Dream #1
I stood on a street like a main street of a small town. There was a beautiful, orange-metallic sunset that made all the building fronts glow. Something about the building fronts seemed flimsy, like cardboard boxes. I heard my friend R talking, as if he were behind me and to my right (?) but also as if I were imagining this whole scene and hearing him "in real life." R said, "Oh, PK? Isn't he the world economist for your company?" R said this in a way that was supposed to make me feel like I didn't know as much as he did.
I was in a store like a Kmart. The store seemed desolate. I sat or crouched by the back wall, with the wall to my left, looking at a row of boxes lining the wall. The stacks of boxes varied, but none was higher than ten feet tall.
I walked out of some back area and back out to this row of boxes lining the wall. I was carrying an orange-handled (to mark decaf) coffee urn in my left hand. I shuffled back and forth by the shorter stacks of boxes. I was telling someone behind me and to my right that I could find R's statements in a box, is if by opening the box, I would make R's actual voice come out.
I continued the conversation, which soon made me realize I needed to take the coffee urn to the back area. I took it back to the restroom. I saw there was an urn on the floor. I wondered why I'd need to bring this one in if there already was one in this room. I washed the urn in the sink. A small, dead roach fell off from some part of the urn.
Showing posts with label friend R. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friend R. Show all posts
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
(7/11/07) the horror of a farewell kiss
Dream #1
I walked up steps from a basement which was more like a storm cellar planted in the center of a living room. The swinging doors of this "cellar" were held open (at first?) by a woman.
As I walked up the steps I held 3D glasses to my face. The woman (or I?), pretending we were in a 3D horror movie, shouted, "No! No! No!!!" The woman held er cheeks and shook her head.
I stood beside the woman (as if to comfort her?). But the woman may have laughed and pushed me away gently. The woman was a little older than I and had a very "suburban mother" look.
I stood by a front door. I may have been telling my friend R goodbye. A pretty, blonde girl came up to us. The girl said, "I'm a Dominican. We say goodbye with kisses."
I obliged the girl by walking up to her, embracing her, and kissing her, probably just on the cheeks, though I pressed hard, as if I meant this innocent-seeming kiss to be passionate.
I walked up steps from a basement which was more like a storm cellar planted in the center of a living room. The swinging doors of this "cellar" were held open (at first?) by a woman.
As I walked up the steps I held 3D glasses to my face. The woman (or I?), pretending we were in a 3D horror movie, shouted, "No! No! No!!!" The woman held er cheeks and shook her head.
I stood beside the woman (as if to comfort her?). But the woman may have laughed and pushed me away gently. The woman was a little older than I and had a very "suburban mother" look.
I stood by a front door. I may have been telling my friend R goodbye. A pretty, blonde girl came up to us. The girl said, "I'm a Dominican. We say goodbye with kisses."
I obliged the girl by walking up to her, embracing her, and kissing her, probably just on the cheeks, though I pressed hard, as if I meant this innocent-seeming kiss to be passionate.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
(8/5/07) my new leotard; the owl man
(Entered in paper journal at 8:20 AM at Ozzie's cafe -- not sure which -- in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I went into a women's clothing shop. It was dim inside. A Hispanic man and woman worked there. The man may have helped me pick some lingerie.
I sat in a room of a (the previous?) women's clothing shop, on a couch in the center of the room, like a couch in the center of the room of an art museum. I looked into another room. The other room was dark and closed off by a locked glass door.
I remembered one of my female friends telling me how the shop was so exclusive that it stays closed except for when people come to buy stuff. Then it opens almost automatically. I thought the clothes must be very expensive.
I headed back into the (first?) women's clothing store. The clothes I had gotten before didn't work for me at all.
This time the woman helped me find some lingerie. She got me a couple nice things. Then she picked out something like a pink leotard with tiny sleeves, like the outfit a dancer might wear, with tights over her legs, for practice. It was just what I wanted.
I sat on the train. A white man and woman sat across from me. The man was saying, angrily, but not out of control, "I've got enough to do dealing with her!"
Apparently the man thought that since I had bought women's clothing I was trying to hit on him (not sure how that connection was made, either by him or me...). The man brought up the woman next to him, apparently his girlfriend, as proof that he had his hands full with his girlfriend and that he liked women, not men, anyway.
Dream #2
I was on a street corner at night. The blocks around me were all massy, roughly fifteen-floor apartment buildings of brick and stone, like buildings on Park Avenue. The sky was grey and stringy and murky, maybe hung with a yellow moon.
Caddy-corner from me (?) I saw what I thought to be a large bird perched atop the walk signal. I thought it was an owl. I walked across the street to approach it. The walk signal had transformed into a ten-foot-tall, black metal box.
The bird wasn't a bird after all, but a man dressed in white, robe-like clothing, with long, silvery-grey hair and a long, silver-grey beard. He crouched away from me, his legs bent so his knees were to his chest, as if he were imitating a bird.
I tried to get a view of the man's whole face, but I was afraid that the man was crazy, and that if I looked directly at the man's face the man would become afraid or angry and run away or attack.
Somewhere nearby I ran into my friend R. This place was far away from R's home. R was out walking his dog. I asked R, "What are you doing all the way out here?" I thought R was stalking me.
R said, "I had to come all the way out here. I had to take my dog to the vet."
We were now standing in the vet's office. I knelt down beside R's dog, who stood to my right side and faced R as he stood at the reception desk. I asked, "Is your dog having another one of her..." (I knew it was a skin problem, but I wanted to be delicate about the issue) "... things?"
R got angry, thinking I had forgotten about his dog's illnesses. R said, "Skin issues. She's having more of her skin issues."
I petted the dog and noticed that a lot of her coat was very thin. It was also brown and white in these patches, instead of black, her normal color.
Dream #1
I went into a women's clothing shop. It was dim inside. A Hispanic man and woman worked there. The man may have helped me pick some lingerie.
I sat in a room of a (the previous?) women's clothing shop, on a couch in the center of the room, like a couch in the center of the room of an art museum. I looked into another room. The other room was dark and closed off by a locked glass door.
I remembered one of my female friends telling me how the shop was so exclusive that it stays closed except for when people come to buy stuff. Then it opens almost automatically. I thought the clothes must be very expensive.
I headed back into the (first?) women's clothing store. The clothes I had gotten before didn't work for me at all.
This time the woman helped me find some lingerie. She got me a couple nice things. Then she picked out something like a pink leotard with tiny sleeves, like the outfit a dancer might wear, with tights over her legs, for practice. It was just what I wanted.
I sat on the train. A white man and woman sat across from me. The man was saying, angrily, but not out of control, "I've got enough to do dealing with her!"
Apparently the man thought that since I had bought women's clothing I was trying to hit on him (not sure how that connection was made, either by him or me...). The man brought up the woman next to him, apparently his girlfriend, as proof that he had his hands full with his girlfriend and that he liked women, not men, anyway.
Dream #2
I was on a street corner at night. The blocks around me were all massy, roughly fifteen-floor apartment buildings of brick and stone, like buildings on Park Avenue. The sky was grey and stringy and murky, maybe hung with a yellow moon.
Caddy-corner from me (?) I saw what I thought to be a large bird perched atop the walk signal. I thought it was an owl. I walked across the street to approach it. The walk signal had transformed into a ten-foot-tall, black metal box.
The bird wasn't a bird after all, but a man dressed in white, robe-like clothing, with long, silvery-grey hair and a long, silver-grey beard. He crouched away from me, his legs bent so his knees were to his chest, as if he were imitating a bird.
I tried to get a view of the man's whole face, but I was afraid that the man was crazy, and that if I looked directly at the man's face the man would become afraid or angry and run away or attack.
Somewhere nearby I ran into my friend R. This place was far away from R's home. R was out walking his dog. I asked R, "What are you doing all the way out here?" I thought R was stalking me.
R said, "I had to come all the way out here. I had to take my dog to the vet."
We were now standing in the vet's office. I knelt down beside R's dog, who stood to my right side and faced R as he stood at the reception desk. I asked, "Is your dog having another one of her..." (I knew it was a skin problem, but I wanted to be delicate about the issue) "... things?"
R got angry, thinking I had forgotten about his dog's illnesses. R said, "Skin issues. She's having more of her skin issues."
I petted the dog and noticed that a lot of her coat was very thin. It was also brown and white in these patches, instead of black, her normal color.
Monday, February 18, 2013
(9/4/07) ice volcanoes; liberty crane; space shuttle replacement
(Entered in paper journal at 7:20 PM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
A man "told me" (I heard the man's voice in my head) a story about his family, in particular his wife, as I flew upward, ascending mountain peaks. I ascended three peaks, the second higher than the first, but the third possibly lower than the second. All the peaks and mountainsides were blanketed in snow. The peaks of the mountains (or three peaks of one mountain?) crowned as if they had been cracked open, and snow-dusted ice lay inside.
As I descended the mountainside after reaching the third peak, it was like I was skiing, not flying. There were people all over, lounging around and practicing skiing.
The man's story, which I still heard in my head, mainly had to do with how good his wife was at what she did (skiing?), but how she was now somehow disabled from doing it, though she continued to put up an appearance of being able to do it in front of people who counted on her (her children?).
Dream #2
I stood overlooking a big river or an ocean with some co-workers. It was day and the sky was clear blue. Near us, the body of water seemed to be cluttered with vessels. Off to the right was a massive, brick building, which must have been where I worked (as if my co-workers were just my friends, and I didn't work with them). I could see images of parts, the head and a foot, of the Statue of Liberty -- as if they were lying in cubby-holes of brick in some brick structure floating in the air off to my left.
I was telling my friends that I could reconstruct just about any part of the Statue of Liberty. My boss BS then asked, "Then couldn't you reconstruct the whole Statue of Liberty?"
I thought to myself that I could construct an entire statue resembling the Statue of Liberty, but that I wasn't skillful enough to create a replica. I could even imagine the flaws that would inevitably creep into my reproduction: particularly a boxiness to Liberty's face and an awkward triangularity in the gown.
I replied, "I could, I suppose. But why would anybody want a whole Statue of Liberty? Unless the one we have is going to break."
We all now stood (as if we had always been standing) on the top of a vehicle like a shipping-crate crane that floated all by itself on the water. The crane was enormous. Its purpose was to move the Statue of Liberty for repairs. It was just the "crane" on a floating platform, the base of the structure being a dark grey (kind of like a garbage barge) and all the rest a white-grey, almost plastic material.
We floated toward a clutter of vessels as tall as ours. Amid this tangle of vessels stood the Statue of Liberty.
But before we could pick up the Statue of Liberty, one of our group said, "The French ship Beauregard is nearby!" Everybody agreed this was a pretty important sight to see. We steered our vessel in that direction.
Our vessel quickly cruised through the water, passing much smaller vehicles. As we moved, someone else explained that the Beauregard was the famous French sailing ship used in the XXXXX (French Revolution?).
As we glided along, we passed a snail-shaped, aluminum-colored vessel. The "curl" of the "snail-shell" was hollow. The vessel was, I somehow saw, property of Japan. I could tell that this was a Japanese space vehicle and that it was either preparing for launch or else that it had just landed after a flight.
I now walked down a road with my brother (who may also have been my friend R). We may have been walking toward a place like NASA.
I saw a black jet twirl up above a building in the distance. I said, "It's an SR-71!" But that didn't quite make sense to me, as SR-71s were, I thought, out of commission, no longer flying. I couldn't tell for sure, though: the jet's spinning (and my fear of the vehicle) made it hard for me to discern the jet's shape.
At last, though, the jet flipped so I could see its back end. The jet, first of all, was deep blue, not black like an SR-71 usually (or always?) is. The craft also had two close exhaust jets in the center of the back side, with wings fanning outward from the jets and two vertical fins coming up from in between the two jets -- very different from the SR-71.
I shouted, "It's an F-14!"
My brother (or my friend R?), who walked about five feet behind me, said, "That's not an F-14."
I was angry at being contradicted. I wanted to vindicate myself. The jet now "crashed" right beside us. The jet was just like a hollow, die-cast hulk of plastic, maybe ten feet long and in the shape of a jet. On its side was a label saying "YF-14."
I shouted, "See? I said it was an F-14!"
Dream #3
I was telling my friend R about how I had seen an advanced jet. R answered, "Oh, yeah? Well, have you seen the XXXXX?" (Some name like CP-1 or CP-9.) "It's the new jet that can go into space."
I tried to figure what R was talking about. I now saw, in my mind's eye, an aircraft carrier with greyish, plastic-looking jets that had an almost space-shuttle look to them but which were also very sleek. The jets were grey with red stripes.
I thought, Now I do remember these! Although, was it actually decided that these vehicles would be used to replace the shuttle?
(It's interesting, nowadays, to see how this vehicle would resemble, at least in its body, the Dreamchaser of Sierra Nevada Corporation, or the experimental spacecraft made by Boeing. I believe I knew of the SRS retirement in 2007 -- it was talked of in NASA white papers on the new moon exploration projects. And SNC must have been on the drawing board, if nowhere else, by 2007.
So a craft like this could easily have filtered into my subconscious through some media channel or other. But it's still interesting to see how the vehicle cropped up before the relative fame it's been experiencing over the past two or so years.)
Dream #1
A man "told me" (I heard the man's voice in my head) a story about his family, in particular his wife, as I flew upward, ascending mountain peaks. I ascended three peaks, the second higher than the first, but the third possibly lower than the second. All the peaks and mountainsides were blanketed in snow. The peaks of the mountains (or three peaks of one mountain?) crowned as if they had been cracked open, and snow-dusted ice lay inside.
As I descended the mountainside after reaching the third peak, it was like I was skiing, not flying. There were people all over, lounging around and practicing skiing.
The man's story, which I still heard in my head, mainly had to do with how good his wife was at what she did (skiing?), but how she was now somehow disabled from doing it, though she continued to put up an appearance of being able to do it in front of people who counted on her (her children?).
Dream #2
I stood overlooking a big river or an ocean with some co-workers. It was day and the sky was clear blue. Near us, the body of water seemed to be cluttered with vessels. Off to the right was a massive, brick building, which must have been where I worked (as if my co-workers were just my friends, and I didn't work with them). I could see images of parts, the head and a foot, of the Statue of Liberty -- as if they were lying in cubby-holes of brick in some brick structure floating in the air off to my left.
I was telling my friends that I could reconstruct just about any part of the Statue of Liberty. My boss BS then asked, "Then couldn't you reconstruct the whole Statue of Liberty?"
I thought to myself that I could construct an entire statue resembling the Statue of Liberty, but that I wasn't skillful enough to create a replica. I could even imagine the flaws that would inevitably creep into my reproduction: particularly a boxiness to Liberty's face and an awkward triangularity in the gown.
I replied, "I could, I suppose. But why would anybody want a whole Statue of Liberty? Unless the one we have is going to break."
We all now stood (as if we had always been standing) on the top of a vehicle like a shipping-crate crane that floated all by itself on the water. The crane was enormous. Its purpose was to move the Statue of Liberty for repairs. It was just the "crane" on a floating platform, the base of the structure being a dark grey (kind of like a garbage barge) and all the rest a white-grey, almost plastic material.
We floated toward a clutter of vessels as tall as ours. Amid this tangle of vessels stood the Statue of Liberty.
But before we could pick up the Statue of Liberty, one of our group said, "The French ship Beauregard is nearby!" Everybody agreed this was a pretty important sight to see. We steered our vessel in that direction.
Our vessel quickly cruised through the water, passing much smaller vehicles. As we moved, someone else explained that the Beauregard was the famous French sailing ship used in the XXXXX (French Revolution?).
As we glided along, we passed a snail-shaped, aluminum-colored vessel. The "curl" of the "snail-shell" was hollow. The vessel was, I somehow saw, property of Japan. I could tell that this was a Japanese space vehicle and that it was either preparing for launch or else that it had just landed after a flight.
I now walked down a road with my brother (who may also have been my friend R). We may have been walking toward a place like NASA.
I saw a black jet twirl up above a building in the distance. I said, "It's an SR-71!" But that didn't quite make sense to me, as SR-71s were, I thought, out of commission, no longer flying. I couldn't tell for sure, though: the jet's spinning (and my fear of the vehicle) made it hard for me to discern the jet's shape.
At last, though, the jet flipped so I could see its back end. The jet, first of all, was deep blue, not black like an SR-71 usually (or always?) is. The craft also had two close exhaust jets in the center of the back side, with wings fanning outward from the jets and two vertical fins coming up from in between the two jets -- very different from the SR-71.
