(Entered in paper journal at 7:10 AM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
It was daytime. I walked through a sports stadium the diameter of which was maybe four times greater than normal. The bleachers may even have rolled up and down like hills. The field was minuscule compared to the bleachers. I walked with a man who was somewhat unseen. He was probably taller than I, white, with tanned skin, long, brown-blonde hair, and a beard.
We had been walking toward the edge of the gigantic stadium. Now we stopped and turned back, toward its center. I looked along the edge, counterclockwise, and almost mentioned that sometimes over this area I had seen B-2 bombers. Bu then I thought not to mention it, hat that was a special occurrence I should keep to myself. Instead I mentioned that we might see jets in this area.
Suddenly two jets flew over us. They flew low before us, over us, and behind us. They each made a "sonic boom," which was a kind of mellow sound. The jets looked like F-86s with stubby, X-15-like wings. The bodies were silver. The wings were a shimmery blue and purple.
A group of jets passed over our heads again, this time from behind us. They made the sonic booms. Then it seemed like a lot of jets flew overhead. As the sonic booms continued, my vision went out. The sonic booms became like a constant, soundless, brittle spasm in my ears.
Dream #2
I was with my brother at a picnic table at the end of a gravel driveway for a big, wood house in the middle of a foresty area. My brother had possibly been coming here to see a doctor or to get some medicine. I had been waiting for him out at the table. I might have had a bunch of random stuff with me, some of it in plastic bags.
My brother had come back to tell me he couldn't find the doctor. I went to the house. There was a side entrance leading down to the basement. I walked down the cement-walled stairwell and into the threshold of the basement.
I stood staring into the room. It was filthy. I didn't even want to step inside. In the opposite corner of the room from me was a TV, which was on. I stared at it, as if hypnotized.
A young, black man walked down the stairs. I got a little out of his way and asked him how he was doing. He nodded his head, as if being polite, but he gave me a smirky kind of look, as if he wondered why I was here.
It was now like I had taken my brother here because he was looking at a place to live. It would be a shared room in this basement. I thought, There's no way he's living here. If he lives here it will just be trouble with this guy.
I had already resolved that my brother shouldn't live here. But the way the guy had looked at me, s if he already suspected me of something, made me call out, "I don't think I'll take the room here. This was just a visit. I think I'll look at other places."
I went back to the picnic table. I told my brother we were ready to go. I pulled out my phone to call my mom and let her know we were coming back. But my phone was somehow broken. The screen on its back was blue, as if some bluish liquid had made up the electric screen but was no completely de-activated. The blue liquid had sloshed down to the bottom half.
I had somehow dialed a random number from my phone book. A woman answered. I tried to explain that I had called her accidentally. I was just sending out some signal to determine whether I could reach anybody.
I was in a room like a waiting room in a doctor's office. I might have been leaving. I was speaking with a nurse.
A black man walked in. He looked familiar. I thought perhaps we had been part of some group hospital thing. But I also felt like he was here just to follow me, as part of a group of people who suspected me of something.
The nurse asked the man, "Do I know you from somewhere?" The man didn't say much. It was the man's turn to be treated now. But I couldn't let the man go without knowing for sure that he wasn't following me.
The man and the nurse were down in some nice basement with tall ceilings, talking and laughing. I asked the man, "Where are you from? You didn't start coming here until I did. Are you following me?"
The man looked at me blankly, as if he thought I was a piece of trash who had no right to ask him a question. He then stood close to me, as if to scare me with the threat of fighting. He started telling me about his line of work. He sounded something like a manager for music groups. I told him so. He was kind of surprised. He seemed less angry at me.
I was getting reading to leave this place. My mom had dropped me off here. She had gotten back a while ago to pick me back up. But my appointment had been delayed, and now I needed to take a shower to wash off something like radioactive material. I felt bad that I had made my mom wait so long. I wished I could hurry.
I was now flying all over the room wherever I was. It was like the last basement, except it faced at a different angle. It was also more like a ski lodge. It was night. My nephews sat on some ledge by the stairway, waiting for me.
I descended and picked up my youngest nephew. He said, "I saw a snowman! I saw a snowman!" I was surprised to hear my nephew speak at all, let alone speak so well: he was only six months old. I asked my nephew about the snowman. In my mind I saw a plastic snowman figure.
