(Entered in paper journal at 8:10 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was outside a large apartment complex. I had been sent out to get something for my mother. I was now trying to get back to the apartment as soon as possible. I ran to a glass door (like a hall-end entrance door at a hotel) and hit a buzzer button, probably buzzing my mom's apartment. My mom buzzed the door open.
I knew the room I was looking for was number 430. But I was in a hallway with rooms numbered in the 200s. The rooms all had their numbers engraved on large, oval, gold or brass plaques on the doors. I ran down this hallway to get to the hallway numbered in the 400s. I ran through the 300s hallway.
I thought I'd wasted time by coming in through the 200s hallway. I also wondered why my mother had let me into the 200s hallway instead of telling me to go to the correct hallway.
I now ran into a large atrium or lobby-like area. A few different hallways converged here. There were some little garden- or fountain-triangles set into raised brick-structures. The ceiling was glass, and gentle daylight flowed through. Some apartments stood within this area. I could see room 430 just beyond and between two garden triangles.
I saw my co-worker BT walk away from the apartment, as if he'd possibly just left the room. I didn't say anything to him -- I was too hurried. I approached the door.
Dream #2
I stood on a two-sided subway platform. I may have had a lot of baggage with me. A train pulled in on the other side of the platform. I suddenly realized this was the train I was supposed to catch. I ran across to catch the train. But I realized I had left all my baggage on the other side.
I was trapped in the train door, half turned out of it. The train doors opened. I ran to where my baggage had been. It wasn't there. I thought of it. It was now like another train had come on this side, and like my baggage had somehow gotten on that train.
I thought, Now I have nothing. There's no way I'll get all that stuff back. People have probably stolen it by now. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I now had nothing. I looked at my BlackBerry to try and figure something out.
A group of subway workers, black men and women, were joking about me, how stupid and lost I looked now that I had nothing, and how stupid I was for thinking that I'd get anything back. But they might also have been saying that if I looked serious or honest or skillful enough, they might help me. They may even have had my baggage, so that they would give me a piece back as I successively (not successfully) proved my identity.
I looked in my book bag to see if there was some way I could either get started back up in life without all my missing baggage or else prove my identity to the subway workers.
But now I thought, Wait -- I have my BlackBerry. I have my book bag. I have access to my money. I hae my identification. Everything else is just extra stuff I don't need. Why was I thinking I had nothing?
Dream #3
I was in an office space. I walked into an office, behind which my old co-worker IA stood. His desk was cluttered. Before the desk stood a woman who looked like my old boss JT, except that she looked thinner and had blonde streaks in her hair. IA was trying to impress JT professionally (he would have had no need to do so in waking life, JT being a supervisor over people other than IA) by showing her how organized he was.
I had come in to get a set of books like a mix between the FINRA Series 86 course material and some kind of large numbers-book like a book full of market data. I had done this, partly, to help IA n a project in a very important way. When IA handed me the book he was quick and curt, but also polite.
I walked out of the office, back into the larger office space, which was like a bunch of tall filing cabinets and short, wide work spaces that could be used for things like stapling documents together.
As soon as I left the office, I could hear IA talking bad about me to JT. IA said something like, "See the silly kinds of demands he makes? What kind of a person needs a book?"
I now realized either that I was finished with this book already or else that this wasn't the correct book. I knew I'd have to take the book back to IA right away so I could start getting the work done as soon as possible. But I was also afraid to go back into the office. I didn't want to give IA another reason to talk bad about me behind my back.
Showing posts with label short on time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short on time. Show all posts
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
(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!
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!
(12/29/09) halted flight; wetting my diaper a lot
(Entered in paper journal at 6:30 AM on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was walking down a suburban sidewalk to the right of which ran a busy road. There were a good amount of people on the sidewalk. It was late afternoon, and the sky was a dim, pale pink and blue. I had to get somewhere, possibly to see President Obama, and I was thinking of walking, as the place was nearby. I turned left and walked down a much quieter road.
I wondered if I shouldn't just XXXXX (can't remember) after all, to get there much quicker. Walking wouldn't be difficult. But it was getting dark fast, and I didn't want to be out walking through these empty suburban streets in the dark.
I suddenly either realized that I could fly or I started flying. I lifted up into the air. The sky was changing to a pale, dim, silver-blue color. I floated up before trees with canopies that were low and thick and colored pale yellow-orange and tan, possibly with the fringes of the leafs being darker orange and red. I lifted up over the trees and started moving forward. I thought, For sure I can get to the event on time now.
