(Entered in paper journal at 9:50 AM at Starbucks at Astor Place in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I killed a man. I threw the gun I'd used into a lake. I may also have thrown the man's body into the lake. Now the police were searching the lake for evidence. I was hoping I wouldn't get caught.
The lake was brown and dirty. I saw, as if I floated over the water, a black suit-jacket sinking into the water. I seemed to be drifting out on the water but not getting any farther from the shore.
To my right I saw a white egret (or crane) sinking into the water. Now to my right, on the shore, an owl-like bird landed on a barren, black tree. The bird faced away from me. Its closed wings were like a shell or a shield on its back. The shell was glittery, silver, red, and blue, in a design like that of the Cuban flag.
I saw a man walking in a prison. The prison had stone walls and glowed a warm, purplish color. The man was looking for a prisoner whom he would let out to perform a certain task. I thought the prisoner was me. I was afraid to see what I would look like, after having been dead in the lake (?) for so long.
The man opened one of the big, old, wooden prison-doors. The cell was crammed full of men. But none of the men looked really unhealthy.
Showing posts with label evidence of murder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label evidence of murder. Show all posts
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Saturday, February 9, 2013
(10/29/07) collateral baby; the wrong way again!
(Entered in paper journal at 5:15 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
A woman sat with some men in an otherwise empty theater. She held a gun which changed appearance from metallic silver to a weird, black, futuristic gun. The woman told the men how she had a man in holding. Unless he gave her a gun, which was a piece of evidence proving that she had killed yet another man, she would keep either keep the imprisoned man in holding or kill him.
One of the men reminded the woman, however, that there was a child of the imprisoned man who could somehow prove that the woman had killed a man.
I was in the hospital, walking through the halls as if I were the man who had been imprisoned. I was looking for my child, a little baby. I saw the baby hanging on a door. It was in the room, visible through the glass pane on the door. It had been hung with cords which to me resembled an umbilical cord.
As well as being the imprisoned man, I may also have been a doctor who had taken a special interest in this case. Finding the hung child, I brought it in to a couple of doctors. We figured we could try a special technique which could resuscitate strangulation victims.
I now saw a doctor standing over the baby. The doctor had a big knife in his hands. He cut through all the cords (which were like breathing tubes and other hospital equipment tubes) around the baby's neck. Blood flowed out of them.
Suddenly the baby woke up. It cried, and as it cried it grew into a child maybe ten or eleven years old. The doctor told the baby not to panic, that it was alright. But the baby panicked so much that it rolled out of bed.
The doctor jumped onto the bed and threw his legs over the other side to catch the boy. He then made some weird comment and swung his legs, and the boy, up onto a bed beside the first bed. He then jumped onto the bed.
Both the doctor and the boy were now boys about ten or eleven years old. The bed was huge. It had a wood frame. The boy and the boy-doctor were jumping all over the bed.
Dream #2
I stood at a train station like on the Metro North line of the MTA trains in New York. A small, dark-skinned (Indian?) boy said to me, "I'm happy you came all the way out to Utica to see us."
I was on the train now with a couple friends. The train was going through a deserty area of reddish-tan earth. I thought, I din't know New York had land like this. The sky was bright. The land became much more pale.
The train had been following another train. There were multiple tracks beside one another. Our train got its tracks confused and got lost from the lead train.
It was now like my friends and I were conducting the train. The friend actually conducting, though, hadn't been paying attention to the lead train's movements after we had gotten on the wrong track. Then he stopped paying attention to the tracks altogether. We started moving along on no tracks at all, near some cliff or mound of cakey sand. I told my friend, "Back up! Back up! We need to get back on track!"
We got back on a track, but we were heading somewhere way off from where we'd previously been heading. I told my friend, "If we just go back to where we first lost the train, I can get us back onto the track we're supposed to be on."
We got turned around and were heading back to where we'd gotten lost. We went past one or two large groups of people gathered around a black basalt cliff and overhang. I felt something wasn't right about seeing all these people. But I trusted we were going back to the right place.
We were back in an area that looked like where we'd gotten lost. But now my friend drove the train straight up the side of a hill. At first there were tracks. But at the top the tracks stopped. I yelled at my friend, "You're going the wrong way again!"
Dream #1
A woman sat with some men in an otherwise empty theater. She held a gun which changed appearance from metallic silver to a weird, black, futuristic gun. The woman told the men how she had a man in holding. Unless he gave her a gun, which was a piece of evidence proving that she had killed yet another man, she would keep either keep the imprisoned man in holding or kill him.
One of the men reminded the woman, however, that there was a child of the imprisoned man who could somehow prove that the woman had killed a man.
I was in the hospital, walking through the halls as if I were the man who had been imprisoned. I was looking for my child, a little baby. I saw the baby hanging on a door. It was in the room, visible through the glass pane on the door. It had been hung with cords which to me resembled an umbilical cord.