The scene shifted to the backseat of a vehicle like a van. My "nephew" was now a little girl like my cousin B had been. She wore a pink dress and a pink sweater. She was telling me how she wished she could have kids. She was straddling me as I lay back, my head against the back of the driver's seat.
The girl said, "The only thing I'm worried about is people finding out I'm pregnant. If I get sick, I'll give myself away." But now she was getting sick. She tried to hold it in, but she unintentionally leaned over my right shoulder and threw up.
My aunt M, who had been driving, got mad and yelled, "My ex-husband sucks! My ex-husband sucks! My husband sucks! My husband sucks!"
My aunt's three daughters were now all in the car. I understood that my aunt was angry at the little girl for having gotten pregnant. But, instead of getting mad and yelling at the girl, was yelling about how bad their dads were, to make the girls feel bad.
Showing posts with label cousin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cousin. Show all posts
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
(7/21/08) pompeii new york; vuitton or saint laurent?; bicycle arms
(Entered in paper journal at 6:15 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn into Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was with a group of people, possibly scientists, looking over a river which ran through a range of hills. I don't know how we were there -- it was like we were disembodied, somehow.
Suddenly the view of everything went negative. In this negative view we saw lava flooding over the hills and through the river.
The view was normal again. The lava had quickly cooled, and the whole landscape was now a cinnamon-brown color, as if everything the lava had touched was itself now cooled lava. The Brooklyn Bridge was nearby. It, too, was cinnamon-brown. We flew over the bridge, as if we were in a helicopter.
Somebody mentioned that we were here to protect this area. Some people were trying to tear it all down. But we thought we needed to preserve it to show people what would happen if lava flowed through an area like this ever again.
Dream #2
I was out on a path in a foresty area. I knelt on the side of the path with a woman. The light was golden, dim, like it was late afternoon.
The woman (who may have looked like a young, thin version of my mother) was talking about how she didn't like herself or think she was beautiful since the man she loved had left her. Either I or another man may have told the woman how beautiful she was.
The woman and the other man were now walking back to a nearby wood building. The building was a school building. The woman was a teacher there. The man walking with the woman was the woman's new love interest. His name was XXXXX Saint Laurent. I followed the woman and man, but more like a camera, or a disembodied eye.
The woman said something like, "Thank you for giving me such confidence and making me feel beautiful."
The man was dressed very nicely. He looked like a businessman.
The woman opened the door. The two walked into the building. Right inside, in a small, dim hallway, stood the woman's old lover, whose name was Louis Vuitton. The man was taller than the other man, slightly better dressed, and altogether more elegant.
Louis Vuitton told the woman how he wanted her back and how he wanted to take the woman away from the "awful" life of a schoolteacher.
Vuitton saw Saint Laurent. My view was on Saint Laurent. I tried to convince myself that Saint Laurent was better for the woman than Vuitton. But I knew the woman would go with Vuitton, not Saint Laurent.
Dream #3
A young boy like my oldest cousin (who was, in waking life, my best friend through childhood) wanted to sneak into some special compartment on the subway. He and I -- I was also a young boy -- got onto the train.
The boy spoke to the conductor about his desire. The conductor told the boy he would give the boy an operation. The conductor would cut both the boy's arms off and give him detachable arms. That way the boy could just barely fit into the small, pipe-like space he desired to fit into. I could see that the boy's detachable arms would look like bike parts with bone sockets.
I couldn't see how the boy would get back out of the space without any help. I was pretty certain that once the conductor had helped the boy into the space he would never let him out. The conductor would just leave the boy there, out of either cruelty or forgetfulness.
Dream #1
I was with a group of people, possibly scientists, looking over a river which ran through a range of hills. I don't know how we were there -- it was like we were disembodied, somehow.
Suddenly the view of everything went negative. In this negative view we saw lava flooding over the hills and through the river.
The view was normal again. The lava had quickly cooled, and the whole landscape was now a cinnamon-brown color, as if everything the lava had touched was itself now cooled lava. The Brooklyn Bridge was nearby. It, too, was cinnamon-brown. We flew over the bridge, as if we were in a helicopter.
