he said something like, "I could belive that they're all related. It doesn't seem strange to me."
Now the "woman" spoke in a gaudy, deep voice. I realized the "woman" was a transsexual. I was disappointed. I looked at the "woman." She looked terribly mannish. I wanted to ignore her completely, but the way the man at the other table scrutinized me made me feel bad. I spoke directly to SC.
I looked at the article. Apparently the article claimed that six children had been conceived by an alien and born of an earthling woman. There were six photos, and the children all had a Nosferatu-like look, though some children had a bit bigger eyes or more robust bone structure.
Dream 1
It was a bright, hot day. I was in a desert landscape full of mounds, each of different materials. I may have been working with "my NYC Americorps crew."
Now I sat in something like a hospital waiting room and/or restaurant. I sat in a chair, but I think next to me was a pale green vinyl booth. It seems to have been smashed up against or into another booth or circle of wood chairs like mine. My coworker DO sat in the first booth.
My backpack, all dirty and dusty, lay by my chair, slumped into the other "booth." A Spanish family sat in that "booth." A really pretty girl sat in the chair where my backpack was slumping over. The girl was grossed out and scooted over a bit.
DO said something ilke, "That's not good hygiene, Preemie. Did you think a girl would want to sit by your backpack with all that salt-grime on it?"
I now remembered the mound I had been working on was of huge salt crystals. I thought, Well, maybe the girl should be turned on by the fact that I worked hard in a strange place like that. But I moved the backpack away and felt ashamed of my sloppiness.
I don't know what happened next. Then, for some reason, I and someone, maybe DO, were following someone, maybe a doctor (?), through the hallways of this place. Whereas the "waiting room/restaurant" had been cheerily enough lit with natural light, the hallways were dim.
We opened one door. A doctor stood somewhere, possibly unseen, like against the wall and to the left of a doorway. Also to the left of the doorway was a tall, shrubby plant with vines (?) growing out of it. A patient stood just in front of the doorway. Some of the flower-dotted vines crept over him. We had the door open only about halfway, the opening to the left, i.e.
The unseen doctor went on and on about not knowing exactly what species of plant this was.
The patient brushed the vines off and told the doctor, "I don't care what species the plant is. I didn't come here for that." I shut the door, feeling like by standing there I, too, was holding up the man from his purpose.
We walked to another room, which may not have had a door. The room was dimmer than the hallway. It was sort of long and wide. In the middle was something like a conveyor belt or really long examination table. All along it were small shrubs or trees with wide, fragrant, purple-red, heart-shaped leafs. A couple "doctors," male and female, were walking around the room, discussing things I couldn't understand.
My friend (now PD?) and I walked close to the plants. The smell overpowered me. Without thinking, I grabbed the leafs and shoved them in my mouth. The leafs were thick, as thick as five leafs stacked, and they tasted like sweet apples. I thought to myself, This is a redbud tree. Do all redbud trees have leafs like this? Am I supposed to be eating these leafs at all?
Suddenly I felt like an idiot in front of the scientists. With my mouth and hands full I ran out of the room in search either of a room with a plant that was definitely a redbud or else a place outside where I definitely knew a redbud had been planted. But I couldn't remember any place where I had seen a redbud.
I stood in a room, in front of a tree. But something distracting was happening, or maybe I didn't want to be "caught in the act" (i.e. I didn't want people to catch me acting weird with these leafs), and I couldn't focus effectively on examining the tree and seeing if it was a redbud and eating the leafs.
Now it was either late night or early morning. It may have been cool and drizzly. I was outside, in a residential neighborhood and between two tall, steep hills. My friend/coworker KA drove up and picked me up. As we drove the headlights made the drizzle look silvery.
KA said we had been planning to pick up my friend/coworker KB, but that KB had been late. I was spitefully glad we weren't picking up KB. I said something like, "It's unusual that she'd do something like this, but I don't think it's out of character."