But I suddenly lost control of my flight. I bounded backwards in the air, like I was being pulled upward and backward by a flexible arm or a bungee cord. I tried to control myself and move forward. I would succeed, only to bound upward and backward again.
The landscape below me changed. It looked like a suburban neighborhood which had been fashioned into a putt-putt golf course. I thought to myself, I'll never get anywhere if I just keep bouncing around like this. With real determination I told myself to move forward, and quickly. Suddenly the restraint broke.
I heard a man's voice, maybe the voice of my old friend R, from behind me and to my right, say, "Fine, then, if you want to be such a baby about it."
I was moving forward, but slowly descending back to the "street," which simply looked like an indoor putt-putt golf course. I sat on a ledge near a window, trying on something like sports shoes or ice skates while R sat to my right.
R had said something that really upset me. I walked away from him and headed up something like a zigzag wheelchair ramp of grey-painted concrete, through a little stage-like area, and up a fire-escape-like stairwell. I went up a few floors.
This building was an amusement center. I hoped I could get onto a floor that R wouldn't visit, so he would leave me alone. I got up to a somewhat empty looking, large room with concrete floors, cinder block walls, and coldish, incandescent lighting.
My girlfriend H was here. I thought we two could hang out. But I looked to my right, through a doorway to another room that seemed like a balcony over a high school or college gym. I saw R there, walking behind a moderate crowd of people. I didn't want R to see me and H together. I thought he would try to break us apart.
(At this point I got off the train to go to work. I resumed my paper journal entry at 8:05 PM, back on the B-train, heading back to Brooklyn after work.)
Dream #2
I was in "my bed" at "my house." I lay on my back with my knees up, looking down at myself while I wet my diaper. Suddenly I realized I was wetting too much, and that my diaper was starting to overflow. I stood up, still wetting and wetting.
I ran through the hallway, my diaper leaking all over the place. I got to the bathroom. I was still wetting and wetting. I stood either on the bathroom floor or in the bathtub. I tried to take off my diaper. The urine was like a huge puddle, and fountains of urine poured down all around my legs.
Dream #1
I was walking down a suburban sidewalk to the right of which ran a busy road. There were a good amount of people on the sidewalk. It was late afternoon, and the sky was a dim, pale pink and blue. I had to get somewhere, possibly to see President Obama, and I was thinking of walking, as the place was nearby. I turned left and walked down a much quieter road.
I wondered if I shouldn't just XXXXX (can't remember) after all, to get there much quicker. Walking wouldn't be difficult. But it was getting dark fast, and I didn't want to be out walking through these empty suburban streets in the dark.
I suddenly either realized that I could fly or I started flying. I lifted up into the air. The sky was changing to a pale, dim, silver-blue color. I floated up before trees with canopies that were low and thick and colored pale yellow-orange and tan, possibly with the fringes of the leafs being darker orange and red. I lifted up over the trees and started moving forward. I thought, For sure I can get to the event on time now.
But I suddenly lost control of my flight. I bounded backwards in the air, like I was being pulled upward and backward by a flexible arm or a bungee cord. I tried to control myself and move forward. I would succeed, only to bound upward and backward again.
The landscape below me changed. It looked like a suburban neighborhood which had been fashioned into a putt-putt golf course. I thought to myself, I'll never get anywhere if I just keep bouncing around like this. With real determination I told myself to move forward, and quickly. Suddenly the restraint broke.
I heard a man's voice, maybe the voice of my old friend R, from behind me and to my right, say, "Fine, then, if you want to be such a baby about it."
I was moving forward, but slowly descending back to the "street," which simply looked like an indoor putt-putt golf course. I sat on a ledge near a window, trying on something like sports shoes or ice skates while R sat to my right.
R had said something that really upset me. I walked away from him and headed up something like a zigzag wheelchair ramp of grey-painted concrete, through a little stage-like area, and up a fire-escape-like stairwell. I went up a few floors.
This building was an amusement center. I hoped I could get onto a floor that R wouldn't visit, so he would leave me alone. I got up to a somewhat empty looking, large room with concrete floors, cinder block walls, and coldish, incandescent lighting.
My girlfriend H was here. I thought we two could hang out. But I looked to my right, through a doorway to another room that seemed like a balcony over a high school or college gym. I saw R there, walking behind a moderate crowd of people. I didn't want R to see me and H together. I thought he would try to break us apart.
(At this point I got off the train to go to work. I resumed my paper journal entry at 8:05 PM, back on the B-train, heading back to Brooklyn after work.)
