(1/25/05?) satanic pool; lightning television; tannencock; bad shoes for the marathon

(Entered in paper journal at 1 AM at home in Harlem.)

Dream 1

I don't remember all of it. I flew through some cemetery and avoided the pull of hungry spirits. I might have "remembered" talking to BN about how some insects like to suck your blood. And all of this may have happened twice, too.

I arrived at a Satanic temple. There was a pool or fountain, then a huge balcony of stone with two black, hornlike shapes on the sides of a narrow gate.

Inside the pool was a circle of people in white clothes and a crescent in goldenrod clothes. I said a fighting incantation, which wasn't to the Devil.

Now the first time something different but just as treacherous happened. The second time I called the forces of the people to rise up, to create sky-reaching columns of white and sky-height flowers of gold. But nobody moved.

For some reason I jumped into the pool. Three people had been there to kill me. But now they were my three female friends, who tried to reach me but were grabbed and held hostage. But now they were let go.

Now the pool was like a regular, old indoor pool. The woman were now someone like David Bowie.

Dream 2

I was in a car or train with my mom and brother. We were in a hilly part of the desert, which was crisscrossed by old steam trains. The sky was purple and thundery. In the backs of our seats were TVs. I was afraid even to be "driving," let alone to turn on the TVs, because of the thunder.

But my brother, who was now my crew mate MG, turned on the TV. But then he walked away. I had been talking bad about him. Now he didn't want to share his TV knowledge with me. But I eventually found a show we both liked. I hoped by watching it I could get him to come back.

Dream 3

I was in some dim upstairs art-workshop-type room with a group of people at widely spaced folding chairs and folding tables. Old paintings hung from the ceiling or were propped up on thin easels. A teacher who looked like Angelica Huston had just assigned us to come up with a small skit in reaction to the work we had just seen.

(After a couple skits?) a guy who looked like Owen Wilson stood and said he was going to give his sketch now, so all should be prepared. he walked out the door and was gone for a few seconds.

When he came back in, the teacher was indignant. She said, "That's just a lazy way of getting out of doing a sketch like everybody else."

I said, "No. He's doing a whole sketch based on the plot of a very popular children's book. He just needed to go outside to prepare."

She said, "Oh. That's a wonderful idea."

"Owen" had a bunch of blankets and a children's book in his arms.

Everything was now over. I was hiding somewhere in the workshop. I had gotten dressed in a woman's blue sweater, something like a pink scarf over that, and a maroon, satiny pair of boy-shorts. But someone had spotted me and said they already knew all about me. So I walked along a darkened area with light shining dimly on some tiered displays.

I headed to the bathroom. As I walked up to a urinal I saw, at the far end, Alfred Hitchcock walk out of what looked like a shower area. I waved at him with my right hand, then looked back down to the urinal, hoping Hitchcock wouldn't notice either that I was only half-dressed or that I was only dressed in women's clothes.

(Entered in paper journal at 7:30 AM at home in Harlem.)

Dream 4

I was running a marathon with everybody from my NYC Americorps program. None of our shoes fit and all of our laces were untied. we had to run a little slower just to keep our shoes on.

We finally got to the final track. The stadium was empty. MG and I were in the lead by a pretty good distance. I thought MG would bolt ahead. I thought he couldn't be having as much trouble with his shoes as I was, and that now he'd finally bolt to the finish. But he actually fell back.

I ran to the finish, which was actually down some stairs to the ramps for the levels of seating. All around me were Mexican workers with brooms, mops, and dustpans. None of them even paid attention to me.

(2/5/06) ghost ants; david bowie and the black man

(Entered in paper journal at 10:05 AM at Starbucks on 57th Street and 7th Avenue in Manhattan.)

Dream 1

I was somewhere like a national park visitor center or some camp center in the woods. I sat with my back against a tree. My legs were bare and bent up against my chest. Some ants, not many, but rather large, maybe two inches long, and colored like a bruising sweetgum leaf in late November, pink and purple, crawled near me and then up onto my legs.

The ants were going through a mating process. I had to gather them up while they were doing this. But I was too fascinated watching them to do anything. But now as they finished they dissolved, or rather deflated like dry husks and then fizzed away. I knew I had missed my chance to take their magic.

There were other ants, and these now crawled up on me. I thought, I have the chance to take the magic again. But I didn't want to touch the ants because I thought they were diseased. Also, these ants were clear, like soba noodles (?). I thought they were like ghosts of the ants that had already mated. These ants would walk up on my knees and "vomit" a thick, yellow glop out of their foreheads. Then they and the glop would fizz and spike violently.

Two "researchers" saw what was going on. They and I took samples of the fizz (this, by the way, was impossible -- the ants vanished in the fizz; the fizz didn't exist afterwards) in to a little, shed-like laboratory. I stood at a weird angle relative to the "researchers," like I was up in a corner of the room, looking down at them.

The researchers stood over a white, square, plastic tub of water. They figured either that the ants fizzed because of a disease or that they fizzed into a disease. If either of these hypotheses turned out positive, I was probably going to die from the disease.

The researchers dropped the fizz into the water. This may have been done by "pinching" water out of something like a plastic thermos-lid-like cup and then sprinkling the "pinched" water into the tub. The fizz created a violent fizzing on a small area in the center of the surface of the water. This really didn't mean anything, one way or the other -- yet.

I couldn't stay in the room any longer. I figured I was just going to die. I went out to find more ants. I wanted to prove they didn't have a disease.

Dream 2

I saw a video of David Bowie and a black man singing at a concert. the black man was large and had his head resting joyfully on David Bowie's left shoulder.

