(9/8/07) drama on an aircraft carrier

(Entered in paper journal at 7:50 AM at Ozzie's cafe on Seventh Avenue and Lincoln Place in Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I sat outside a house (in the woods?) with my co-worker ES. ES told me that a woman who had just been by had really impressed her, but that ES felt like she must not have been impressive to the woman. I listened as I sat on a four-foot-long log. There were a few other logs lying around. The day was calm and grey.

ES walked behind me and off to my right, where there may have been a couple vehicles like old Ford Broncos. ES continued speaking about the beautiful girl (whom I saw in my mind's eye as tall and blonde). ES said, "She just has everything: she's beautiful, she's smart, she's nice. I hope she knows how much I appreciate that." It suddenly dawned on me that ES was in love with this woman.

I stood at a lawn in front of a building like a long house or like my old high school. The day was still grey, though now it was a little windier. There were a lot of people outside with me. Most were men. It was like people were coming out of a movie.

A little verbal conflict started and finished quickly between two short, Mexican men and a tall, white man. Now everybody was gone. I stood by myself thinking, Those two kids are going to come by to find that man and make him pay for fighting with them. I couldn't remember now whether I was the white man. It felt eerie outside all alone in the grey breeze waiting, presumably, for some carload of kids to come by and shoot me.

I stood inside an almost empty house. The house was like the house I lived from about my sixth grade to ninth grade years of school. I was in the living room. Off to my back and right the room seemed to have opened into a hallway for a larger building like a community building or a large church which could also serve as a community building. In front of the front window of the living room stood a table with a lot of food on it.

I milled around the room, possibly waiting for a woman to get finished at a presentation or a movie. I was still afraid of the two kids and their friends coming after me. But I was also disappointed that I had "pulled" myself out of the range of their fire (apparently by shifting scenes).

I looked a little through the food on the table. Some cups on the windowsill caught my attention. I felt like there was a sweet, warm liquid in them. That was what I wanted. But as I grabbed the cup I felt like maybe I shouldn't take it, that maybe people were watching me and my taking food would only confirm to them what a "waster" or "grubber" I was.

I took the cup anyway, but when I looked inside I saw that all there was was some thin layer of grimy, pale-brown, translucent, sludgy material dotted with little, white, goopy chunks. It smelled almost too sweet. I thought, This isn't what I was looking for.

I thought I had picked up something diseased. I worried whether touching the cup would also make me diseased. But now I looked back in the cup. The material inside was just dry, powdered hot chocolate with tiny, dry marshmallows. I thought, Oh, it was just hot chocolate mix after all. Still, it wasn't the drink I'd wanted.

I sat in a room with my friend R, his fiancee L, and a couple other people. The room was large, and the table we sat at took up most of it. It was low to the ground, circular, and made of dark, dark wood. We sat on various items, but not regular chairs, which would have been too tall for the table. We all spoke about something that made me ashamed. It may have been about work or about me leaving work.

I stood on the deck (?) of an aircraft carrier. I stood before two men, both of high rank (for the Navy?). One stood directly in front of me; the other before me and to my right. To my left was a grey aircraft which, as I looked at it, I tried to identify by sorting through aircraft images in my mind. Finally my mind locked on something like an SR-71.

The man in front of me waved his right arm toward the craft and told me that everybody felt I should be the one to make the last flight of this craft. I felt honored in a very relaxed, understated way.

The jet was now in a small space that seemed to have been formed to fit only this craft. The space matched the contours of the jet and extended out only a few feet on all sides. The surrounding material seemed to be thick stucco or concrete, round, like the walls of a Spanish building or catacombs (?), not like the inside of an aircraft carrier (?).

The two high-ranking Navy men and I stood before the jet. The two men were joking about some movie, which I didn't figure out until later was Top Gun. I now knelt, as the men kept joking about the "unreality" of the movie, by the left underside of the craft, near the wing.