KA looked at me suspiciously, as if wondering why I'd want to undermine things with KB. I myself wondered that. Now KA was blaming me for some mistake that had gotten us off track.
Now it was daytime. We were on some mountain/plain roadside, or perhaps just some grassy area with no road. The grass was fiery yellow, green, and orange, as if the grass were changing color, going dormant for the fall. Some other cars were parked here, kind of widely spaced. We two were here to work.
We walked up to KA's car, toward a tall, black man with dreads. The man stared at me. When I got up to him, he pulled something out of his pocket like it was a switchblade and then shoved it toward me and shouted out a "boom!" at me. I flinched. Then I looked down and saw the object was just a straw. The man laughed, self-satisfied that he had scared me.
Everything seems reversed now. Instead of walking
I walked like this.
But now I turned around to face the man again. I was a little afraid. But when I got up to him I mock-congratulated him for scaring me. Then I laughed and laughed in his face. I wasn't afraid now. I wanted to beat the shit out of this guy.
The man walked away slowly, trying to act like he wasn't threatened. But I didn't want him to walk away. I called him back, telling him he was the real coward if he wouldn't fight me, and that only cowards scare people for no reason, anyway.
Now he was running down some hill of grass and pine trees. I ran after him.
It was night. Somebody sat on the slope. I thought it was the man. I ran up, yelling that now he was going to face me once and for all. I grabbed the person's shoulder. The person turned around. She was an older woman. She looked at me pathetically. I felt bad and tried to explain myself.
But now I was walking into a tightly spaced cafe. The place was all dark, heavy, rough wood. There was plenty of natural light, but the darkness of the wood still gave the place a classy kind of dimness. The place was like a corner or "L," with a round column on the inner corner,
and two tables very close to the column and each other.
I sat at a table with a "woman" I didn't pay much attention to, and my coworker SC, who was reading the paper. In the other table was some 19th century-style man with a round face, a bowler hat, and a puny mustache.
SC spoke with the "woman" about the article he'd just read. he said something like, "I could belive that they're all related. It doesn't seem strange to me."
Now the "woman" spoke in a gaudy, deep voice. I realized the "woman" was a transsexual. I was disappointed. I looked at the "woman." She looked terribly mannish. I wanted to ignore her completely, but the way the man at the other table scrutinized me made me feel bad. I spoke directly to SC.
I looked at the article. Apparently the article claimed that six children had been conceived by an alien and born of an earthling woman. There were six photos, and the children all had a Nosferatu-like look, though some children had a bit bigger eyes or more robust bone structure.
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
(10/4/05) drunken fire alarm; office boat
(Entered in paper journal at 6:35 AM at my friend R's house in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I had caused a panic in a building by pulling a fire alarm in the basement. Everybody was evacuating. Somehow what I did, even though I meant mischief, was good. I didn't realize this because I was drunk.
A friend guided me down the stairs. He was on my left. We walked clockwise. He was trying to comfort me. He thought I was ashamed of what I had done. But I was actually only ashamed of being so drunk that I couldn't catch anything that was going on around me quickly enough.
Dream 2
I was on a boat, in some office cabin. I had been asked to meet with two women, apparently famous women, on shore. This meant I had to take a small boat away from the ship. I may have done this.
Now we were all in a downstairs cabin that was like a trashy studio apartment. I was asked to place people's backpacks on a part of the floor where there was a puddle. Nobody saw the puddle, and I didn't say anything about it.
I moved a cooler over on top of the puddle and put two small backpacks on top of it. But my backpack was too big to fit neatly. I couldn't figure out what to do with it. I didn't want to sit it on the puddle.
Another person came in and shifted the water cooler so that it was now totally over the puddle and where the puddle might seep. Then they sat my backpack on the dry area of the floor. I felt stupid for not figuring this out myself.
I now sat back up in the office. A person was asking me to get ready to welcome another famous woman. They said nobody else could do it. i thought it would be a bother to have to head out on the boat again. But it turned out I didn't have to. We were meeting the famous woman where we were docking.
