(Entered in paper journal at 5:48 AM at Starbucks on 17th Street and Broadway.)
Dream #1
A music video by Gloria Estefan. Estefan's was done up like from the 1940s. The scenes would change from Estefan's standing by herself and singing to the camera to standing and singing in a big, "unfinished"-style bedroom with one or two other women. Estefan's outfits changed, but she generally wore pale colored, satiny, shortish dresses. Estefan's song was to the women, about how she and they always fight and think they're going to break up, but how eventually she gets back together with them.
At "the end" of the video, Estefan was in a dim and small, but elegant-looking bedroom. Estefan wore a black dress. She looked a little fat. She sang about how she could never give up loving so many beautiful girls. She gave a weird, "who me?" troublemaker expression that one might see on an old man in a Fellini film. She reclined on the floor with her hands behind her head. She looked very relaxed. She had a black blanket over her.
From behind Estefan's right shoulder, as if out of the ground, came the head of a Hispanic boy who was somewhat attractive, except that his brow was pulled out a few inches, his eyebrows were very thick, and his mouth awas full of disarranged, misshapen teeth. I saw from the woman's view, i.e. lying on the ground, a man standing over the woman with a machine gun pointed at her.
Now I saw, as if watching a movie, army men in a bedroom with a weird, circular, Asian-style (?) window. The room itself seemed to be ancient, made out of solid, crafted stone. The army men ran at a window, as if the woman had escaped out of it.
The room had gone from being full of men to being empty except a constant "drip" of men (like in an old Nintendo game) appearing just to run at the window. But when the men would jump through the window something awful would happen to them. They would dissolve into a bunch of flying pieces of flesh. I was disgusted, but I tried to look harder at what was happening.
I now stood outside the room, in the dark night. A yellow glow came through the window from the room. The window was key-shaped, with a lattice of intricate, wooden designs in shards at its lower, right edge. Some men would jump through it and become creatures like ravens. Some would jump through and become just clumps of fleshy feathers that fluttered through the air for a moment and then fell scattered all over the ground. Some would jump through and seem fine for a step or two before bloating out into mutated "birdmen" and falling down, dead.
One man didn't even make it through. His top half fell over the outside wall, and he hung there, his back coated in grey-black feathers.
A bunch of soldiers jumped through the window. They stood in a loose formation, facing at a wide, relaxed diagonal to the wall. They held their guns ready to shoot something that may have been up a couple stories.
I was the woman. I stood among the soldiers. Somehow the soldiers didn't see me, but I felt like they would son, and that they would then kill me. I guessed I couldn't escape them. I stood among them, in their loose ranks.
The men were all white, not overly muscular, somewhat red-tanned, most of them with close-cut, darkish blonde hair. I kept waiting for the awful thing to happen to them, like it had happened to the others who had gone through the window, so that they would die before noticing and killing me. I thought, Nobody lasts this long after jumping through the window.
Suddenly the soldiers all grabbed their ears as if they were hearing an awful sound. I thought, It's finally happening. But nothing much happened. One or two of the men may have had some slight melting on their faces. But mostly the soldiers were just made angry by the awful sound. They still didn't see me, but I felt like now, because of the infuriating sound, the men would most certainly kill me if they saw me.
Dream #2
An art work named after a Colorado resort town, possibly Vail or Steamboat. It was a painting like a view from space. The paint was laid on so thick that everything was three-dimensional. It was supposed to be completely realistic, but the "snow" depicted was all red, except at the peaks of some high mountains, where it was actually white. The last name of the artist may have been Burroughs.
I thought the work was very good. I didn't think the work was realistic, per se. But I did think that the red produced a lovely kind of "realistic" atmosphere.
Dream #3
I walked down a hallway with someone, possibly a woman, behind me (and to my right?). The hallway was dim and soothing, but with plain, white tiles and white walls. The hallway ended in a T-shape. At this intersection the walls and floor were black.
Both arms of the T were museum exhibits. I (and probably my friend) had a ticket that would get into both exhibits. The exhibit on the right was the one I had come for: either some unique, colorful sculptures or some kind of photography.