Somebody mentioned that we were here to protect this area. Some people were trying to tear it all down. But we thought we needed to preserve it to show people what would happen if lava flowed through an area like this ever again.
Dream #2
I was out on a path in a foresty area. I knelt on the side of the path with a woman. The light was golden, dim, like it was late afternoon.
The woman (who may have looked like a young, thin version of my mother) was talking about how she didn't like herself or think she was beautiful since the man she loved had left her. Either I or another man may have told the woman how beautiful she was.
The woman and the other man were now walking back to a nearby wood building. The building was a school building. The woman was a teacher there. The man walking with the woman was the woman's new love interest. His name was XXXXX Saint Laurent. I followed the woman and man, but more like a camera, or a disembodied eye.
The woman said something like, "Thank you for giving me such confidence and making me feel beautiful."
The man was dressed very nicely. He looked like a businessman.
The woman opened the door. The two walked into the building. Right inside, in a small, dim hallway, stood the woman's old lover, whose name was Louis Vuitton. The man was taller than the other man, slightly better dressed, and altogether more elegant.
Louis Vuitton told the woman how he wanted her back and how he wanted to take the woman away from the "awful" life of a schoolteacher.
Vuitton saw Saint Laurent. My view was on Saint Laurent. I tried to convince myself that Saint Laurent was better for the woman than Vuitton. But I knew the woman would go with Vuitton, not Saint Laurent.
Dream #3
A young boy like my oldest cousin (who was, in waking life, my best friend through childhood) wanted to sneak into some special compartment on the subway. He and I -- I was also a young boy -- got onto the train.
The boy spoke to the conductor about his desire. The conductor told the boy he would give the boy an operation. The conductor would cut both the boy's arms off and give him detachable arms. That way the boy could just barely fit into the small, pipe-like space he desired to fit into. I could see that the boy's detachable arms would look like bike parts with bone sockets.
I couldn't see how the boy would get back out of the space without any help. I was pretty certain that once the conductor had helped the boy into the space he would never let him out. The conductor would just leave the boy there, out of either cruelty or forgetfulness.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
(1/28/10) dance how you want; hungry or not?; uncle not getting better; her first lesbian lover
(Entered in paper journal at 7:10 AM at the Starbucks at 49th and Madison Avenue, in Manhattan, right across the street from where my office was at the time.)
Dream #1
I was in a park-like area, like the plaza area like the MetroTech Commons park in Brooklyn, except hillier, with the rolling ground covered with Belgian blocks or stone tiles.
I was listening to music that I was playing on a boombox. I danced to the music in a slow, backward and forward "locomotion" movement. I smiled and cocked my head up and down like I was happy with myself, like I thought I was smooth and impressive. I suddenly got afraid that I would go crazy if I allowed myself to act like this, or that, at the least, people would think I was crazy.
My great grandmother appeared before me. She was short: she stood up to about my chest. I may have told her what I was doing, as if I was uncertain whether I should be doing it. My great grandma told me, "Well, keep doing it! Enjoy! Have a good time!" My great grandma walked away. I think we were planning to meet each other again at some point.
The boombox was now playing either classical music or an NPR-type show. I jumped around among Belgian blocks which had been pushed upward like little stubs. I may have thought of myself as a little bird while I did this. I was moving my way around a little planting bed with a small shrub-like a boxwood in the center.
A couple of girls sat at a green-painted, metal table to the right of the planting bed. They may have been talking about something having to do with their job. I was hopping around naively, as if I were oblivious, like a child, to what the women could were talking about. But I actually was connecting to the things they were talking about.
Dream #2
I was at my great grandmother's house, in the kitchen. The light may have been a bit brighter and warmer than usual. I stood before or sat at the tall stool before the kitchen counter. My great grandma came (from the dining room, to my left?) and stood across the counter from me. She told me that I must be hungry. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. She may have offered a grilled cheese sandwich.
I was indecisive. I thought that I was hungry, but that I'd possibly be smarter waiting to eat until some dinner that I was heading to later.
My great grandma got a little annoyed with me and asked me, "Are you hungry or are you not hungry?" She was now mixing something like oatmeal in a big, black pot. The oatmeal looked gooey, like it already had milk in it, and i had red strips in it, which I thought of as something sweet, like long strips of stuff like the pink pebbles in Pebbles cereal. But the strips also looked like long strips of tomatoes or red peppers or even meat.
