(Entered in paper journal at 5:20 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I walked through the lobby of a nice, modern building with an Asian woman. The woman was pretty, but a little overweight. She told me she worked with my company's economist, ML. I thought that was neat. Suddenly I remembered a news article or TV story saying ML had often had the sole audience of the former Fed chairman.
The woman and I stood in the elevator. We were going up. I asked the woman, "Doesn't it ever seem weird to be working with such a famous person? Do people ever treat you weird?"
The elevator opened on the woman's floor. The woman giggled and shook her head. She walked out. I thought I had probably said something kind of dumb to the woman. I had wanted to be friends with her. Now she probably just thought I wanted to advance my career.
Dream #2
I got onto a bus with a line of people. I sat in the second row of the bus. A man who had been in front of me in line sat in the front row. He was black, with lightish skin. He was tall, with a scraggly beard and wide, frizzy hair. He looked mean. The second row felt tight, like the seat back from the first row was pushing into my space.
The bu drove along a river or wide body of water (to our left). Before the river were small warehousing or industrial areas. I sat a jet like an SR-71 Blackbird glide over the water. It moved slowly. It came closer and was now large in my view.
I didn't know the man in front of me. I was pretty sure he didn't like me. But I knocked on the seat-back and said, "Blackbird! Blackbird!"
The man said, "I don't want to see it. I don't want to know what's happening if something like that is flying again."
The Blackbird was pointed at maybe seventy-five degrees, its underside facing us. It may have been only one hundred feet above us. It had a weird, thin, twisted shape. There was a lot more red lining on it than I was familiar with there being.
The Blackbird lifted slowly in the air and then clattered down onto its back in one of the industrial lots. I thought the man meant, when he said he didn't want to know why a Blackbird was flying, that he didn't want to know that a nuclear war was approaching. I thought, seeing the Blackbird lying on its back (the Blackbird having skidded across the lot as if it were just a hollow shell), that if it had a nuclear bomb on board, the crash might have agitated the bomb so that the bomb would go off soon.
I looked away almost flinchingly. But by then we had pretty much passed the jet. I thought, It's strange, isn't it?, that I should see something like that. This is a dream.
At first I couldn't believe it: everything felt so real. But I thought, To see if it is a dream, I should just shout out that it is. I pounded on the seat back and window and yelled, "This is a dream! This is a dream!"
I decided to control my own actions. I would go back to the plane. I stood up. Everything faded out, as if I were waking up or going out of the dream. I tried to keep myself aware. I walked to the back of the bus. I couldn't see where I was going. I couldn't tell whether I was dreaming or just imagining.
I got to the back of the bus. Right behind the bus, I knew, was an SR-71 Blackbird that was being towed along on a truck. I moved through the back of the bus (i.e. through the material of a door that was in the wall of the back of the bus, then kick-pushed off the back of the bus, like a swimmer would kick-push off a wall, to fly/swim to the hatch for the cockpit of the jet.
Showing posts with label colleague ML. Show all posts
Showing posts with label colleague ML. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Saturday, January 26, 2013
(1/30/08) they didn't let just anybody stay here
(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a place like a cabin in the woods. It was supposed to be a hotel. I was in the living room with three other people, two of whom were possibly a young woman and an older man. All three were at a longish table sat against the wall on its short side between two bedrooms.
I wanted to be at this hotel. The people told me that they didn't let just anybody stay here. The people who stayed here had to be quiet and studious like them. I sat down at the table and opened my book, hoping that by reading with the people I could prove I was studious.
I stood outside a house in the mountain-suburbs. I was with my family. I walked just inside the front doorway. An oldish woman with long, white hair, blue eyes, a fattish, dumpy look, and wearing a brightly colored, plaid dress, like my mother might wear, sat on a chair or a box in front of me. The woman was talking to me. I thought of her as my great-grandmother on my grandmother's side of the family. Her speech didn't make much sense.
My aunt B led me inside the living room to a box maybe five feet long and one and a half feet deep. There were all kinds of paintings and drawings inside. My aunt B stood to my left. She wore an orange shirt.