Dream 1
I had caused a panic in a building by pulling a fire alarm in the basement. Everybody was evacuating. Somehow what I did, even though I meant mischief, was good. I didn't realize this because I was drunk.
A friend guided me down the stairs. He was on my left. We walked clockwise. He was trying to comfort me. He thought I was ashamed of what I had done. But I was actually only ashamed of being so drunk that I couldn't catch anything that was going on around me quickly enough.
Dream 2
I was on a boat, in some office cabin. I had been asked to meet with two women, apparently famous women, on shore. This meant I had to take a small boat away from the ship. I may have done this.
Now we were all in a downstairs cabin that was like a trashy studio apartment. I was asked to place people's backpacks on a part of the floor where there was a puddle. Nobody saw the puddle, and I didn't say anything about it.
I moved a cooler over on top of the puddle and put two small backpacks on top of it. But my backpack was too big to fit neatly. I couldn't figure out what to do with it. I didn't want to sit it on the puddle.
Another person came in and shifted the water cooler so that it was now totally over the puddle and where the puddle might seep. Then they sat my backpack on the dry area of the floor. I felt stupid for not figuring this out myself.
I now sat back up in the office. A person was asking me to get ready to welcome another famous woman. They said nobody else could do it. i thought it would be a bother to have to head out on the boat again. But it turned out I didn't have to. We were meeting the famous woman where we were docking.
Sunday, February 19, 2017
(2/14/06) slovenly research
(Entered in paper journal at 6:01 PM at Starbucks on Astor Place in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was in a room (maybe a cabin) that was my job. I knelt beside a middle-aged man who was a coworker and was getting ready to leave, either for the day or for good. He had a backpack. He pulled our company's investment research books out of the (my?) backpack. There was a stack of them, and they were all thick. I don't remember whether they were to be read or had already been read.
Now my boss was in. We were in another room, something like a double-wide trailer. The man told me, "You'll have to get used to me working a lot of different ways. I almost always work with my shoes off."
I only slightly realized my boss meant to be demeaning. I told him, "It doesn't bother me. Shoes aren't really necessary, are they?" Then I fully realized that my boss meant to offend me by showing me how he could and would disregard me by being slovenly while I was around.
Dream 1
I was in a room (maybe a cabin) that was my job. I knelt beside a middle-aged man who was a coworker and was getting ready to leave, either for the day or for good. He had a backpack. He pulled our company's investment research books out of the (my?) backpack. There was a stack of them, and they were all thick. I don't remember whether they were to be read or had already been read.
Now my boss was in. We were in another room, something like a double-wide trailer. The man told me, "You'll have to get used to me working a lot of different ways. I almost always work with my shoes off."
I only slightly realized my boss meant to be demeaning. I told him, "It doesn't bother me. Shoes aren't really necessary, are they?" Then I fully realized that my boss meant to offend me by showing me how he could and would disregard me by being slovenly while I was around.
Sunday, February 12, 2017
(7/4/06) the stream test; being part of the hill; my brother wrecks house; suspicion in the video store
(Entered into paper journal at 9:02 AM at Starbucks on 17th Street and Broadway in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I was in a stream with a boy and a girl. I was someone like Carlos Castaneda, and this stream was a new test for me. I was eager, excited. But the kids were indifferent.
I stood in the water so it came up near my solar plexus. I looked down to the bed of the clear stream. The bed had a floor of tan and coppery, smooth cobblestones.
I looked back up. Huge waves heaved toward me. They were deep blue like the sea. As the flooded over me I felt some kind of intense magic. I had to battle to absorb it to stay conscious.
But to my left the little girl was standing or treading water as if nothing were happening. And the little boy was scuttering around to my right, near the bed of the stream, which now looked like an Islamic tile floor, and wearing big, clunky, eyes-and-nose swimming goggles and having fun. I felt stupid for thinking my experience had been intense at all.