I told my great grandma that I was hungry. My great grandma may either have spooned some oatmeal into a bowl or left the iron pot in front of me. She then walked into the living room. I thought that I really didn't want to eat the oatmeal if it had tomatoes or meat in it.
I walked into the living room. A couple of my family members, at least my mom and brother, were in the living room. My mom sat in my great grandma's usual favorite chair. My brother was farther back in the room. Looking out the front window, I could see that it was night.
My great grandma opened the front door and walked out. She may have been bundled up in a padded, beige jacked and a wool cap, so that she looked like a little kid. She said she was going somewhere. The TV was near the door, instead of farther back, on the left side of the room, as it would have been in waking life, when my great grandma was alive.
The TV started showing a program about my cousin N, who had done a lot of really good stuff, apparently, with cars or a car company. I and my family members were very proud of N. We wanted my great grandma to see.
I called to my great grandma to catch her before she headed out the door. But she didn't seem to hear. She kept moving, very slowly, apparently, out the door. I called louder, but she still didn't hear. Finally I just walked up to her, grabbed her, pulled her back into the house, and forced her to look at the TV.
As I held my great grandma, I was kneeling down, so that I had to reach up to get my arms around her waist. I basically had my great grandma pinned in place. I was holding her so that her arms were pinned to her sides.
Dream #3
I was at "my dad's house." I sat at or stood before an oval dining table of dark wood. The table was covered over in cluttered papers. The floor around the table was similarly cluttered. The carpet was grey. The room was dim. To my left may have been either a large window or a sliding glass door.
My dad sat before me on a stool before something like a breakfast bar. The breakfast bar was kind of incongruous in its setting, being nowhere near the kitchen, and kind of serving to separate the dining table from the living room.
My dad started talking to me about some football game between the Indianapolis Colts and the New Orleans Saints. I laughed and listened, as if I knew what my dad was talking about. But then he started asking me about specific players. I didn't admit that I had no idea who they were, but my kind of blank responses to his questions gave me away.
My uncle R came into the room. My dad and uncle may have decided that it was time to go. We left. My uncle R was much taller than usual, and thin. We walked through a hallway, which had glass walls on the other side of which were restaurants and shops.
My dad asked my uncle how he was doing, if he was getting any better. My uncle said he didn't think he was. My uncle said he needed to stop and go to the restroom. We stopped outside a restaurant which may have been a Chinese or Indian restaurant.
My dad and I stood in a little alcove before the door. Two small steps led up to the glass door of the restaurant. The alcove was just a little square, maybe six inches by six inches. The walls of the alcove were yellow and stucco-like. There may have been a small table with a potted plant on it. Just inside the door of the restaurant were a curtain of little red lights.
My dad and I stood silently for a moment. Finally I asked my dad, "Do you think Uncle R will get better?" My dad had possibly been looking at the wall, his left profile to me.
We now stood in a different hallway. One wall was still a window-wall to the restaurant. The wall across the hallway was possibly, however, to the outside. My dad shook his head sadly, to tell me that no, my uncle R would no get better.
My dad still looked "like" my dad, but he was much shorter, white, with pale blue eyes and pale, grey hair. He now acted like a little kid, or even like a little puppy. He began cuddling with me, hopping all over me. He was, I thought, trying to make it clear that he was happy to see me.
(At this point I stopped my paper journal entry so I could head into work. I then restarted my paper journal entry at 8:30 PM, when I got back on the B-train into Brooklyn, after work.)
Dream #4
A woman sat in a restaurant ora cafe. Something suddenly reminded her of a former lover of hers. She caught her breath as if thinking how silly it was to have forgotten. The woman was a fair-skinned, white woman with slight, chestnut-brown hair. The restaurant she sat in was dim.
After recalling her lover, the woman remembered a scene with her lover. The scene took place in a dark room, lit only by a candle or two. The two women were on a bed. The woman's lover was an Asian woman with long, silky, black hair. She wore a pink teddy with black lace trim. The teddy may have been pulled down below her breasts. The lover knelt on the bed, her legs wide apart, and arched her breasts up in ecstasy. The woman may not have been visible.