Dream #2
I was in "my bed" at "my house." I lay on my back with my knees up, looking down at myself while I wet my diaper. Suddenly I realized I was wetting too much, and that my diaper was starting to overflow. I stood up, still wetting and wetting.
I ran through the hallway, my diaper leaking all over the place. I got to the bathroom. I was still wetting and wetting. I stood either on the bathroom floor or in the bathtub. I tried to take off my diaper. The urine was like a huge puddle, and fountains of urine poured down all around my legs.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
(1/8/10) jumping in the hay: a novel
(Entered in paper journal at 6:30 AM on B-train into work from Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was walking down a street in a city which was probably supposed to be New York. The streets were clean and calm, though there were a moderate amount of people walking along them. The whole area had a small town feel. It was afternoon, and the sky was a placid silver-blue.
I had been walking from a place far uptown -- possibly 125th Street -- and possibly even across a bridge. I was now down on what was supposed to have been 86th Street. I was looking for a place to have coffee. I was going to have coffee and write or read for a little while, then head back uptown. It was like I had gotten some kind of break time from a large training event or conference.
I found a coffee shop in a building hat looked very small-town like. I walked inside. There was a lot of space. The floors and tables were of pale wood. The tables were as wide as dining tables. The place had two areas. The "back" area, to my left, was set slightly lower than the "front" area.
I thought I would sit in the cafe and read for a while. But for some reason I felt pressed for time. I worried either that I would have to get out of here before sunset or that I would have to get out of here in time to get back to the event uptown. I thought to myself that it would be much smarter for me, in the future, to walk down somewhere, have coffee there, and then walk back uptown (as if that were different from what I had just done!). That way I could avoid getting out of here after sunset.
The place was empty except for two old, heavyish ladies with square, grey haircuts. The ladies sat across from each other at a table near a divider-screen which set apart the back area from the front area. The ladies wore slightly oversized t-shirts, probably blue and red, and pale jeans. They spoke like two grandmothers, with a deadpan, but patient and cheerful tone of voice.
I had to squeeze past the two ladies to get into the back area, where I thought I'd sit because it had so much space. I may have seen two more people enter the shop: a man and woman about my age. This may have made me a little anxious.
I wanted to buy some coffee or tea, but I hadn't seen a cashier yet. I saw a stairway that went down to a basement. It was narrow, with clean walls and pale wood steps. It looked newly built. I knew the cashier was actually in the basement.
I went down into the basement. It was huge, like three or four living rooms put together. The place itself seemed to be set up like three or four different living rooms. The whole place was cast in a bluish light, which I think came from the ground-level windows, high up on the walls. The floor was covered in thick, white shag carpet or rugs of the same material. There were couches everywhere. There were square pillars of dark wood near the center of the room. There were other household items, like bicycles, etc., scattered about.
Bookshelves lined most of the walls. All the books on the shelves looked like popular novels. What mostly caught my attention as I gazed at the bookshelves from the center of the room were books whose spines looked like those of the old V.C. Andrews books.
I saw the cash register, but nobody was there. I knew the cashier was in the restroom. I tried to be quiet, almost invisible as well. I was afraid that if I was too "forward" about my presence, I would cause the cashier to dislike me, which would, I feared, make my future visits here really stressful.
I pulled back my personality so much that I became like a ghost. I "walked," moving my legs, but not moving because I was moving my legs. I was actually moving by cruising forward while floating about an inch above the floor. I crept-floated around the corner of a pillar and possibly squeezed between the space between the back of a chair or couch and the pillar. I floated toward a bookshelf and reached out for a book.
The cashier walked out from the bathroom, which, I saw, was near a smallish, concrete-floored laundry room. The cashier was a tallish, skinny man with a slight, stubbly, black beard and glasses. He may have worn a wool cap.
The cashier, seeing me, at first seemed hesitant to interact. Then he said, "Beautiful night."
I said something in response, but my words were drowned out to me by my thoughts about what I should say. I knew the man had said what he'd said because he didn't want to go through the whole "how are you doing" or "how can I help you" kind of thing.
But I thought that since he'd said it was a beautiful night, I'd sound like I was an idiot if anything I said implied I would be staying inside reading. I thought I'd say something about the long walk I'd just taken to show that I hadn't wasted the beauty of the day by being inside.
I may have asked the man about a book to read. The man told me that I should read XXXXX (can't remember). I thought to myself, Who does that guy think he is, telling me what book to read? I won't read it!