My aunt B pulled some of the paintings and drawings out of the box and showed them to me. She told me they were drawings she'd made when she was a child. I was pretty impressed. The styles and subjects were all different.
My aunt B made a comment, possibly about how maybe the pieces weren't all as good as she thought. I patted her on the back and embraced her to encourage her, but I also did or said something that might have made her feel even worse.
We noticed that on the box flaps were huge swatches of green and blue crayon marking. Either I or my aunt B said that one of my cousins, either AH or B, probably made those markings when they were trying to be artistic.
I sat in a dining room table with a few people from my company. The table was longish, oval, and dark. The room was dim, the only light being that which came in from a lit, probably orange-walled, room behind us.
My senior co-worker, and one of the foremost analysts in my company, DC, was to my right. Her hair was undone and straight. Her bangs came straight down over her forehead. DC was telling me how everybody would like to hire me as a first-year analyst, but how I needed to get all my degrees first. DC called into the back room to my boss BS. BS stuck his head in and agreed with DC.
I walked into a big room which must have been lit by daylight. It was a conference room, but there were folding chairs all over the place, haphazardly placed, as if this were just some big, casual living room. The carpet was like the carpet of a living room, thick and grey. There were tall, dark wood columns running through the room. At the front of the room was a folding table. I sat in one of the folding chairs near the middle of the room.
Somebody introduced ML, my company's main economics analyst. ML got up and presented. But I couldn't understand a thing he said. It was like all his ideas kept trailing of.
We now got up, as if it were a break time, or time for some other presentation. Then we came back. I went to the wall first, as if to gather some of my personal belongings before sitting down. I had to explain to somebody that he hadn't heard wrong, that this was another presentation by ML, picking up where ML had left off before.
I might have stayed standing. ML came back. He was now dressed in a light blue spandex outfit and cape, including a mask (?) that was pulled over his face and covered about the top half of his face. ML said that since it was New Year's, and we were all going to the New Year's party dressed up, that ML would just give his presentation dressed up. Nobody thought this made any sense, but I thought it was fine. ML started talking and not making any sense again. I wondered how we were going to get anything out of this presentation.
Now SC, one of the main analysts for the company's mortgage-backed securities division, got up to speak, as if to clarify everything ML had just said. Everybody cheered as SC got up -- not in contrast to ML, but just because he was so famous. But something about the cheering annoyed me. I thought, Can't we just get down to business? Why does everything have to be just showing off or nonsense?
Dream #1
I was in a place like a cabin in the woods. It was supposed to be a hotel. I was in the living room with three other people, two of whom were possibly a young woman and an older man. All three were at a longish table sat against the wall on its short side between two bedrooms.
I wanted to be at this hotel. The people told me that they didn't let just anybody stay here. The people who stayed here had to be quiet and studious like them. I sat down at the table and opened my book, hoping that by reading with the people I could prove I was studious.
I stood outside a house in the mountain-suburbs. I was with my family. I walked just inside the front doorway. An oldish woman with long, white hair, blue eyes, a fattish, dumpy look, and wearing a brightly colored, plaid dress, like my mother might wear, sat on a chair or a box in front of me. The woman was talking to me. I thought of her as my great-grandmother on my grandmother's side of the family. Her speech didn't make much sense.
My aunt B led me inside the living room to a box maybe five feet long and one and a half feet deep. There were all kinds of paintings and drawings inside. My aunt B stood to my left. She wore an orange shirt.
My aunt B pulled some of the paintings and drawings out of the box and showed them to me. She told me they were drawings she'd made when she was a child. I was pretty impressed. The styles and subjects were all different.
My aunt B made a comment, possibly about how maybe the pieces weren't all as good as she thought. I patted her on the back and embraced her to encourage her, but I also did or said something that might have made her feel even worse.
We noticed that on the box flaps were huge swatches of green and blue crayon marking. Either I or my aunt B said that one of my cousins, either AH or B, probably made those markings when they were trying to be artistic.
I sat in a dining room table with a few people from my company. The table was longish, oval, and dark. The room was dim, the only light being that which came in from a lit, probably orange-walled, room behind us.