Dream 2
I was running up a hill in a park. The hill was all lush, beautiful lawn, lit by powerful, white lights so that the atmosphere was dim and the vibrant lawn had a crystalline, undersea look.
I headed toward a log cabin on the hill to get something for a group of friends below. I felt some person below judging me for having been running up and down the hill all day when there were easier ways to do things.
I was a pretty girl. I thought, But I like running up the hill. I like the exertion. Plus, I like being part of the hill. It's beautiful.
Dream 3
I was (possibly) watching an apartment for a woman like my landlady. My brother came in. I told him he could stay, but that he had to treat this place with respect. My brother started bashing all over, making tons of noise.
Suddenly the place was full of noise. The TV was blasting. There were pots boiling full blast in the closet-sized kitchen. And my brother was taunting me about all the noise he could make.
I said, "I'm just giving you a couple more chances to calm down."
My brother went into the bathroom and broke the handle off the sliding door of the shower. He brought it out to show me how he didn't care what I told him, and how he would do whatever he wanted.
I went to the store and pulled out a blue business card from under a gross, damp pile of dish rags. My landlady's phone number was on the top line of the card. Then, written in blue ink on lines below, were three other numbers, one of which was for the police.
I called one of the numbers. Now my brother had to leave, or these people would come for him. I felt bad for rejecting my brother. But he'd already broken one thing in my house.
My brother was now standing on the couch in the living room. He said, "Okay, okay. I'm going before they get here. But just look at this before I go."
A movie was playing on the TV: some comedy starring Owen Wilson. But this particular scene was of a forest. A huge, dull-yellow turtle with brown-black spots walked between pine trees. Now an enormous snake was somewhere.
Dream 4
I went into a video store at night. There were almost no lights on in the store. I went to the back of the store and found something I liked.
I went to the cashier. The cashier yelled at me, "What do you have in your backpack?"
I, without taking off my backpack, showed the cashier I hadn't stolen anything from the store. The cashier was satisfied. But he still didn't like me. Either he threw his arms up in the air or he made me throw my arms in the air. A white bracelet of a loose, rubbery material fell down one of our arms.
The man said, "Next time you come in here, you get one of these," (the bracelet) "which means you leave your backpack right here until you leave the store!"
I thought, Great. Now I can't even bring my backpack into the video store. I noticed the man now. He was short, a little fat, with long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had a beard that was reddish brown with grey undertones. He was angry-looking but also small and lazy and weak-looking. I thought, Well, this guy is a lot like me!
Dream 1
I was in a stream with a boy and a girl. I was someone like Carlos Castaneda, and this stream was a new test for me. I was eager, excited. But the kids were indifferent.
I stood in the water so it came up near my solar plexus. I looked down to the bed of the clear stream. The bed had a floor of tan and coppery, smooth cobblestones.
I looked back up. Huge waves heaved toward me. They were deep blue like the sea. As the flooded over me I felt some kind of intense magic. I had to battle to absorb it to stay conscious.
But to my left the little girl was standing or treading water as if nothing were happening. And the little boy was scuttering around to my right, near the bed of the stream, which now looked like an Islamic tile floor, and wearing big, clunky, eyes-and-nose swimming goggles and having fun. I felt stupid for thinking my experience had been intense at all.
Dream 2
I was running up a hill in a park. The hill was all lush, beautiful lawn, lit by powerful, white lights so that the atmosphere was dim and the vibrant lawn had a crystalline, undersea look.
I headed toward a log cabin on the hill to get something for a group of friends below. I felt some person below judging me for having been running up and down the hill all day when there were easier ways to do things.
I was a pretty girl. I thought, But I like running up the hill. I like the exertion. Plus, I like being part of the hill. It's beautiful.
Dream 3
I was (possibly) watching an apartment for a woman like my landlady. My brother came in. I told him he could stay, but that he had to treat this place with respect. My brother started bashing all over, making tons of noise.