As well as being the imprisoned man, I may also have been a doctor who had taken a special interest in this case. Finding the hung child, I brought it in to a couple of doctors. We figured we could try a special technique which could resuscitate strangulation victims.
I now saw a doctor standing over the baby. The doctor had a big knife in his hands. He cut through all the cords (which were like breathing tubes and other hospital equipment tubes) around the baby's neck. Blood flowed out of them.
Suddenly the baby woke up. It cried, and as it cried it grew into a child maybe ten or eleven years old. The doctor told the baby not to panic, that it was alright. But the baby panicked so much that it rolled out of bed.
The doctor jumped onto the bed and threw his legs over the other side to catch the boy. He then made some weird comment and swung his legs, and the boy, up onto a bed beside the first bed. He then jumped onto the bed.
Both the doctor and the boy were now boys about ten or eleven years old. The bed was huge. It had a wood frame. The boy and the boy-doctor were jumping all over the bed.
Dream #2
I stood at a train station like on the Metro North line of the MTA trains in New York. A small, dark-skinned (Indian?) boy said to me, "I'm happy you came all the way out to Utica to see us."
I was on the train now with a couple friends. The train was going through a deserty area of reddish-tan earth. I thought, I din't know New York had land like this. The sky was bright. The land became much more pale.
The train had been following another train. There were multiple tracks beside one another. Our train got its tracks confused and got lost from the lead train.
It was now like my friends and I were conducting the train. The friend actually conducting, though, hadn't been paying attention to the lead train's movements after we had gotten on the wrong track. Then he stopped paying attention to the tracks altogether. We started moving along on no tracks at all, near some cliff or mound of cakey sand. I told my friend, "Back up! Back up! We need to get back on track!"
We got back on a track, but we were heading somewhere way off from where we'd previously been heading. I told my friend, "If we just go back to where we first lost the train, I can get us back onto the track we're supposed to be on."
We got turned around and were heading back to where we'd gotten lost. We went past one or two large groups of people gathered around a black basalt cliff and overhang. I felt something wasn't right about seeing all these people. But I trusted we were going back to the right place.
We were back in an area that looked like where we'd gotten lost. But now my friend drove the train straight up the side of a hill. At first there were tracks. But at the top the tracks stopped. I yelled at my friend, "You're going the wrong way again!"
Saturday, January 12, 2013
(8/3/08) the murder report
(Entered in paper journal at 8:36 AM at Heights Coffee shop in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was out on a neighborhood street with my boss BS, my co-worker DE, and maybe somebody else. We all looked up a a big, concrete wall that was in the sunlight and was topped with a street and houses.
The day was warm. DE and I may have been sitting in a car. We were typing up a report. A computer screen was before me. The report was about a company, but it was also about a murderer.
BS and DE were accusing me of not checking my facts. I got really mad, because I had checked everything. I started to say so to BS and DE, but they immediately acquiesced, as if they didn't want to hear me. But I couldn't help myself. I yammered on and on about all the steps I had taken to check my facts. As I was saving the report file to the computer I messed up and started talking about saving the file instead of talking about checking the facts.
Now I was fumbling under the driver's side car seat, trying to find some last piece of evidence that would prove the murderer's guilt. I pushed a few books out from under the seat. One book may have had a purple cover and white lettering.
BS was somewhere, possibly in the backseat, but not visible. I told him I couldn't find the evidence. BS told me, in a voice almost like that of a good female cop, "Don't worry about it. I just went by his house. There's plenty of evidence. There are ten dead women's bodies on his basement floor."
Dream #1
I was out on a neighborhood street with my boss BS, my co-worker DE, and maybe somebody else. We all looked up a a big, concrete wall that was in the sunlight and was topped with a street and houses.
The day was warm. DE and I may have been sitting in a car. We were typing up a report. A computer screen was before me. The report was about a company, but it was also about a murderer.
BS and DE were accusing me of not checking my facts. I got really mad, because I had checked everything. I started to say so to BS and DE, but they immediately acquiesced, as if they didn't want to hear me. But I couldn't help myself. I yammered on and on about all the steps I had taken to check my facts. As I was saving the report file to the computer I messed up and started talking about saving the file instead of talking about checking the facts.
Now I was fumbling under the driver's side car seat, trying to find some last piece of evidence that would prove the murderer's guilt. I pushed a few books out from under the seat. One book may have had a purple cover and white lettering.
BS was somewhere, possibly in the backseat, but not visible. I told him I couldn't find the evidence. BS told me, in a voice almost like that of a good female cop, "Don't worry about it. I just went by his house. There's plenty of evidence. There are ten dead women's bodies on his basement floor."
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