(Entered in paper journal at 4:15 PM on train from New Haven, Connecticut, to New York City.)
Dream 1
I knew a woman was dead. I saw somehow that she had angered a man who was rich and some type of criminal. I knew he had killed her and (before or after) cut off one of her hands.
I saw something like a cartoon of the woman in some dark blue room like a ballroom. The woman slapped the man in front of all his friends. Either the man or woman was coated in bright red, blod, the only thing (other than the eyes of people) not blue or black. This meant the man was angry and the woman was going to get killed.
I was now in a room with hot pink walls. On a diving "wall" somewhere in the room was a ledge of thin wood that was also painted hot pink. On it stood plastic figurines of a bride and groom. Once again I knew this stood for the man and woman.
I was now as small as the figurines. I stood on the ledge. I knew this meant I was the woman. I knocked the woman figurine off the ledge, somehow trying to reenact her death.
I was walking in the woods. I walked down a trail cluttered with big, schist-like boulders, to a river or lake. All the time I heard a conversation, as if in narration. I was also thinking out how the woma had been killed. I was still the woman, too, though I was myself.
It now all dawned on me, and as it dawned on me, I became sick, like something similar was being done to me, though I hadn't started the feeling the effects until now. I now knew that the man had shot up the woman with some drug in the vertebrae of her neck. When she was paralyzed he did something torturous to her and then, as she was on the verge of death, he cut off one of her hands. She was in a wedding dress.
I was crawling on my belly onto the rocks that waded in the first waters of the river/lake. As I looked at the pool of water surrounded by the boulder I saw so much trash everywhere. There was an upside-down baby carriage that was colored hot pink, with tattered fabric. I was disgusted with the garbage in the water. I thought, This is nature. It shouldn't be so crummy.
I was sick, hardly moving, and afraid that the man who had done this to me would catch up and kill me. I saw the woman's lace-cuffed hand floating palm-up in the water. I felt even sicker.
But now I was standing up, only myself, no longer the woman. I was walking up bouldres that got taller as they got into deeper water. I knew or thought that the rest of the body of the woman would be by the next and last boulder, floating in the shadow of its face, belly up, in her wedding dress, at the fringes of this vast body of water.
As I approached the edge of the boulder, I hunched down, maybe even lay down, suddenly. I didn't want to see the body in the water. I thought something like, That's the last thing I need to see -- more trash in the water.
Showing posts with label injured hand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label injured hand. Show all posts
Thursday, February 16, 2017
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.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
(5/7/09) jet maneuvers; ring of baldness; apocalyptic home improvement
(Entered in paper journal at 9:09 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
A view of a B-52-like plane carrying along a whole school of SR-71-like jets, all tethered to the B-52 by something like metal cords. The B-52 led the SR-71s through a series of maneuvers like for an air show, darting back and forth through the sky.The sky was a darkish, purplish blue, dotted by occasional white clouds, behind which the planes might fly.
I wondered how the planes could all be tethered to the B-52 while going through the maneuvers and manage not to get all tangled up -- especially the SR-71s. As I had this reflection, the SR-71s might have changed into old, World War I style biplanes, painted a purplish blue.
After more maneuvers the planes landed. One of the pilots of the tethered planes stepped out of his plane -- which was now like a somewhat modern, very small private plane. The man was tall, white, a little heavy, with a broad forehead and pale blue eyes. He may have been balding, with short, pale grey hair. He looked exhausted. The right side of his face may at some point have been a little grey, dry, and cracked.
The man was talking about the rigors of these training flights. He spoke about how his thumb (on his right hand?) had gotten smashed or otherwise somehow injured. He said he'd be okay. He had to go up for one more flight, but he could make it. As the man spoke, he looked more and more exhausted. He almost looked like he was dying or becoming a zombie.
I saw the man's injured hand. The thumb was smashed almost flat at the nail. It was all normally colored, though: no bruising or anything. But the thumb was flat, and there was a bloody mass around the sides and top. The man pulled at the thumb, so that the top part of the thumb flapped away from the bottom part a little.
I knew the man normally used this injured hand to manipulate one of the plane's control knobs. I wondered how the man could possibly use the hand. But I also thought that if he did use the hand, the same conditions which caused his thumb to get smashed the first time around would injure his hand even more.
But all the pilots, I knew, had to take the planes up one more time today. They were each taking a child on the flight. The children were special in some sense. Most likely they were terminally ill children, part of a "Make a Wish" type program.
The man now put a thin, blonde girl, maybe nine or ten years old, into the passenger seat of his plane. The girl wore a 1970s style, flowery dress of muted colors, with a white shirt underneath.