I stuck my head into the small gap between the undercarriage of the jet and the wall of the space. I turned my head in a strange way and, trying to pull my head back out of the gap, found I couldn't. I was panicked for a moment. But then I turned my head and came back out of the gap with no trouble. As I was doing this the two men were joking about some place name, something that started with a "B" but was always mistaken "in the movie" to start with a "G."

I could see the glass (?) dome of the cockpit, which had tan pieces of tape holding white, washer-shaped, paper circles to the window.

I may have tapped (somehow -- I wasn't in the cockpit) on the glass and remembered the flip-off scene from the beginning of Top Gun.

Now the jet pilot was getting ready to fly. I heard some people talking to the pilot as I (disembodied?) looked out over brightly rolling waves underneath a hot, blue sky. The waves would surge in a white blaze of sun reflections and then trough in fading, brilliant, deep blue.

One man told the pilot, "I never thought anything yo did was ridiculous. I was just a little jealous. But now that you're making this flight," (which was now going to keep the pilot away from home for a long, long time) "I want you to know how you important I think it is and how good it is that you are doing it."

I could see that the jet was going to launch from a hole in the front and midsection of the aircraft carrier.

I may have been flying with another person. We flew through a bunch of clutter floating on the water. We were near a tall wall of concrete, like at the edge of a river.

As we flew past one piece of clutter, a yellow, metal, rectangular "box," maybe fifty feet long, probably lying on a waterlogged, wooden barge, the person I flew with said something like, "Perhaps while you're there, they'll even let you open the research box." I knew the research box was this yellow box. It was stuffed with a grimy, smelly, sludgy matter. It was like decomposed garbage, I thought. I thought, Why would I want to open something like that?

I stood on a ledge of the tall wall. The front of the aircraft carrier faced an end of the ledge. The pilot and other people could load into the carrier from the ledge. A lot of other people were on the ledge, which may have been about twenty feet wide. The people were having a sort of "bon voyage party" for the pilot. The only person I could pick out in the crowd was a skinny, brown-haired girl.

A young man, maybe in his early twenties, though he seemed to be only about three feet tall, came up to me and in a panic cried, "I'm going to do it! I'm going to do this to myself!"

I recognized the young man from somewhere, possibly as one of the people who had been milling around after the movie earlier on. I knew that I had known the man (from wherever) as a self-centered boy who generally requited no attention, although he felt like he always had it, and that that produced an uneasy sensation in people, so that, he felt, people generally stayed away from him.

The young man had been engrossed in some mechanical science project. But now everybody was watching this pilot go off, and the young man had to accept that nobody was paying attention to him. This fact put the young man in a suicidal frenzy, apparently. The young man came to me with a screwdriver and a chain like the thin chain of a cheap, backyard swingset. The chain was black. The screwdriver, Phillips-head, had a clear handle with red markings in the grip ridges.

The young man made it clear he was going to kill himself, and that he would try with the second instrument he held if he didn't succeed with the first. (The screwdriver may have been the first instrument.) The young man may have been trying to run into the launch area to do this to himself.

I grabbed the young man and yelled, "Don't you know you have no right to do this right now? Everybody is here to give this man support! He is going somewhere and leaving everything he knows behind for a very long time! For years! And we are all trying to support him  in a moment that is probably very scary and sad for him!"

The young man lost his frenzied look about halfway through my speech. He then took on an aghast look, which broke into a lost look of regret, like the young man couldn't believe he'd acted so selfishly. Then he broke down crying, in sympathy with the man for the scariness and loneliness of the journey he would be going on. The man might at this time have had a face like that of a classic grey alien.

(10/16/07) where the new building was; emergency party; like a worm made out of brains

(Entered in paper journal at 5:50 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I watched, from the back passenger seat, a car pass a field with trees like cherry trees. Somehow I thought this was where my company's new building would be (in waking life, my company was in the final planning stages for moving into a new building -- we would be fully moved in, if I remember correctly, by about July of 2008 -- only to be moved into another building in January of 2009!)

I thought, This would be a nice area to take runs. There was a path running through the field. We passed along a creek or river at the bottom of a slope of rocks. The creek itself was rocky. An empty boat, with two paddles, clanked along some of the rocks.

