(
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.