The girl requested that the man not do too many rough stunts. The girl was either afraid or too sick to sustain too much force. The man assured the girl that he would take it easy. The flight pattern assigned was very gentle, planned specifically for this special group of children.
The man then put a "helmet" on this girl. The "helmet" looked like a chain-link basket of thin-spun metal links, like the biggest bottom "bowl" in a ceiling-hung series of tiered, mesh-metal "bowls," used in kitchens sometimes to hold fruits or plants or other things.
Dream #2
A man got angry at me. He was either very short or bent down, or else I was standing on a slightly higher level than he. I could see the top of the man's head. The very top and center was bald in a circle maybe one and a half inches in diameter.
The man got madder at me and asked me why I thought I should be so interested in his head. I looked at the man's head again. The circle had a bit of longish, thin hair in it now, leaving only the edges, a ring of baldness. This was something of a relief to me. I had thought that the man's baldness was a sign that I myself would become bald.
Dream #3
I was in the living room of the house my family lived when I was eleven to fifteen years old. Some of my family and friends were also there. It was night. The room was lit with incandescent light. The front door was open.
Something was happening in the neighborhood, maybe even throughout the world, like an attack of killers or zombies. We had to take care of something on the roof, which was sloped and made of tin or some other sheet metal. We were (or I was) afraid to do this. It would likely call the attention of the killers/zombies and put us at great risk.
Dream #1
A view of a B-52-like plane carrying along a whole school of SR-71-like jets, all tethered to the B-52 by something like metal cords. The B-52 led the SR-71s through a series of maneuvers like for an air show, darting back and forth through the sky.The sky was a darkish, purplish blue, dotted by occasional white clouds, behind which the planes might fly.
I wondered how the planes could all be tethered to the B-52 while going through the maneuvers and manage not to get all tangled up -- especially the SR-71s. As I had this reflection, the SR-71s might have changed into old, World War I style biplanes, painted a purplish blue.
After more maneuvers the planes landed. One of the pilots of the tethered planes stepped out of his plane -- which was now like a somewhat modern, very small private plane. The man was tall, white, a little heavy, with a broad forehead and pale blue eyes. He may have been balding, with short, pale grey hair. He looked exhausted. The right side of his face may at some point have been a little grey, dry, and cracked.
The man was talking about the rigors of these training flights. He spoke about how his thumb (on his right hand?) had gotten smashed or otherwise somehow injured. He said he'd be okay. He had to go up for one more flight, but he could make it. As the man spoke, he looked more and more exhausted. He almost looked like he was dying or becoming a zombie.
I saw the man's injured hand. The thumb was smashed almost flat at the nail. It was all normally colored, though: no bruising or anything. But the thumb was flat, and there was a bloody mass around the sides and top. The man pulled at the thumb, so that the top part of the thumb flapped away from the bottom part a little.
I knew the man normally used this injured hand to manipulate one of the plane's control knobs. I wondered how the man could possibly use the hand. But I also thought that if he did use the hand, the same conditions which caused his thumb to get smashed the first time around would injure his hand even more.
But all the pilots, I knew, had to take the planes up one more time today. They were each taking a child on the flight. The children were special in some sense. Most likely they were terminally ill children, part of a "Make a Wish" type program.
The man now put a thin, blonde girl, maybe nine or ten years old, into the passenger seat of his plane. The girl wore a 1970s style, flowery dress of muted colors, with a white shirt underneath.
The girl requested that the man not do too many rough stunts. The girl was either afraid or too sick to sustain too much force. The man assured the girl that he would take it easy. The flight pattern assigned was very gentle, planned specifically for this special group of children.
The man then put a "helmet" on this girl. The "helmet" looked like a chain-link basket of thin-spun metal links, like the biggest bottom "bowl" in a ceiling-hung series of tiered, mesh-metal "bowls," used in kitchens sometimes to hold fruits or plants or other things.
Dream #2
A man got angry at me. He was either very short or bent down, or else I was standing on a slightly higher level than he. I could see the top of the man's head. The very top and center was bald in a circle maybe one and a half inches in diameter.
The man got madder at me and asked me why I thought I should be so interested in his head. I looked at the man's head again. The circle had a bit of longish, thin hair in it now, leaving only the edges, a ring of baldness. This was something of a relief to me. I had thought that the man's baldness was a sign that I myself would become bald.
Dream #3
I was in the living room of the house my family lived when I was eleven to fifteen years old. Some of my family and friends were also there. It was night. The room was lit with incandescent light. The front door was open.
Something was happening in the neighborhood, maybe even throughout the world, like an attack of killers or zombies. We had to take care of something on the roof, which was sloped and made of tin or some other sheet metal. We were (or I was) afraid to do this. It would likely call the attention of the killers/zombies and put us at great risk.
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