I shouted, "It's an F-14!"
My brother (or my friend R?), who walked about five feet behind me, said, "That's not an F-14."
I was angry at being contradicted. I wanted to vindicate myself. The jet now "crashed" right beside us. The jet was just like a hollow, die-cast hulk of plastic, maybe ten feet long and in the shape of a jet. On its side was a label saying "YF-14."
I shouted, "See? I said it was an F-14!"
Dream #3
I was telling my friend R about how I had seen an advanced jet. R answered, "Oh, yeah? Well, have you seen the XXXXX?" (Some name like CP-1 or CP-9.) "It's the new jet that can go into space."
I tried to figure what R was talking about. I now saw, in my mind's eye, an aircraft carrier with greyish, plastic-looking jets that had an almost space-shuttle look to them but which were also very sleek. The jets were grey with red stripes.
I thought, Now I do remember these! Although, was it actually decided that these vehicles would be used to replace the shuttle?
(It's interesting, nowadays, to see how this vehicle would resemble, at least in its body, the Dreamchaser of Sierra Nevada Corporation, or the experimental spacecraft made by Boeing. I believe I knew of the SRS retirement in 2007 -- it was talked of in NASA white papers on the new moon exploration projects. And SNC must have been on the drawing board, if nowhere else, by 2007.
So a craft like this could easily have filtered into my subconscious through some media channel or other. But it's still interesting to see how the vehicle cropped up before the relative fame it's been experiencing over the past two or so years.)
(9/8/07) drama on an aircraft carrier
(Entered in paper journal at 7:50 AM at Ozzie's cafe on Seventh Avenue and Lincoln Place in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I sat outside a house (in the woods?) with my co-worker ES. ES told me that a woman who had just been by had really impressed her, but that ES felt like she must not have been impressive to the woman. I listened as I sat on a four-foot-long log. There were a few other logs lying around. The day was calm and grey.
ES walked behind me and off to my right, where there may have been a couple vehicles like old Ford Broncos. ES continued speaking about the beautiful girl (whom I saw in my mind's eye as tall and blonde). ES said, "She just has everything: she's beautiful, she's smart, she's nice. I hope she knows how much I appreciate that." It suddenly dawned on me that ES was in love with this woman.
I stood at a lawn in front of a building like a long house or like my old high school. The day was still grey, though now it was a little windier. There were a lot of people outside with me. Most were men. It was like people were coming out of a movie.
A little verbal conflict started and finished quickly between two short, Mexican men and a tall, white man. Now everybody was gone. I stood by myself thinking, Those two kids are going to come by to find that man and make him pay for fighting with them. I couldn't remember now whether I was the white man. It felt eerie outside all alone in the grey breeze waiting, presumably, for some carload of kids to come by and shoot me.
I stood inside an almost empty house. The house was like the house I lived from about my sixth grade to ninth grade years of school. I was in the living room. Off to my back and right the room seemed to have opened into a hallway for a larger building like a community building or a large church which could also serve as a community building. In front of the front window of the living room stood a table with a lot of food on it.
I milled around the room, possibly waiting for a woman to get finished at a presentation or a movie. I was still afraid of the two kids and their friends coming after me. But I was also disappointed that I had "pulled" myself out of the range of their fire (apparently by shifting scenes).
I looked a little through the food on the table. Some cups on the windowsill caught my attention. I felt like there was a sweet, warm liquid in them. That was what I wanted. But as I grabbed the cup I felt like maybe I shouldn't take it, that maybe people were watching me and my taking food would only confirm to them what a "waster" or "grubber" I was.
I took the cup anyway, but when I looked inside I saw that all there was was some thin layer of grimy, pale-brown, translucent, sludgy material dotted with little, white, goopy chunks. It smelled almost too sweet. I thought, This isn't what I was looking for.
I thought I had picked up something diseased. I worried whether touching the cup would also make me diseased. But now I looked back in the cup. The material inside was just dry, powdered hot chocolate with tiny, dry marshmallows. I thought, Oh, it was just hot chocolate mix after all. Still, it wasn't the drink I'd wanted.
I sat in a room with my friend R, his fiancee L, and a couple other people. The room was large, and the table we sat at took up most of it. It was low to the ground, circular, and made of dark, dark wood. We sat on various items, but not regular chairs, which would have been too tall for the table. We all spoke about something that made me ashamed. It may have been about work or about me leaving work.
I stood on the deck (?) of an aircraft carrier. I stood before two men, both of high rank (for the Navy?). One stood directly in front of me; the other before me and to my right. To my left was a grey aircraft which, as I looked at it, I tried to identify by sorting through aircraft images in my mind. Finally my mind locked on something like an SR-71.
The man in front of me waved his right arm toward the craft and told me that everybody felt I should be the one to make the last flight of this craft. I felt honored in a very relaxed, understated way.
The jet was now in a small space that seemed to have been formed to fit only this craft. The space matched the contours of the jet and extended out only a few feet on all sides. The surrounding material seemed to be thick stucco or concrete, round, like the walls of a Spanish building or catacombs (?), not like the inside of an aircraft carrier (?).
The two high-ranking Navy men and I stood before the jet. The two men were joking about some movie, which I didn't figure out until later was Top Gun. I now knelt, as the men kept joking about the "unreality" of the movie, by the left underside of the craft, near the wing.
I stuck my head into the small gap between the undercarriage of the jet and the wall of the space. I turned my head in a strange way and, trying to pull my head back out of the gap, found I couldn't. I was panicked for a moment. But then I turned my head and came back out of the gap with no trouble. As I was doing this the two men were joking about some place name, something that started with a "B" but was always mistaken "in the movie" to start with a "G."
I could see the glass (?) dome of the cockpit, which had tan pieces of tape holding white, washer-shaped, paper circles to the window.
I may have tapped (somehow -- I wasn't in the cockpit) on the glass and remembered the flip-off scene from the beginning of Top Gun.
Now the jet pilot was getting ready to fly. I heard some people talking to the pilot as I (disembodied?) looked out over brightly rolling waves underneath a hot, blue sky. The waves would surge in a white blaze of sun reflections and then trough in fading, brilliant, deep blue.
One man told the pilot, "I never thought anything yo did was ridiculous. I was just a little jealous. But now that you're making this flight," (which was now going to keep the pilot away from home for a long, long time) "I want you to know how you important I think it is and how good it is that you are doing it."
I could see that the jet was going to launch from a hole in the front and midsection of the aircraft carrier.
I may have been flying with another person. We flew through a bunch of clutter floating on the water. We were near a tall wall of concrete, like at the edge of a river.
As we flew past one piece of clutter, a yellow, metal, rectangular "box," maybe fifty feet long, probably lying on a waterlogged, wooden barge, the person I flew with said something like, "Perhaps while you're there, they'll even let you open the research box." I knew the research box was this yellow box. It was stuffed with a grimy, smelly, sludgy matter. It was like decomposed garbage, I thought. I thought, Why would I want to open something like that?
I stood on a ledge of the tall wall. The front of the aircraft carrier faced an end of the ledge. The pilot and other people could load into the carrier from the ledge. A lot of other people were on the ledge, which may have been about twenty feet wide. The people were having a sort of "bon voyage party" for the pilot. The only person I could pick out in the crowd was a skinny, brown-haired girl.
A young man, maybe in his early twenties, though he seemed to be only about three feet tall, came up to me and in a panic cried, "I'm going to do it! I'm going to do this to myself!"
I recognized the young man from somewhere, possibly as one of the people who had been milling around after the movie earlier on. I knew that I had known the man (from wherever) as a self-centered boy who generally requited no attention, although he felt like he always had it, and that that produced an uneasy sensation in people, so that, he felt, people generally stayed away from him.
The young man had been engrossed in some mechanical science project. But now everybody was watching this pilot go off, and the young man had to accept that nobody was paying attention to him. This fact put the young man in a suicidal frenzy, apparently. The young man came to me with a screwdriver and a chain like the thin chain of a cheap, backyard swingset. The chain was black. The screwdriver, Phillips-head, had a clear handle with red markings in the grip ridges.
The young man made it clear he was going to kill himself, and that he would try with the second instrument he held if he didn't succeed with the first. (The screwdriver may have been the first instrument.) The young man may have been trying to run into the launch area to do this to himself.
I grabbed the young man and yelled, "Don't you know you have no right to do this right now? Everybody is here to give this man support! He is going somewhere and leaving everything he knows behind for a very long time! For years! And we are all trying to support him in a moment that is probably very scary and sad for him!"
The young man lost his frenzied look about halfway through my speech. He then took on an aghast look, which broke into a lost look of regret, like the young man couldn't believe he'd acted so selfishly. Then he broke down crying, in sympathy with the man for the scariness and loneliness of the journey he would be going on. The man might at this time have had a face like that of a classic grey alien.
Dream #1
I sat outside a house (in the woods?) with my co-worker ES. ES told me that a woman who had just been by had really impressed her, but that ES felt like she must not have been impressive to the woman. I listened as I sat on a four-foot-long log. There were a few other logs lying around. The day was calm and grey.
ES walked behind me and off to my right, where there may have been a couple vehicles like old Ford Broncos. ES continued speaking about the beautiful girl (whom I saw in my mind's eye as tall and blonde). ES said, "She just has everything: she's beautiful, she's smart, she's nice. I hope she knows how much I appreciate that." It suddenly dawned on me that ES was in love with this woman.
I stood at a lawn in front of a building like a long house or like my old high school. The day was still grey, though now it was a little windier. There were a lot of people outside with me. Most were men. It was like people were coming out of a movie.
A little verbal conflict started and finished quickly between two short, Mexican men and a tall, white man. Now everybody was gone. I stood by myself thinking, Those two kids are going to come by to find that man and make him pay for fighting with them. I couldn't remember now whether I was the white man. It felt eerie outside all alone in the grey breeze waiting, presumably, for some carload of kids to come by and shoot me.
I stood inside an almost empty house. The house was like the house I lived from about my sixth grade to ninth grade years of school. I was in the living room. Off to my back and right the room seemed to have opened into a hallway for a larger building like a community building or a large church which could also serve as a community building. In front of the front window of the living room stood a table with a lot of food on it.
I milled around the room, possibly waiting for a woman to get finished at a presentation or a movie. I was still afraid of the two kids and their friends coming after me. But I was also disappointed that I had "pulled" myself out of the range of their fire (apparently by shifting scenes).
I looked a little through the food on the table. Some cups on the windowsill caught my attention. I felt like there was a sweet, warm liquid in them. That was what I wanted. But as I grabbed the cup I felt like maybe I shouldn't take it, that maybe people were watching me and my taking food would only confirm to them what a "waster" or "grubber" I was.
I took the cup anyway, but when I looked inside I saw that all there was was some thin layer of grimy, pale-brown, translucent, sludgy material dotted with little, white, goopy chunks. It smelled almost too sweet. I thought, This isn't what I was looking for.
I thought I had picked up something diseased. I worried whether touching the cup would also make me diseased. But now I looked back in the cup. The material inside was just dry, powdered hot chocolate with tiny, dry marshmallows. I thought, Oh, it was just hot chocolate mix after all. Still, it wasn't the drink I'd wanted.
I sat in a room with my friend R, his fiancee L, and a couple other people. The room was large, and the table we sat at took up most of it. It was low to the ground, circular, and made of dark, dark wood. We sat on various items, but not regular chairs, which would have been too tall for the table. We all spoke about something that made me ashamed. It may have been about work or about me leaving work.
I stood on the deck (?) of an aircraft carrier. I stood before two men, both of high rank (for the Navy?). One stood directly in front of me; the other before me and to my right. To my left was a grey aircraft which, as I looked at it, I tried to identify by sorting through aircraft images in my mind. Finally my mind locked on something like an SR-71.
The man in front of me waved his right arm toward the craft and told me that everybody felt I should be the one to make the last flight of this craft. I felt honored in a very relaxed, understated way.
The jet was now in a small space that seemed to have been formed to fit only this craft. The space matched the contours of the jet and extended out only a few feet on all sides. The surrounding material seemed to be thick stucco or concrete, round, like the walls of a Spanish building or catacombs (?), not like the inside of an aircraft carrier (?).
The two high-ranking Navy men and I stood before the jet. The two men were joking about some movie, which I didn't figure out until later was Top Gun. I now knelt, as the men kept joking about the "unreality" of the movie, by the left underside of the craft, near the wing.
I stuck my head into the small gap between the undercarriage of the jet and the wall of the space. I turned my head in a strange way and, trying to pull my head back out of the gap, found I couldn't. I was panicked for a moment. But then I turned my head and came back out of the gap with no trouble. As I was doing this the two men were joking about some place name, something that started with a "B" but was always mistaken "in the movie" to start with a "G."
I could see the glass (?) dome of the cockpit, which had tan pieces of tape holding white, washer-shaped, paper circles to the window.
I may have tapped (somehow -- I wasn't in the cockpit) on the glass and remembered the flip-off scene from the beginning of Top Gun.
Now the jet pilot was getting ready to fly. I heard some people talking to the pilot as I (disembodied?) looked out over brightly rolling waves underneath a hot, blue sky. The waves would surge in a white blaze of sun reflections and then trough in fading, brilliant, deep blue.
One man told the pilot, "I never thought anything yo did was ridiculous. I was just a little jealous. But now that you're making this flight," (which was now going to keep the pilot away from home for a long, long time) "I want you to know how you important I think it is and how good it is that you are doing it."
I could see that the jet was going to launch from a hole in the front and midsection of the aircraft carrier.
I may have been flying with another person. We flew through a bunch of clutter floating on the water. We were near a tall wall of concrete, like at the edge of a river.
As we flew past one piece of clutter, a yellow, metal, rectangular "box," maybe fifty feet long, probably lying on a waterlogged, wooden barge, the person I flew with said something like, "Perhaps while you're there, they'll even let you open the research box." I knew the research box was this yellow box. It was stuffed with a grimy, smelly, sludgy matter. It was like decomposed garbage, I thought. I thought, Why would I want to open something like that?
I stood on a ledge of the tall wall. The front of the aircraft carrier faced an end of the ledge. The pilot and other people could load into the carrier from the ledge. A lot of other people were on the ledge, which may have been about twenty feet wide. The people were having a sort of "bon voyage party" for the pilot. The only person I could pick out in the crowd was a skinny, brown-haired girl.
A young man, maybe in his early twenties, though he seemed to be only about three feet tall, came up to me and in a panic cried, "I'm going to do it! I'm going to do this to myself!"
I recognized the young man from somewhere, possibly as one of the people who had been milling around after the movie earlier on. I knew that I had known the man (from wherever) as a self-centered boy who generally requited no attention, although he felt like he always had it, and that that produced an uneasy sensation in people, so that, he felt, people generally stayed away from him.
The young man had been engrossed in some mechanical science project. But now everybody was watching this pilot go off, and the young man had to accept that nobody was paying attention to him. This fact put the young man in a suicidal frenzy, apparently. The young man came to me with a screwdriver and a chain like the thin chain of a cheap, backyard swingset. The chain was black. The screwdriver, Phillips-head, had a clear handle with red markings in the grip ridges.
The young man made it clear he was going to kill himself, and that he would try with the second instrument he held if he didn't succeed with the first. (The screwdriver may have been the first instrument.) The young man may have been trying to run into the launch area to do this to himself.
I grabbed the young man and yelled, "Don't you know you have no right to do this right now? Everybody is here to give this man support! He is going somewhere and leaving everything he knows behind for a very long time! For years! And we are all trying to support him in a moment that is probably very scary and sad for him!"
The young man lost his frenzied look about halfway through my speech. He then took on an aghast look, which broke into a lost look of regret, like the young man couldn't believe he'd acted so selfishly. Then he broke down crying, in sympathy with the man for the scariness and loneliness of the journey he would be going on. The man might at this time have had a face like that of a classic grey alien.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
(9/11/07) my dad the murderer; gnear thalk; we really want to talk
(Entered in paper journal at 6:30 AM on B-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
My dad may have been accused of a murder. He was now coming to take me, my brother, and my sister to dinner. I lived in my own house, so they would pick me up. I sat in a room of my house, which was empty except a little clutter, a box of which I sat on.