The exhibit on my left caught me totally by surprise: I'd had no idea there was a hall on the left. I wanted to see what it was, even though I thought I would wait to go inside until I had been to the exhibit on the right.
An old man in a security-uniform tie and jacket stood by a clear, plexiglass, turnstile gate to the art exhibit. I didn't want to make the old man think I was trying to get into the left exhibit without showing my ticket, and I didn't see a ticket-taker at this exhibit. So I crept only a couple inches into the exhibit, where the old man could still see me, so I could see the exhibit's name and some of the works on display.
The room was dim, with soft, deep-tan walls. The name of the artist whose works were on display was something like Isamu Noguchi. It might have been more like Tomiguchi.
There was some kind of sculpture in the room. But what mainly caught my eye were silhouette profiles, of black overlaid with cutout, white paper (i.e. the cutout, white paper made the profile seen on the underlying black paper). The profiles were framed very nicely and looked like profiles of nineteenth-century people, mostly children.
The old man cleared his throat at me. I looked back. I sheepishly headed his way. I really desired to show the old man that I wasn't a crook, that I had a ticket, and that I wasn't trying to get into the exhibit without a ticket.
I walked up to the plexiglass gate. The ticket had a barcode. The barcode needed to be ran against a scanner. The waist-high gates would then open. I got nervous about whether my ticket would work at all, or if it would show that I didn't have the right to go into the left exhibit.
I looked into the right exhibit. The walls were black. There were a couple metallic staircases leading up to a short second level. Some blue spotlights slightly glowed amid the overall natural-feeling incandescence, lending tiny, indigo-violet twinkles to the metallic and plexiglass surfaces around me. I felt like I was in some areas from the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.
Dream #4
Two Asian girls wearing puffy outfits that looked like exaggerations of towels wrapped around their bodies. One girl wore a yellow outfit. The other girl wore a blue outfit. The girls were in a big bedroom that was in an old, Asian style but also had touches like a modern college dorm room.
A (very tall!) woman dressed like the evil mother in Ivan the Terrible came into the room. I don't know if the old woman was a mother to one of the daughters. I don't feel like she was, even though I seem to have thought of her as a mother. The woman was distraught because the two girls were in love with each other and were even planning to marry each other.
The girls knew how distraught the woman was. So, to tease the old mother, they stood in front of her and faced each other. They said to the mother, not regarding her, almost regarding each other, but looking slightly up as if to acknowledge slightly that they were speaking to the mother, "We have decided that we love each other like sisters. Yes, we've decided that we really are like sisters. We need to accept that and be like sisters to each other." The old mother was relieved.
Now my view closed up on the girls as they spoke more and more erotically and got closer and closer to each other. They kissed each other, then held hands and bounded lightly to the door, saying, "But we're still in love with each other, too, and we're still going to get married!"
The girls seemed, by having bounded to the door, to be ushering the old mother to the door, thus telling the old mother to leave the room. The old mother was upset again. Some part of her seemed like an old, bald man.
Dream #5
I sat eating long strips of roast beef. A man walked past me and to a door to my left, perhaps telling me, as he passed, that he was going hunting.
I said something to ridicule the man. I thought, It all leads to death. Killing leads to death. Eating dead things just tears up your insides and kills you faster.
I wondered why I was saying all this to myself if I was sitting here eating meat right now. The meat wasn't roast beef. It was like strips of deer or elk meat. I ate it off something like a stretched skin, like on a drum. Something felt Native American about it. The strips of meat themselves seemed fringed and tassled.
Showing posts with label lesbian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lesbian. Show all posts
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Saturday, November 17, 2012
(9/16/09) old friends and sex; college girls' lingerie
(Entered in dream journal at 7:54 AM at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I walked down a sidewalk of brownstone buildings in the daytime. I was going to meet my old friend R and his wife L. I saw them sitting on a staircase in front of a brownstone. I may have been looking at my BlackBerry as I walked up to R and L. I put my BlackBerry down and then looked up at R and L.