I now saw a newspaper photo of David Bowie being kissed and held by the black man. The black man didn't really want people to know about his relationship with David Bowie, but he also liked him, and they were "awesome" in concert.

Now David Bowie and the black man were singing a catchy song I didn't really like. The stage had a crystal-blue background against which everything looked really nice.

Now a bunch of famous people, mostly black, came out on stage. Some people came out on a long, low, chrome motorcycle. The chorus of the catchy song was repeated over and over. Now I saw it all as if from a far back, way up seat.

(7/31/06) fungeling or yuenlueng; wearing only thong panties to college; tom osborne and lake surfing

(Entered in paper journal at 6:08 AM on 4-train from Utica Avenue in Brooklyn to 59th Street in Manhattan.)

Dream 1

I was in a subway station that had something like the look of a stage to it. At the back end was a brown-painted wood wall with four doors. Across the wide way were staircases leading down to subways. I was looking for a certain train, but I couldn't find the right staircase.

I walked back out the doors. I "saw" somewhere, in some room like a security room or control room, maybe three black teenage boys. The boys were laughing at me because they had changed around the trains and tricked me.

I walked back through the doors, to the staircases. I went to a staircase down to my right. It went down a number of stories. A group of black kids came tumbling down toward me, trying to race me and beat me down the stairs. I began jumping over the railings until I even flew down through the openings between the cases and landed on the bottom floor.

I walked into a classroom where a few kids were waiting to be taught. I couldn't stop flying. I jumped from empty desk to empty desk. Eventually I was bounding, ten feet in the air. I made a half-circle around the large classroom and landed by the right wall midway through the classroom, looking up to the front, to a child by the chalkboard.

The child (a girl?) had written on the chalkboard about the technique I had just been practicing. She said the class already knew all about that. The technique was called something like "fungeling" or "yuenlueng."

Dream 2

My grandmother P drove me up to my new college dorm room. The room was at the top of a building, in a complex surrounded by a parking area. Some guys who lived next door to my new room saw me and started making faces with each other like they were plotting to give me trouble. The sky was grey, heavy, and cool.

I was about to get out of the car, but I saw I was only wearing blue thong panties. My grandma was about to drive off to find a parking space. I told her to wait for me and got back in the car, into the backseat.

As I changed my clothes, my grandma drove around the entirely empty lot to find a specific parking space. The space was numbered 35 or 53. I had such a feeling of awe as we pulled into that space.

Dream 3

I was in a room with a woman who was something like a screenwriting teacher to me. The woman was telling me that she didn't treat everybody as special as she treated me.

She said, "Everybody else is pretty normal, except XXXXX." (Tom Osborne?) "He actually has screenplays published."

Now "Tom Osborne" came in, very well dressed, looking a little like a young version of a person, CJ, who was on the board of a parks foundation I volunteered with in Brooklyn in waking life.

"Tom Osborne" shook my hand and asked, "When are you going to let me see your screenplay, Preemie?"

I stood up to get a copy out of my backpack. As I did, Tom disappeared and the room filled up with people, one of whom was my brother. He had bought Tom a lot new David Bowie CDs. When I saw that he'd bought Pin-Ups, I was impressed. But when my brother held the case up for me to see, it changed to a CD I'd never seen before. It looked like Magical Mystery Tour.

I was now outside, by a swampy lake. It was small, but it had big tides, and people were surfing in it. I got in and felt the pull of the tides.

I was now among a lot of people and piles of what eventually became Chex cereal. I was looking for a person or waiting for a person whom I was almost in love with -- he was almost like the "Tom Osborne" character again.

Another guy was waiting for Tom. The guy was black. He may have been a woman at first. He and I started "pretend kissing" -- then I kept trying to "real kiss" him, but I just ended up putting my tongue in his mouth in a lot of weird ways, eventually pulling out Chex with my tongue.

I was now sitting on a pile of Chex and chocolate Teddy Grahams. I stood up, saying I had to go, and that I was sorry I couldn't have seen Tom.

I saw a cemetery. I thought I really needed to go there. There were thick, granite crosses behind an iron fence. I walked toward the cemetery.

I was back to the swampy "beach." There were a lot of people surfing. I found a surfboard and floated it out with a group of girls to where "they thought" the tide was good (?). My surfboard was red, with a white fin, all flimsy like hollow plastic in a big-wheel tricycle.

I stood on the board (in this murky lake water, filled with moss!) and was surprised by how easy it was. Now a wave came. I rode with it into a swampy area full of young, whitish-barked trees. I was disappointed by my inability to direct myself to shore like everybody else.

I turned my surfboard around near an iron fence and was surprised by how easily the tide drifted me back out of the woods. But there were webs full of tiny, white spiders. I didn't want them to bite me or get on me. I drifted back out.

I was on shore. I went somewhere and talked to somebody and then headed toward home. I looked at the lake again -- this time a corner of it. Most of the people here were just standing in the water and enjoying the rushing of the tide. The water was full of moss.

I figured that if everybody else was having so much fun in the lake, I should get in, too. I got in. I was alone. But then XXXXX's wife (kind of like my coworker BK's wife, AK) was with me, teaching me about the tide. We were by a bridge. All the water sucked out under the bridge. XXXXX said she had made a boat.

We were in a room. XXXXX showed me the boat. She was pulling it out of a bag. The boat couldn't have been more than four feet long.

XXXXX said, "I made it out of the bark of an ancestral tree."

At first it was shaped like,

then when she had it all the way pulled out, it was like,

all polished wood and with gold embellishments and ornate designs. I was impressed but also flabbergasted (jealous) that XXXXX could create such such a beautiful piece of art that was also practical.