I spoke on the cell phone with my mom. I told my mom, "I can't sit in a restaurant with that guy! Everybody'll be staring at us and asking us questions the whole time!" I imagined big, fat faces crowding all around my dad, my brother, my sister, and I at the restaurant. The faces all looked like obese versions of a mid-twentieth-century, cruel stereotype of Chinese faces.
I pulled the phone away from my left ear. The display was so colorful and bright. The main colors were blue.
My mom (or sister?) asked through the phone, "Your phone hasn't worked in all this time. Why is it working now that you need to tell us you don't want to see your dad?"
I thought to myself, Wow. They're right. How did my phone start working again?
Dream #2
A woman had gone missing, and two men had found that she had killed herself. They found her in a vacant lot of pale tan soil on a clear, blue day. She was a black girl, tall, thin, with brown skin and shortish, spiky, dark-blonde hair. she had slit her throat and lay in a big pool of blood. She lay in a fetal position on her right side.
The men now stood before a camera (still in the lot, still on a blue day) talking about how it was to find the body. The men were both oldish, a little dumpy, white, with big, round eyes.
The scene of discovery happened again, like for the first time. This time the woman was completely decapitated, her head lying three or four feet from her body. The view panned back up to the two men, who said, "Imagine our shock. Even if she had survived, what kind of life would that have been? Her arms were chopped to the elbows, her legs were gone..."
I now crouched in a library, in between a shelf and a wall. The space was narrow, about three feet wide at most. I had a big book held directly in front of my face. I crouched, relaxed, with my knees against my chest. My sister sat to my left, leaning against my legs.
My oldest nephew came walking from right to left along the aisle and stomped on my sister's legs. It hurt my sister.
I felt helpless to retaliate on behalf of my sister. But I didn't want it to happen to her again. So I told her to sit a special way. She sat pretty much the same way as before, but now she was naked.
I heard a weird story narrated now, by my sister -- not voiced from her physical body, but from a narration in my head. My sister said, "I wouldn't let anybody kiss my boobs before him. But this was very important to him." I had a feeling that the "him" was me. I thought, How could that be? Why would I do something like that to my sister?
My view floated all around the library, slowly, as if some disembodied I were walking around the library.
I heard myself and a friend, like my old friend R, speaking in my head. We were trying to decipher a phrase: "gnear talk." It was in a series of new phrases young kids were using nowadays. I saw the list of new colloquialisms before my mind's eye for a moment.
I thought, Well, "thalk" is a hot walk -- so hot it thaws you. And "gnear" is what you say when a girl is so close you can feel her loveliness. It's as if you were saying, "Gee, she's near," or "g-near," to make "gnear" (except that the "g" was pronounced hard, not soft).
Dream #3
I had a dinner or a breakfast at a place that was supposed to be the apartment of my old friend R and his fiancee L. We sat at a huge table that was littered with items like vases. Everything seemed very disordered. I was surprised to have been here. I thought, These guys aren't mad at me anymore! I felt relieved.
L said, "Come back soon. We really want to talk with you again."
I couldn't tell whether that were true. I looked at R. He looked unpleasantly surprised to see me here. I could tell he was already trying to find a way to keep me from coming back.
Dream #1
My dad may have been accused of a murder. He was now coming to take me, my brother, and my sister to dinner. I lived in my own house, so they would pick me up. I sat in a room of my house, which was empty except a little clutter, a box of which I sat on.
I spoke on the cell phone with my mom. I told my mom, "I can't sit in a restaurant with that guy! Everybody'll be staring at us and asking us questions the whole time!" I imagined big, fat faces crowding all around my dad, my brother, my sister, and I at the restaurant. The faces all looked like obese versions of a mid-twentieth-century, cruel stereotype of Chinese faces.
I pulled the phone away from my left ear. The display was so colorful and bright. The main colors were blue.
My mom (or sister?) asked through the phone, "Your phone hasn't worked in all this time. Why is it working now that you need to tell us you don't want to see your dad?"
I thought to myself, Wow. They're right. How did my phone start working again?
Dream #2
A woman had gone missing, and two men had found that she had killed herself. They found her in a vacant lot of pale tan soil on a clear, blue day. She was a black girl, tall, thin, with brown skin and shortish, spiky, dark-blonde hair. she had slit her throat and lay in a big pool of blood. She lay in a fetal position on her right side.
The men now stood before a camera (still in the lot, still on a blue day) talking about how it was to find the body. The men were both oldish, a little dumpy, white, with big, round eyes.
The scene of discovery happened again, like for the first time. This time the woman was completely decapitated, her head lying three or four feet from her body. The view panned back up to the two men, who said, "Imagine our shock. Even if she had survived, what kind of life would that have been? Her arms were chopped to the elbows, her legs were gone..."
I now crouched in a library, in between a shelf and a wall. The space was narrow, about three feet wide at most. I had a big book held directly in front of my face. I crouched, relaxed, with my knees against my chest. My sister sat to my left, leaning against my legs.
My oldest nephew came walking from right to left along the aisle and stomped on my sister's legs. It hurt my sister.
I felt helpless to retaliate on behalf of my sister. But I didn't want it to happen to her again. So I told her to sit a special way. She sat pretty much the same way as before, but now she was naked.
I heard a weird story narrated now, by my sister -- not voiced from her physical body, but from a narration in my head. My sister said, "I wouldn't let anybody kiss my boobs before him. But this was very important to him." I had a feeling that the "him" was me. I thought, How could that be? Why would I do something like that to my sister?
My view floated all around the library, slowly, as if some disembodied I were walking around the library.
I heard myself and a friend, like my old friend R, speaking in my head. We were trying to decipher a phrase: "gnear talk." It was in a series of new phrases young kids were using nowadays. I saw the list of new colloquialisms before my mind's eye for a moment.
I thought, Well, "thalk" is a hot walk -- so hot it thaws you. And "gnear" is what you say when a girl is so close you can feel her loveliness. It's as if you were saying, "Gee, she's near," or "g-near," to make "gnear" (except that the "g" was pronounced hard, not soft).
Dream #3
I had a dinner or a breakfast at a place that was supposed to be the apartment of my old friend R and his fiancee L. We sat at a huge table that was littered with items like vases. Everything seemed very disordered. I was surprised to have been here. I thought, These guys aren't mad at me anymore! I felt relieved.
L said, "Come back soon. We really want to talk with you again."
I couldn't tell whether that were true. I looked at R. He looked unpleasantly surprised to see me here. I could tell he was already trying to find a way to keep me from coming back.
Monday, February 11, 2013
(9/22/07) phantom and suicide; lesbians exiled in space; annoyed into improvement
(Entered in paper journal at 8 AM at Ozzie's Cafe on Seventh Avenue and Lincoln Place in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I sat in a car like a limo with an Indian man. I sat in a seat the back of which was to the back of the front seat. I faced the Indian man as he sat in the normal back seat. We both sat on the passenger's side. I was exploring something business related to the man. I spoke in a mildly (not overtly) condescending way which I found annoying but which I couldn't control. At some point I finally managed to break off my annoying speech.
Outside, over a deserty sprawl of short building roofs along a wide road sped three smallish, sleek jets painted white with blue and red stripes. I called out to the Indian man to look. The man missed them, having barely looked for them. But now three more sped by. This time the man saw them. But he didn't seem impressed. He said something like, "Yeah, I've seen that before. Interesting."
But I was still excited. I said, "They have an Air Force base down there!" I pointed back over my left (?) shoulder. I might have called the base Kirtland.
The man might have said something like, "Yeah, I know. They fly the XXXXX there." I imagined the top half of a silvery craft. I tried to determine what it was. I settled on an F-4 Phantom.
I might now have been driving the car. I was on a high stretch of highway that curved around to the right, probably as it went over the ocean. could see the ocean sky, but none of the ocean.
I was a man who was going to kill himself. I had been through some ordeal which I may have visualized as I drove. Everybody thought I had put myself through the ordeal expressly so I could kill myself at some point during it. But I hadn't killed myself. Now everybody, even I, thought I wasn't going to kill myself.
But I now sped off the road, which simply ran straight forward and out into the ocean. The car hit and sank into the water, but my view stayed just above the water. The white title "FINE" might have come up before my view of the water.
Dream #2
There was a preview for some black and white movie on TV. The view was just of one set. The set was like a miniature model of a mountain range. I'd suppose it was supposed to be the landscape of a foreign planet. People in Lost in Space style outfits hid behind the mini-mountains and would pop out as the narrator mentioned them or parts of the story related to them. Most of them also held "laser-guns," the barrels of which ended with two wholes which faced away from one another.
The holes had lights coming out of them as if a shiny, reflective, metal disc were in each hole. Even though the preview was black and white, I knew one light was green and one was red.
The narrator said the movie was about a young boy who was killing everybody on this island (?). The people had to find out who the boy was before he killed everybody. Even though they all knew him, and likely knew he was killing everybody, they didn't know who he was. The narrator said, "But imagine their surprise as they slowly discover that everyone in the group... is an exile!"
Even though I had been watching this preview on TV, I now felt the boy pointing his gun at me. One color was good, and one color was bad. I felt the light of a color on me, but I couldn't tell which color it was. I hoped it wasn't the bad color.
I was now outside a house with a group of people. The land before the house (and possibly as far as the eye could see) was barren, turned soil, probably a deepish red. The sky was misty white. We were all something like shipwreck survivors washed up on this island.
We were doing well, obviously well enough to have built regular houses. We were now working on a wall-sized grid of shelves, like bookshelves. Something facing the shelves allowed me to climb up and watch people as they sat on shelves, somehow working on those shelves.
At or near the top of the shelves were two women. One was a black-haired woman with tan skin. She wore a black leotard and grey sweatpants. She was known for being in excellent shape, but I thought she was a little heavy. I looked closer at her body and though, Well, maybe she's just muscly. The woman sat with her legs together and straight out in front of her. She had her head down to her knees.
The other woman, middle-aged, fattish, blonde, stood over the brunette, behind her, massaging the woman's back. I thought at first that the women were lovers. But the brunette kept talking about some man she wanted to be with. The blonde woman would say slightly encouraging things to the brunette but not mean any of it. I could tell that the blonde woman was in love with the brunette and was trying to keep the brunette from ever finding love -- unless the brunette found love with the blonde woman.
I descended before the shelves. I saw how some of the shelves were of fake wood, while others were of glass, like coffee table glass. I stood behind the shelves, before the house, looking through the shelves and out at the land. There were other people working nearby. Somewhere out in the distance was the grey sea.
I thought more "exiles" were coming. I thought, It seems pretty obvious we're all exiles. That's how each new person is introduced to the group. He can't help it. Why did the narrator say it would come as such a shock? It may have occurred to me then that the shock would be, not to us, but to a group of city dwellers who lived, we would soon find, on another part of this island.
Dream #3
My old friend R and I had gotten in a fight. He placed himself in a situation where I woudn't be able to find him. I didn't care. I was leaving.I walked out of some building. I was then walking out of a forest and onto a highway on a flat, wide, open field. The lanes into and out of the forest were divided by a grassy median.
I was eagerly heading out of the forest when, somehow, R, on the lanes heading into the forest, caught my attention. R sat on a big, wide motorcycle parked on the left side of the road.
I was annoyed that just as I was getting away, R ad come back. I knew I couldn't leave R out here alone, and obviously his motorcycle was broken. He needed help. I crossed to the other lanes on some connecting path paved with asphalt.
I was now down in an underground passageway like a subway. Some passages were regular sized. Other passages were so narrow I had to crawl through them. Eventually I got to a stairway which appeared to go up above ground.
All this time I heard R and me having a conversation. I asked R why his fiancee L had to pick on me all the time. R said, "Well, didn't it inspire you to do better things?"
Dream #1
I sat in a car like a limo with an Indian man. I sat in a seat the back of which was to the back of the front seat. I faced the Indian man as he sat in the normal back seat. We both sat on the passenger's side. I was exploring something business related to the man. I spoke in a mildly (not overtly) condescending way which I found annoying but which I couldn't control. At some point I finally managed to break off my annoying speech.
Outside, over a deserty sprawl of short building roofs along a wide road sped three smallish, sleek jets painted white with blue and red stripes. I called out to the Indian man to look. The man missed them, having barely looked for them. But now three more sped by. This time the man saw them. But he didn't seem impressed. He said something like, "Yeah, I've seen that before. Interesting."
But I was still excited. I said, "They have an Air Force base down there!" I pointed back over my left (?) shoulder. I might have called the base Kirtland.
The man might have said something like, "Yeah, I know. They fly the XXXXX there." I imagined the top half of a silvery craft. I tried to determine what it was. I settled on an F-4 Phantom.
I might now have been driving the car. I was on a high stretch of highway that curved around to the right, probably as it went over the ocean. could see the ocean sky, but none of the ocean.
I was a man who was going to kill himself. I had been through some ordeal which I may have visualized as I drove. Everybody thought I had put myself through the ordeal expressly so I could kill myself at some point during it. But I hadn't killed myself. Now everybody, even I, thought I wasn't going to kill myself.
But I now sped off the road, which simply ran straight forward and out into the ocean. The car hit and sank into the water, but my view stayed just above the water. The white title "FINE" might have come up before my view of the water.
Dream #2
There was a preview for some black and white movie on TV. The view was just of one set. The set was like a miniature model of a mountain range. I'd suppose it was supposed to be the landscape of a foreign planet. People in Lost in Space style outfits hid behind the mini-mountains and would pop out as the narrator mentioned them or parts of the story related to them. Most of them also held "laser-guns," the barrels of which ended with two wholes which faced away from one another.
The holes had lights coming out of them as if a shiny, reflective, metal disc were in each hole. Even though the preview was black and white, I knew one light was green and one was red.
The narrator said the movie was about a young boy who was killing everybody on this island (?). The people had to find out who the boy was before he killed everybody. Even though they all knew him, and likely knew he was killing everybody, they didn't know who he was. The narrator said, "But imagine their surprise as they slowly discover that everyone in the group... is an exile!"
Even though I had been watching this preview on TV, I now felt the boy pointing his gun at me. One color was good, and one color was bad. I felt the light of a color on me, but I couldn't tell which color it was. I hoped it wasn't the bad color.
I was now outside a house with a group of people. The land before the house (and possibly as far as the eye could see) was barren, turned soil, probably a deepish red. The sky was misty white. We were all something like shipwreck survivors washed up on this island.
We were doing well, obviously well enough to have built regular houses. We were now working on a wall-sized grid of shelves, like bookshelves. Something facing the shelves allowed me to climb up and watch people as they sat on shelves, somehow working on those shelves.
At or near the top of the shelves were two women. One was a black-haired woman with tan skin. She wore a black leotard and grey sweatpants. She was known for being in excellent shape, but I thought she was a little heavy. I looked closer at her body and though, Well, maybe she's just muscly. The woman sat with her legs together and straight out in front of her. She had her head down to her knees.
The other woman, middle-aged, fattish, blonde, stood over the brunette, behind her, massaging the woman's back. I thought at first that the women were lovers. But the brunette kept talking about some man she wanted to be with. The blonde woman would say slightly encouraging things to the brunette but not mean any of it. I could tell that the blonde woman was in love with the brunette and was trying to keep the brunette from ever finding love -- unless the brunette found love with the blonde woman.
I descended before the shelves. I saw how some of the shelves were of fake wood, while others were of glass, like coffee table glass. I stood behind the shelves, before the house, looking through the shelves and out at the land. There were other people working nearby. Somewhere out in the distance was the grey sea.
I thought more "exiles" were coming. I thought, It seems pretty obvious we're all exiles. That's how each new person is introduced to the group. He can't help it. Why did the narrator say it would come as such a shock? It may have occurred to me then that the shock would be, not to us, but to a group of city dwellers who lived, we would soon find, on another part of this island.
Dream #3
My old friend R and I had gotten in a fight. He placed himself in a situation where I woudn't be able to find him. I didn't care. I was leaving.I walked out of some building. I was then walking out of a forest and onto a highway on a flat, wide, open field. The lanes into and out of the forest were divided by a grassy median.
I was eagerly heading out of the forest when, somehow, R, on the lanes heading into the forest, caught my attention. R sat on a big, wide motorcycle parked on the left side of the road.
I was annoyed that just as I was getting away, R ad come back. I knew I couldn't leave R out here alone, and obviously his motorcycle was broken. He needed help. I crossed to the other lanes on some connecting path paved with asphalt.
I was now down in an underground passageway like a subway. Some passages were regular sized. Other passages were so narrow I had to crawl through them. Eventually I got to a stairway which appeared to go up above ground.