We were now in a large restaurant, somewhat fancy, with tall walls. The walls and fixtures were all made of wood and brass. Natural daylight probably came in through windows. We walked up to a table that had booth seats on one side and chairs on the other, with the booth seats' back serving as booth seats' backs on the other side as well.
I may have been standing there by myself, looking at my BlackBerry. I walked over to a much larger booth table, where a lot of people were sitting. These people were all my friends. R and L may have been among them. Behind the people were two tall windows, letting in a dim view of a tallish, brick row building and a deep, clear, blue sky.
I watched a group of women walk out of the row building. The women were all young adults, with short, pale blonde hair and bronzed skin. They wore tight, sleeveless or tank-top shirts and carried boxes or plastic crates with them, as if they were moving out.
Among the women was my old friend PD, who looked odd with short, pale blonde hair. PD seemed to be looking in through the window and into the restaurant. I waved to PD, trying to get her attention. But she didn't seem to notice. She continued with the girls down to a vehicle, maybe a van.
I told everybody at the table (I was still standing), "That was PD! I tried to get her attention!" I wondered whether PD and the other girls were all lesbians. For some reason their hairstyles seemed lesbian to me. PD was now among the people at the table. The people at the table were all conversing casually.
I walked away, reading my BlackBerry. I was now in a room, which was still in the restaurant. The room was about twelve feet by twelve feet, with gentle, yellowish, natural light coming into the room. But the room felt run-down, like the paint on the walls was chipping and the wood floors were unpolished. Three chairs of tall, old wood stood side by side.
Behind the chairs stood a young, Japanese man. The man held a cloth bag and a black, cardboard box like a shoebox. The box had dimmish, silver-grey writing on it. The bag had a Takashi Murakami flower and logo on it. I realized, from the bag, that I knew the man.
As the man and I conversed laughingly about how we knew each other (by speaking about how we knew Murakami), either R or R and L walked into the room. I thought, If R knows I'm friends with this man, he'll try to destroy the friendship. I walked out of the room.
I was back in the main area of the restaurant. I sat down at a booth seat in a half-booth table, behind which was dimness and a bar up at the top of a roughly seven-foot-tall tier.
A woman sat next to me. She was pretty, maybe ten years older than I, with long, blonde hair and a red dress. We spoke for a while and then were home at the woman's apartment. We were in bed. I was on top of her, moving against her. The woman looked like Cindy Crawford: thin, with dark-tanned skin and brown-blonde hair. She wore black panties and a black bra. As I rubbed against the woman, she opened her mouth in a wide "O" of pleasure.
I was now walking out of a large apartment complex with my old co-worker BK. It was probably early morning, the clear sky a dim silver-blue. BK and I walked under some scaffolding near some tall buildings.
BK told me, "When I was first looking for jobs, I used DO" (an old boss of mine) "as a reference. But I then realized that was a mistake. DO always gives the most restrained, least positive opinion about anybody he has to give a reference for."
BK may then have asked whether I used DO as a reference. I felt bad for telling BK yes. So I went into some long speech about how at first DO had promised me he would give me a good reference.
We were now walking through a wide, vacant lot of asphalt which was worn and cracked, with patches of grass growing through in places. We crossed a street, probably to a large, clean parking lot at the end of which was a clean, tan and pink shopping mall lit in watery, white light. We then crossed the street, back to the asphalt lot. Across the lot was a tall, wide apartment complex atop a tall, torn-looking hill. BK And I walked down the vacant lot, to another set of buildings and scaffolding.
BK started jumping around with excitement, all fluttery, like a girl. He started talking about how excited he was about some party he was throwing. He asked me if I was coming. I may have wondered whether BK was gay. I then began whether I had had sex with the blonde woman or with BK.
Dream #2
It was black night. I walked (counter-clockwise?) around a square of dwellings like very small rooms separated from one another by thin walls. The rooms had ceilings like thatch or wicker. This square of dwellings was in the center of a lawny field.
The rooms were all dimly lit, some with fires, some, probably, with electric light. The rooms were all filled with colorful objects, mainly swatches of fabric for clothing. The rooms were all for college aged people. I didn't see a lot of people (maybe none, at first), although there was an atmosphere of people being around, a feeling of liveliness.
