(4/27/08) elevator mission; spy-play

(Entered in paper journal at 7:55 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn into Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I was in an office building. The building's interior was dim, with dark walls. It was night or early morning. I had been with a group of people, probably older, wealthier people.

I got into an elevator. The floors were chosen by pressing numbers into a keypad. I must not have pressed anything when I first went in. The elevator car plunged downward. I knew I was quickly descending through underground levels. I didn't want to go too far down. I didn't want people to think I was sneaking around down here. But I also didn't know if the actual speed of the descent might kill me.

I typed "18" into the keypad. The elevator car ascended at first. But then the walls became like windows. The elevator car floated over a large body of water. The sky was a dim, pastel blue, like at dawn.

The elevator car lost speed and height. I soon fell into the water. I tread water. It was daytime, bright, with a cloudless sky. The water was murky green.

A woman tread water with me. We looked around, as if we were here on some kind of spy mission. On either side of us, possible four hundred meters away on either side, were rolling, pale, tan, deserty hills dotted with tall shrubs like junipers and pinons. Along the hills, but fixed in the water, were enormous construction cranes.

We were trying to swim to a certain part of the shore. I hoped we could avoid being directly under the cranes. Each crane held a gigantic sack of something like gravel and bricks. It looked like the cranes could drop the sacks at any time.

We were now on a shoe, walking up to a shallow cave or a tall cavity in the side of a hille. There was a woman working on an oldish looking, heavy piece of equipment.

We had to get information from her without letting on that we were spies. I looked around the area. It looked like it had been made in the hillside by the people who were carrying out all the construction on the landscape. There were steel beams against the wall. It was like the beams were propping up the walls and ceiling. There were heaps of asphalt and rubble all over.

The machinery woman was pretty but tough-looking. She was saying stuff to show off and try to attract the woman with me. The woman with me did actually seem to be attracted to the machinery woman.

The machinery woman now had us carry out a task. Whereas the cavity had just been fully open to the air, there was now a big, wooden door or gate in front of at least half of it, on our left as we faced the cavity front. We had to pull a hose through a hole at the bottom of this wooden door.

As we were drawing the hose into the cavity, I worried that I was doing a bad job and that the machinery woman would point out my inability as a reason why the woman with me shouldn't be attracted to me. But, I thought, I've done stuff like this before. I should be doing a good job.

There was a little resistance on the hose every now and then, but I seemed to work through it, which made me feel good about myself. But then the hose got really resistant. Instead of pulling hoses, the woman and I ended up pulling in two blue, wax cylinders, maybe eight inches in diameter and twelve feet long.

I stood the cylinders up before the machinery woman. The cylinders seemed to have stuff like Styrofoam cups in them. The machinery woman said something about how she liked the cylinders because they were phallic. The machinery woman said that liked to think that I was giving her my phallus, i.e. that I was having sex with her.

I was relieved by this statement. I had thought the machinery woman was a lesbian. I was jealous of the machinery woman, and afraid that she'd try to make the woman with me like her instead of me. But now it appeared that the machinery woman was actually attracted to me!

Dream #2

I stood with a woman like my sister outside a door to a plain, cheapish apartment. My sister and I had been spying on people. We had been into one other person's house just before. It had been a real challenge to get the needed information from the person, who had been quite hostile toward us. I was ready for this place to be just as much of a challenge. But my sister knocked on the door and told me she'd take care of this mission.

The door opened. The man who opened the door was my brother (though he might have looked like Osamu Tezuka's Black Jack character). Without saying anything my brother let my sister enter the house, as if she owned the place. My brother closed the door on me, as if he hadn't even seen me.

I stayed patient, realizing that I, too, would be able to enter easily. I drank a red, sticky, sweet fluid out of a long, thin, clear glass. It was just one swallow, like the dregs in a glass.

My brother opened the door, looked at me, and closed the door softly again. He then re-opened the door without appearing in the doorway.

I walked in. The apartment was empty. There were white walls and whitish carpet. Daylight came into the apartment, but it was dim and kind of sour. The front room was adjoined by a breakfast bar to the kitchen. Back from the front room was the living room. The only piece of furniture in it was a television. My brother stood to my left, just out of my sight, but very close to me.