All this time I heard R and me having a conversation. I asked R why his fiancee L had to pick on me all the time. R said, "Well, didn't it inspire you to do better things?"
Sunday, February 10, 2013
(10/23/07) delusive sub-world; inflatable mattress
(Entered in paper journal at 5:20 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I watched a movie that was something like Moulin Rouge. Ewan McGregor was dancing around and singing rock opera before Nicole Kidman. There was some understanding that "Ewan" was deluded or deranged. Something physical happened to make him this way. He thought we was living in a different world.
The film went back in time to show what had happened. I was now the Ewan McGregor character. I was dancing around in some large warehouse. Something hit me on the head, something like a big, black box. I didn't pass out, I didn't lose consciousness, it seemed. Instead, I passed downward, through the floor, into a lower level all lit blue and full of silvery fixtures. This was some kind of delusive sub-world.
In the regular world, I saw (as me watching the movie), other people were being attacked. A clock like a grandfather clock was getting ready to stab a Michael Caine-like man in the head. The hour hand was at three.
I saw another person, a boy, encased in metal (like Han Solo in the freezing material), the metal also having been created by a clock person. The boy was spiraling away and screaming, "They've got me! Help! They're taking me away!"
Dream #2
I was in an empty room, maybe like a nice cabin in the woods. I was trying to inflate a mattress which was a bunk bed. I felt like the wood frame holding the two beds together was too heavy: the mattress on the ground would never inflate fully.
I tried again to inflate it. As it was almost fully inflated again, my old friend R walked in. I hurried to shut off the air pump (by a switch right on the mattress). I felt like I had waited too long. I watched the mattress deflate again. R mentioned something about a safety nozzle on the side of the mattress. It popped open any time there was too much pressure.
Dream #1
I watched a movie that was something like Moulin Rouge. Ewan McGregor was dancing around and singing rock opera before Nicole Kidman. There was some understanding that "Ewan" was deluded or deranged. Something physical happened to make him this way. He thought we was living in a different world.
The film went back in time to show what had happened. I was now the Ewan McGregor character. I was dancing around in some large warehouse. Something hit me on the head, something like a big, black box. I didn't pass out, I didn't lose consciousness, it seemed. Instead, I passed downward, through the floor, into a lower level all lit blue and full of silvery fixtures. This was some kind of delusive sub-world.
In the regular world, I saw (as me watching the movie), other people were being attacked. A clock like a grandfather clock was getting ready to stab a Michael Caine-like man in the head. The hour hand was at three.
I saw another person, a boy, encased in metal (like Han Solo in the freezing material), the metal also having been created by a clock person. The boy was spiraling away and screaming, "They've got me! Help! They're taking me away!"
Dream #2
I was in an empty room, maybe like a nice cabin in the woods. I was trying to inflate a mattress which was a bunk bed. I felt like the wood frame holding the two beds together was too heavy: the mattress on the ground would never inflate fully.
I tried again to inflate it. As it was almost fully inflated again, my old friend R walked in. I hurried to shut off the air pump (by a switch right on the mattress). I felt like I had waited too long. I watched the mattress deflate again. R mentioned something about a safety nozzle on the side of the mattress. It popped open any time there was too much pressure.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
(10/26/07) theatrical training; didn't care after all
(Entered in paper journal at 5:21 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I stood in a blue room with an older couple and a man about my age. The older couple stood to my left. The man stood before me. The older couple looked somewhat wealthy. The man my age was tall, heavyish, pale, wearing a t-shirt (pinkish-beige?). Behind him may have been a bookshelf or a closet.
The man my age told me about some stage plan like for a theatrical production. I imagined a sparse blueprint.
I saw the man again. He told me we would use the things I made as a reference for later work I would apply for. He mentioned some other training I would go through.
The man showed me books that stood on a shelf over the door frame. The books were tall and thick and had old, dark blue, faded, cloth covers.
I now saw as if I were in a separate place. I heard the older couple and the man talking to me They couldn't afford to get me a really great suit -- it wasn't in the budget. But I would look good in whichever suit I got, they said. They suggested that at some point I get an all-white suit.
Dream #2
I sat in a movie theater with my old friend R. The movie was playing, but the theater was still half-lit and dim orange. R kept crowding into my view and putting his hand in front of important characters or things on the screen. When people in the movie would say important things R would interject loudly so I couldn't hear.
I got mad and told R, "This is what you do that makes me not want to hang around with you!"
R said, "So?" He laughed. I noticed how short R's hair was.
I said, "So I'm telling you because you told me to."
R said, "Yeah, well, I guess I really don't care if I'm upsetting you, even if you tell me."
Dream #1
I stood in a blue room with an older couple and a man about my age. The older couple stood to my left. The man stood before me. The older couple looked somewhat wealthy. The man my age was tall, heavyish, pale, wearing a t-shirt (pinkish-beige?). Behind him may have been a bookshelf or a closet.
The man my age told me about some stage plan like for a theatrical production. I imagined a sparse blueprint.
I saw the man again. He told me we would use the things I made as a reference for later work I would apply for. He mentioned some other training I would go through.
The man showed me books that stood on a shelf over the door frame. The books were tall and thick and had old, dark blue, faded, cloth covers.
I now saw as if I were in a separate place. I heard the older couple and the man talking to me They couldn't afford to get me a really great suit -- it wasn't in the budget. But I would look good in whichever suit I got, they said. They suggested that at some point I get an all-white suit.
Dream #2
I sat in a movie theater with my old friend R. The movie was playing, but the theater was still half-lit and dim orange. R kept crowding into my view and putting his hand in front of important characters or things on the screen. When people in the movie would say important things R would interject loudly so I couldn't hear.
I got mad and told R, "This is what you do that makes me not want to hang around with you!"
R said, "So?" He laughed. I noticed how short R's hair was.
I said, "So I'm telling you because you told me to."
R said, "Yeah, well, I guess I really don't care if I'm upsetting you, even if you tell me."
Saturday, February 2, 2013
(11/27/07) nativity in india; looking for photos
(Entered in paper journal at 5 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was somewhere like the apartment of my old friend R. R had walked away and left a stack of photos nearby so I would see them and look at them. They had been given to him by a group of my friends from college. I had also gotten a stack of photos like this. They were from when my old friends ML and PD visited two other friends BC & SA in India.But when I looked at the photos I recognized that R had gotten a lot more photos from my friends than I had. This is why R had left his photos out -- so I'd see them and be jealous.
The last photo I looked at was of SA and possibly the others working on fixing a building. The building looked like a ruin you might see in a Renaissance painting of the nativity: stone walls crumbled, with wood beam frames in the corners. The ground was all upturned, reddish earth, full of building debris. There were taller buildings in decent shape on either side. In the distance were city buildings like oldish apartment buildings in Greenwich Village.
I thought how similar cities all over the world look. This place, India, was supposed to be so exotic. But it looked a lot like New York City in some ways.
I was in a bedroom with PD. She had gotten undressed and into a pale blue bathrobe. She spoke a little with me before she headed into the bathroom. PD's hair was all frizzy. The bathroom light was off. PD stood in the crack of the half-opened door. Then she walked all the way in and closed the door. I walked to the bed and sat down. I may have started looking at photos.
Dream #2
I was in a drugstore. I may have been a worker there. The light was dim; maybe the only light coming in was from the windows. I had arranged a bucket of photos. There were a worker behind a front counter and two workers in a narrow aisle beside me. The man at the counter was tall, thin, white, oldish. The two workers in the aisle were teenagers or thereabouts, black, short, one boy, one girl.
The man at the counter was pleased that I had arranged the photos. But I was actually looking for photos of my own. I thought the boy and girl might know where I should look, as they seemed to work directly with the photos. But when I tried to speak with them, they defiantly ignored me.
I found a shelf of envelopes of photos. I started shuffling through them. They became big, black cartridges which I was loading onto something that looked like a film projector. A white man stood over me, to my left, as I knelt and loaded the cartridges into the machine. I thought, I shouldn't have to do all this work with other people's photos. I'm just looking for my own photos.
The man standing over my shoulder now spoke about some publicly traded beverage companies, Cott Corporation in particular, and why he thought he was going long on them now rather than shorting them.
I saw a black and white image on a thick sheet of glass. It was like a 1940s family standing in front of a house. The image was very small, maybe one and a half inches square. The sheet of glass was big. Soon I realized it was part of a machine. The body of the machine was made of a thick, greenish metal. The machine was about waist-height and eight feet long. It did something like print film images.
An old woman (like a woman from the old Ozzie's cafe in Park Slope in Brooklyn) stood bent over the glass sheet. I could see a log of coppery gears beneath the glass sheet. A light shone thinly, creating the black and white image on the glass.
The woman said, "I've been using this machine for so long. Now hopefully the thing won't break." But right after she said this, the light went out. It suddenly looked like a cigarette butt.
Dream #1
I was somewhere like the apartment of my old friend R. R had walked away and left a stack of photos nearby so I would see them and look at them. They had been given to him by a group of my friends from college. I had also gotten a stack of photos like this. They were from when my old friends ML and PD visited two other friends BC & SA in India.But when I looked at the photos I recognized that R had gotten a lot more photos from my friends than I had. This is why R had left his photos out -- so I'd see them and be jealous.
The last photo I looked at was of SA and possibly the others working on fixing a building. The building looked like a ruin you might see in a Renaissance painting of the nativity: stone walls crumbled, with wood beam frames in the corners. The ground was all upturned, reddish earth, full of building debris. There were taller buildings in decent shape on either side. In the distance were city buildings like oldish apartment buildings in Greenwich Village.
I thought how similar cities all over the world look. This place, India, was supposed to be so exotic. But it looked a lot like New York City in some ways.
I was in a bedroom with PD. She had gotten undressed and into a pale blue bathrobe. She spoke a little with me before she headed into the bathroom. PD's hair was all frizzy. The bathroom light was off. PD stood in the crack of the half-opened door. Then she walked all the way in and closed the door. I walked to the bed and sat down. I may have started looking at photos.
Dream #2
I was in a drugstore. I may have been a worker there. The light was dim; maybe the only light coming in was from the windows. I had arranged a bucket of photos. There were a worker behind a front counter and two workers in a narrow aisle beside me. The man at the counter was tall, thin, white, oldish. The two workers in the aisle were teenagers or thereabouts, black, short, one boy, one girl.
The man at the counter was pleased that I had arranged the photos. But I was actually looking for photos of my own. I thought the boy and girl might know where I should look, as they seemed to work directly with the photos. But when I tried to speak with them, they defiantly ignored me.
I found a shelf of envelopes of photos. I started shuffling through them. They became big, black cartridges which I was loading onto something that looked like a film projector. A white man stood over me, to my left, as I knelt and loaded the cartridges into the machine. I thought, I shouldn't have to do all this work with other people's photos. I'm just looking for my own photos.
The man standing over my shoulder now spoke about some publicly traded beverage companies, Cott Corporation in particular, and why he thought he was going long on them now rather than shorting them.
I saw a black and white image on a thick sheet of glass. It was like a 1940s family standing in front of a house. The image was very small, maybe one and a half inches square. The sheet of glass was big. Soon I realized it was part of a machine. The body of the machine was made of a thick, greenish metal. The machine was about waist-height and eight feet long. It did something like print film images.
An old woman (like a woman from the old Ozzie's cafe in Park Slope in Brooklyn) stood bent over the glass sheet. I could see a log of coppery gears beneath the glass sheet. A light shone thinly, creating the black and white image on the glass.
The woman said, "I've been using this machine for so long. Now hopefully the thing won't break." But right after she said this, the light went out. It suddenly looked like a cigarette butt.
(11/30/07) a dirty movie; there for a friend; satanic pariah
(Entered in paper journal at 5:20 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a bedroom with a friend. The friend (R?) was making a movie. There were two or three pool tables with white sheets over them. They were "beds." My friend wanted me to lay down on one of them and wrap myself in the sheets. But I looked at the "beds." They were all covered in dead insects and residue.
I yelled at my friend, "You just want me to lay down in all this filth!" My friend said that wasn't what he wanted. I said, "Well, why don't you lay down on the beds."
He said, "Oh, no. I'm not doing that." (I think the story of the film was to be of a guy who lifts himself from this bed as if it were his death bed, although he is still going to die.)
I was now out in a living room. There were a few people milling around, as if getting ready to shoot a scene in a movie. One guy sat in a corner by the window. He was kind of big, wearing winter clothes. He held a flyer for some rock band or big party -- an 8 1/2" by 11" black and white page. I knew that in the scene this man would give another man this flyer. This would set off a weird chain of events.
Suddenly I remembered another movie I had seen or been a part of. It was very similar. I was disappointed that there was so little originality nowadays that almost the exact same plot could be used twice. I muttered, "It's the exact same thing!" A few people were offended. I walked out of the house. I was on a big city street.
Dream #2
I walked through a series of alleyways or quiet streets in a big city. The roads and sidewalks were cobblestone. The buildings were redbrick. I was on the phone (right ear) with my friend R's fiancee L.
L was telling me how she was working to help kids take tests. She had had to take the SAT as a qualification. She passed and had done very well. I was happy for her. I was happy she had called to tell me how she had done. I thought, How could I have gone so long without being there to care for L when good things happen?
Dream #3
I sat with a bunch of people from the volunteer organization New York Cares in a yellow-walled room that was filled with natural light. We sat at a long, wood table. We were at our volunteer event, but were talking about the event or an event as if it had occurred a couple days ago.
I mentioned a girl who was a little too goody-two-shoes for my tastes. I sneeringly mentioned how she had pulled a Bible out of her backpack on a number of occasions. The other people had been laughing as we spoke, having a good time. But when I sneered about the woman's Bible, everybody stopped laughing. They said, "Here at New York Cares, we aren't supposed to care about how other people express their religious beliefs."
I said, "You're right. After all, I've brought the Satanic Bible to work occasionally." Now people were really upset. I knew I would be asked not to come back to New York Cares.
I looked at a card in an envelope. It was like mock-parchment, maybe 3" by 5". It had fancy writing on it. It was from my mom or one of my grandmothers. It was a message about how well I had been doing in my life.
Dream #1
I was in a bedroom with a friend. The friend (R?) was making a movie. There were two or three pool tables with white sheets over them. They were "beds." My friend wanted me to lay down on one of them and wrap myself in the sheets. But I looked at the "beds." They were all covered in dead insects and residue.
I yelled at my friend, "You just want me to lay down in all this filth!" My friend said that wasn't what he wanted. I said, "Well, why don't you lay down on the beds."
He said, "Oh, no. I'm not doing that." (I think the story of the film was to be of a guy who lifts himself from this bed as if it were his death bed, although he is still going to die.)
I was now out in a living room. There were a few people milling around, as if getting ready to shoot a scene in a movie. One guy sat in a corner by the window. He was kind of big, wearing winter clothes. He held a flyer for some rock band or big party -- an 8 1/2" by 11" black and white page. I knew that in the scene this man would give another man this flyer. This would set off a weird chain of events.
Suddenly I remembered another movie I had seen or been a part of. It was very similar. I was disappointed that there was so little originality nowadays that almost the exact same plot could be used twice. I muttered, "It's the exact same thing!" A few people were offended. I walked out of the house. I was on a big city street.
Dream #2
I walked through a series of alleyways or quiet streets in a big city. The roads and sidewalks were cobblestone. The buildings were redbrick. I was on the phone (right ear) with my friend R's fiancee L.
L was telling me how she was working to help kids take tests. She had had to take the SAT as a qualification. She passed and had done very well. I was happy for her. I was happy she had called to tell me how she had done. I thought, How could I have gone so long without being there to care for L when good things happen?
Dream #3
I sat with a bunch of people from the volunteer organization New York Cares in a yellow-walled room that was filled with natural light. We sat at a long, wood table. We were at our volunteer event, but were talking about the event or an event as if it had occurred a couple days ago.
I mentioned a girl who was a little too goody-two-shoes for my tastes. I sneeringly mentioned how she had pulled a Bible out of her backpack on a number of occasions. The other people had been laughing as we spoke, having a good time. But when I sneered about the woman's Bible, everybody stopped laughing. They said, "Here at New York Cares, we aren't supposed to care about how other people express their religious beliefs."
I said, "You're right. After all, I've brought the Satanic Bible to work occasionally." Now people were really upset. I knew I would be asked not to come back to New York Cares.