The woman was now in a bookstore with another woman. The bookstore was lit with fluorescent light. The store was wide, with high ceilings. The shelves were all pretty close together. They were tall, made of a kind of cheap wood, dented or chipped a little, or with the finish kind of wearing off. The place had a run-down feel, like an old public library.
The two women were far back in the shelves. They spoke with one another either in French or in English with French accents. Their words were palpable, very soothing, as if I were haring them from under a blanket while I had a cold.
The women walked up to the front desk. A very tall man walked up and stood beside them, across the counter from the cashier. The man was possibly overweight, a little pear-shaped, with long, scraggly-curly, grey hair. He may have worn drab, green and black clothing.
The man tried to strike up a conversation with the women, ostensibly about the books they were buying. But the woman asked her fiend, loudly enough to make it understood she wanted the man to hear, but also with an intonation of mock-embarrassment, "Oh, do you think I should tell him about this book?"
The friend said, "Oh -- you mean that it was the book you read with --"
The woman interrupted, "The book I read with my first --"
I knew that the woman would next say, "With my first lesbian lover."
Dream #1
I was in a park-like area, like the plaza area like the MetroTech Commons park in Brooklyn, except hillier, with the rolling ground covered with Belgian blocks or stone tiles.
I was listening to music that I was playing on a boombox. I danced to the music in a slow, backward and forward "locomotion" movement. I smiled and cocked my head up and down like I was happy with myself, like I thought I was smooth and impressive. I suddenly got afraid that I would go crazy if I allowed myself to act like this, or that, at the least, people would think I was crazy.
My great grandmother appeared before me. She was short: she stood up to about my chest. I may have told her what I was doing, as if I was uncertain whether I should be doing it. My great grandma told me, "Well, keep doing it! Enjoy! Have a good time!" My great grandma walked away. I think we were planning to meet each other again at some point.
The boombox was now playing either classical music or an NPR-type show. I jumped around among Belgian blocks which had been pushed upward like little stubs. I may have thought of myself as a little bird while I did this. I was moving my way around a little planting bed with a small shrub-like a boxwood in the center.
A couple of girls sat at a green-painted, metal table to the right of the planting bed. They may have been talking about something having to do with their job. I was hopping around naively, as if I were oblivious, like a child, to what the women could were talking about. But I actually was connecting to the things they were talking about.
Dream #2
I was at my great grandmother's house, in the kitchen. The light may have been a bit brighter and warmer than usual. I stood before or sat at the tall stool before the kitchen counter. My great grandma came (from the dining room, to my left?) and stood across the counter from me. She told me that I must be hungry. She asked me if I wanted something to eat. She may have offered a grilled cheese sandwich.
I was indecisive. I thought that I was hungry, but that I'd possibly be smarter waiting to eat until some dinner that I was heading to later.
My great grandma got a little annoyed with me and asked me, "Are you hungry or are you not hungry?" She was now mixing something like oatmeal in a big, black pot. The oatmeal looked gooey, like it already had milk in it, and i had red strips in it, which I thought of as something sweet, like long strips of stuff like the pink pebbles in Pebbles cereal. But the strips also looked like long strips of tomatoes or red peppers or even meat.
I told my great grandma that I was hungry. My great grandma may either have spooned some oatmeal into a bowl or left the iron pot in front of me. She then walked into the living room. I thought that I really didn't want to eat the oatmeal if it had tomatoes or meat in it.
I walked into the living room. A couple of my family members, at least my mom and brother, were in the living room. My mom sat in my great grandma's usual favorite chair. My brother was farther back in the room. Looking out the front window, I could see that it was night.
My great grandma opened the front door and walked out. She may have been bundled up in a padded, beige jacked and a wool cap, so that she looked like a little kid. She said she was going somewhere. The TV was near the door, instead of farther back, on the left side of the room, as it would have been in waking life, when my great grandma was alive.
The TV started showing a program about my cousin N, who had done a lot of really good stuff, apparently, with cars or a car company. I and my family members were very proud of N. We wanted my great grandma to see.
