(3/16/08) flying accident; stalking and flying; military forgetfulness; construction event; blue room; out of here

(Entered in paper journal at 8:11 AM at "laundromat" -- possibly the Clean Rite laundromat on Empire Boulevard and Montgomery Street in Brooklyn?)

Dream #1

I was in a vehicle like a bus or a big van that may have been driven by my mom. We drove through some area like a military base at night. At times the light was like moonlight. At other times it was like streetlamp light. We drove past a couple rows of jets like SR-71s with the angularity of F-117s.

I told my mom I had to go somewhere before I went to bed. But my mom told me to go straight to be so I wouldn't be tired for flying the next day.

I had a view of the next day. I had been flying a jet. When I was aiming straight up in the air, some accident occurred which had killed two copilots who had sat behind me. I tried to convince myself that the accident hadn't been my fault and that it hadn't happened due to the fact that I had flown tired.

Dream #2

I was in the lobby of a theater building in a university. Some show was wrapped up for the night. Only my co-worker BR and I were left in the lobby, which was half lit. I told BR congratulations, that he had done a good job (I had been an audience member). Then my senior co-worker, and BR's old boss, RO, came out. I told RO congratulations as well.

I didn't want to take up BR's or RO's time, so I quickly walked out the door. RO followed. I didn't want RO to think that I was tagging along after him, so I hurried down the steps down to the sidewalk, even sliding down the railing toward the end. It was night and raining. Cars lined the curbs, and there were a few people walking around.

I ran forward and thrust my right fist before me. I wondered why I would do a move as childish as that. Suddenly I was flying. I flew across the road and over into an area like a densely wooded park.

My eyes got more and more clouded by the rain. I could barely open my eyes. I couldn't quite believe I was flying. I thought I should direct myself back home, just to give myself a focus so I wouldn't lose my flight through excitement. But with my eyes closed I wasn't even sure what direction I was headed in. I knew I was flying over an area like a cemetery in my hometown.

I forced myself to open my eyes. I was suddenly in the backseat of an SUV. My mom drove. It was night and raining. We wee on a moderately busy highway, about to turn off onto an exit. My mom explained how we had gone slightly out of the way to get onto this highway, which could get us home much more quickly.

Dream #3

I was walking out of a place like a coliseum at night, probably with my mom.We had seen a presentation by a man who was praised for his moral strength. We walked through the dim foyer or front outside area, walking through bars of orange light pouring through from the inside from windows on the doors.

I remembered my cousin T talking about how anything that made him a good man had come from his experience in the Army. I felt bad that I hadn't gone into military service. But then I thought, Did T ever go into the Army? I don't remember that. Am I that out of touch with my families' lives?

My mom and I were outside in the dark and the dim, orange streetlamp light. A wet snow was falling. I thought, Hasn't my mom always said that she was pregnant with me when she went to Army boot camp? So I guess I have been in the Army! My mom and I walked into the doors of another arena.

Dream #4

I was in the hallway of a building like a high school building. I had walked out of one of the classrooms. The place was busy with people from my work. Most of the people stood before another classroom.

I saw my co-worker JC close by. I felt that JC had snubbed me at some point. I didn't want to see her. I was still mad at her. I instinctively sighed, "Oh, no!" when I saw her.

I walked into a bathroom nearby, to avoid JC. The bathroom was huge. It had the look of a warehouse. I stood there for a moment, thinking of how immaturely I had just acted toward JC.

I now stood outside during the daytime. I was on a pale-soiled, deserty hill. A group of workers were digging a trench and building a system of pipes, which was above and beside the trench (?). There were two or three pipes on top of one another, supported at points by concrete slabs. I took a lot of interest in this work.

I now stood on another hill, looking down on a running track of red, synthetic material, maybe two hundred feet below. All around the track the ground was torn up, and up on the hill where I stood the ground was similarly upturned.

Behind me and to my left were a small group of women who may have been talking about JC. I tried not to listen to anything they said. I knew that an event important to JC, in the creation of which JC had taken part, would soon occur.

I had wanted to watch the event and to monitor the progress of the construction around the track. But now I thought I would stay away. My idea was to start walking the circuit I stood on at the top of the hill. I hoped it would take me long enough (in the distance it went down another hill and presumably took a short tour through a mountain range) so that by the time I got back, JC's event would be over.

But now an older man, someone like a supervisor of mine, came up to the group. He was tallish, thinnish, wiry, and white with reddish skin. He wore a khaki shirt and slacks, a tan cap, and black sunglasses. I didn't want the man to think I was here following JC, i.e. that I was here because I knew that JC would soon be here. I thought that would make the man think I was dangerous, like a stalker.