I looked at a card in an envelope. It was like mock-parchment, maybe 3" by 5". It had fancy writing on it. It was from my mom or one of my grandmothers. It was a message about how well I had been doing in my life.
Friday, February 1, 2013
(12/9/07) deadly friends; las vegas descent
(Entered in paper journal at 9:25 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood on a subway platform with my old friend R and his fiancee L. The platform was very busy, but it was wide, with tall ceilings. I was waiting for a Q-train. As one train pulled up, R started talking about how he and L did something really cool that I could have been a part of if I hadn't stopped being friends with him.
The train that pulled up was an N-train. It was heading in my direction. But I needed a Q-train. Through the windows of the train I saw that my train was coming, but on the other platform. I ran off from R and L, kind of happy not to have to listen to R's talking anymore.
I didn't know if I could make my train. The stairwell up, which I would need to take to cross and get down to the other platform, was full, mostly of Hispanic people, mainly Mexican. Somehow, though I managed to jump about three-quarters of the way up the stairways side and grab the handrails.
I waited until a group of people made an opening for me. Then I flipped myself onto the stairs. The handrails were a softish-feeling aluminum.
I quickly ran to the other stairway and jumped down over its side. I got into the train (which appeared to be packed with people) right as the doors were closing.
I walked through the car. It was almost completely empty. It was filthy, and it had a weird smell, as if a homeless person were in it.
Three little Hispanic kids ran around in the train. I thought they were chasing around me, trying to taunt me in the guise of playing an innocent game with one another.
The kids' mother lay on one of the long benches (grey benches). She was covered entirely by a (pink?) blanket. Somewhere near her was a dried patch of blood. I probably stepped in the blood. It was sticky. I headed quickly into the next car, more out of a sense of indignant disgust than fear.
I was in a very dark room. My mom was somewhere, possibly even just talking to me by cell phone. I may have stood by a desk, kicking little cubes of safety glass out of the ridges of a green car-floor-mat.
My mom told me about the last time she'd seen my brother. My brother's friends had done something bad to him. My mom told my brother something like he shouldn't be surprised that these things happen if he keeps making friends with people like that. My mom said that my brother agreed and didn't seem too violently upset.
But my brother ended up found (?) in some place like an area by the side of a road or in a field. His mouth had been taped, my mom said. I could "see"/"feel" my brother's mouth and eyes taped over with silver duct tape.
My mom said it had later been determined that my brother had conspired to have himself killed by a friend. He had gone to a friend's house and had a drug mixture called a "coke XXXXX" ("coke set"?). He passed out. He then had his mouth taped by his friend so that he couldn't breathe -- as if the drug mixture impaired my brother's ability to breathe through his nose. His friend then took him and dumped him somewhere (roadside or field) to die.
Dream #2
I was in a commercial airplane. We seemed to be landing. I could see a lot, as if the windows on the plane were enormous. Suddenly we pulled up steeply. We ascended quickly, to a level where the blue sky became dark indigo. Big chunks of snow flew all around us. I laughed with glee. It was like I could feel the snow.
We now descended in Las Vegas. Somehow we landed on the road heading to the toll booth for cars. We pulled into the toll booth as far as we could.
A van in the toll booth pulled backwards and crashed into us. Its whole back end was smashed. I worried that the driver would sue us. But I realized he couldn't: he couldn't blame us for such a stupid action of his own. He must have realized that. He drove off to our side and away from us without even going into the airport.
I was at my dad's house. My stepmother was there and was somehow also my mom. I was trying to get out of the house and go somewhere. But my mom/stepmother kept threatening me, saying that if I left, she would make me very sorry. She also tried to convince me that, for now, this was where I wanted to be.
Dream #1
I stood on a subway platform with my old friend R and his fiancee L. The platform was very busy, but it was wide, with tall ceilings. I was waiting for a Q-train. As one train pulled up, R started talking about how he and L did something really cool that I could have been a part of if I hadn't stopped being friends with him.
The train that pulled up was an N-train. It was heading in my direction. But I needed a Q-train. Through the windows of the train I saw that my train was coming, but on the other platform. I ran off from R and L, kind of happy not to have to listen to R's talking anymore.
I didn't know if I could make my train. The stairwell up, which I would need to take to cross and get down to the other platform, was full, mostly of Hispanic people, mainly Mexican. Somehow, though I managed to jump about three-quarters of the way up the stairways side and grab the handrails.
I waited until a group of people made an opening for me. Then I flipped myself onto the stairs. The handrails were a softish-feeling aluminum.
I quickly ran to the other stairway and jumped down over its side. I got into the train (which appeared to be packed with people) right as the doors were closing.
I walked through the car. It was almost completely empty. It was filthy, and it had a weird smell, as if a homeless person were in it.
Three little Hispanic kids ran around in the train. I thought they were chasing around me, trying to taunt me in the guise of playing an innocent game with one another.
The kids' mother lay on one of the long benches (grey benches). She was covered entirely by a (pink?) blanket. Somewhere near her was a dried patch of blood. I probably stepped in the blood. It was sticky. I headed quickly into the next car, more out of a sense of indignant disgust than fear.
I was in a very dark room. My mom was somewhere, possibly even just talking to me by cell phone. I may have stood by a desk, kicking little cubes of safety glass out of the ridges of a green car-floor-mat.
My mom told me about the last time she'd seen my brother. My brother's friends had done something bad to him. My mom told my brother something like he shouldn't be surprised that these things happen if he keeps making friends with people like that. My mom said that my brother agreed and didn't seem too violently upset.
But my brother ended up found (?) in some place like an area by the side of a road or in a field. His mouth had been taped, my mom said. I could "see"/"feel" my brother's mouth and eyes taped over with silver duct tape.
My mom said it had later been determined that my brother had conspired to have himself killed by a friend. He had gone to a friend's house and had a drug mixture called a "coke XXXXX" ("coke set"?). He passed out. He then had his mouth taped by his friend so that he couldn't breathe -- as if the drug mixture impaired my brother's ability to breathe through his nose. His friend then took him and dumped him somewhere (roadside or field) to die.
Dream #2
I was in a commercial airplane. We seemed to be landing. I could see a lot, as if the windows on the plane were enormous. Suddenly we pulled up steeply. We ascended quickly, to a level where the blue sky became dark indigo. Big chunks of snow flew all around us. I laughed with glee. It was like I could feel the snow.
We now descended in Las Vegas. Somehow we landed on the road heading to the toll booth for cars. We pulled into the toll booth as far as we could.
A van in the toll booth pulled backwards and crashed into us. Its whole back end was smashed. I worried that the driver would sue us. But I realized he couldn't: he couldn't blame us for such a stupid action of his own. He must have realized that. He drove off to our side and away from us without even going into the airport.
I was at my dad's house. My stepmother was there and was somehow also my mom. I was trying to get out of the house and go somewhere. But my mom/stepmother kept threatening me, saying that if I left, she would make me very sorry. She also tried to convince me that, for now, this was where I wanted to be.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
(1/12/08) lesbian doll sex; seduced by old friends; steamhippie
(Entered in paper journal at 8:45 AM at Flying Saucer cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a helicopter or watching a man in a helicopter. He was talking about how he was flying a plane. The helicopter was very small, maybe the size of a VW Beetle. When the man got to a certain height he said he would now make his descent.
I now saw from the man's point of view. I had wondered how something was filming (or taping) him from the air. Now I "saw" (where?) a jet of some sort, which I assumed was the vehicle on which the camera was positioned.
I now saw as if I were piloting the helicopter. I was descending much more quickly than I thought a helicopter should descend. I descended over a green field which seemed also to have some construction activity on it. I knew I was going to crash. The helicopter crashed.
I stood before a bus bench on a gritty city sidewalk. The helicopter was crashed, lodged between the bench and a small tree. The helicopter was like an oversize toy, maybe a couple feet wide and a few feet long. Its blades were stubby. They were still spinning around, stutteringly. The helicopter, which had been white, was now charcoaled over with smoke and burns.
My family stood behind me, talking. It was my grandfather, my mother, my great grandmother, and a couple other people. I knelt before a reddish-pink, velvety armchair that stood out on the sidewalk.
There were two dolls. They were crudely made, like third-rate Barbie dolls with almost Raggedy-Ann type heads.They had no clothes on. The doll on the left had no limbs.
I wanted to imagine the dolls as lesbians. I wanted to see them having a lesbian relationship. Bu I didn't want to move them with my own hands -- it seemed like that would make them "not really lesbians."
But then I noticed that the doll with limbs was geared. It could make simple movements if switched on or wound up. I may possibly have wound the doll up by spinning a white, toothed wheel which stuck out of its back, saw-wheel-style. It now rolled its head right and forward, as well as possibly shifting its whole body onto its right side and then back onto its back.
I sat the limbed doll right next to the limbless doll and propped the limbless doll on its left side. In this way, it looked like the limbed doll was purposely kissing the limbless doll and then moving its body up against the limbless doll's body. I was turned on by this.
My family was all heading into a building just off from the sidewalk. They got my attention so I could leave, too. My nephews were there, too. I realized these toys might have belonged to one of my nephews. I felt bad for having played such an obscene game with the toys.
As my grandfather walked past me he saw the toys in their movement. He suspected I had made the toys make these movements, but he wasn't sure. He looked at me with a slight disgust. I felt even worse than I had before. I tried to think how I could cover my act.
I walked toward the doorway. It was like a doorless entry, very small, like for a bedroom doorway. It was set in a kind of rundown building. The inside was, by my view from the outside, very dark. I could hardly see my family members once they entered.
Dream #2
I was in a large, dim bedroom with my old friend R and his fiancee L. We might have finished watching a movie on TV. I lay on one bed and R and L lay on another.
We were now getting ready for bed. I felt very tired and grainy-eyed. R got out of bed to turn something (the TV?) off at the other end of the room.
L sat up, kneeling in a way so her knees faced me. She wore a red, shimmery camisole or dress that looked too dressy for being pajamas. She had it pulled up enough on her legs so I could see the crotch of her panties, which were lavender and satiny. She looked at me to let me know she had let me see her panties on purpose.
When that didn't turn me on enough to make me go for her, L lay stomach-down on the bed, facing away from me and toward R. She pulled her "dress" up so that her whole bottom was exposed to me.
I knew L was trying to seduce me, and I was turned on. But I didn't really want to be with L. I also knew that if I was with L, I'd have to be with R, too. I didn't want that.
It was now like we all lay on the same bed. This is the way it had to be when I spent the night. The lights were probably all off. I lay on the left side of the bed, my head to the head of the bed. R and L lay with their heads to the foot of the bed, to my right. R lay next to me, and L to R.
I could tell that R was trying to seduce me. R thought that if I lay in the same bed as he, he still had a chance at seducing me. But I did my best to stay laying opposite R and L and to avoid touching them as much as possible.
Now I lay with my body entirely against the headboard. Something seemed very strange about the bed. It was like R and L were coiled around each other in an elliptical hollow on the bottom half of the bed. (The image in my head now reminds me texturally of the "Thou affrightest me with dreams" drawing in Blake's Job series.)
Dream #3
I sat near a booth-like shop on a small chunk of sidewalk (like Astor Place) in a downtown-like area. It was a sunny, but possibly cold, day. I sat on a bunch of blankets. I may possibly also have been covered in blankets. I was very bleary-eyed.
The shop-booth, to my right, was hung with random (motley) fabrics, which gave it a rundown, but very warm, look. There might have been steam coming from outside the shop, which made sitting outside it very pleasant in the cold weather.
I was, or was suspected of being, either a crackhead bum or an undercover cop posing as a crackhead bum. I may alternately have been myself and a young, black man. To my left, in the sunny street, was a big van, which might have been a police van. I tried not to appear to be associated with the van. I looked back behind my head. There was a tall building of green, reflective glass.
At first there was some shady activity going on between two black people in front of the motley shop. I tried not to pay attention to it. Now a black man, kind of strange-looking, like a hippie wearing a biker jacket, was asking something to the people in the shop, who were Chinese. The man produced a camera from his pocket. I understood the man just wanted someone to take a photo of him in front of this shop.
The man turned first to hand his camera to an Asian man or woman, who sat, like me, in front of the shop, covered in blankets. The Asian person was fattish, slightly worn out, with thickly scraggly hair. He/she wore a black biker jacket. But he/she could hardly hold the camera, let alone snap a photo: his/her fingernails were long and curled so that his/her hands were pretty much useless.
The man handed the camera to someone else, maybe to me. The person took a digital photo of the man bending over some kind of product, behind strips of curtain-fabric hung with globes. Steam might have been coming up around his face. The man wore a bandanna which I thought was mystical. He posed as if he were smelling and enjoying the steam.
The picture had been taken. I saw the image on the camera-back's screen. Seeing the photos, and how the man obviously took this experience to be so mystical and important, I really liked the man. I didn't want to get too close to the man, still, because I was pretty sure if I showed too much of my personality. I maintained a servile attitude toward the man.
I now saw one of my nephews, possibly my oldest nephew, but maybe from when he was five years old. He sat on the blanket by me. I thought, I need to act stronger in front of my nephew. I need to make him feel secure. So I did my best to act as cheerful and confident as possible.
Dream #1
I was in a helicopter or watching a man in a helicopter. He was talking about how he was flying a plane. The helicopter was very small, maybe the size of a VW Beetle. When the man got to a certain height he said he would now make his descent.
I now saw from the man's point of view. I had wondered how something was filming (or taping) him from the air. Now I "saw" (where?) a jet of some sort, which I assumed was the vehicle on which the camera was positioned.
I now saw as if I were piloting the helicopter. I was descending much more quickly than I thought a helicopter should descend. I descended over a green field which seemed also to have some construction activity on it. I knew I was going to crash. The helicopter crashed.
I stood before a bus bench on a gritty city sidewalk. The helicopter was crashed, lodged between the bench and a small tree. The helicopter was like an oversize toy, maybe a couple feet wide and a few feet long. Its blades were stubby. They were still spinning around, stutteringly. The helicopter, which had been white, was now charcoaled over with smoke and burns.
My family stood behind me, talking. It was my grandfather, my mother, my great grandmother, and a couple other people. I knelt before a reddish-pink, velvety armchair that stood out on the sidewalk.
There were two dolls. They were crudely made, like third-rate Barbie dolls with almost Raggedy-Ann type heads.They had no clothes on. The doll on the left had no limbs.
I wanted to imagine the dolls as lesbians. I wanted to see them having a lesbian relationship. Bu I didn't want to move them with my own hands -- it seemed like that would make them "not really lesbians."
But then I noticed that the doll with limbs was geared. It could make simple movements if switched on or wound up. I may possibly have wound the doll up by spinning a white, toothed wheel which stuck out of its back, saw-wheel-style. It now rolled its head right and forward, as well as possibly shifting its whole body onto its right side and then back onto its back.
I sat the limbed doll right next to the limbless doll and propped the limbless doll on its left side. In this way, it looked like the limbed doll was purposely kissing the limbless doll and then moving its body up against the limbless doll's body. I was turned on by this.
My family was all heading into a building just off from the sidewalk. They got my attention so I could leave, too. My nephews were there, too. I realized these toys might have belonged to one of my nephews. I felt bad for having played such an obscene game with the toys.
As my grandfather walked past me he saw the toys in their movement. He suspected I had made the toys make these movements, but he wasn't sure. He looked at me with a slight disgust. I felt even worse than I had before. I tried to think how I could cover my act.
I walked toward the doorway. It was like a doorless entry, very small, like for a bedroom doorway. It was set in a kind of rundown building. The inside was, by my view from the outside, very dark. I could hardly see my family members once they entered.
Dream #2
I was in a large, dim bedroom with my old friend R and his fiancee L. We might have finished watching a movie on TV. I lay on one bed and R and L lay on another.
We were now getting ready for bed. I felt very tired and grainy-eyed. R got out of bed to turn something (the TV?) off at the other end of the room.
L sat up, kneeling in a way so her knees faced me. She wore a red, shimmery camisole or dress that looked too dressy for being pajamas. She had it pulled up enough on her legs so I could see the crotch of her panties, which were lavender and satiny. She looked at me to let me know she had let me see her panties on purpose.
When that didn't turn me on enough to make me go for her, L lay stomach-down on the bed, facing away from me and toward R. She pulled her "dress" up so that her whole bottom was exposed to me.