I started looking into each of the room-units. I occasionally saw women's clothes lying on the beds. I took looks through all the clothing, seeing what I might like to come back to and try on. I now came to a room, brighter than the others, lit by electric light, with a few people all lounging around, mostly on the bed. The people may have been members of my college comedy performance group, although I think they may all have been women.
The people told me they knew I'd been looking through all the women's clothing. They told me I'd be welcome to try on anything I liked. I may have spoken with them a little, partly trying to justify my habit, about how I chose the clothing I would try on. I may have seen myself trying on a classical pair of thick, satin panties by the light of a fire.
Dream #1
I walked down a sidewalk of brownstone buildings in the daytime. I was going to meet my old friend R and his wife L. I saw them sitting on a staircase in front of a brownstone. I may have been looking at my BlackBerry as I walked up to R and L. I put my BlackBerry down and then looked up at R and L.
We were now in a large restaurant, somewhat fancy, with tall walls. The walls and fixtures were all made of wood and brass. Natural daylight probably came in through windows. We walked up to a table that had booth seats on one side and chairs on the other, with the booth seats' back serving as booth seats' backs on the other side as well.
I may have been standing there by myself, looking at my BlackBerry. I walked over to a much larger booth table, where a lot of people were sitting. These people were all my friends. R and L may have been among them. Behind the people were two tall windows, letting in a dim view of a tallish, brick row building and a deep, clear, blue sky.
I watched a group of women walk out of the row building. The women were all young adults, with short, pale blonde hair and bronzed skin. They wore tight, sleeveless or tank-top shirts and carried boxes or plastic crates with them, as if they were moving out.
Among the women was my old friend PD, who looked odd with short, pale blonde hair. PD seemed to be looking in through the window and into the restaurant. I waved to PD, trying to get her attention. But she didn't seem to notice. She continued with the girls down to a vehicle, maybe a van.
I told everybody at the table (I was still standing), "That was PD! I tried to get her attention!" I wondered whether PD and the other girls were all lesbians. For some reason their hairstyles seemed lesbian to me. PD was now among the people at the table. The people at the table were all conversing casually.
I walked away, reading my BlackBerry. I was now in a room, which was still in the restaurant. The room was about twelve feet by twelve feet, with gentle, yellowish, natural light coming into the room. But the room felt run-down, like the paint on the walls was chipping and the wood floors were unpolished. Three chairs of tall, old wood stood side by side.
Behind the chairs stood a young, Japanese man. The man held a cloth bag and a black, cardboard box like a shoebox. The box had dimmish, silver-grey writing on it. The bag had a Takashi Murakami flower and logo on it. I realized, from the bag, that I knew the man.
As the man and I conversed laughingly about how we knew each other (by speaking about how we knew Murakami), either R or R and L walked into the room. I thought, If R knows I'm friends with this man, he'll try to destroy the friendship. I walked out of the room.
I was back in the main area of the restaurant. I sat down at a booth seat in a half-booth table, behind which was dimness and a bar up at the top of a roughly seven-foot-tall tier.
A woman sat next to me. She was pretty, maybe ten years older than I, with long, blonde hair and a red dress. We spoke for a while and then were home at the woman's apartment. We were in bed. I was on top of her, moving against her. The woman looked like Cindy Crawford: thin, with dark-tanned skin and brown-blonde hair. She wore black panties and a black bra. As I rubbed against the woman, she opened her mouth in a wide "O" of pleasure.
I was now walking out of a large apartment complex with my old co-worker BK. It was probably early morning, the clear sky a dim silver-blue. BK and I walked under some scaffolding near some tall buildings.
BK told me, "When I was first looking for jobs, I used DO" (an old boss of mine) "as a reference. But I then realized that was a mistake. DO always gives the most restrained, least positive opinion about anybody he has to give a reference for."
BK may then have asked whether I used DO as a reference. I felt bad for telling BK yes. So I went into some long speech about how at first DO had promised me he would give me a good reference.