So I commented on the construction around the track. The man then commented on the construction of a nearby house. Only the foundation of the house had been laid. I told the man that the family (my family?) who would live in that house was fine where they were right now, in some place like a trailer set up on a frame like a folding bed frame.

The man and I now stood before this place. The man told me to kneel and look at the shelter. The man pointed out how weak the frame was. Almost crying, he said, "If a strong wind comes up -- and it'll happen! -- this frame will fold up and smash the family flat!"

(A break in the entry. I then resumed writing at 10:35 AM at the Flying Saucer cafe in Brooklyn.)

Dream #5

A boy and a mother stood in a deep-blue-lit living room, panicking as if they were drowning in a room full of water. Then suddenly they stood in a bathroom (the living room still visible) lit with regular incandescent light. The boy and mother were breathing regularly. I wondered (as if I were the boy) why the boy and mother had been so panicked.

Dream #6

I sat at a computer looking at a bunch of random scenes. The room I was in, maybe an office, was dim. One of my friends stood behind me, looking at the things I was looking at.

At some point the office was light again. It now looked like a science lab. On the computer screen were moving images of equipment in a room below us, which was also visible through a window in front of us.

One of the heads of my department, RF, walked up on my left side and pulled my mouse out of its socket. He sat back in a chair behind me. I turned my chair to see RF. RF said, "Did you think you'd get away with still working here? Did you think we wouldn't know you've already accepted an offer somewhere else? You're out of here!"

(1/21/10) the ghost and the murderess

Dream #1

I walked down a city sidewalk, on the left side of the street. It was early morning, dark, with a deep blue sky overhead. I came up to a taped-off area of sidewalk. To my right, behind the tape, was a big, heavy tower of something like scaffold. I looked up and saw a heavy load of something like thick boards or thick, metal plates hanging from a cord, as if the top of this tower were a crane.

I was afraid that the load would fall on me. I didn't cross the tape. I walked into the street, past the tower, then back to the sidewalk. But now I saw that there was another tower before me. I was still afraid that the load behind me would fall and crush me. But now I was also afraid that the load before me would crush me.

I flew up into the air. I was now level with the loads. The towers around the loads were like makeshift floors of wooden boards. The place felt very much like an active construction area. I floated between the two towers. Both towers seemed, now, to be set flush against the face of the building. The second tower stood near the corner of the building.

A tall, strong, round-bodied, round-headed, black man wearing overalls (no shirt?) walked around the corner. When I saw him, I started yelling things at him, things that I thought would make me sound like a ghost or a demon. I thought that I was invisible, but that I could still be heard. I was trying to scare the man, as if to pay him back for his having scared me.

The man seemed either not to hear me or to hear me only slightly. He stopped and looked forward, as if trying to figure out whether he actually was hearing something.

I was now in a kind of small, slightly shabby bedroom. The room was lit somewhat brightly by incandescent light. I was with someone else, possibly a woman. We were shuffling through a loose scattering of papers and pamphlets which lay on the bed. We either stood before or sat on the bed.

The papers and pamphlets were all about grotesque events, probably all murders and serial murders, and possibly all about one woman who had committed these murders. I looked through a number of these pamphlets. The text and margins were blue or red and looked like Chinese take-out menus or old Christian pamphlets for witnessing.

I picked up one pamphlet. A photo on the front showed a dead person's face. The face was black with decay. The skin of the face was shrunken with decay, but it also seemed to be stuffed into the mouth of the face. The head had a few strands of almost colorless, but not pale, blondeish hair.

I turned through the pages. Another photo showed a bone that had been broken in half and placed into a clear, crystal glass of water. The glass had a thick base of cut, niched crystal. I either read or knew that the murderess would take the bones of her victims and put them in water to clean off all the flesh, which the woman possibly thought of as the only evidence of her guilt.

I turned to another photo. It was of the woman. She, too, stood over a bed. She looked like a woman from the early twentieth or late nineteenth century. Her dress was very plain, long-sleeved, tight around the woman's top, with the skirt curtaining slightly outward. The woman's hairstyle was close, but "bunned" outward. The woman had a pale, oval face and wide, pale, severe eyes.

The woman started talking and moving. She was pointing to something on the bed, possibly the dead body the face of which was the subject of the first photo. The woman yelled something about how I'd discovered her and how I wasn't supposed to discover her.

I was suddenly afraid. I felt like I was in the woman's house right now, and like she was now sneaking around to get ready to kill me. But I was also afraid that, since I had seen so much about the woman, that the  murderous impulse would also infect me, and that I would soon be like her.