I knew L was trying to seduce me, and I was turned on. But I didn't really want to be with L. I also knew that if I was with L, I'd have to be with R, too. I didn't want that.
It was now like we all lay on the same bed. This is the way it had to be when I spent the night. The lights were probably all off. I lay on the left side of the bed, my head to the head of the bed. R and L lay with their heads to the foot of the bed, to my right. R lay next to me, and L to R.
I could tell that R was trying to seduce me. R thought that if I lay in the same bed as he, he still had a chance at seducing me. But I did my best to stay laying opposite R and L and to avoid touching them as much as possible.
Now I lay with my body entirely against the headboard. Something seemed very strange about the bed. It was like R and L were coiled around each other in an elliptical hollow on the bottom half of the bed. (The image in my head now reminds me texturally of the "Thou affrightest me with dreams" drawing in Blake's Job series.)
Dream #3
I sat near a booth-like shop on a small chunk of sidewalk (like Astor Place) in a downtown-like area. It was a sunny, but possibly cold, day. I sat on a bunch of blankets. I may possibly also have been covered in blankets. I was very bleary-eyed.
The shop-booth, to my right, was hung with random (motley) fabrics, which gave it a rundown, but very warm, look. There might have been steam coming from outside the shop, which made sitting outside it very pleasant in the cold weather.
I was, or was suspected of being, either a crackhead bum or an undercover cop posing as a crackhead bum. I may alternately have been myself and a young, black man. To my left, in the sunny street, was a big van, which might have been a police van. I tried not to appear to be associated with the van. I looked back behind my head. There was a tall building of green, reflective glass.
At first there was some shady activity going on between two black people in front of the motley shop. I tried not to pay attention to it. Now a black man, kind of strange-looking, like a hippie wearing a biker jacket, was asking something to the people in the shop, who were Chinese. The man produced a camera from his pocket. I understood the man just wanted someone to take a photo of him in front of this shop.
The man turned first to hand his camera to an Asian man or woman, who sat, like me, in front of the shop, covered in blankets. The Asian person was fattish, slightly worn out, with thickly scraggly hair. He/she wore a black biker jacket. But he/she could hardly hold the camera, let alone snap a photo: his/her fingernails were long and curled so that his/her hands were pretty much useless.
The man handed the camera to someone else, maybe to me. The person took a digital photo of the man bending over some kind of product, behind strips of curtain-fabric hung with globes. Steam might have been coming up around his face. The man wore a bandanna which I thought was mystical. He posed as if he were smelling and enjoying the steam.
The picture had been taken. I saw the image on the camera-back's screen. Seeing the photos, and how the man obviously took this experience to be so mystical and important, I really liked the man. I didn't want to get too close to the man, still, because I was pretty sure if I showed too much of my personality. I maintained a servile attitude toward the man.
I now saw one of my nephews, possibly my oldest nephew, but maybe from when he was five years old. He sat on the blanket by me. I thought, I need to act stronger in front of my nephew. I need to make him feel secure. So I did my best to act as cheerful and confident as possible.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
(2/20/08) treasury and fed; nwne; the shawmut; waiting for mom; duane reade
(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in a dark place, maybe inside a house and then out on a lawn at night. I heard about my old friend R killing someone. R was now threatening to kill me because I worked for the US Treasury.
I walked through some concrete area with dead or dormant weeds spiking up along the walls. I was thinking to myself how I might start working somewhere else, maybe the Federal Reserve. But I needed to give myself time to make the move.
Dream #2
I was in a house with my mother, my sister, and probably my brother. The weather was a little wintry, but tornadoes were causing destruction nearby. The tornadoes were in the northwest of the city. We were in the northeast. I saw in my mind a diagram of quadrants, with the northwest and northeast quadrants labeled.
I told my mom we should get out of here. I sat on the floor by my sister. My mom stood over us. My mom said, "There's nothing to worry about. The storms are in the northwest."
I said, "But they'll move!"
My mom said, "Alright, alright. Everybody into the car."
I was in the kitchen. I slung a small, plastic bag of something over my shoulder. Some animal like a rabbit pulled the whole thing into its mouth. I turned around and pulled the animal off the bag. The animal was now like a cocker spaniel. The dog scurried around violently. I knelt down. I may have been wearing shorts. I had bare legs. The dog was biting my legs.
All around us were empty boxes of food, like cereal boxes. I knew the dog was hungry. I tried to find it some food. Only one box still had food in it. The food was like Froot Loops, but it was like someone had already poured milk on them and the milk had dried, leaving the cereal all caked together. I knew that food probably wasn't good for anything to eat. But I was still trying to get it out of the box to feed the dog.
Dream #3
I was in a hotel room in Boston. I might just have come back in after having been out for a couple hours. The room was dimmish. I stood before the door. The cleaning lady knocked and then came inside. She said she was sorry if she was bothering me. I said it was no big deal.
I walked over and sat on the bed. The bed was undone, the blankets in a heap. I saw a used Band-Aid on my bed. i knew it wasn't my Band-Aid, and that I had laid in bed all night with my feet touching somebody's used Band-Aid.
I turned on the TV. I thought about my old co-worker and mentor ES or my boss BS having once said they weren't particular about the hotel they stayed in. They could even stay in the hotel I was in right now -- the Shawmut.
Dream #4
I was at "my dad's house," which was somewhere in the woods. We were getting ready to go, possibly to a movie in a nearby city. But we realized that my mom had taken all the keys for the cars. (This is odd -- we all had handfuls of sets of keys. It was more like the cars were all gone.)
I was angry that my mom could leave us stuck like this without leaving us any idea of when she would be back. My sister and I tried to call my mom on her cell phone, but my mom wasn't answering. Finally I said, "I can get out of here myself. I don't need a car. I can walk."
I imagined a few trails running through a mountain meadow. My only fear was that my mom would come after I'd started walking and make me look like a fool for having been impatient to leave.
Dream #5
(Vision?) I stood before a mirrored wall with a Duane Reade sign and doorway around it.
Dream #1
I was in a dark place, maybe inside a house and then out on a lawn at night. I heard about my old friend R killing someone. R was now threatening to kill me because I worked for the US Treasury.
I walked through some concrete area with dead or dormant weeds spiking up along the walls. I was thinking to myself how I might start working somewhere else, maybe the Federal Reserve. But I needed to give myself time to make the move.
Dream #2
I was in a house with my mother, my sister, and probably my brother. The weather was a little wintry, but tornadoes were causing destruction nearby. The tornadoes were in the northwest of the city. We were in the northeast. I saw in my mind a diagram of quadrants, with the northwest and northeast quadrants labeled.
I told my mom we should get out of here. I sat on the floor by my sister. My mom stood over us. My mom said, "There's nothing to worry about. The storms are in the northwest."
I said, "But they'll move!"
My mom said, "Alright, alright. Everybody into the car."
I was in the kitchen. I slung a small, plastic bag of something over my shoulder. Some animal like a rabbit pulled the whole thing into its mouth. I turned around and pulled the animal off the bag. The animal was now like a cocker spaniel. The dog scurried around violently. I knelt down. I may have been wearing shorts. I had bare legs. The dog was biting my legs.
All around us were empty boxes of food, like cereal boxes. I knew the dog was hungry. I tried to find it some food. Only one box still had food in it. The food was like Froot Loops, but it was like someone had already poured milk on them and the milk had dried, leaving the cereal all caked together. I knew that food probably wasn't good for anything to eat. But I was still trying to get it out of the box to feed the dog.
Dream #3
I was in a hotel room in Boston. I might just have come back in after having been out for a couple hours. The room was dimmish. I stood before the door. The cleaning lady knocked and then came inside. She said she was sorry if she was bothering me. I said it was no big deal.
I walked over and sat on the bed. The bed was undone, the blankets in a heap. I saw a used Band-Aid on my bed. i knew it wasn't my Band-Aid, and that I had laid in bed all night with my feet touching somebody's used Band-Aid.
I turned on the TV. I thought about my old co-worker and mentor ES or my boss BS having once said they weren't particular about the hotel they stayed in. They could even stay in the hotel I was in right now -- the Shawmut.
Dream #4
I was at "my dad's house," which was somewhere in the woods. We were getting ready to go, possibly to a movie in a nearby city. But we realized that my mom had taken all the keys for the cars. (This is odd -- we all had handfuls of sets of keys. It was more like the cars were all gone.)
I was angry that my mom could leave us stuck like this without leaving us any idea of when she would be back. My sister and I tried to call my mom on her cell phone, but my mom wasn't answering. Finally I said, "I can get out of here myself. I don't need a car. I can walk."
I imagined a few trails running through a mountain meadow. My only fear was that my mom would come after I'd started walking and make me look like a fool for having been impatient to leave.
Dream #5
(Vision?) I stood before a mirrored wall with a Duane Reade sign and doorway around it.
Friday, January 25, 2013
(3/6/08) calling out to an old friend
(Entered in paper journal at 5:45 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
It was daytime. I walked down a sidewalk on a slight hill with my old friend R. The sidewalk banked against a wide road that was slightly busy with car traffic.
We were now at the bottom of the hill, coming back toward the sidewalk as if through a hole in a fence bordering a weedy, wooded area. Across the street we saw four smokestacks barely peering above the bare (as if in winter) canopies of another wooded area. The stacks emitted steam like cirrus clouds.
I made a cynical comment about smokestacks. I then realized that smokestacks had something to do with R's business. Now R would be mad at me for making a comment that seemed to be aimed against his work.
We were back near the top of the hill. R was a little higher up than I, in a "shop" like a very small wood shack that was set up right on the sidewalk. I walked into the "shop" and started talking to R.
But then I got a look at my limbs. They were grotesquely thin. I wondered what could have happened to me. I thought I must have been stricken by some disease without having realized it all this time. I got very afraid and cried out to my friend R.
Dream #1
It was daytime. I walked down a sidewalk on a slight hill with my old friend R. The sidewalk banked against a wide road that was slightly busy with car traffic.
We were now at the bottom of the hill, coming back toward the sidewalk as if through a hole in a fence bordering a weedy, wooded area. Across the street we saw four smokestacks barely peering above the bare (as if in winter) canopies of another wooded area. The stacks emitted steam like cirrus clouds.
I made a cynical comment about smokestacks. I then realized that smokestacks had something to do with R's business. Now R would be mad at me for making a comment that seemed to be aimed against his work.
We were back near the top of the hill. R was a little higher up than I, in a "shop" like a very small wood shack that was set up right on the sidewalk. I walked into the "shop" and started talking to R.
But then I got a look at my limbs. They were grotesquely thin. I wondered what could have happened to me. I thought I must have been stricken by some disease without having realized it all this time. I got very afraid and cried out to my friend R.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
(3/23/08) machine gun trampoline; suicidal woman; seeing old friends; zombie city fair
(Entered in paper journal at 9:08 AM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and Third Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
Possibly a vision of a man in a car. The man may have had no hands. Then a man on a ship, possibly talking on the phone about making a shipment of gold. The scene switched to the man on the other end of the line. He made some comment like, "You better make this shipment snatchy."
The man looked like a white crook from the 1970s. He wore a multicolored, striped suit. He was in some kind of crowded area, like a small warehouse. Behind him was a thin man at a desk, facing the wall, his back facing the man. The man at the desk wore an outfit like a policeman's uniform. He had close-cut, black hair. He may have been "played by" Tom Hanks. The first man and the Tom Hanks man were both cops on an undercover mission.
The first man hung up the phone and walked over to the Tom Hanks man, who said something in a gruff voice. I was impressed that Tom Hanks was using a voice so different from his natural voice.
The scene switched. The Tom Hanks man was now (also?) the man with the missing hand. The man was now only missing one hand, not two. A crocodile had bitten off the missing hand. The man was in a room which had water up to about knee-depth. The crocodile was swimming around in this room.
The man had a machine gun. He found the crocodile and fought it, yelling things like, "You want to try and take my other hand? Take this!" The man shoved the machine gun into the crocodile's mouth and began shooting.
There was now a scene like at a circus. There were two large trampolines. A clown was jumping on the left trampoline. He was doing "difficult tricks," which were mainly just jumping and twirling, no flips or anything.
The Tom Hanks man said, "Now they" (the people who funded the circus?) "want to make the trampoline fabric even thinner. But it's barely wide enough to prevent accidents even now!"
I looked at the trampolines. Instead of the fabric being the entire circle, there was just a thin stretch of fabric in the center. The rest of the circle was just a frame of springs.
The jumping clown landed just off the mat and fell in the springs. He untangled himself from the springs and stood on the ground. I knew that the clowns were already learning how to jump on fabric this thin and could actually learn how to jump on even thinner fabric.
Dream #2
It was the late 1800s or early 1900s. I stood before a woman like the main woman from the Francis Ford Coppola film Youth Without Youth. I held the woman's hands in mine. The woman's eyes seemed enormous somehow. The woman told me she wanted to kill herself.
Dream #3
I was at the house of my friend R and his wife L. We stood with something between us, something like a model of a spacecraft from a science fiction movie or even a long ship like a Viking vessel. I hadn't wanted to come to R and L's house, and I especially hadn't wanted to meet with R and L, but I'd had to retrieve something I'd left at their place.
I was speaking with R and L and acting cheerful. But I was upset that I'd even had to start speaking to them. I was leaving now. I walked down a straight, long flight of steps that got dimmer and dimmer, lit only by the light of R and L's apartment. Either R or L told me they hoped I would come back soon. I knew my feelings of obligation would probably make me come back.
Dream #4
I was traveling with a group of people. There were a few carloads of us. Zombies had overtaken America, presumably. We were driving from town to town, avoiding zombies as well as we could.
It was dark night. we were in an abandoned town. We were running low on supplies, but apparently we would take new supplies from each town. And even though we were running low on supplies, our cars were full of things we needed.
Some of us found the setup of a city fair. Some people in the group managed to turn on a lot of the rides. I stood outside the whole thing with a couple other people, watching the people ride the rides. The place was full of warmth and color. I thought, Let them have their fun. Things have been fun. They'll probably just get tougher. Let these people have fun while they can.
Suddenly jets flew at us from he horizon. The military spotted all our lights and thought we were zombies trying to lay some kind of strange trap. they dropped bombs on us. I didn't see the bombs. Instead I saw as if I were facing two people watching the bombs drop. I could tell the bombs had hit one or two of our cars. I felt a wave of despair. Not only did we just lose some of the things we needed; we also lost one or two of our only transportation sources.
Another series of bombs dropped. They hit the city fair. A final series of bombs destroyed a house from which we had hoped to gather supplies.
It was now daytime. We were driving through an abandoned (?) large city. We drove through an office park, past a long lawn-island, and through a multiple intersection of roads and building parking lots. We approached a building which may possibly have had an old courthouse look to it, though it may also have partly been a modern office building.
I thought about a police officer we had been dealing with -- a "Mr. (?) Simms." He might have been a zombie. But somehow we were also working with him to prevent ourselves from being thought of as zombies. I knew there would actually be trouble if we kept dealing with him.
I thought back to the last time we'd seen the officer. We'd dropped him off at a building like the courthouse. He'd been in a very weird state, almost like drunkenness. I was sure now that he had in fact then been becoming a zombie.
Dream #1
Possibly a vision of a man in a car. The man may have had no hands. Then a man on a ship, possibly talking on the phone about making a shipment of gold. The scene switched to the man on the other end of the line. He made some comment like, "You better make this shipment snatchy."
The man looked like a white crook from the 1970s. He wore a multicolored, striped suit. He was in some kind of crowded area, like a small warehouse. Behind him was a thin man at a desk, facing the wall, his back facing the man. The man at the desk wore an outfit like a policeman's uniform. He had close-cut, black hair. He may have been "played by" Tom Hanks. The first man and the Tom Hanks man were both cops on an undercover mission.
The first man hung up the phone and walked over to the Tom Hanks man, who said something in a gruff voice. I was impressed that Tom Hanks was using a voice so different from his natural voice.
The scene switched. The Tom Hanks man was now (also?) the man with the missing hand. The man was now only missing one hand, not two. A crocodile had bitten off the missing hand. The man was in a room which had water up to about knee-depth. The crocodile was swimming around in this room.
The man had a machine gun. He found the crocodile and fought it, yelling things like, "You want to try and take my other hand? Take this!" The man shoved the machine gun into the crocodile's mouth and began shooting.
There was now a scene like at a circus. There were two large trampolines. A clown was jumping on the left trampoline. He was doing "difficult tricks," which were mainly just jumping and twirling, no flips or anything.