My senior co-worker, and one of the foremost analysts in my company, DC, was to my right. Her hair was undone and straight. Her bangs came straight down over her forehead. DC was telling me how everybody would like to hire me as a first-year analyst, but how I needed to get all my degrees first. DC called into the back room to my boss BS. BS stuck his head in and agreed with DC.
I walked into a big room which must have been lit by daylight. It was a conference room, but there were folding chairs all over the place, haphazardly placed, as if this were just some big, casual living room. The carpet was like the carpet of a living room, thick and grey. There were tall, dark wood columns running through the room. At the front of the room was a folding table. I sat in one of the folding chairs near the middle of the room.
Somebody introduced ML, my company's main economics analyst. ML got up and presented. But I couldn't understand a thing he said. It was like all his ideas kept trailing of.
We now got up, as if it were a break time, or time for some other presentation. Then we came back. I went to the wall first, as if to gather some of my personal belongings before sitting down. I had to explain to somebody that he hadn't heard wrong, that this was another presentation by ML, picking up where ML had left off before.
I might have stayed standing. ML came back. He was now dressed in a light blue spandex outfit and cape, including a mask (?) that was pulled over his face and covered about the top half of his face. ML said that since it was New Year's, and we were all going to the New Year's party dressed up, that ML would just give his presentation dressed up. Nobody thought this made any sense, but I thought it was fine. ML started talking and not making any sense again. I wondered how we were going to get anything out of this presentation.
Now SC, one of the main analysts for the company's mortgage-backed securities division, got up to speak, as if to clarify everything ML had just said. Everybody cheered as SC got up -- not in contrast to ML, but just because he was so famous. But something about the cheering annoyed me. I thought, Can't we just get down to business? Why does everything have to be just showing off or nonsense?
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
(12/1/08) life after love; egyptian tomb; integrity; pure hargrove; ML/sellers; not built for me
(Entered in paper journal at 7 AM on B-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
A scene like in a movie or a TV show. A barroom. A bunch of military men were gathered together, possibly after the test-flight of some new jets. The lighting in the bar was somehow very pale and stagey.
A young man who looked like Ron Howard when he was on Happy Days stood by a white, square column. Another, older man came up to him. He slung his right arm up against the column, to kind of get close to the young man, as if he were trying to hit on him.
I was now the young man. I thought, Well, I'm not attracted to this guy. The man got flustered and embarrassed. He said, "Now I will show you real willpower. I can show you that someone can be in love without having his love fulfilled, without even trying to have his love fulfilled, and that he can still be happy and do everything he should." He then walked away.
Dream #2
Black and white footage rolling, as if part of a documentary. The narrator's voice that of a woman or a young boy or girl. The first view apparently of the entrance to an Egyptian tomb. A smooth wall with an ornate, horseshoe-shaped doorway. From the doorway pursed a flood of hard debris.
The narrator spoke about how this place had originally been covered in debris, soil, and rocks, and had looked like a mountain, even though she (?) knew that this place had been here all along. She may have spoken about how good a job had been done of clearing the space out.
The view was now of the cave/hall just inside the entrance to the tomb. The floor and ceiling were of brick/stone and were wide and smooth and may have met, in a flat ellipse shape.
The view was like the lung-lining in the film Fantastic Voyage.
There was now a view from a point farther in through this hall, looking backward toward the doorway. A few men, spaced far apart from each other, walked through the wide passageway. The men looked and were dressed like miners.
The floor began undulating in small, separate rolls, as if there were a gentle earthquake or as if the floor were becoming alive. The men now fell into the floor, as if the hard stones which made the floor were actually quicksand. There seemed to be no panic about this.
Dream #3
I was in "my mom's house" in the bright daytime. I was all by myself. My mom put me in charge of watching the house while she was away. In particular, she asked me to keep people out of the house.
I walked to the front door. I knew my mom had told me to keep the front door closed. But, I thought, since the screen door also had a lock on it, I would keep the front door open and close and lock the screen door.
I walked to the door and looked outside. The day was incredibly colorful, with some parts somewhere in the landscape as bright as Galle glass.
I tested the screen door and found that the lock didn't work at all. You could simply push on the door and it would open. I was a little nervous, as if I had already left the front door opened and unlocked for long enough to compromise the integrity of my mother's house.
