(
Entered in paper journal at 9:45 AM at Starbucks on Twenty-ninth Street and Park Avenue.)
Dream #1
A television show with a group of people, possibly teenagers, like a cartoon, except possibly live action. The kids had been drawn to a place that looked like a beach-view balcony deck on a sunny day. I may now have been in the group of teenagers. We stood before a glass double door, the doors (or one door?) of which were swung inwardly open.
A little person or creature had lured us this far. I now felt like he had tricked us into coming here so his master could do something to us. The little creature walked halfway into the left side of the threshold, pushing the door even more open.
The boy leader of the group of teenagers (maybe I was the leader) was now to follow the creature. The creature magically shrank the boy. I could see the boy's (my?) shadow on the ground. As the boy shrank, the shadow stayed the same size.
The creature had the boy floating in the air. He levitated the boy over to a chair inside the room. The room was slightly dim, as if all the curtains were closed but there were still plenty of natural light coming into the room.
The chair at first had thin, wooden legs and green, plush cushioning for the seat and back. But for a moment the whole scene became a cartoon. At this point (and possibly even when the scene changed back into live action) the chair was wooden, like the chair for a school desk. The room, which had previously been like a room in a resort, was now more like a mix between that room and some kind of mountain-roadside grocery store.
The creature had told the shrunken boy that he would find shoes for the boy. The shoes would, of course, be enormous to the boy, who was now perhaps an inch tall at most. Nevertheless, the boy would have to pay for the shoes. This itself was some kind of torture for the boy.
Behind the chair was a wall of grid-like shelves or cubby-holes, with shoes in every cubby-hole. To the left of the chair was the cashier's counter, which also somehow looked like a concierge's counter. A rough-looking man, perhaps a little stout, Hispanic looking, with a dark blue winter jacket and a wool cap, stood behind the desk. Behind him may have been wooden shelves stacked with old-looking canned and boxed food.
Another man leaned on the right side of the counter. Before him were two open boxes of shoes. A man stood across from him. Both men were rough-looking, both wearing winter clothes. The man on the left was huge, at least a head taller than the other two men, and pretty heavy. The man on the right was also big, though not as big. He looked a little tougher and more cunning. He wore a black, leather jacket, a little big on him. The man on the left wore a slightly padded black jacket with a grey, hooded sweatshirt underneath.
The man on the left was a customer. The man on the right was the boss of the store. The boss was trying to rip off the customer. I could see the shoes (in the right box?) he was trying to sell the customer. The shoes were too small. At first they were like dark brown leather loafers, the kind with the chunky seams and cords of leather binding the seams around the toes. But then the shoes became wood. They looked like clogs.
The customer said, "I don't want these. These aren't what I asked for at all."
The boss sneered, "What do I care? What do you want me to do about it?" I could now tell the boss was some kind of crime boss.
The customer said, "You can give me my money back!"
I knew the situation was going to get dangerous. The boss said, "I'm not gonna do that."
The customer said, "Alright. Have it your way, then."
The customer reached into his left pocket. He was about to pull out a gun. But with lightning speed the boss pulled a gun from his right pocket and fired a few shots into the customer's gut. For a moment I could see the customer's font as if his skin were transparent. I could see the customer's torn intestines.
The customer was dazed, as if shock had already caused him to forget he'd just been shot. He stood like a robot as the boss said, "Now what are you gonna do? Come back tomorrow and give me trouble?"
The customer said, "I just might."
The customer turned and walked out the exit (which was another double-door of glass to the left, with the doors open). Outside was a grey stone courtyard, in bright grey light as if it were a cloudy day.
The customer got a few steps outside and then fell over, to a hunched or kneeling position. Blood had just now begun to gush out from his abdomen. The customer might also have started throwing up blood. The customer was now in a position like a "weak man's push-up," i.e. on all fours, with the legs together and arms out about shoulder-width, but with the body bent in the middle so that the man's bottom was poking up in the air.
The customer's abdomen would plop out a bloody mass, then hold off and then plop again.
The customer called to the boss, "Hey, XXXXX, I don't think I'll becoming back next week or next month or even next year. In fact, I don't think I'll ever be coming here again!" He was saying this as if the boss were his friend, a superior friend, like the boss of a crime gang in which both men had been involved. It was also like the customer had just realized he was dying and he was now imploring the only nearby person who knew him at all to give him sympathy as he was dying.
The boss just looked on as if the customer's whole situation was just silly and pathetic.