Suddenly the place was full of noise. The TV was blasting. There were pots boiling full blast in the closet-sized kitchen. And my brother was taunting me about all the noise he could make.
I said, "I'm just giving you a couple more chances to calm down."
My brother went into the bathroom and broke the handle off the sliding door of the shower. He brought it out to show me how he didn't care what I told him, and how he would do whatever he wanted.
I went to the store and pulled out a blue business card from under a gross, damp pile of dish rags. My landlady's phone number was on the top line of the card. Then, written in blue ink on lines below, were three other numbers, one of which was for the police.
I called one of the numbers. Now my brother had to leave, or these people would come for him. I felt bad for rejecting my brother. But he'd already broken one thing in my house.
My brother was now standing on the couch in the living room. He said, "Okay, okay. I'm going before they get here. But just look at this before I go."
A movie was playing on the TV: some comedy starring Owen Wilson. But this particular scene was of a forest. A huge, dull-yellow turtle with brown-black spots walked between pine trees. Now an enormous snake was somewhere.
Dream 4
I went into a video store at night. There were almost no lights on in the store. I went to the back of the store and found something I liked.
I went to the cashier. The cashier yelled at me, "What do you have in your backpack?"
I, without taking off my backpack, showed the cashier I hadn't stolen anything from the store. The cashier was satisfied. But he still didn't like me. Either he threw his arms up in the air or he made me throw my arms in the air. A white bracelet of a loose, rubbery material fell down one of our arms.
The man said, "Next time you come in here, you get one of these," (the bracelet) "which means you leave your backpack right here until you leave the store!"
I thought, Great. Now I can't even bring my backpack into the video store. I noticed the man now. He was short, a little fat, with long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had a beard that was reddish brown with grey undertones. He was angry-looking but also small and lazy and weak-looking. I thought, Well, this guy is a lot like me!
Sunday, February 5, 2017
(10/10/06) museum & backpack; dropping my dream journal
(Entered in paper journal at 12:20 AM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was waiting for some kind of solar planetarium show to begin. I stood in a big lobby -- glass walls, grey day -- chocolate/maroon bricks. I saw there was a lot of time before the show. I would eat at a McDonald's and then walk through the museum.
I walked into a room that somehow resembled a huge sauna. In one corner, very far left (i.e. 10 PM on the direction clock) I saw a bearded fellow who was "Stephen King." I looked again at my cell phone watch. I had less time than I had thought. I would only eat/walk through the museum and would save walking/eating for after the show.
The lobby had been crowded before. Now it was somewhat empty. I walked up the staircase and into other parts of the building, then across a bridge to the other building. I barely saw most of it. It was darker inside -- something like a space exploration section of the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum.
Before I headed in I realized I had left my backpack with security in the first building. A security woman by the door told me not to worry -- that bags were transferred to this building once visitors switched over to it.
Dream 2
I came to a wide complex of staircases before a building. It turned into something like the seating area in an auditorium.
A lot of black people milled around, looking mischievous. I waited until some of them sat down. One guy in particular sat in a couch-like structure and sucked on a 32-ounce cola. By him was a downward staircase.
I tried to stay unseen or unnoticed. I got to the staircase and fumbled my dream journal. It fell down the steps -- where I was going anyway. So I didn't do anything odd to pick it up. but on the lower floor I kicked it along, and it accidentally fell down the next staircase as a group of mean black kids was watching. (It was much darker in this level -- a lot of cold steel.) I was going down, anyway. So I didn't worry.
Down on the lowest level, which was very dark, there were interesting undulations in the floor. At the bottom of the staircase a woman was crowding the way. I gently brushed past her but felt guilty for doing so. I saw my dream journal and tried to kick it to a point where the woman would not see me lifting it up.
Dream 1
I was waiting for some kind of solar planetarium show to begin. I stood in a big lobby -- glass walls, grey day -- chocolate/maroon bricks. I saw there was a lot of time before the show. I would eat at a McDonald's and then walk through the museum.