I thought, But this is New York City. The roads are bad on (my boss) BS' knees. We really couldn't come up with a running route that would be good for BS. I also thought of asking my co-worker CJ if he wanted to run.

We passed another river, which ran at the bottom of a waterfall. The waterfall gushed over huge, round, coppery rocks and flooded the river.

We passed a building that was built in three sections. I saw it from the back. The two back sections were roundish with green, metallic framing for the windows. The front section rose slightly above the back sections and was octagonal, probably of pink stone, with a shallow, a-frame roof. It was in a field of dry, yellow-tan and orange-tan grass.

Now it was like I sat backwards, looking out the back window, in the backseat and on the driver's side. My mom was driving the car. My brother and sister were also in the car. We drove on a straight road, through slightly rolling stretches of flat plains -- yellowy-tan grass with some hints of green and orange and some glimpses of rich (?), brown soil beneath. There were occasional, thin clumps of trees, the green of their leafs as pale as floating clouds.

Then I saw a white tree. It was de-limbed, so all it was was a white trunk with four limb-stumps coming off of it. It looked like a wild, raging horse to me.

I thought my mom would be impressed by how much I liked looking out the window. I asked my mom some question relating to telling her about the things my siblings and I had done. My mom surprised me by answering something like, "I don't care. Don't tell me anything." I tried to change that statement into something more positive in my mind.

We passed a stand of thin aspen trees that edged before some tall, redbrick buildings like apartment complexes.

Dream #2

I sat in my desk at work. There was an alarm. A man's voice came on over the alarm's intercom speaker. The man announced a party (?) in XXXXX's office.

When the alarm had first come on, I had been afraid, wondering if the announcement would be for an actual emergency. I had worried whether I would do everything alright and help everybody effectively through the emergency. Now I was a little disappointed. It was just a birthday party?

For some reason I wasn't wearing shoes. But my shoes were sitting right next to me. I picked up my shoes and walked to the cubicle in front of the office where the party was. The party was, somehow, both in the office and down the hall.

The party was for one of my co-workers, AR, who was, like myself, an Administrative Assistant. Someone told AR, "You could be head of GM (i.e. Global Markets) one day! You throw parties so well!"

I was disappointed. Hadn't my old co-worker and mentor ES, now herself an Analyst like my (and, before, her) boss BS, said to me once, "You could be CEO of this company one day"? (I'm pretty sure that in waking life ES never told me that, although she has always complimented me on my "abilities" -- whatever those abilities are/were!)

I now reflected, Maybe you just said all that stuff to kind of puff up your assistants, make them feel more important than you really think they are, just so you can keep them working. How else, I thought in my jealousy, could someone make such a kind statement about AR, who, I peevishly thought, scarcely worked as hard as I worked?

I didn't even want to go into the room now. I was too ashamed. I took my time putting on my shoes.

AR called, "Preemie, get in here!"

I said, "I'm coming."

She said, "I've been making decisions to be nice. But pretty soon I'm going to have to stop making decisions!"

I thought, Nobody's going to talk to me that way!

But now both AR and ES were out in the cubicle with me. They were both saying nice things to me.

Dream #3

I sat watching a movie. I walked out and then back in. I walked up to my seat as the movie was ending. There were shots of blue sky and power lines, vistas of plains, and other shots I loved. The narrative of the film ended, a song began playing, and the credits began to roll.

But as the song started, a voice (of some Hispanic boy?) called out, "Hey, uh... The film is pretty much ended, everybody. We would appreciate it if you got up and left."

I was in a front row. I had my stuff sitting against the railing in front of me. I stood to pick it up. I had forgotten that I had brought a coat. I had actually brought a lot more than I had remembered.

I walked out into the hallway, which was like the hallway in a city building, just off from the reception lobby. I stood in a weird junction of hallways and right by a garbage can. I stood talking with two black girls.

The girls mentioned a young man, one of their co-workers (they all worked at this movie-house), who did a lot of other stuff. I wasn't sure what the "other stuff" was. I asked, "Does he work somewhere else, too?"