We were now walking through a wide, vacant lot of asphalt which was worn and cracked, with patches of grass growing through in places. We crossed a street, probably to a large, clean parking lot at the end of which was a clean, tan and pink shopping mall lit in watery, white light. We then crossed the street, back to the asphalt lot. Across the lot was a tall, wide apartment complex atop a tall, torn-looking hill. BK And I walked down the vacant lot, to another set of buildings and scaffolding.
BK started jumping around with excitement, all fluttery, like a girl. He started talking about how excited he was about some party he was throwing. He asked me if I was coming. I may have wondered whether BK was gay. I then began whether I had had sex with the blonde woman or with BK.
Dream #2
It was black night. I walked (counter-clockwise?) around a square of dwellings like very small rooms separated from one another by thin walls. The rooms had ceilings like thatch or wicker. This square of dwellings was in the center of a lawny field.
The rooms were all dimly lit, some with fires, some, probably, with electric light. The rooms were all filled with colorful objects, mainly swatches of fabric for clothing. The rooms were all for college aged people. I didn't see a lot of people (maybe none, at first), although there was an atmosphere of people being around, a feeling of liveliness.
I started looking into each of the room-units. I occasionally saw women's clothes lying on the beds. I took looks through all the clothing, seeing what I might like to come back to and try on. I now came to a room, brighter than the others, lit by electric light, with a few people all lounging around, mostly on the bed. The people may have been members of my college comedy performance group, although I think they may all have been women.
The people told me they knew I'd been looking through all the women's clothing. They told me I'd be welcome to try on anything I liked. I may have spoken with them a little, partly trying to justify my habit, about how I chose the clothing I would try on. I may have seen myself trying on a classical pair of thick, satin panties by the light of a fire.
Monday, November 12, 2012
(10/23/09) need to buy diapers; which lesbian can i impregnate?
(Entered in dream journal at 8:19 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was outside at night, walking past the sides of buildings like small businesses or bodegas.
I thought of a baby I had left at home. I thought that the baby, which I had possibly left sleeping in a crib (or on top of a diaper-changing table) in a small closet, might have gone to the bathroom in the same diaper a number of times over the long period of time that I had been gone. I thought I'd need to change the baby's diaper when I got home. That thought was unpleasant, considering how messy I assumed the baby would be. I also thought that I'd need to get some diapers.
I may have stopped into a shop to get diapers. The shop was dimly lit with fluorescent light and felt painted and furnished with a lot of dull, sea-green-like color. It looked like a mechanic's shop.
Dream #2
I was in a bedroom with two women who were lovers. One of the women may have stood before a closet. The other woman stood on the other side of the bedroom. I was in between them, near the foot of the bed.
The woman facing the closet was acting shy. The other woman said, "Don't be afraid to ask him." She then said to me, "She wants you to make her pregnant."
I felt like there was a baby somewhere. I may have seen an image like a slide with blood on it, possibly with a tiny, wrench-shaped piece of metal above it.
I now lay near the head of the bed, across the bed so my head was at the right side and my feet at the left, pointed toward the closet. I faced the foot of the bed.
The not-shy woman lay across the bed in the opposite direction, also facing the foot of the bed. The woman had a short, square haircut. The woman was probably naked. I noticed the round, tight shape of her buttocks. I thought to myself, I'd rather be with you than with that other girl.
Dream #1
I was outside at night, walking past the sides of buildings like small businesses or bodegas.
I thought of a baby I had left at home. I thought that the baby, which I had possibly left sleeping in a crib (or on top of a diaper-changing table) in a small closet, might have gone to the bathroom in the same diaper a number of times over the long period of time that I had been gone. I thought I'd need to change the baby's diaper when I got home. That thought was unpleasant, considering how messy I assumed the baby would be. I also thought that I'd need to get some diapers.
I may have stopped into a shop to get diapers. The shop was dimly lit with fluorescent light and felt painted and furnished with a lot of dull, sea-green-like color. It looked like a mechanic's shop.
Dream #2
I was in a bedroom with two women who were lovers. One of the women may have stood before a closet. The other woman stood on the other side of the bedroom. I was in between them, near the foot of the bed.