The Tom Hanks man said, "Now they" (the people who funded the circus?) "want to make the trampoline fabric even thinner. But it's barely wide enough to prevent accidents even now!"
I looked at the trampolines. Instead of the fabric being the entire circle, there was just a thin stretch of fabric in the center. The rest of the circle was just a frame of springs.
The jumping clown landed just off the mat and fell in the springs. He untangled himself from the springs and stood on the ground. I knew that the clowns were already learning how to jump on fabric this thin and could actually learn how to jump on even thinner fabric.
Dream #2
It was the late 1800s or early 1900s. I stood before a woman like the main woman from the Francis Ford Coppola film Youth Without Youth. I held the woman's hands in mine. The woman's eyes seemed enormous somehow. The woman told me she wanted to kill herself.
Dream #3
I was at the house of my friend R and his wife L. We stood with something between us, something like a model of a spacecraft from a science fiction movie or even a long ship like a Viking vessel. I hadn't wanted to come to R and L's house, and I especially hadn't wanted to meet with R and L, but I'd had to retrieve something I'd left at their place.
I was speaking with R and L and acting cheerful. But I was upset that I'd even had to start speaking to them. I was leaving now. I walked down a straight, long flight of steps that got dimmer and dimmer, lit only by the light of R and L's apartment. Either R or L told me they hoped I would come back soon. I knew my feelings of obligation would probably make me come back.
Dream #4
I was traveling with a group of people. There were a few carloads of us. Zombies had overtaken America, presumably. We were driving from town to town, avoiding zombies as well as we could.
It was dark night. we were in an abandoned town. We were running low on supplies, but apparently we would take new supplies from each town. And even though we were running low on supplies, our cars were full of things we needed.
Some of us found the setup of a city fair. Some people in the group managed to turn on a lot of the rides. I stood outside the whole thing with a couple other people, watching the people ride the rides. The place was full of warmth and color. I thought, Let them have their fun. Things have been fun. They'll probably just get tougher. Let these people have fun while they can.
Suddenly jets flew at us from he horizon. The military spotted all our lights and thought we were zombies trying to lay some kind of strange trap. they dropped bombs on us. I didn't see the bombs. Instead I saw as if I were facing two people watching the bombs drop. I could tell the bombs had hit one or two of our cars. I felt a wave of despair. Not only did we just lose some of the things we needed; we also lost one or two of our only transportation sources.
Another series of bombs dropped. They hit the city fair. A final series of bombs destroyed a house from which we had hoped to gather supplies.
It was now daytime. We were driving through an abandoned (?) large city. We drove through an office park, past a long lawn-island, and through a multiple intersection of roads and building parking lots. We approached a building which may possibly have had an old courthouse look to it, though it may also have partly been a modern office building.
I thought about a police officer we had been dealing with -- a "Mr. (?) Simms." He might have been a zombie. But somehow we were also working with him to prevent ourselves from being thought of as zombies. I knew there would actually be trouble if we kept dealing with him.
I thought back to the last time we'd seen the officer. We'd dropped him off at a building like the courthouse. He'd been in a very weird state, almost like drunkenness. I was sure now that he had in fact then been becoming a zombie.
Monday, January 21, 2013
(4/30/08) momentum
(Entered in paper journal at 6:19 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I stood out on a sidewalk at night with a group of people before a long folding table. The table was stacked with meals that we were assigned to take to older, probably housebound, people. I was paired up to deliver a meal with a pretty, blonde girl with long hair.
I bent over the table to grab a meal. I was wearing loose, tan, casual pants like for the summer and pink panties. The pretty girl stood to my right. I bent over so that she could see the waistband of my panties above the waistband of my pants. I hoped the girl would be turned on by the sight.
As we walked away from the table and into a suburban neighborhood (but, possibly, first through a college neighborhood?) I realized the girl might think I was a fool for trying to show off the fact that I was wearing panties.
The girl and I got slightly separated. The areas we had been walking through had been pretty well lit by orange streetlamp. But now things were dim. The sky was also swarming with steely, wiry, grey clouds.
I had gotten ahead of the girl. I now ran back toward her. I saw her standing around the corner at the end of the block, which was at the top of a slight hill.
Somehow I was now running in a different direction. To show the girl I was good or strong (or, simply, not a fool), I began flying. I flew with my stomach only a foot or so above the sidewalk.
I flew under a barren tree like a cherry tree but with the branches more gnarled and spiky and densely spaced. I decided I would loop under, around, above, and back under the tree canopy to show how well I could fly.
But I couldn't quite do it. I couldn't keep my momentum up through the whole loop. I fell down through the canopy once, or maybe even twice. I tried to consider how I would keep up my momentum.
Suddenly I sat up in bed. I must have been in a young boy's bedroom. The lights were on. I was under a blanket that might have had an action cartoon scene on it. To my left were plastic figures, like Star Wars figures, in all different sizes, from maybe two feet tall to the standard action-figure size, i.e. around three inches tall.
I could hear myself having a conversation with my friend R. I got up and walked around the room and into the hallway. I thought I heard R at the front door.
I was going to check through the peephole. But as I walked to the door I was pulled back. R's dog bit some part of me, like the hollow behind my knee or the hollow behind my elbow, and pulled me back toward the bed. I laughed at the dog and probably fell down onto the bed.
Dream #1
I stood out on a sidewalk at night with a group of people before a long folding table. The table was stacked with meals that we were assigned to take to older, probably housebound, people. I was paired up to deliver a meal with a pretty, blonde girl with long hair.
I bent over the table to grab a meal. I was wearing loose, tan, casual pants like for the summer and pink panties. The pretty girl stood to my right. I bent over so that she could see the waistband of my panties above the waistband of my pants. I hoped the girl would be turned on by the sight.
As we walked away from the table and into a suburban neighborhood (but, possibly, first through a college neighborhood?) I realized the girl might think I was a fool for trying to show off the fact that I was wearing panties.
The girl and I got slightly separated. The areas we had been walking through had been pretty well lit by orange streetlamp. But now things were dim. The sky was also swarming with steely, wiry, grey clouds.
I had gotten ahead of the girl. I now ran back toward her. I saw her standing around the corner at the end of the block, which was at the top of a slight hill.
Somehow I was now running in a different direction. To show the girl I was good or strong (or, simply, not a fool), I began flying. I flew with my stomach only a foot or so above the sidewalk.
I flew under a barren tree like a cherry tree but with the branches more gnarled and spiky and densely spaced. I decided I would loop under, around, above, and back under the tree canopy to show how well I could fly.
But I couldn't quite do it. I couldn't keep my momentum up through the whole loop. I fell down through the canopy once, or maybe even twice. I tried to consider how I would keep up my momentum.
Suddenly I sat up in bed. I must have been in a young boy's bedroom. The lights were on. I was under a blanket that might have had an action cartoon scene on it. To my left were plastic figures, like Star Wars figures, in all different sizes, from maybe two feet tall to the standard action-figure size, i.e. around three inches tall.
I could hear myself having a conversation with my friend R. I got up and walked around the room and into the hallway. I thought I heard R at the front door.
I was going to check through the peephole. But as I walked to the door I was pulled back. R's dog bit some part of me, like the hollow behind my knee or the hollow behind my elbow, and pulled me back toward the bed. I laughed at the dog and probably fell down onto the bed.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
(5/7/08) tarot drones; the pathetic cat; "no clothes! no clothes!"
Dream #1
I was on a gigantic stairway with a group of people. The steps were wide and shallow, probably carpeted in red. The light was warm and incandescent. We were all using some kind of joystick or remote to control either a character in a video game or a machine in an area like the one we were in. A teacher was telling us how to use the machine.
I got up to a point where the stairs turned left. The steps continued up to a nice hallway with chandeliers. I turned around, to look back down the steps. The teacher told me not to turn my head too quickly, as that would make the thing I was controlling lose its balance.
I could now see as if I were looking at a screen through the video game character's/machine's eyes. The machine looked like a machine from Star Wars, with two log legs and a box-like cabin on top. It was silvery grey, maybe as tall as a person. Its purpose was to wander through this space in search of some kind of secret or special material.
The machine got to the foot of the steps. It turned right, possibly around the corner of a stone wall, and faced a bridge (still inside this building) which was wide and made of flat, yellowish stones. All along the entrance to the bridge were yellow and blue poker chips. I knew they were the secret material and they stood for money.
I bent down (as if I were in the game and was now a person and not a machine) and put my hands on top of the chips. As I did, they disappeared. I told myself not to pick up all the chips, because I couldn't slow myself down. There would be plenty of other opportunities to get more chips during my travels.
I now saw a thinnish, Asian man walk around a corner to a quiet area with cobbled floors and a brick wall. The cobbles were reddish and uneven. The man had grey and black hair and wore a flannel shirt and a tan vest. He sat down on the ground and started playing with something, possibly cards.
Now I was where the man had been, and I was playing with the cards. I had laid the cards face-down, some on the ground, and some on a box. I was now turning them face-up. After having turned up one or two cards, I began trying to guess what each next card would be before I turned it up. But I kept guessing incorrectly.
The cards were like playing cards, but the patterns of their pips were very strange. For instance, one card had a very thin rectangle in its center and in the rectangle were three red shapes, like spades (?) or diamonds. This was either an ace or a three -- I didn't really know which!
A couple men walked out through a door behind me and to my left, then past me on my right. One of them might have been my boss BS. One of them commented, "You're trying to tell your future?"
I felt ashamed because it did look like that was what I was doing. I looked down to the cards. They now looked like tarot cards, except the images were very vague, as if they were showing pink clouds or green sea.
I said something like, "Well, if I am, it isn't working! I haven't gotten anything right!" This was supposed to show that I didn't believe anything like tarot cards could be real.
I stood up to follow the men. We walked out to a place that looked like the outdoors, with cobbled sidewalks and maybe some building fronts, possibly on a muggy, sunny day. There was only one man now. He looked like JH, one of my bosses from an Americorps project I did in 2002. The man kept drifting farther and farther away from me.
The man said some weird quote that sounded vaguely, but not quite, like a common quote, like "Trust the enemy; he's your boss." This quote was apparently pretty widely employed as a cap to conversations made regarding things not going smoothly at work or in the government, etc.
I thought the man's statement was cheesy, but I said something sarcastic to sound like I cynically agreed, like, "Well, that always gets us by pretty good, doesn't it?"
The man chuckled as he disappeared into the distance.
I stood in a suburban neighborhood on a summer day. I was at the top of a slightly sloped road. I walked down the slope as I "recalled" a group of people talking about an organization that claimed to have been against the Vietnam War but that did things which on further investigation actually supported the war.
I got to the bottom of the slope, the corner of the block, and turned right. There was a house just down the way and on my right. I could see the people inside, as if they were sitting in a playhouse.
I "recalled" how the people called the organization in question a word which was a derogatory combination of two words which would mean "to support" and "to denounce." The word began with either "gr" or "ga."
I turned the possible ways of combining the two words as I walked into a small, plastic playhouse. The walls of the playhouse were yellow. There might have been a plastic jack-o-lantern sitting on a brown, plastic table in front of me and to my left, right by the front door. I could see a dense curtain of leafs outside a small window to my left.
One or two people stood outside the house and closed me in. I was pretty sure the people had locked me in. But I hadn't been able to stop them: I'd been too preoccupied with getting the combinations of the two words in my head in the funniest and most derogatory way.
Dream #2
I was in the bedroom of what seemed to be a modern apartment in a city like New York. The carpet was grey, and the walls were white. There was one window stretching along the wall to my left. I sat on a wide and disheveled bed.
A weird animal caught my attention. At first it seemed like a little mouse. Then it was more like a fake (but living) animal made out of cotton balls or big tufts of polyester padding coated in patches of brownish paint. It was about as big as a rabbit and had black eyes.
The animal ran backward when it saw I was looking at it. It sood by a heating vent by the window-sill/wall. I patted on the bed, beckoning the animal to come near me. I didn't think the animal was cute, by any means, but I felt like it was intelligent. So I felt like I should treat the animal as if it were a cute domestic animal, so it would feel good about itself.
The animal jumped up on the bed with me. It became black-grey. It was telling me some kind of story about why it preferred not to be free to run around the house.
I now stood over a roughly four-foot-tall, gold-barred, domed birdcage in which the animal sat, as if crouched and defensively opposed to me. The floor of the cage was messy with paper and cloth.
I now stood on the other side of the room. I was on the right side of the bed. The cage had probably been on the left side. A woman, like my friend R's wife L (?) looked out a small window and was telling the story of how she and my friend R had picked up a cat that they really liked. As L told this story, an orange cat bit my right index finger harder and harder.
L said they had picked up one cat before, but that it had been no good. Then one night, in the pouring rain, as L and R were driving along, there was a black cat wearing white satin gloves on its forelegs. The cat looked like it was barely alive. It was emaciated and heaved long breaths, like it was having trouble breathing. As L told the story, I imagined a cat as tall as a human.
L said, "The cat looked so pathetic, almost like a pathetic human being. So we just had to take it home."
I noticed the orange cat, still biting my finger, was laughing at the story. L started laughing. too, about how pathetic the black cat had looked. At first I thought the cat was just laughing to mimic L's actions. But I was astounded to find that the cat could understand what L was saying.
The cat was laughing silently, in little, sneeze-like chuckles, and had loosened its grip on my finger. Then the cat stopped laughing. It had teary eyes, as if it had been laughing at a good memory of a dear, departed friend.
The cat then said, "I do love L's sense of humor, and I used to love being around her because of it. But then her dark side started showing. It really overtook her. It became too much for me to stay around her and watch her hurting herself all the time like this."
I looked for what the cat meant. I pulled the blanket off from the head of the bed. There was a tangle of clear, plastic tubes and brightly colored, plastic clips. I knew all this was a kind of drugging and torture system R used on L. At first L had just taken part in the drugging and torture game to please R. But now she was addicted to it. And now she wanted to get me addicted to it, too.
Dream #3
I stood naked in a house, before a curtained, sliding-glass door. The thin, white curtain billowed gently in the breeze, as if the door were open. I walked toward the curtain. A shortish, Hispanic or Asian woman pulled the curtain back to come into the house. It was dark outside.
I was ashamed of my nakedness. I hid myself behind the curtain. I tried to get the woman to go back outside so she wouldn't be offended by my nakedness and so I could go put on some clothes. I shouted something stupid like, "No! No! Go! No clothes! No clothes!" as if this woman could only understand very simple, halting English.
The woman just giggled and said something like, "No, no, come, come." She took my hands and pulled me toward a bedroom. As we got to the threshold, the woman, walking backward into the room, turned to her left (my right) so I couldn't see her. She kept hold of my hands. I might have thought that the woman was going to dress me herself.
I was on a gigantic stairway with a group of people. The steps were wide and shallow, probably carpeted in red. The light was warm and incandescent. We were all using some kind of joystick or remote to control either a character in a video game or a machine in an area like the one we were in. A teacher was telling us how to use the machine.
I got up to a point where the stairs turned left. The steps continued up to a nice hallway with chandeliers. I turned around, to look back down the steps. The teacher told me not to turn my head too quickly, as that would make the thing I was controlling lose its balance.
I could now see as if I were looking at a screen through the video game character's/machine's eyes. The machine looked like a machine from Star Wars, with two log legs and a box-like cabin on top. It was silvery grey, maybe as tall as a person. Its purpose was to wander through this space in search of some kind of secret or special material.
The machine got to the foot of the steps. It turned right, possibly around the corner of a stone wall, and faced a bridge (still inside this building) which was wide and made of flat, yellowish stones. All along the entrance to the bridge were yellow and blue poker chips. I knew they were the secret material and they stood for money.
I bent down (as if I were in the game and was now a person and not a machine) and put my hands on top of the chips. As I did, they disappeared. I told myself not to pick up all the chips, because I couldn't slow myself down. There would be plenty of other opportunities to get more chips during my travels.
I now saw a thinnish, Asian man walk around a corner to a quiet area with cobbled floors and a brick wall. The cobbles were reddish and uneven. The man had grey and black hair and wore a flannel shirt and a tan vest. He sat down on the ground and started playing with something, possibly cards.
Now I was where the man had been, and I was playing with the cards. I had laid the cards face-down, some on the ground, and some on a box. I was now turning them face-up. After having turned up one or two cards, I began trying to guess what each next card would be before I turned it up. But I kept guessing incorrectly.