The girls got upset, like I had insinuated that all the boy could do was work in places like this. One of them said, "No. He goes to school. He's studying to be a scientist."

We talked a little more. Then I had to leave. One of the girls walked with me out into the dark, blue-grey evening. The girl smiled and said, "I've always wanted to see the car you drive."

We stood in a mostly empty shopping mall parking lot. The movie-house was now more like a restaurant. I saw my car in the distance. It was an old, beat-up car, like one I drove in my last year of high school -- except that the paint job on the car was now all new and shiny.

I thought, I can't let the girl see that thing. Besides, this girl wasn't the girl I wanted. Both girls were pretty. But the girl I liked, the other girl I'd been talking with in the movie-house hallway, had rounder eyes, not thin eyes like this girl.

The girl with me stopped to talk with a mother and her kids, who stood by a van. I thought, While the girl's not paying attention I can drive away. That way she won't see my awful car.

I turned to tell the girl goodbye. But I saw her from behind and was too surprised to say anything. The girl was now short, ugly, and poor-looking (???!!! -- I'm sometimes shocked by the things I've said!). She wore a blue t-shirt and tight blue jeans which showed off her big bottom. Her big bottom really turned me off.

A black man who was about my height and a little bigger than I, smart-looking, with thin-rimmed eyeglasses, walked past me. I must have thought this was the friend the two women had been talking about in the movie-house hallway.

I thought, Now's my chance to prove I don't think the girls' friend is capable only of working in a movie theater. I apparently thought I could do this simply by making small talk with the man in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. I said, "Hey, man, we'll see you later."

The man walked past me without even regarding me. I thought, Okay -- you show kindness and it isn't returned!

I walked toward my car. My mom walked beside me and to my left. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. The phone (a regular, old-style flip-phone -- as I remember it from waking life, a black Nokia) was cracked. I thought, Maybe it's just cracked on the surface. But I opened it to see that the crack ran across all its surfaces. I looked at the sides. They were messed up, too.

I almost started crying. I thought, What did I do to make this happen? Can't I take care of anything I own?

It was now more like daytime. The car was by the entrance to the mall. My mom and I were at the end of the parking aisle, maybe twenty feet from the car. We passed a needle-leafed tree in a planting island.

I had been speaking with my mom and barely attending the stout tree. But, reflecting on the tree after we'd passed it, it struck me that the tree had weird, tiered, pink and white flowers on it. I told my mom, "Let's go back. That tree looks weird."

We went back. I looked at the branches. There were strange, but somehow sensible, tan-brown, brittle, cone-shaped things standing atop the thin branches. I thought, Maybe I just mistook these things for flowers.

But then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the pink and white flower. I hadn't seen the flower because it was on the periphery of the tree, not in the center, where I had focused my gaze.

The trunk of the tree seemed to end about two feet up from the ground. From the top of the trunk came an agave-like plant with spiny, yellow, purple, and green leafs. I said, "That's what I thought I saw! Isn't it odd?"

I reached out to touch the plant, to make sure I was seeing leafs and not more cones. The plant felt odd. And when I pulled my hand back, I noticed the top leafs moving, as if of their own volition. I thought, That can't be real. I have to be seeing things.

My mom and I were walking away. But the plant really bugged me. I had to look at it again. I told my mom, "Something else didn't make sense." I didn't want to tell my mom what didn't make sense -- namely, that the plant seemed to be moving on its own.

We went back to the tree. Now I saw that the plant grew out of a hollow in the top of the tree trunk -- although it was a part of the tree. I saw steady, directed movement from within the trunk. I knew the movement wasn't volitional, but that it was growth -- life.

I saw a spiky (like a sea-cucumber), worm-like appendage emerge from beneath the leafs. I shouted to my mom, "See?! I wasn't imagining! This thing is growing quicker than normal!"

The thing emerged, as huge as a boa constrictor, and wove its way through the thin branches of the tree. It was like a worm made out of brains, with a head like a gigantic breast. It hung over a branch above us. I knew if it touched us it would incorporate us.

I told my mom, "Run to the car!" We ran and got in.