Dream #4
I was in a museum. I may have just come out of an exhibit that was partly Egyptian and partly something else. I stood in a darkish "lobby"-type area -- dark walled like the gems section of the American Museum of Natural History.
To my right was a staircase upward. The staircase was thin, painted sky blue with white trim and banisters, and looked like something in an old Pennsylvania Dutch house. I might possibly have remembered that up that way was another Egyptian exhibit -- one which hadn't been disappointingly remodeled (as, apparently, the one I'd just been to had been).
I climbed the stairs. I was now in an almost completely dark, dark-walled room. Somewhere ahead of me, on a wall to my right, was a video screen, which may have been showing only a black screen, but which gave off a small amount of light.
To my right I now saw an Egyptian bust at the top of a black staircase. A spotlight lit the bust. The bust was tannish white, as if made of impure (?) white quartz, and outlined in black over a very dark blue for the eyes, beard (?), and crown/headdress.
I thought, This is what I was looking for. I walked to the foot of the staircase. At the foot was a small, black bust. Its pedestal was set into the first couple steps of the stairway, so that it divided the stairway for those steps. The bust was a pharaoh image (like the Hatsheput (?) at the Brooklyn Museum of Art (where I had gone in waking life on the previous day)). The bust had no nose.
I continued up the steps. At the top was now a different bust, unlike anything Egyptian I had ever seen. The bust was a pharaoh image, in completely clear crystal material, with all the features and the lines of the pharaoh's head in a beautiful deep blue. The image wasn't lit. The only light which fell on it was ambient light from some area beyond the entrance to this exhibit. The sculpture was small, the bust being maybe nine inches tall.
From the left side of the bust was a thin rectangle, maybe twelve inches long, of the pure, clear crystal. The whole sculpture was balanced as if this long rectangle were resting on a tiny podium, so that the whole sculpture angled down from there.
I looked at the title card, which was black with white lettering. The card said that the clear material was "pure Hargrove."
I began hearing heavy breathing, as if it were right in my ears. (I woke to some noise like heavy breating. I'm not sure what it was. It could have been my own heavy breathing. It could also have been something outside my apartment, in the hallway, where I may have heard the shuffling of feet up the stairs.)
Dream #5
I was standing in line somewhere like a convenience store. I had gotten the things I was looking for. I stood in line, but a few people walked ahead of me. The people were all old women, and the line was only loosely formed, anyway, so I didn't mind very much mind being cut ahead of. The convenience store was messy but comfortable-looking, possibly due to the warm-yellow winter light coming in from outside.
One of the key figures at my company, ML, now got in line ahead of me. I didn't mind him, either. He might have noticed me. I wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't think of anything to say.
I now sat in a strange place which was possibly supposed to be a living room. The floor was smooth, like some futuristic plastic, and it sloped downwards. I was with a few other people, friends or family, including ML. We were all watching a TV which was down low on the ground, possibly attached to a weird wiry device. We all sat or sprawled along the floor.
I kept losing track of ML's identity in my mind -- forgetting who he was.
As the show we were watching, Dr. Strangelove, started, the first view was of Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove. He didn't say anything, but he was making a strange, awkward, serious expression. I was laughing out loud.
I now looked back at ML. Was he Peter Sellers? Was he a friend of Peter Sellers? I thought I'd ask him what Peter Sellers had been like. But then I realized that ML hadn't known Peter Sellers at all. I wanted to talk with ML. But I had no idea what to talk about.
Dream #6
I was in a space like an outdoor area that looked like it was indoors. There was a partly-constructed house that may have been fully constructed. To the right of this house was another place, which may have been something like a collection of cubicles in an open-walled structure. To the left of the house was something like an office -- just one office -- which may have been housed by a shed-like structure.
The ground through all this area was something like grey gravel. My boss BS had sent me here to check out how some of our business would work, to make sure our new conditions would be alright. As I got there, a group of rich people, led by a guide who may also have been rich, also arrived. The rich people were all old and white and they wore jeans and nice, but light, jackets.
