Showing posts with label fear of rejection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear of rejection. Show all posts

Saturday, March 11, 2017

(3/23/05) you're worthless for having trusted that man

(Entered in paper journal at 5:50 AM at home in Harlem.)

Dream 1

I was in a large room like two or three living rooms put together. The light was low, warm, and classy. I was mainly in the company of young women. We all spoke about certain vases we owned. Many of these vases had a specifically Mexican feel or look. But some of them just looked modern. I don't remember if I owned one or if I was just interested in them (i.e. having seem them at houses or in museums).

All the girls spoke about how some artist-looking man had either sold or given them these vases only implying that they had come from a special place in Mexico and Mexican history or that they had come from the hands of a mystical artist with some kind of well-known connection, mystical or aesthetic, to the past of Mexico or the Southwest.

Some of the women knew art history and theory passably, but they couldn't figure out what time period or region these strange and intriguing vases came from. I myself was just trying to remember some of these vases and whether I'd liked the ones I'd seen.

Across from me were two chairs or two couches. In the left one sat a woman with a silver "vase" like a thick, almost trophy-like, chalice like something one might see by Nambe.


She showed it to the woman in the right chair/couch. The woman said, "This? Oh, you've been fooled. I think you've all been fooled. This is nothing. It has no history behind it. It has no merit. It's worthless. And you're worthless for having trusted that man."

The left woman cried in shame. She stopped crying so strongly after a few seconds and looked up to the right woman. She gave her a look which I interpreted as asking, Am I worth anything? and then took off her shirt and embraced the right woman, kissing her. The two women walked over to a group of women at the left wall. All those women began stripping and making out.

The woman who had been on the left couch turned around and looked at me or in my direction, beckoning. I wasn't sure she was looking at me, so I stayed sat in my space on the couch. I didn't want to go over, anyway, because I didn't want the mean girls to tell me I was ugly or worthless. All the girls seemed to be huddled in two or three orgiastic heaps now.

Now some guys, maybe six at most, appeared, but as if they had always been there. They were all pale white, thin, tall, with long, long hair and long, whole thin beards, in boxer shorts that looked too big on them. They all trudged like sleepwalkers over to a couch by me and had an orgy. Some of them disappeared or dissolved as soon as they lay down, like they had fallen into a pit of pure shadow.

One guy looked up at me, beckoning. I looked away. I wasn't interested in being with such ugly, scraggly guys. I now thought, despairing, Isn't there anybody else on this planet who feels the way I feel about sex?

The back wall of the room was now gone, revealing some tacky, bamboo-lined bar on some beach in the dead of night. Two or three girls sat on the stools, their backs to me. They were continuing some conversation about art. I didn't want to be part of the conversation. But I wanted to belong somehow.

The girls looked slovenly over their shoulders at me. I looked away. They didn't want me around. I looked back to the living room. The whole room was full of groups of girls having sex.

But on a couch were two or three girls just sitting there, talking. I was about to sit down with them to talk. But then I realized the only reason they were talking was to entice me, to try to get me to make a sexual move on them. i knew I couldn't do it. So I just sat there. And now the girls started feeling rejected.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

(9/7/06) landlady discovers my transvestism; friends don't invite me places

(Entered in paper journal at 7:34 PM at home in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I ran out of my apartment. I was running after my landlady. I believe I had made a complaint about my neighbor always making noise. My landlady sided with my neighbor and decided to kick me out.

It was showering, steel grey, and lighting outside. My landlady headed to a beige SUV in a driveway right by my door. I tried to throw her to the ground, but I myself fell to the ground and pulled on her dress a little.

I yelled, "Look at how things really are!" I said, "I just paid for a month. You can't kick me out now unless you wnat to give me my month back!"

My landlady ran back into my house, which was about twice as big as it was in waking life. She went to my closet (she had originally come into my apartment through a door in my closet (which existed in waking life)). She saw some of my girl clothes.

My landlady grabbed some of my girl clothes. She yelled, "What is this? I didn't know about this when you moved in! I can't let you stay!"

Dream 2

I was in a dining room and then a kitchen in the dark. Somewhere my cell phone was buzzing. Finally I picked it up. But I had missed the call. I felt like the person I had missed would make trouble for me as a payback.

Dream 3

I was in a dim dining room with my friend R. It was a lightless room with a kind of cold light coming from somewhere else.

R was panicking. He had missed a phone call from the members of the improv comedy troupe we'd been in together in college. R told me, "Now I won't be able to go to the show." (The show was some kind of "competition" where they invited people from the audience on stage.)

I started to tell R he could go anyway. But then I realized R was making a big deal of the situation, not because he was worried about being able to go. He seemed pretty sure he would be able to go. Instead, he wanted to call attention to the fact that he had been invited by our friends to go while I hadn't.

I yelled at R for gloating over getting preferential treatment from our friends. R underhandedly responded, "Well, you can go, too. Nobody's stopping you."

(9/10/06) stephen king's short story journal

(Entered in paper journal at 12:19 PM at Starbucks on Astor Place in Manhattan.)

Dream 1

I was peripherally friends with Stephen King. He was publishing a new monthly short story journal. He was kind of laughing, but he was also a little impressed, because I submitted a new story each month. I knew this but I didn't see it. My vision was more like I was standing in a wide, columned garage looking out over a narrow, sunny city sidewalk.