The thing was growing. It had taken over the tree and spread toward us through the parking lot. I didn't know if we could get started and drive away quickly enough.

I saw a car coming from an underground parking garage to the left of the tree. Now the parking garage was like a car wash. It sprayed water all over the car. Jets of water flew outside the garage. They hit the plant-thing. As soon as they did, the thing dissolved into yellowy, thickish, soapy-looking water.

I hoped that more cars would come through the garage to get washed. The thing was dissolved now, but I felt like it would regain its consistency. I thought that more water needed to hit the thing before it would lose its ability to re-stabilize.

(2/20/08) treasury and fed; nwne; the shawmut; waiting for mom; duane reade

(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I was in a dark place, maybe inside a house and then out on a lawn at night. I heard about my old friend R killing someone. R was now threatening to kill me because I worked for the US Treasury.

I walked through some concrete area with dead or dormant weeds spiking up along the walls. I was thinking to myself how I might start working somewhere else, maybe the Federal Reserve. But I needed to give myself time to make the move.

Dream #2

I was in a house with my mother, my sister, and probably my brother. The weather was a little wintry, but tornadoes were causing destruction nearby. The tornadoes were in the northwest of the city. We were in the northeast. I saw in my mind a diagram of quadrants, with the northwest and northeast quadrants labeled.

I told my mom we should get out of here. I sat on the floor by my sister. My mom stood over us. My mom said, "There's nothing to worry about. The storms are in the northwest."

I said, "But they'll move!"

My mom said, "Alright, alright. Everybody into the car."

I was in the kitchen. I slung a small, plastic bag of something over my shoulder. Some animal like a rabbit pulled the whole thing into its mouth. I turned around and pulled the animal off the bag. The animal was now like a cocker spaniel. The dog scurried around violently. I knelt down. I may have been wearing shorts. I had bare legs. The dog was biting my legs.

All around us were empty boxes of food, like cereal boxes. I knew the dog was hungry. I tried to find it some food. Only one box still had food in it. The food was like Froot Loops, but it was like someone had already poured milk on them and the milk had dried, leaving the cereal all caked together. I knew that food probably wasn't good for anything to eat. But I was still trying to get it out of the box to feed the dog.

Dream #3

I was in a hotel room in Boston. I might just have come back in after having been out for a couple hours. The room was dimmish. I stood before the door. The cleaning lady knocked and then came inside. She said she was sorry if she was bothering me. I said it was no big deal.

I walked over and sat on the bed. The bed was undone, the blankets in a heap. I saw a used Band-Aid on my bed. i knew it wasn't my Band-Aid, and that I had laid in bed all night with my feet touching somebody's used Band-Aid.

I turned on the TV. I thought about my old co-worker and mentor ES or my boss BS having once said they weren't particular about the hotel they stayed in. They could even stay in the hotel I was in right now -- the Shawmut.

Dream #4

I was at "my dad's house," which was somewhere in the woods. We were getting ready to go, possibly to a movie in a nearby city. But we realized that my mom had taken all the keys for the cars. (This is odd -- we all had handfuls of sets of keys. It was more like the cars were all gone.)

I was angry that my mom could leave us stuck like this without leaving us any idea of when she would be back. My sister and I tried to call my mom on her cell phone, but my mom wasn't answering. Finally I said, "I can get out of here myself. I don't need a car. I can walk."

I imagined a few trails running through a mountain meadow. My only fear was that my mom would come after I'd started walking and make me look like a fool for having been impatient to leave.

Dream #5

(Vision?) I stood before a mirrored wall with a Duane Reade sign and doorway around it.

(3/4/09) the crumbling edifice; uncle steals my phone; where we really wanted to go

(Entered in paper journal at 8:42 AM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and Third Avenue in Manhattan.)

Dream #1

It was night. I was with a group of people from "my job" (i.e. the job I'd just gotten laid off from). The group of people may have been my boss BS, my teammate DE, and someone else.