I had checked out something with a phone cable in the cubicle structure and was now hammering some nails into the roof of the central house. (I had also, probably, at some point, been nailing a tiny wheel, like a ship's steering wheel, but only about two inches in diameter, onto the edge of the roof.)
The rich people climbed up onto the roof and talked all around me, as if I didn't matter at all, as if I was just some idiot. I thought, I'm their equals. They don't even realize it. This place is being built for me. Just because I'm helping out with its construction doesn't mean I'm just some idiot.
But now I had my doubts. Maybe BS was planning to demote me.
A prettyish woman, a little overweight, with tannish skin and long, black hair, had climbed up the ladder to check something and then climbed back down to go to the shed office. BS had told me about her. BS' company and one other company would be working heree. The woman was an assistant from the other company. She would be like an assistant and receptionist for both companies.
I was kind of attracted to the woman. I thought I would go ask her if she'd like me to turn on some music -- in my mind's eye I could see a silver boombox somewhere nearby.
Dream #1
A scene like in a movie or a TV show. A barroom. A bunch of military men were gathered together, possibly after the test-flight of some new jets. The lighting in the bar was somehow very pale and stagey.
A young man who looked like Ron Howard when he was on Happy Days stood by a white, square column. Another, older man came up to him. He slung his right arm up against the column, to kind of get close to the young man, as if he were trying to hit on him.
I was now the young man. I thought, Well, I'm not attracted to this guy. The man got flustered and embarrassed. He said, "Now I will show you real willpower. I can show you that someone can be in love without having his love fulfilled, without even trying to have his love fulfilled, and that he can still be happy and do everything he should." He then walked away.
Dream #2
Black and white footage rolling, as if part of a documentary. The narrator's voice that of a woman or a young boy or girl. The first view apparently of the entrance to an Egyptian tomb. A smooth wall with an ornate, horseshoe-shaped doorway. From the doorway pursed a flood of hard debris.
The narrator spoke about how this place had originally been covered in debris, soil, and rocks, and had looked like a mountain, even though she (?) knew that this place had been here all along. She may have spoken about how good a job had been done of clearing the space out.
The view was now of the cave/hall just inside the entrance to the tomb. The floor and ceiling were of brick/stone and were wide and smooth and may have met, in a flat ellipse shape.
The view was like the lung-lining in the film Fantastic Voyage.
There was now a view from a point farther in through this hall, looking backward toward the doorway. A few men, spaced far apart from each other, walked through the wide passageway. The men looked and were dressed like miners.
The floor began undulating in small, separate rolls, as if there were a gentle earthquake or as if the floor were becoming alive. The men now fell into the floor, as if the hard stones which made the floor were actually quicksand. There seemed to be no panic about this.
Dream #3
I was in "my mom's house" in the bright daytime. I was all by myself. My mom put me in charge of watching the house while she was away. In particular, she asked me to keep people out of the house.
I walked to the front door. I knew my mom had told me to keep the front door closed. But, I thought, since the screen door also had a lock on it, I would keep the front door open and close and lock the screen door.
I walked to the door and looked outside. The day was incredibly colorful, with some parts somewhere in the landscape as bright as Galle glass.
I tested the screen door and found that the lock didn't work at all. You could simply push on the door and it would open. I was a little nervous, as if I had already left the front door opened and unlocked for long enough to compromise the integrity of my mother's house.
Dream #4
I was in a museum. I may have just come out of an exhibit that was partly Egyptian and partly something else. I stood in a darkish "lobby"-type area -- dark walled like the gems section of the American Museum of Natural History.
To my right was a staircase upward. The staircase was thin, painted sky blue with white trim and banisters, and looked like something in an old Pennsylvania Dutch house. I might possibly have remembered that up that way was another Egyptian exhibit -- one which hadn't been disappointingly remodeled (as, apparently, the one I'd just been to had been).
I climbed the stairs. I was now in an almost completely dark, dark-walled room. Somewhere ahead of me, on a wall to my right, was a video screen, which may have been showing only a black screen, but which gave off a small amount of light.
To my right I now saw an Egyptian bust at the top of a black staircase. A spotlight lit the bust. The bust was tannish white, as if made of impure (?) white quartz, and outlined in black over a very dark blue for the eyes, beard (?), and crown/headdress.