Dream #2
I walked into a discount clothing store. The store may have been set up into tiered or stair-stepping levels, going higher and higher farther back into the store. I had come in here to find some sexy panties at a cheap price. The store was full of wife-like women in their thirties or forties. They were mostly overweight. Some were Hispanic, some were white. I was relieved that I didn't see anybody I knew or any rough-looking men who might make fun of me for being a man and shopping for panties.
I went a few rows back. I saw a few different displays of lingerie. Some looked either too small or strappy in the crotch for me to fit into. Other stuff looked too boring or to large.
I found a few racks or displays of stuff that looked like it might be really nice. But I would see it too late each time, as I passed it. I would try to turn around and go back to it, but the aisles would either be blocked by people standing fully in the middle of the aisles or charging forward so aggressively that I was afraid to move against them; or else I wouldn't want to catch the eye of a remotely pretty woman or someone who might even possibly know me.
Eventually I thought I saw a way to charge straight back to all the places I missed. I walked quickly and aggressively through a tangle of women, carts, even half-broken or skewed-over racks of clothing. I didn't care who I rushed through.
But I eventually just rushed down a ramp and into a line for the cashier. I wasn't in line. I stood just to the side. But I stood waiting as if I were standing in line. The front of the line was a huge mess of people and carts and cluttered merchandise.
Most of the people in line were women, but there was at least one man: a skinny, scrappy, chicken-shit-looking black-Hispanic boy dressed as a worker in a blue polo shirt and tan khakis, like a Best Buy worker might wear.
This guy was flirting with one of the women. I felt like this guy was standing around right here because he wanted to make sure that
I wasn't flirting with any of these women and that
he was. But I didn't want any of these women -- they all looked like worn-out housewives.
I wanted to get out the door and away from this guy. But now I saw that outside it was starting to rain. The rain got harder and harder very quickly. Now it was storming riotously. The sky was dark grey, and the pounding of the rain against the windows was deafening.
A young, black woman, a little overweight and plain-looking, with darkish orange hair, and also wearing an outfit like that of a Best Buy employee, held me back, pushing me into a huge crowd of fat mothers, from the front of which I'd just emerged.
The girl told me, "You can't go outside. The news just said the weather is a disaster situation. Everybody has to stay inside wherever they are, and the workers have to make sure that everybody stays put." The woman said all of this to me with motherly concern, as if I were a cute boy she felt she had to take care of.
The weather got worse and worse. The girl assured me that everything would be okay, that the storm was getting to its most intense point, and that it would then stop immediately, and that everybody would be alright.
Now the building itself was rocking, as if there was an earthquake. I might have closed my eyes in terror. Suddenly everything was swept away. It was like the building and all the people had been ripped upward by a cyclone. For a moment I stood in the whirling rain. Then all the grey was like a calm, impenetrable fog. Suddenly all was dark.
I saw a house, or a cartoon image of a house, with a red walkway leading up to it. I might also have seen myself as a cartoon, with the house behind me, a small image behind me, with everything else being a black background.
Dream #3
I stood in a place like a bathroom. The room was nice, and it had some of the length and narrowness of a hallway, which I may have thought it was. The walls and floors had a color and shine like finished wood.
I walked past a woman to my left. The woman was short, overweight, white, with shoulder-length black hair and black-rimmed glasses (
like a woman I'd occasionally spoken with at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, a young teacher who lived in Brooklyn but taught way up in upper Manhattan).
The woman sat on a low seat and had her legs up, possibly on a footstool or a wicker box. Before her was a sink. But the sink (it seems now) was so close to the woman's seat that the woman couldn't possibly have stretched out her legs the way she was stretching them.
I handed the woman a stack of pages (typewritten?). I also told her about ideas I was having, as if they were the ideas on the pages, i.e. as if I hadn't yet typed the pages. The woman said, "Those are really good ideas! You and I should work together. We could even get a show on the community television channel! I think you and I would work together really well."
I sheepishly said, "Yeah, that sounds cool!" But I really didn't want to do anything like that at all.
The woman said, "If I had a little boost from your enthusiasm, I'm sure I could really show what a creative and hilarious person I am."
I said, "Yeah, that sounds true." But in my head I thought, You really aren't funny at all.
Dream #4
I was walking on a park or greenbelt path in the sun. It was a nice, warm day. I may have come from some office building. I may also have been carrying a stack of papers in my hand. Oddly, in spite of the heat, I may have been wearing a long, grey, tweed trench coat.
I may have felt a slight twinge of embarrassment from the social situation I had just come from, as if I had pitched a creative idea which was thought o as impractical or eccentric, so that I'd even had to laugh at myself.