We had just gotten out of a meeting, and we were probably going to go to another one in just a little while. Both of the meetings were possibly with the same person: a tall, pretty, blonde woman. The woman may have suggested that there was a place in the building where we could get some good coffee. But for some reason BS wanted to go outside the building.

The building faced something like a vacant lot, as if the building were somewhere in a desert or an undeveloped business complex. The sky was black and flashing as if with lightning. But we could see everything around us, as if it were lit for a movie. It may have started raining a little. The building was as big as a New York skyscraper.

We got to a corner (we had turned right going out of the building) and turned right. We now walked up a slight slope. We were under a structure like the walkway overhang seen on some shopping plaza buildings (and on some skyscrapers). The columns were square and may have been made of a conglomerate material, like concrete full of round pebbles. The ceiling was concrete.

We had gone a long way, just to find some coffee, and now our meeting would start in just a short while. BS now said we should go back to the place the woman had suggested to get some coffee. But I knew that by the time we got back there, it would almost be time for the meeting to start. We wouldn't have time to get the coffee. We were about to emerge from the overhang. We'd have to run through the rain to get to the next overhang.

But now the ceiling of the overhang cracked. I heard it and looked up. The ceiling was divided into large squares. The square directly over us had a crack through the center. The square in front of us, the last square of the overhang, now cracked very loudly. A few cracks in it caused that section of the ceiling to sag downward. It looked like there was earth above the concrete. I don't now how thick the concrete was. Possibly not very thick at all. I called to everybody to get away from the building altogether because the whole thing was going to go down.

I ran up the slope and across the street or into the street. I looked down to the overhang. There were a lot of people there, all people I knew from work. In particular I saw my senior co-worker, mentor, and friend ES, who may have been wearing a vivid, darkish blue, v-neck sweater with a white undershirt. I yelled to ES in particular to get away from the building. But everybody, including ES, was standing still under the overhang, as if they were waiting for the rain to stop.

At some point the building may have collapsed. Everybody was huddling over by the (other?) building, sitting, maybe, under blankets. It may not have been raining, or else the rain may not have mattered.

ES sat somewhere to my left -- or I simply may have heard/felt her in my head. ES said something like, "Even when you were gone, we all knew, It'll be like this with Preemie: buy side, buy side, bam, Preemie right here on the sell side." As ES said this I saw glowing rectangle outlines (like gun-sights in a video game). As ES spoke, it was like she was referring to rectangles farther and farther to the left.

Dream #2

It was night. I was in a house with my family. It was more than just my immediate family. There were members from my dad's side of the family as well.

The house was dark. There may have been some light somewhere, but not much, and I couldn't make out the source (possibly outdoor streetlamp light coming in through curtained windows). It was like this place was on a floor in an apartment building. The apartment may have been very large.

The main room, the living room, was very large, maybe thirty feet by thirty feet. There were occasional chairs and other pieces of furniture. But most or all of the space was taken up by people, my family members, sleeping under sleeping bags and blankets on the floor. It seemed like most everybody was asleep.

I was walking through the room, as if I had just gotten into it, as if I had just come to whatever this gathering was. There were a few people awake, some in the center of the room, kind of arranged as campers might be around a fire (except with just empty floor between them, and not fire) and some people standing at the other end of the room, as if in the doorway for a kitchen.

As I walked through the center of the room, a man, my uncle R, called to me. He asked me what my phone was. I told him it was a BlackBerry. He asked me if he could see it. I handed it to him.

Someone from the doorway to the kitchen was also talking, either to me and my uncle or just to my uncle. The people around my uncle all lay around talking about things, possibly technology. There may have been small lights before them, like the lights from small electronic devices.

I now stood in the room in the daylight. There were still blankets and sleeping bags throughout the room, where everyone had slept. But now there was nobody around.

I walked to the circle of blankets where my uncle R had been, so I could grab my BlackBerry. I knelt down and picked the BlackBerry out of a messy pile of electronic devices. I now saw that my BlackBerry was missing its back, and that the battery was also gone.

I was panicked. I had trusted my uncle and let him look at my phone, and now he'd taken stuff out of it. I tried to see if the SiM card was still in it, but I didn't have enough composure. I sifted though all the other stuff on the ground, but I couldn't find either the back or the battery.