The cards were like playing cards, but the patterns of their pips were very strange. For instance, one card had a very thin rectangle in its center and in the rectangle were three red shapes, like spades (?) or diamonds. This was either an ace or a three -- I didn't really know which!
A couple men walked out through a door behind me and to my left, then past me on my right. One of them might have been my boss BS. One of them commented, "You're trying to tell your future?"
I felt ashamed because it did look like that was what I was doing. I looked down to the cards. They now looked like tarot cards, except the images were very vague, as if they were showing pink clouds or green sea.
I said something like, "Well, if I am, it isn't working! I haven't gotten anything right!" This was supposed to show that I didn't believe anything like tarot cards could be real.
I stood up to follow the men. We walked out to a place that looked like the outdoors, with cobbled sidewalks and maybe some building fronts, possibly on a muggy, sunny day. There was only one man now. He looked like JH, one of my bosses from an Americorps project I did in 2002. The man kept drifting farther and farther away from me.
The man said some weird quote that sounded vaguely, but not quite, like a common quote, like "Trust the enemy; he's your boss." This quote was apparently pretty widely employed as a cap to conversations made regarding things not going smoothly at work or in the government, etc.
I thought the man's statement was cheesy, but I said something sarcastic to sound like I cynically agreed, like, "Well, that always gets us by pretty good, doesn't it?"
The man chuckled as he disappeared into the distance.
I stood in a suburban neighborhood on a summer day. I was at the top of a slightly sloped road. I walked down the slope as I "recalled" a group of people talking about an organization that claimed to have been against the Vietnam War but that did things which on further investigation actually supported the war.
I got to the bottom of the slope, the corner of the block, and turned right. There was a house just down the way and on my right. I could see the people inside, as if they were sitting in a playhouse.
I "recalled" how the people called the organization in question a word which was a derogatory combination of two words which would mean "to support" and "to denounce." The word began with either "gr" or "ga."
I turned the possible ways of combining the two words as I walked into a small, plastic playhouse. The walls of the playhouse were yellow. There might have been a plastic jack-o-lantern sitting on a brown, plastic table in front of me and to my left, right by the front door. I could see a dense curtain of leafs outside a small window to my left.
One or two people stood outside the house and closed me in. I was pretty sure the people had locked me in. But I hadn't been able to stop them: I'd been too preoccupied with getting the combinations of the two words in my head in the funniest and most derogatory way.
Dream #2
I was in the bedroom of what seemed to be a modern apartment in a city like New York. The carpet was grey, and the walls were white. There was one window stretching along the wall to my left. I sat on a wide and disheveled bed.
A weird animal caught my attention. At first it seemed like a little mouse. Then it was more like a fake (but living) animal made out of cotton balls or big tufts of polyester padding coated in patches of brownish paint. It was about as big as a rabbit and had black eyes.
The animal ran backward when it saw I was looking at it. It sood by a heating vent by the window-sill/wall. I patted on the bed, beckoning the animal to come near me. I didn't think the animal was cute, by any means, but I felt like it was intelligent. So I felt like I should treat the animal as if it were a cute domestic animal, so it would feel good about itself.
The animal jumped up on the bed with me. It became black-grey. It was telling me some kind of story about why it preferred not to be free to run around the house.
I now stood over a roughly four-foot-tall, gold-barred, domed birdcage in which the animal sat, as if crouched and defensively opposed to me. The floor of the cage was messy with paper and cloth.
I now stood on the other side of the room. I was on the right side of the bed. The cage had probably been on the left side. A woman, like my friend R's wife L (?) looked out a small window and was telling the story of how she and my friend R had picked up a cat that they really liked. As L told this story, an orange cat bit my right index finger harder and harder.
L said they had picked up one cat before, but that it had been no good. Then one night, in the pouring rain, as L and R were driving along, there was a black cat wearing white satin gloves on its forelegs. The cat looked like it was barely alive. It was emaciated and heaved long breaths, like it was having trouble breathing. As L told the story, I imagined a cat as tall as a human.
L said, "The cat looked so pathetic, almost like a pathetic human being. So we just had to take it home."
I noticed the orange cat, still biting my finger, was laughing at the story. L started laughing. too, about how pathetic the black cat had looked. At first I thought the cat was just laughing to mimic L's actions. But I was astounded to find that the cat could understand what L was saying.
The cat was laughing silently, in little, sneeze-like chuckles, and had loosened its grip on my finger. Then the cat stopped laughing. It had teary eyes, as if it had been laughing at a good memory of a dear, departed friend.
The cat then said, "I do love L's sense of humor, and I used to love being around her because of it. But then her dark side started showing. It really overtook her. It became too much for me to stay around her and watch her hurting herself all the time like this."
I looked for what the cat meant. I pulled the blanket off from the head of the bed. There was a tangle of clear, plastic tubes and brightly colored, plastic clips. I knew all this was a kind of drugging and torture system R used on L. At first L had just taken part in the drugging and torture game to please R. But now she was addicted to it. And now she wanted to get me addicted to it, too.
Dream #3
I stood naked in a house, before a curtained, sliding-glass door. The thin, white curtain billowed gently in the breeze, as if the door were open. I walked toward the curtain. A shortish, Hispanic or Asian woman pulled the curtain back to come into the house. It was dark outside.
I was ashamed of my nakedness. I hid myself behind the curtain. I tried to get the woman to go back outside so she wouldn't be offended by my nakedness and so I could go put on some clothes. I shouted something stupid like, "No! No! Go! No clothes! No clothes!" as if this woman could only understand very simple, halting English.
The woman just giggled and said something like, "No, no, come, come." She took my hands and pulled me toward a bedroom. As we got to the threshold, the woman, walking backward into the room, turned to her left (my right) so I couldn't see her. She kept hold of my hands. I might have thought that the woman was going to dress me herself.
(7/4/08) frank sinatra duet; the grey finger; a beautiful tree
(Entered in paper journal at 8:51 AM at Flying Saucer cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a dim cafe or bar. The area was moderately full with people sitting in folding chairs. The people were gathered around a duet that was playing saxophones. One man was black. The other man may have been Frank Sinatra. I seemed to be sitting amid a group of old women.
At some point I got up and walked outside the bar. Then I came back in. The audience seemed less full now. I stood in front of the Frank Sinatra man. The man's saxophone looked like a brass instrument combined with an electric keyboard.
The Frank Sinatra man stopped playing at some point and said something like, "We monitor people very closely. We need to see how serious they are about things before we just start teaching them."
I was outside, on a hill in a desert area during the daytime. I was with a group of people. We were walking down a wide, stone stairway (maybe granite?). I was near the front of the group, my old friend R and I slowly bringing some large, wheeled items like strollers down the steps.
At some point, a woman behind me commented how well I brought the items down the steps. I said something like, "I learned my technique from R."
But now the steps were becoming increasingly shallower (i.e. for foot length, but still staying wide breadth-wise) and increasingly taller. I had to slow down just to get my balance so I could let the thing down to the next step. I started feeling vertigo. I looked ahead. R was ahead of me by a few steps. He didn't seem to be having any problems. I was worried what all the people behind me would think.
But now I was losing balance that the thing and I were floating in the air in front of a step. I had a feeling I would fall hard if I didn't soon find solid ground at my height.
I floated to my right and grabbed onto the branch of a barren tree. It might actually have been the trunk of a limbless tree hunched over the edge of the stairway. I climbed to my right, over to the hillside beside the stairway.
As I did this, someone, possibly my mom, was talking to me about how sick Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was, and how sad it would be when she died. I thought I should tell the person that Jackie O was already dead. But now I couldn't remember whether that were actually true.
I dropped a few inches to the ground and stood on dry soil, maybe cinders, with dry, tan clumps of grass and colorful flowers around me. There were a few people on the staircase around my level.
I might have climbed back onto the staircase. But now I was climbing out from a shady area that had been carved into the staircase. I climbed out from behind a tombstone that stood before the space and continued walking down the steps.
Dream #2
I sat in a movie theater with a woman who sat to my left. The movie theater was full and the movie had begun. The woman was visibly annoyed and finally told me why. I looked at her. A big, grey hand kept poking the back of the woman's neck (the woman's neck being bandaged all the way around, in a thin strip, like in the stories of the woman with secretly severed and barely reattached heads).
I was very afraid. By the looks of the hand, the man annoying the woman must have been huge. But I grabbed the finger and held it still. I told the man to stop poking the woman.
I looked behind the woman. It was now like dim light was on in the theater. The man was now copper-skinned, a little worn-out looking, middle-aged, and fattish. He wore sunglasses. He was less threatening-looking than the dark-grey monster he had seemed to be before. But I was now somehow afraid to approach him at all.
Dream #3
I was walking or in a vehicle on a sunny day. I passed by a beautiful tree. The tree was bare but budding. The branches were a deep, smooth crimson. The buds were profuse. They were big and fuzzy, like magnolia buds. But they were a pale, rich beige. The tree glowed against the deep blue sky.
Dream #1
I was in a dim cafe or bar. The area was moderately full with people sitting in folding chairs. The people were gathered around a duet that was playing saxophones. One man was black. The other man may have been Frank Sinatra. I seemed to be sitting amid a group of old women.
At some point I got up and walked outside the bar. Then I came back in. The audience seemed less full now. I stood in front of the Frank Sinatra man. The man's saxophone looked like a brass instrument combined with an electric keyboard.
The Frank Sinatra man stopped playing at some point and said something like, "We monitor people very closely. We need to see how serious they are about things before we just start teaching them."
I was outside, on a hill in a desert area during the daytime. I was with a group of people. We were walking down a wide, stone stairway (maybe granite?). I was near the front of the group, my old friend R and I slowly bringing some large, wheeled items like strollers down the steps.
At some point, a woman behind me commented how well I brought the items down the steps. I said something like, "I learned my technique from R."
But now the steps were becoming increasingly shallower (i.e. for foot length, but still staying wide breadth-wise) and increasingly taller. I had to slow down just to get my balance so I could let the thing down to the next step. I started feeling vertigo. I looked ahead. R was ahead of me by a few steps. He didn't seem to be having any problems. I was worried what all the people behind me would think.
But now I was losing balance that the thing and I were floating in the air in front of a step. I had a feeling I would fall hard if I didn't soon find solid ground at my height.
I floated to my right and grabbed onto the branch of a barren tree. It might actually have been the trunk of a limbless tree hunched over the edge of the stairway. I climbed to my right, over to the hillside beside the stairway.
As I did this, someone, possibly my mom, was talking to me about how sick Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis was, and how sad it would be when she died. I thought I should tell the person that Jackie O was already dead. But now I couldn't remember whether that were actually true.
I dropped a few inches to the ground and stood on dry soil, maybe cinders, with dry, tan clumps of grass and colorful flowers around me. There were a few people on the staircase around my level.
I might have climbed back onto the staircase. But now I was climbing out from a shady area that had been carved into the staircase. I climbed out from behind a tombstone that stood before the space and continued walking down the steps.
Dream #2
I sat in a movie theater with a woman who sat to my left. The movie theater was full and the movie had begun. The woman was visibly annoyed and finally told me why. I looked at her. A big, grey hand kept poking the back of the woman's neck (the woman's neck being bandaged all the way around, in a thin strip, like in the stories of the woman with secretly severed and barely reattached heads).
I was very afraid. By the looks of the hand, the man annoying the woman must have been huge. But I grabbed the finger and held it still. I told the man to stop poking the woman.
I looked behind the woman. It was now like dim light was on in the theater. The man was now copper-skinned, a little worn-out looking, middle-aged, and fattish. He wore sunglasses. He was less threatening-looking than the dark-grey monster he had seemed to be before. But I was now somehow afraid to approach him at all.
Dream #3
I was walking or in a vehicle on a sunny day. I passed by a beautiful tree. The tree was bare but budding. The branches were a deep, smooth crimson. The buds were profuse. They were big and fuzzy, like magnolia buds. But they were a pale, rich beige. The tree glowed against the deep blue sky.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
(8/8/08) nurses, dogs, and an underground bank
(Entered in paper journal at 6:30 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I lay in bed. Natural light dimly lit my room. A couple black women walked before the foot of my bed, from my right to my left, as if they had walked in from one room, into my room, and then out through the hallway.
The women were both nurses. The first one was kind of in shape, but the second was a little heavy. The second nurse wore a green dress. She acted like she wanted to make me feel like she didn't care about me at all. She kind of made a face without looking at me and waved a black Bic pen at me. I didn't care what the woman thought, although I thought the pen looked familiar.
The first woman (both women now out of sight, in the hallway, probably) said to the second woman, "You found it! Give it back to him!" The women walked back into my bedroom. The second woman offered me the pen. I sat up so I could take it. It might have been all chewed and spitty.
The second woman was now flirting with me. She looked different, a little more in shape. She made sexual advances on me. I accepted. She laid me back, with my feet hanging off the bed. I was inside her.
(At this point I may have woken up. I lay in bed thinking about the dream. I had a weird, buzzing feeling all over my body. I got nervous about the feeling -- excited -- thinking it might be the precursor to an astral projection -- and lost it. But I told myself to relax. The feeling came back. I told myself to give in to it as much as I could. I was surrounded by a pool of darkness. I felt a rushing around me.)
I was walking down a city street, more like a plaza or a side-street somehow, with all the stores around me brightly lit. My old friend R walked toward me. He held three dogs on a leash. They may all three have been the dog R actually had in waking life -- except that they were all furry and yet also had either a doberman- or bulldog-like look to them.
I tried to give the dogs as much space as possible, but they would crowd into my way, almost as if directed by R somehow. The dogs growled and scowled at me.
I turned around as R passed me. I made a nasty remark about R and a violent remark regarding the dogs.
I walked into something like a convenience store. Either walking through the convenience store or along the sidewalk I suddenly became hurried, like I had a schedule to meet. I ran to something like a street intersection which was more like a balcony opening into the street. I jumped over the barrier and into the hole.
Down below was a bank, which I called by the name of a bank that is fairly common in the New York City area. There was a huge, closed-shaped service desk in the center of the room. There were a lot of people all around.
As I landed I could feel and hear my breath, almost as if it were a straight flow. The sound and feeling became strange and now it was like it was pulling me back into my body as I lay in my bed.
Dream #1
I lay in bed. Natural light dimly lit my room. A couple black women walked before the foot of my bed, from my right to my left, as if they had walked in from one room, into my room, and then out through the hallway.
The women were both nurses. The first one was kind of in shape, but the second was a little heavy. The second nurse wore a green dress. She acted like she wanted to make me feel like she didn't care about me at all. She kind of made a face without looking at me and waved a black Bic pen at me. I didn't care what the woman thought, although I thought the pen looked familiar.
The first woman (both women now out of sight, in the hallway, probably) said to the second woman, "You found it! Give it back to him!" The women walked back into my bedroom. The second woman offered me the pen. I sat up so I could take it. It might have been all chewed and spitty.
The second woman was now flirting with me. She looked different, a little more in shape. She made sexual advances on me. I accepted. She laid me back, with my feet hanging off the bed. I was inside her.
(At this point I may have woken up. I lay in bed thinking about the dream. I had a weird, buzzing feeling all over my body. I got nervous about the feeling -- excited -- thinking it might be the precursor to an astral projection -- and lost it. But I told myself to relax. The feeling came back. I told myself to give in to it as much as I could. I was surrounded by a pool of darkness. I felt a rushing around me.)
I was walking down a city street, more like a plaza or a side-street somehow, with all the stores around me brightly lit. My old friend R walked toward me. He held three dogs on a leash. They may all three have been the dog R actually had in waking life -- except that they were all furry and yet also had either a doberman- or bulldog-like look to them.
I tried to give the dogs as much space as possible, but they would crowd into my way, almost as if directed by R somehow. The dogs growled and scowled at me.
I turned around as R passed me. I made a nasty remark about R and a violent remark regarding the dogs.
I walked into something like a convenience store. Either walking through the convenience store or along the sidewalk I suddenly became hurried, like I had a schedule to meet. I ran to something like a street intersection which was more like a balcony opening into the street. I jumped over the barrier and into the hole.
Down below was a bank, which I called by the name of a bank that is fairly common in the New York City area. There was a huge, closed-shaped service desk in the center of the room. There were a lot of people all around.
As I landed I could feel and hear my breath, almost as if it were a straight flow. The sound and feeling became strange and now it was like it was pulling me back into my body as I lay in my bed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)