(8/23/05) panty crash

(Entered in paper journal at 6 PM at the Tea Lounge at Union Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

It was a young, golden day. I was on a plane that may have been a commercial spaceship. I sat by an Asian woman. The ship was having some trouble getting off the ground. I felt a little bit like there was something wrong with the plane and that we'd have to get off. But I started talking with the Asian woman and felt a lot less nervous.

The plane took off, apparently from LaGuardia Airport. It was like a looked through the pilot's windshield. We sped along a runway between structures like interconnected airport parking lots. We went real fast under one bridge and then lifted off and flew over a bridge.

As we flew over the bridge I told the Asian woman, "Now I remember! This is the bridge my crew chief SM always drives by when the planes fly over really low! I need to see if we can see SM from here!" I looked around frantically but was only getting partial views.

We flew over the top of an enormous, almost leafless birch (?) tree that looked like a cypress.

I said, "I guess we're getting too far up now." (I.e. for me to see SM.)

I could feel the drag of the plane as we ascended, pulling my arms and guts. I was getting excited. But now -- we were already really high -- the planed stopped running. We plummeted immediately.

I only had a couple of seconds, as if my will controlled the plane, to pull the plane back up. But I failed. I knew the plane would crash. But I wasn't afraid. I was frustrated at failing, like I would be frustrated in a lucid dream.

The plane hit the ground nose-first, then bounced,

landing on its back.

It was now like the plane had no nice upholstering or decoration -- it was like a hollowed-out, steel-bodied freight plane with seats and a very low roof, on which I lay, stomach down.

In a very minor, peripheral manner, as if a second part of me in a second, analogous, possibly nonexistent world, were doing it, I was rescuing people who were still in the plane -- people who were knocked out or still seat belted in -- before the plane blew up. I could feel the danger of explosion in the "first world," the "main world" of my perception.

But in the "first world," despite the feeling of danger, I was actually scavenging about in all the seats, which reached all the way down to the roof. Brightly colored panties were all piled up around the seats. I was taking all the panties back to the back (?) of the plane, where there were no seats and the plane seems to have been right side up. I was collecting all the panties because, apparently, they were mine. I didn't want the firemen who would come in and stop the blaze after the plane exploded and caught on fire to see all the panties and laugh at me.

(10/28/07) sprung springs; death of a jumpsuit kitty

(Entered in paper journal at 9:25 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I woke up in the dark. I rolled over in my bed. I knocked against metal wire which stuck out of my mattress. I got panicked and lifted up my head to look at the wire. the wire was like repeated s-shapes, thin, sticking out of the bed in two spans at 45-degree angles from the mattress.

I thought springs must have broken in my mattress. I was afraid that without my having been aware of it, another spring had pierced through my midsection or skull and that I would die as soon as I discovered it.

Dream #2

I woke up in the dark. I lay on the top bunk of a bunk bed. To my left, on the wall along the bed's left side, was a window. Trees in close, tangled growth were lit (by a building wall-light?) so I could see them pretty well. There was a lot of tangled vegetation but not a lot of foliage. One leaf I saw was big and rough-green with crinkly, brown edges. It had the shapes of a maple leaf and a tuliptree leaf mixed together, but it was probably about twelve inches long.

I called the leaf a sycamore maple leaf. But when I looked at the tree trunk nearest me, it was much smoother than that of a sycamore maple would be. I thought, Well, is it a silver maple? But there were cherry-like striations on the bark. I thought, Is it a birch tree?

I then figured that the leaf I saw clearly was from one of the tree trunks behind this front one. I looked higher up the trunk to see if I could spot any leafs. In tangled, brownish vegetation I saw yellow and brown leafs shaped like elm leafs and lit from above by a wall-light so their colors glowed softly.

I felt an animal stirring around my head. At first I thought it was a rat. I panicked and almost rolled out of bed. I thought, You can't flinch like that! You'll fall out of bed and hurt yourself!

I looked at the animal. It was a cat that lived in this house. I loved it and was happy to see it. It was daylight now. I sat up on the bed, playing a little with the cat.

There were a couple cat care magazines on the bed (which was full of different sheets and blankets). The magazines were different issues of the same magazine, but at some point the magazine had changed its title. The issue with the changed title was the first issue I had seen with the changed title. I can't remember the original title. The changed title was Fandango's Pop.

There was now also a little, grey kitten, almost just born, in a little, blue jumpsuit or covered in a blue blanket. Both cats were just lying near me.

I flipped an outside advertisement flap on the new magazine to see the actual front cover. There was some photo of a fluffy, white cat. I closed the magazine and pulled it up to shift it a little out of my way. Somehow I managed to knock the little kitten off the edge of the bed.

I tried to catch the kitten, but I couldn't. I stuck my left leg out, in front of the bunk bed's ladder, possibly to catch the kitten on my foot. But it just rolled down my leg and off my foot. The little kitten thunked down on the ground. It writhed a little. I thought it had hit the floor pretty hard for a newborn cat and that it was probably injured or dead.

I scrambled down the steps. I knelt over the kitten. It still writhed. It had fur like a full-grown cat (grey and dusty white with black, watery stripes), but the kitten was only about three inches long. The kitten's eyes were shut tight, like the kitten was in extreme pain. I picked up the kitten. It looked like a newly hatched bird. It had greyish-peach skin and blue, round eyes. It still writhed in its pale blue jumpsuit or blanket. I was sure it was in its death throes.

I lifted it up to the other cat, which may have had orange fur. I hoped the other cat would be able to care for the kitten or let me know by some instinctual reaction that the kitten was okay. The orange cat began writhing like the little kitten. But then it began pushing the kitten away, getting more and more annoyed with the kitten.

I now realized that my thinking had been wrong. Since the orange cat wasn't the grey kitten's mother, it couldn't take care of the kitten like a mother would. And it couldn't be worried about the kitten's pain if it couldn't take care of the kitten.

I thought, Well, if the kitten is still moving, it might be alright. I picked the kitten back up. I thought I would need to find the kitten's mom.

The room I was in was messy, full of junk and unopened moving boxes that were strung over with clothing and fabric. I walked into the hallway, which looked the same. The whole house, apparently, was full of boxes and junk. And it was glowing with golden sunlight.

I looked down at the kitten. Its grey head was now red, as if the kitten had sustained a head injury after all and was now hemorrhaging. The kitten shook its head back and forth, looking at me urgently. The kitten's face was almost human, like the face of a classic grey alien with blue eyes and a cat nose.

To see that the kitten understood what was happening to it was too much for me. I began to call out. But I was so uncertain of whether I should call out for my own mother or for the kitten's mother that my cries were just like groans of voice before the word is formed. I kept making this sound and getting more and more panicked.

I walked into the bathroom, which was also full of junk and boxes. I must have thought that either the mother cat or my own mother was in the bathtub. I thought that if I laid the kitten in the tub I would either know for sure that the kitten was going to die, and that it was my fault, or that the kitten would be taken care of.