I now got pissed off. I turned around and yelled toward the kitchen, to someone, to my mom or anyone, "Somebody took the battery out of my BlackBerry! If anybody sees my battery and back lying around, let me know!"

On the wall to my left was the front door of the apartment. (Just to the left of that door?) was a small hallway to a couple of bedrooms. My uncle now ran out of that hallway. He had the battery, which was hooked directly to a thick, coiled cord, as if the battery were being charged directly instead of through the device.

The charger wasn't mine, but my uncle hurriedly handed me both the battery and the charger. He had obviously stolen my battery. Now he wanted to get rid of it as soon as possibly, even if that meant losing the charger as well.

My uncle looked worn out, dried out. He may have had purple sacks or even pale bruises under his eyes. He was trying to explain something to me, either how he'd made a mistake in taking the battery, or how he had taken the battery to charge it for me as a favor. I could tell just by the way he was acting (and by the condition in which he'd handed me my battery) that he was lying. I was't even trying to listen to what he said.

Dream #3

I had driven to some place with my mother and brother. It was dark outside, but we could see everything fine, as if it were lit for a cartoon or a movie. We were in some place like an asphalt lot with a cinder block wall, which was directly before us, and a chain-link fence, with barbed wire on top, which was to our right. We stood outside the car, which may have been something like an old Ford Gran Torino, maybe goldish colored.

We spoke about directions to where we really wanted to go. I may have "seen" something in the wall, like a display rack of red clothing, up about ten feet on the wall. We knew we had to turn around.

(2/14/10) an interesting cookie

(Entered in paper journal at 8:15 AM, at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I sat in an office space. I sat in a half-cubicle that was wide and open to an open space across which was another desk, to my right and behind me. A woman sat at that desk. Her cubicle was stacked with papers.

The woman was speaking "on the internet" to someone. She was trying to locate my older brother (who died when I was 17 years old). My brother was late to work or had recently often been absent. The woman was going to have to fire him.

My older brother was in some dark space, like he was hidden in the dark box of an old television set, with just a dim light glowing on his face. I felt like there was no reason to fire my older brother -- it seemed like he was already doomed., and that it would be senseless to fire him.

My old co-worker ES walked into the space between the two half-cubicles. I looked forward in my desk. I had a big plate full of pieces of chocolate chip cookies on my lap. I fingered through the cookie pieces, possibly eating some, as I thought about my older brother.

ES now offered me a piece of cookie, which she said was surprisingly delicious. I turned back to ES and grabbed a piece of cookie. The cookie looked extremely white and sweet, like some kind of Indian condensed milk dessert mixed with a sugar cookie (which was supposed to be a chocolate chip cookie. I took a piece and ate it.

The cookie made me hear things. It was data that I needed for my job. I heard an Asian woman talking. She said, "At first she tried to get away by clawing her way along with her fingertips. So I bit off all her fingers." The Asian woman then explained that she had also either cut off or eaten the woman in question's forearms, and possibly her legs.

I could see in my mind's eye a place that looked like a corridor of the ship in the movie Alien. The light may have been a bit blue-grey and darkish, like in an anime.

I may have felt kind of strange about ES, suddenly, like she was a part of something I couldn't approve of. But I also wondered why he would think this cookie was so delicious. I then decided that she meant, not delicious, but interesting, as in, it allowed you to receive information in a new and interesting way.

(2/17/10) embracing in atrium; reproduction rejected

(Entered in paper journal at 6:10 AM, on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I was in a large, atrium-like area with grey and white tiled floors and a glass ceiling which may have shown light from a grey sky. The area may have had sculptures in i. I was about midway up a staircase which stood somewhere toward the back of the room. I lay down on the (grey stone?) steps, embracing my girlfriend H. There may have been a couple other people, friends, in the area, wandering around casually.

Dream #2

I was somewhere with my old co-worker ES. She told me that even though I had nice, very good cells, she had to make the choice not to use my cells for reproduction.