I walked up to a bookshelf to the right (as I faced it) of the cash register. This bookshelf had previously been along the back wall, but now it was on the right wall. I looked up at one of the top shelves, to a row of Stephen King books with the "new style" white bindings with blocks of color across the bottom of the page, where the titles are. I focused on one book called something like Jumping in the Hay.
Dream #1
I was walking down a street in a city which was probably supposed to be New York. The streets were clean and calm, though there were a moderate amount of people walking along them. The whole area had a small town feel. It was afternoon, and the sky was a placid silver-blue.
I had been walking from a place far uptown -- possibly 125th Street -- and possibly even across a bridge. I was now down on what was supposed to have been 86th Street. I was looking for a place to have coffee. I was going to have coffee and write or read for a little while, then head back uptown. It was like I had gotten some kind of break time from a large training event or conference.
I found a coffee shop in a building hat looked very small-town like. I walked inside. There was a lot of space. The floors and tables were of pale wood. The tables were as wide as dining tables. The place had two areas. The "back" area, to my left, was set slightly lower than the "front" area.
I thought I would sit in the cafe and read for a while. But for some reason I felt pressed for time. I worried either that I would have to get out of here before sunset or that I would have to get out of here in time to get back to the event uptown. I thought to myself that it would be much smarter for me, in the future, to walk down somewhere, have coffee there, and then walk back uptown (as if that were different from what I had just done!). That way I could avoid getting out of here after sunset.
The place was empty except for two old, heavyish ladies with square, grey haircuts. The ladies sat across from each other at a table near a divider-screen which set apart the back area from the front area. The ladies wore slightly oversized t-shirts, probably blue and red, and pale jeans. They spoke like two grandmothers, with a deadpan, but patient and cheerful tone of voice.
I had to squeeze past the two ladies to get into the back area, where I thought I'd sit because it had so much space. I may have seen two more people enter the shop: a man and woman about my age. This may have made me a little anxious.
I wanted to buy some coffee or tea, but I hadn't seen a cashier yet. I saw a stairway that went down to a basement. It was narrow, with clean walls and pale wood steps. It looked newly built. I knew the cashier was actually in the basement.
I went down into the basement. It was huge, like three or four living rooms put together. The place itself seemed to be set up like three or four different living rooms. The whole place was cast in a bluish light, which I think came from the ground-level windows, high up on the walls. The floor was covered in thick, white shag carpet or rugs of the same material. There were couches everywhere. There were square pillars of dark wood near the center of the room. There were other household items, like bicycles, etc., scattered about.
Bookshelves lined most of the walls. All the books on the shelves looked like popular novels. What mostly caught my attention as I gazed at the bookshelves from the center of the room were books whose spines looked like those of the old V.C. Andrews books.
I saw the cash register, but nobody was there. I knew the cashier was in the restroom. I tried to be quiet, almost invisible as well. I was afraid that if I was too "forward" about my presence, I would cause the cashier to dislike me, which would, I feared, make my future visits here really stressful.
I pulled back my personality so much that I became like a ghost. I "walked," moving my legs, but not moving because I was moving my legs. I was actually moving by cruising forward while floating about an inch above the floor. I crept-floated around the corner of a pillar and possibly squeezed between the space between the back of a chair or couch and the pillar. I floated toward a bookshelf and reached out for a book.
The cashier walked out from the bathroom, which, I saw, was near a smallish, concrete-floored laundry room. The cashier was a tallish, skinny man with a slight, stubbly, black beard and glasses. He may have worn a wool cap.
The cashier, seeing me, at first seemed hesitant to interact. Then he said, "Beautiful night."
I said something in response, but my words were drowned out to me by my thoughts about what I should say. I knew the man had said what he'd said because he didn't want to go through the whole "how are you doing" or "how can I help you" kind of thing.
But I thought that since he'd said it was a beautiful night, I'd sound like I was an idiot if anything I said implied I would be staying inside reading. I thought I'd say something about the long walk I'd just taken to show that I hadn't wasted the beauty of the day by being inside.
I may have asked the man about a book to read. The man told me that I should read XXXXX (can't remember). I thought to myself, Who does that guy think he is, telling me what book to read? I won't read it!
I walked up to a bookshelf to the right (as I faced it) of the cash register. This bookshelf had previously been along the back wall, but now it was on the right wall. I looked up at one of the top shelves, to a row of Stephen King books with the "new style" white bindings with blocks of color across the bottom of the page, where the titles are. I focused on one book called something like Jumping in the Hay.
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