I walked into a room that somehow resembled a huge sauna. In one corner, very far left (i.e. 10 PM on the direction clock) I saw a bearded fellow who was "Stephen King." I looked again at my cell phone watch. I had less time than I had thought. I would only eat/walk through the museum and would save walking/eating for after the show.
The lobby had been crowded before. Now it was somewhat empty. I walked up the staircase and into other parts of the building, then across a bridge to the other building. I barely saw most of it. It was darker inside -- something like a space exploration section of the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum.
Before I headed in I realized I had left my backpack with security in the first building. A security woman by the door told me not to worry -- that bags were transferred to this building once visitors switched over to it.
Dream 2
I came to a wide complex of staircases before a building. It turned into something like the seating area in an auditorium.
A lot of black people milled around, looking mischievous. I waited until some of them sat down. One guy in particular sat in a couch-like structure and sucked on a 32-ounce cola. By him was a downward staircase.
I tried to stay unseen or unnoticed. I got to the staircase and fumbled my dream journal. It fell down the steps -- where I was going anyway. So I didn't do anything odd to pick it up. but on the lower floor I kicked it along, and it accidentally fell down the next staircase as a group of mean black kids was watching. (It was much darker in this level -- a lot of cold steel.) I was going down, anyway. So I didn't worry.
Down on the lowest level, which was very dark, there were interesting undulations in the floor. At the bottom of the staircase a woman was crowding the way. I gently brushed past her but felt guilty for doing so. I saw my dream journal and tried to kick it to a point where the woman would not see me lifting it up.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
(1/1/08) garbage pack
(Entered in paper journal at 2:20 PM on the 1-train in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I walked down a city street at night. Lights like incandescent lights shone on the street. The area looked a little rundown. Two men, each with a child, stood on a sidewalk. They stood by a garbage truck, which also looked rundown, like paint was chipping off of it. One man was black, with long hair in dreads. The other was white, looking perhaps upper-middle-class.
I walked through the garbage cans. The black man's child (white or Asian?) looked at me as if he wanted to ask me questions. The man pulled him away and yelled at the child not to talk to scummy people like me. I hadn't intended to stop to talk to the boy. I continued walking.
I walked past the second man and child. I was wearing a big backpack or carrying a big, rolling suitcase. The child (white, blonde, with blue eyes and glasses) asked me why I had such a big backpack.
I saw the kid was wearing a red (?) backpack that was almost as tall as he. I said, "Well, why do you wear your backpack?"
The boy said, "To go to school with."
I said, "Well, I carry my backpack for a similar reason."
Dream #1
I walked down a city street at night. Lights like incandescent lights shone on the street. The area looked a little rundown. Two men, each with a child, stood on a sidewalk. They stood by a garbage truck, which also looked rundown, like paint was chipping off of it. One man was black, with long hair in dreads. The other was white, looking perhaps upper-middle-class.
I walked through the garbage cans. The black man's child (white or Asian?) looked at me as if he wanted to ask me questions. The man pulled him away and yelled at the child not to talk to scummy people like me. I hadn't intended to stop to talk to the boy. I continued walking.
I walked past the second man and child. I was wearing a big backpack or carrying a big, rolling suitcase. The child (white, blonde, with blue eyes and glasses) asked me why I had such a big backpack.
I saw the kid was wearing a red (?) backpack that was almost as tall as he. I said, "Well, why do you wear your backpack?"
The boy said, "To go to school with."
I said, "Well, I carry my backpack for a similar reason."
Sunday, November 25, 2012
(4/4/09) empty psychiatric office; mae marsh in color and sound
(Entered in paper journal at 8:21 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I walked up an outside stairwell for a small apartment complex in a lonely, dirt parking lot. It was a sunny day. The complex had white siding in horizontal strips. The stairwell was white.