I called to my great grandma to catch her before she headed out the door. But she didn't seem to hear. She kept moving, very slowly, apparently, out the door. I called louder, but she still didn't hear. Finally I just walked up to her, grabbed her, pulled her back into the house, and forced her to look at the TV.
As I held my great grandma, I was kneeling down, so that I had to reach up to get my arms around her waist. I basically had my great grandma pinned in place. I was holding her so that her arms were pinned to her sides.
Dream #3
I was at "my dad's house." I sat at or stood before an oval dining table of dark wood. The table was covered over in cluttered papers. The floor around the table was similarly cluttered. The carpet was grey. The room was dim. To my left may have been either a large window or a sliding glass door.
My dad sat before me on a stool before something like a breakfast bar. The breakfast bar was kind of incongruous in its setting, being nowhere near the kitchen, and kind of serving to separate the dining table from the living room.
My dad started talking to me about some football game between the Indianapolis Colts and the New Orleans Saints. I laughed and listened, as if I knew what my dad was talking about. But then he started asking me about specific players. I didn't admit that I had no idea who they were, but my kind of blank responses to his questions gave me away.
My uncle R came into the room. My dad and uncle may have decided that it was time to go. We left. My uncle R was much taller than usual, and thin. We walked through a hallway, which had glass walls on the other side of which were restaurants and shops.
My dad asked my uncle how he was doing, if he was getting any better. My uncle said he didn't think he was. My uncle said he needed to stop and go to the restroom. We stopped outside a restaurant which may have been a Chinese or Indian restaurant.
My dad and I stood in a little alcove before the door. Two small steps led up to the glass door of the restaurant. The alcove was just a little square, maybe six inches by six inches. The walls of the alcove were yellow and stucco-like. There may have been a small table with a potted plant on it. Just inside the door of the restaurant were a curtain of little red lights.
My dad and I stood silently for a moment. Finally I asked my dad, "Do you think Uncle R will get better?" My dad had possibly been looking at the wall, his left profile to me.
We now stood in a different hallway. One wall was still a window-wall to the restaurant. The wall across the hallway was possibly, however, to the outside. My dad shook his head sadly, to tell me that no, my uncle R would no get better.
My dad still looked "like" my dad, but he was much shorter, white, with pale blue eyes and pale, grey hair. He now acted like a little kid, or even like a little puppy. He began cuddling with me, hopping all over me. He was, I thought, trying to make it clear that he was happy to see me.
(At this point I stopped my paper journal entry so I could head into work. I then restarted my paper journal entry at 8:30 PM, when I got back on the B-train into Brooklyn, after work.)
Dream #4
A woman sat in a restaurant ora cafe. Something suddenly reminded her of a former lover of hers. She caught her breath as if thinking how silly it was to have forgotten. The woman was a fair-skinned, white woman with slight, chestnut-brown hair. The restaurant she sat in was dim.
After recalling her lover, the woman remembered a scene with her lover. The scene took place in a dark room, lit only by a candle or two. The two women were on a bed. The woman's lover was an Asian woman with long, silky, black hair. She wore a pink teddy with black lace trim. The teddy may have been pulled down below her breasts. The lover knelt on the bed, her legs wide apart, and arched her breasts up in ecstasy. The woman may not have been visible.
The woman was now in a bookstore with another woman. The bookstore was lit with fluorescent light. The store was wide, with high ceilings. The shelves were all pretty close together. They were tall, made of a kind of cheap wood, dented or chipped a little, or with the finish kind of wearing off. The place had a run-down feel, like an old public library.
The two women were far back in the shelves. They spoke with one another either in French or in English with French accents. Their words were palpable, very soothing, as if I were haring them from under a blanket while I had a cold.
The women walked up to the front desk. A very tall man walked up and stood beside them, across the counter from the cashier. The man was possibly overweight, a little pear-shaped, with long, scraggly-curly, grey hair. He may have worn drab, green and black clothing.
The man tried to strike up a conversation with the women, ostensibly about the books they were buying. But the woman asked her fiend, loudly enough to make it understood she wanted the man to hear, but also with an intonation of mock-embarrassment, "Oh, do you think I should tell him about this book?"
The friend said, "Oh -- you mean that it was the book you read with --"
The woman interrupted, "The book I read with my first --"
I knew that the woman would next say, "With my first lesbian lover."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)