But somehow, most of the embarrassment, which had been kind of goodhearted, anyhow, melted away in the beauty of the day. There were tons of people all laying out sunbathing on the strip of lawn, which sloped up, on my left, gently to the street level. To my right may have been a river. I felt happy to see all these people as I walked along. Many of the people were beautiful. The light was at times dim and golden like winter afternoon light and at other times bright and colorful like an unseasonably warm spring day.
A couple of beautiful women caught my eye. The two girls were spooning with each other. The girl in back also had her hand on the front girl's bottom. This turned me on.
The two girls may possibly have been half-covered by a brown blanket. They were both blonde and tan and they both wore two-piece swimsuits. The girl in back wore a neon pink, full-bottomed two-piece. The girl in front wore a thin, white bikini with pink decorations on it like you might see on a pretty pair of cotton panties. The bottom of the girl in back really turned me on.
But the girl in back turned her head and saw that I was looking at her and her girlfriend. She may have covered herself and her girlfriend up even more with the blanket, although I feel like what she actually did was take the blanket off altogether, exposing herself and her girlfriend to me altogether, as if to make the point obvious that the two girls were together and happy and that they didn't care at all about me, even if I was looking at them. I felt as if I had been tricked, as if the girls had half-exposed themselves to turn me on, only to fully expose themselves and jilt me, getting pleasure out of being wanted but unattainable.
I looked out at the rest of the people, half out of wanting to show the girl how quickly I could put her and her girlfriend out of my mind, and half out of sheepish shame, like feeling sorry that somebody -- anybody -- had felt their privacy invaded by my having looked on at them for too long.
I was suddenly annoyed by the crowd of people, possibly as if I realized that I couldn't find a place to lay down here, and that even if I did, I'd still have to contend with all the people who were elbow-close with me. I sped up my walk. Now there were also people walking along the path. I had to doge all of them. Suddenly I came to a walkway that went down a steep slope.
I had just now been thinking to myself about a group of people who had come here from across the seas to perform some kind of religious ritual. I thought, Perhaps there are so many people out here because they all want to see the ritual. But then I realized that the ritual had been over for at least a day. I thought, It's possible the people have gotten back on their ships to go home.
The path I was on was very steep. It was made of asphalt. It worked it was way around the bend of a grey rock face.
I was now descending a grass slope. I had to get onto a thin, dirt path, as if I were on the edge of something, and if I didn't get onto the dirt path with jet-like precision, I'd fall off the edge. I was suddenly giddy with a fear of heights and worry over my aim.
Down below, in a valley, were a thin group of people who looked like Indians or Native Americans. They were running form the shore, planting flag-like stakes of gnarled branches (with bright rectangles of fabric at their tops) into the ground, then running back to the shore.
I thought, Well, they still have more ritual to perform, even though the official ritual is over. But people must only care about the official ritual. The rest isn't famous enough for them to want to be a part of it.
I now came to a tan and orange stone, maybe sandstone, land feature that was like the entrance to the cave, but that also looked like a Utah-style stone arch. It was like this land feature appeared out of nowhere -- my view below had been unobstructed before. It seemed like the land feature was just a shallow tunnel, which would be pretty easy to get through and rather beautiful to look at. Plus, I thought, with this thing blocking out all the scenery, I won't be as afraid of the steepness and height of this path (which was asphalt again).
But as I approached the mouth of the cave, a tiny, black, bee-like insect flew out. I knew the little bee's sting could be rather irksome, but I thought the insect was such a cute, little creature. I turned backwards to look at it.
Behind me were natural walls, all of this tan and orange stone, thought which the path I was on snaked upward. The bee hovered in a pool of sunlight. I greeted the bee and said a few kind, happy words to it. Then I turned forward again.
Now the tunnel was very shallow, a few feet only, like the turning of a corner. I could even see the people in the valley again. But now the dirt path was either unseen or in a different place than I had previously been aiming for. I may have thought to myself how I had screwed up by having turned around instead of continuing forward when the bee had come out of the cave.
Dream #5
A vision of the walls of a library (the "New York Public Library"). The walls were a porous white stone, like the sidewalks and walls of the Grace building. They broke into vertical panels, which clattered more and more apart form each other. As they did this, I saw an old, skinny, wise-looking man beside me (and looking down to me) talking to me. But the sound was muffled and tinny, like my perceptions were blurring or dissolving. Somewhere else there was a solid wood wall, which was also breaking into pieces.
Dream #6
A swarm of tiny, tight, dull yellow and black-grey bees stopped me from walking around a curve (and to the right) of a tiny path in a little, green-lawned park. Somewhere near me may have been a group of my friends, who may have laughed at me for being afraid and stopping at the swarm of bees.