I asked my brother questions, but very soon he understood that I was trying to get hidden information from him. He stopped talking and sat in front of the television.

My brother was a child now, around twelve years old. The TV was blaring. My brother was playing with neon green toys like the old, two-inch-tall M.U.S.C.L.E. wrestling figures and with some grey, plastic fighter jets. Some of the men were arranged randomly. Others were arranged in a straight line ending in a triangle shape.

Some of the men also stood on the wings of the jets and around the jets.

(4/27/09) brain surgery patients

(Entered in paper journal at 7:45 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I wandered through a series of hallways, possibly in an office building or hospital. I finally came to a room like a large operating room. There were maybe ten beds in the room.

On each bed lay a naked man. Each man was white, bald, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, of medium build, with his body sagging slightly, as if each man had just begun to get out of shape. The men differed slightly in the degree of physical conditioning, as well as in some other things, such as height and penis size.

The men all had small markings, in ink that looked like tattoo ink, on their skulls and possibly on their shoulders and arms. The small markings were all shapes like right angles and "T" shapes. I knew these men were all here for brain surgery, possibly as a treatment of insanity. I was also scheduled to undergo brain surgery.

(11/10/09) horses for boss; long-distance string-along

(Entered in paper journal at 7:42 AM at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I stood in front of my old boss BA, who sat on something like a wooden storage box standing against the pale blue (?) wall of a building. We were in a vacant space, either like a parking lot or a somewhat empty natural area that used to be a woodland. It was probably late afternoon, and the light was a dim, pale blue.

BA asked me to carry him, so I did. We walked through a somewhat muddy area, up to what looked like a house or a double-wide trailer. Inside, the place looked unfinished. The floors were concrete, possibly sloped, not level. The place had ramps, corridors, like some kind of a slaughterhouse. It was all empty, like nothing was going on there. But it might have been messy, like mud and other stuff had been strewn along the place, and there might have been a feeling of warmth and noise from somewhere.

I came to a woman at a tall desk. The desk looked a little like a thin, metal filing cabinet. A bright, incandescent light came from the desk. The woman was fattish, with short, frizzy, dark blonde hair and wrinkled, turtle-like skin.

We may have spoken back and forth about horses, as if I had come here to get a horse. She might have told me something like she didn't have any horses to give. She might have also told me the reason.

I walked out a wide exit at the back (?) of the place. The light was now dark blue. I was in something like a corral for horses. I may have seen a few horses. Thinking to myself, Well, I have a few horses now, after all, I might have walked away, first into a foresty area, then into a vacant, muddy, somewhat rolling area (maybe also stubbled with tree stumps), possibly going back to the place I had come from.

I suddenly realized that I no longer had BA with me. In my worrying about getting a horse, possibly for BA, I had forgotten BA somewhere.

Dream #2

I stood out on a street. It was a bright, sunny day, also hot. I stood at the top of a hill, looking down the street, which may have looked partly like a suburban street and partly like a mountain town street lined with shops. There may have been a few people around me, people I knew somehow. The street may have troughed and then risen back upward for another, less steep, shorter hill.

At the trough of the hill, on the left side of the street, may have been a modern-looking building about twelve or so stories tall, with dim, reflective glass walls. Before the doors of that building flowed a cluttery pile of bright objects, possibly toys, possibly baby toys.

Somewhere, possibly down by the building, or "from" the inside of the building, or somewhere near the top of the other hill, stood CR, the man with whom I had had a job interview. CR was "speaking with me," even thought he was at least three hundred meters away from me, and possibly even inside a building. He asked me about the options I had, in case I didn't get the job. I really didn't have options, and I was really in need of a job. But I tried to sound cheerful.

Watching the sun glint of the items in front of the building, as if some of the toys were metallic, I told CR that I really would like to go somewhere where I could just sit down and study the things I wanted to study, without having to worry about my livelihood.

CR said, "Oh, so you're planning on going back to school, then?"

I said I guessed I was. But I thought, I don't have time, now, to get myself into a school. I need to get a job!