I thought, This is what I was looking for. I walked to the foot of the staircase. At the foot was a small, black bust. Its pedestal was set into the first couple steps of the stairway, so that it divided the stairway for those steps. The bust was a pharaoh image (like the Hatsheput (?) at the Brooklyn Museum of Art (where I had gone in waking life on the previous day)). The bust had no nose.
I continued up the steps. At the top was now a different bust, unlike anything Egyptian I had ever seen. The bust was a pharaoh image, in completely clear crystal material, with all the features and the lines of the pharaoh's head in a beautiful deep blue. The image wasn't lit. The only light which fell on it was ambient light from some area beyond the entrance to this exhibit. The sculpture was small, the bust being maybe nine inches tall.
From the left side of the bust was a thin rectangle, maybe twelve inches long, of the pure, clear crystal. The whole sculpture was balanced as if this long rectangle were resting on a tiny podium, so that the whole sculpture angled down from there.
I looked at the title card, which was black with white lettering. The card said that the clear material was "pure Hargrove."
I began hearing heavy breathing, as if it were right in my ears. (I woke to some noise like heavy breating. I'm not sure what it was. It could have been my own heavy breathing. It could also have been something outside my apartment, in the hallway, where I may have heard the shuffling of feet up the stairs.)
Dream #5
I was standing in line somewhere like a convenience store. I had gotten the things I was looking for. I stood in line, but a few people walked ahead of me. The people were all old women, and the line was only loosely formed, anyway, so I didn't mind very much mind being cut ahead of. The convenience store was messy but comfortable-looking, possibly due to the warm-yellow winter light coming in from outside.
One of the key figures at my company, ML, now got in line ahead of me. I didn't mind him, either. He might have noticed me. I wanted to talk to him, but I couldn't think of anything to say.
I now sat in a strange place which was possibly supposed to be a living room. The floor was smooth, like some futuristic plastic, and it sloped downwards. I was with a few other people, friends or family, including ML. We were all watching a TV which was down low on the ground, possibly attached to a weird wiry device. We all sat or sprawled along the floor.
I kept losing track of ML's identity in my mind -- forgetting who he was.
As the show we were watching, Dr. Strangelove, started, the first view was of Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove. He didn't say anything, but he was making a strange, awkward, serious expression. I was laughing out loud.
I now looked back at ML. Was he Peter Sellers? Was he a friend of Peter Sellers? I thought I'd ask him what Peter Sellers had been like. But then I realized that ML hadn't known Peter Sellers at all. I wanted to talk with ML. But I had no idea what to talk about.
Dream #6
I was in a space like an outdoor area that looked like it was indoors. There was a partly-constructed house that may have been fully constructed. To the right of this house was another place, which may have been something like a collection of cubicles in an open-walled structure. To the left of the house was something like an office -- just one office -- which may have been housed by a shed-like structure.
The ground through all this area was something like grey gravel. My boss BS had sent me here to check out how some of our business would work, to make sure our new conditions would be alright. As I got there, a group of rich people, led by a guide who may also have been rich, also arrived. The rich people were all old and white and they wore jeans and nice, but light, jackets.
I had checked out something with a phone cable in the cubicle structure and was now hammering some nails into the roof of the central house. (I had also, probably, at some point, been nailing a tiny wheel, like a ship's steering wheel, but only about two inches in diameter, onto the edge of the roof.)
The rich people climbed up onto the roof and talked all around me, as if I didn't matter at all, as if I was just some idiot. I thought, I'm their equals. They don't even realize it. This place is being built for me. Just because I'm helping out with its construction doesn't mean I'm just some idiot.
But now I had my doubts. Maybe BS was planning to demote me.
A prettyish woman, a little overweight, with tannish skin and long, black hair, had climbed up the ladder to check something and then climbed back down to go to the shed office. BS had told me about her. BS' company and one other company would be working heree. The woman was an assistant from the other company. She would be like an assistant and receptionist for both companies.
I was kind of attracted to the woman. I thought I would go ask her if she'd like me to turn on some music -- in my mind's eye I could see a silver boombox somewhere nearby.
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