The woman facing the closet was acting shy. The other woman said, "Don't be afraid to ask him." She then said to me, "She wants you to make her pregnant."
I felt like there was a baby somewhere. I may have seen an image like a slide with blood on it, possibly with a tiny, wrench-shaped piece of metal above it.
I now lay near the head of the bed, across the bed so my head was at the right side and my feet at the left, pointed toward the closet. I faced the foot of the bed.
The not-shy woman lay across the bed in the opposite direction, also facing the foot of the bed. The woman had a short, square haircut. The woman was probably naked. I noticed the round, tight shape of her buttocks. I thought to myself, I'd rather be with you than with that other girl.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
(1/29/10) one of the lesbians
(Entered in paper journal at 5:01 PM on Q-train heading back to Brooklyn from work.)
Dream #1
A movie, probably Just One of the Guys. A scene of two girls and at least one other person, maybe a guy, in a smallish bedroom. The room was bright, with natural light against pale walls. The two girls were the main character and her best friend. The scene was the scene in which the main girl decided to dress up as a guy.
Something was implied in the scene, either hints being dropped in conversation or else a kind of physical tension between the two girls, that made me think the girls were actually in love with each other, and that the main girl secretly didn't mind becoming a guy because that meant she would be able to be with her friend sexually without anybody asking questions.
I wondered about this relationship. I felt like there had been some scene efore this one where the girls were flirting with each other and where they'd almost admitted their attraction to each other, but were interrupted right at the crucial moment.
I now saw the previous scene. It was in the same bedroom. The girls were alone in the room. The main girl had just gotten out of the shower. She had a white cloth, either a towel or a terry-cloth robe, wrapped very loosely around her. Her friend sat on the bed. She looked admiringly at the main character.
Somehow the main character's breasts became exposed. At this moment, both girls suddenly felt a deep attraction toward each other. They didn't say anything to each other; they just began romping around "for fun" on the bed.
They ended up so that the friend lay on her back under the main girl, who also lay on her back, laying across the friend's torso.The main girl was almost naked, the cloth barely wrapping around her hips. The friend began fondling the nipple of the main girl's left breast with the index and middle finger of her left hand.
The friend said something like, "I like your body a lot." She may have said, "I like your breasts a lot."
The friend may now have started fondling other parts of the main girl's body, including her bellybutton. The two girls were very quiet and yet passionate. They were about to kiss, when the other friends interrupted the situation. I knew that this was the beginning to the scene I had originally been watching.
Dream #1
A movie, probably Just One of the Guys. A scene of two girls and at least one other person, maybe a guy, in a smallish bedroom. The room was bright, with natural light against pale walls. The two girls were the main character and her best friend. The scene was the scene in which the main girl decided to dress up as a guy.
Something was implied in the scene, either hints being dropped in conversation or else a kind of physical tension between the two girls, that made me think the girls were actually in love with each other, and that the main girl secretly didn't mind becoming a guy because that meant she would be able to be with her friend sexually without anybody asking questions.
I wondered about this relationship. I felt like there had been some scene efore this one where the girls were flirting with each other and where they'd almost admitted their attraction to each other, but were interrupted right at the crucial moment.
I now saw the previous scene. It was in the same bedroom. The girls were alone in the room. The main girl had just gotten out of the shower. She had a white cloth, either a towel or a terry-cloth robe, wrapped very loosely around her. Her friend sat on the bed. She looked admiringly at the main character.
Somehow the main character's breasts became exposed. At this moment, both girls suddenly felt a deep attraction toward each other. They didn't say anything to each other; they just began romping around "for fun" on the bed.
They ended up so that the friend lay on her back under the main girl, who also lay on her back, laying across the friend's torso.The main girl was almost naked, the cloth barely wrapping around her hips. The friend began fondling the nipple of the main girl's left breast with the index and middle finger of her left hand.
The friend said something like, "I like your body a lot." She may have said, "I like your breasts a lot."
The friend may now have started fondling other parts of the main girl's body, including her bellybutton. The two girls were very quiet and yet passionate. They were about to kiss, when the other friends interrupted the situation. I knew that this was the beginning to the scene I had originally been watching.
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