I walked into an apartment on the second floor. The first room was like a kitchen, though it didn't have much in it besides a counter. The floors and walls were white. They looked yellow in the sunlight. I may have seen "my backpack" somewhere.
I walked through a doorway to my left, into a room like a psychiatrist's visiting room, which was, like the kitchen, empty. The carpet was darkish blue and looked unkempt, worn down.
I was here to meet my psychiatrist A. But she wasn't here. I then remembered I was supposed to meet her here at 3:15 PM instead of our usual, later, time. I walked back into the kitchen and saw that A had left something like a business card that was also a letter.
The letter explained that A had left when she hadn't seen me. She'd had to leave. The letter also said something about my backpack, which I'd left here for some reason, like safety. The letter asked me to take my backpack home.
Dream #2
I was watching a "D.W. Griffith movie." One of Griffith's key actresses, possibly Mae Marsh, was walking through a long promenade and plaza, and also possibly along some beautiful, farm-like countryside full of floers. The sun took all different levels in the sky.
The film was in color, which surprised me. The color was realistic, but it felt applied, not colorized, but something more like an extreme version of a William Eggleston photo. It was all very beautiful, and Mae Marsh looked beautiful in color.
Mae Marsh was walking past something like covered booth-tables along the garden plaza. The booths seemed to be set into the stone of a cliff or hillside. Their tops would be exposed, but they were covered over with something like wicker mats. The light was the deep blue of evening. All the booths were candlelit, lighting Mae Marsh's face as she walked past them. Mae Marsh now had curly, black hair and a tan robe. She may also have carried a dark shawl with her.
Now the film took on sound. Mae Marsh's voice was lowish, musical, but slack, like Chloe Sevigny's voice. I thought of how many actors lost their careers when films began being produced in sound, because of their voices. I hoped that Mae Marsh's career hadn't been ruined. I didn't think her voice was spectacular, but I also didn't think it was awful.
Dream #1
I walked up an outside stairwell for a small apartment complex in a lonely, dirt parking lot. It was a sunny day. The complex had white siding in horizontal strips. The stairwell was white.
I walked into an apartment on the second floor. The first room was like a kitchen, though it didn't have much in it besides a counter. The floors and walls were white. They looked yellow in the sunlight. I may have seen "my backpack" somewhere.
I walked through a doorway to my left, into a room like a psychiatrist's visiting room, which was, like the kitchen, empty. The carpet was darkish blue and looked unkempt, worn down.
I was here to meet my psychiatrist A. But she wasn't here. I then remembered I was supposed to meet her here at 3:15 PM instead of our usual, later, time. I walked back into the kitchen and saw that A had left something like a business card that was also a letter.
The letter explained that A had left when she hadn't seen me. She'd had to leave. The letter also said something about my backpack, which I'd left here for some reason, like safety. The letter asked me to take my backpack home.
Dream #2
I was watching a "D.W. Griffith movie." One of Griffith's key actresses, possibly Mae Marsh, was walking through a long promenade and plaza, and also possibly along some beautiful, farm-like countryside full of floers. The sun took all different levels in the sky.
The film was in color, which surprised me. The color was realistic, but it felt applied, not colorized, but something more like an extreme version of a William Eggleston photo. It was all very beautiful, and Mae Marsh looked beautiful in color.
Mae Marsh was walking past something like covered booth-tables along the garden plaza. The booths seemed to be set into the stone of a cliff or hillside. Their tops would be exposed, but they were covered over with something like wicker mats. The light was the deep blue of evening. All the booths were candlelit, lighting Mae Marsh's face as she walked past them. Mae Marsh now had curly, black hair and a tan robe. She may also have carried a dark shawl with her.
Now the film took on sound. Mae Marsh's voice was lowish, musical, but slack, like Chloe Sevigny's voice. I thought of how many actors lost their careers when films began being produced in sound, because of their voices. I hoped that Mae Marsh's career hadn't been ruined. I didn't think her voice was spectacular, but I also didn't think it was awful.
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