(Entered in paper journal at 9:10 AM at Starbucks at 1st Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
It was night. I was in an apartment building, at least ten floors up, I'd guess, with my sister (?) and "her husband." They were doing something suspicious. At first I couldn't tell what it was. Then I figured out that they were shooting heroin.
For some reason I had gotten the idea that my sister and "her husband" were having a hard time taking care of their kids. Now I only wanted to expose them so their kids could find safety.
My mom came to pick me up. My sister and I were out in the parking lot. At first I wasn't going to say anything. We were getting into my mom's vehicle (which looked more like my sister's SUV in waking life, except a little smaller). My sister got into the backseat. Something about her seemed a little bit like my friend R.
Now I felt like I absolutely had to tell my mom about my sister's and brother-in-law's heroin use. But as I was telling my mom I could feel that "R/my sister" was going to stab me in the back of the skull.
Showing posts with label sister's children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sister's children. Show all posts
Sunday, February 19, 2017
Sunday, January 6, 2013
(9/4/08) getting home from the met
(Entered in paper journal at 6:11 AM on B-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was out on an open field with my mom and sister and possibly my sister's children (though all the children may have been girls). I was looking down at a hole in the ground that looked like a stairwell made of sand. I may have been digging this hole out even more, and possibly with a big slab of slate that was large and smooth enough to be a headstone.
One of my family members, maybe my sister, asked, "What if we come to sleep with you here?"
I didn't think there was enough space for my family here. And I didn't think the sandy be would be flat enough for them. But now I dug the slate into the ground so it stood upright, like a headstone, in the bed of this stairwell. Suddenly the ground looked flat enough. Now the slate was gone.
I looked before me. The sandy wall was sculpted to look just like a stone wall, just like, I thought, a wall in an underground hallway of a pyramid.
I told my family, "Well, I could do something like this. Come down and see."
We were now in a place that looked like a cinder-walled basement of a house. Nobody seemed to be impressed. I myself wasn't exactly sure what this place was, but I tried to explain to my family (which was now more like a group of Mexican women and girls) that this was a replica of an Egyptian tomb. But I explained that even though it was a replica, there were actual authentic artifacts.
I tried to point out one (or two) of the authentic artifacts in a roundabout way. Between the back of a couch and a wall, two (?) white statues, about ten feet long, lay on their sides, on on top of the other. The statues were of a Pharaoh and his bride. The Pharaoh lay on top. A cloth blanket may have been covering their legs.
But I couldn't quite get anybody focused enough to pay attention to this view. Everybody ran around the space, which was now like a warm-colored version of the scholar's garden at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There weren't any big sculptures anywhere, possibly just framed paintings on the walls. But I still thought of this space as an exhibition of Egyptian artifacts.
I managed to get a small group of folks together to go into a small side room, which I thought would lead to the Egyptian tomb hallway. But the wall where I thought the entrance to the hallway would be was blocked off by a curtain of blue and white patterned material.
We headed back to the main room. Somewhere I saw the ten-foot-long sculptures again. I wasn't sure anymore that they were genuine.
Now it was like we were being too rowdy and we had to leave.
We were up in some gutted-out structure that resembled a Greek ruin mixed with something like a garage. The ground was very greasy. The ruin looked out over an open, maybe desert-like, area.
There was some blocked-off space like for a large sculpture at a corner of the ruin. We walked up to it. There was some big, rusty machine that looked like a construction or heavy-duty cooking machine, but which we called a fire truck.
A group of rough-looking, white men gathered around the machine. Some of the men may have been using flame throwers. Others were breathing fire. The whole thing smelled awful, like my stomach feels when I get indigestion. The explanation of it all was that these men were putting out a fire. But the fire wasn't exactly here.
We stood around for a while, wondering if the fire truck would ever be through, so it could give us a ride home. Eventually we figured that the firemen simply didn't want to give us a ride home.
We walked to an old, rusty, gutted-out vehicle like a bus at the other end of the ruin. The driver inside waved an instrument like a megaphone at us, gesturing that he didn't want us on his bus. Eventually the megaphone began spouting fire.
The other people in my group were now gone. It was night. I stood with the bus driver and a man who worked with him. This other man and I walked away from the small-building city street. The man was big, fattish, with glasses and shoulder-length hair. He wore jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and a jean vest. He was talking to me about comic books. At first I was interested. But then I started to feel uneasy, like maybe I shouldn't be hanging out with such a weird person.
Dream #1
I was out on an open field with my mom and sister and possibly my sister's children (though all the children may have been girls). I was looking down at a hole in the ground that looked like a stairwell made of sand. I may have been digging this hole out even more, and possibly with a big slab of slate that was large and smooth enough to be a headstone.
One of my family members, maybe my sister, asked, "What if we come to sleep with you here?"
I didn't think there was enough space for my family here. And I didn't think the sandy be would be flat enough for them. But now I dug the slate into the ground so it stood upright, like a headstone, in the bed of this stairwell. Suddenly the ground looked flat enough. Now the slate was gone.
I looked before me. The sandy wall was sculpted to look just like a stone wall, just like, I thought, a wall in an underground hallway of a pyramid.
I told my family, "Well, I could do something like this. Come down and see."
We were now in a place that looked like a cinder-walled basement of a house. Nobody seemed to be impressed. I myself wasn't exactly sure what this place was, but I tried to explain to my family (which was now more like a group of Mexican women and girls) that this was a replica of an Egyptian tomb. But I explained that even though it was a replica, there were actual authentic artifacts.
I tried to point out one (or two) of the authentic artifacts in a roundabout way. Between the back of a couch and a wall, two (?) white statues, about ten feet long, lay on their sides, on on top of the other. The statues were of a Pharaoh and his bride. The Pharaoh lay on top. A cloth blanket may have been covering their legs.
But I couldn't quite get anybody focused enough to pay attention to this view. Everybody ran around the space, which was now like a warm-colored version of the scholar's garden at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There weren't any big sculptures anywhere, possibly just framed paintings on the walls. But I still thought of this space as an exhibition of Egyptian artifacts.
I managed to get a small group of folks together to go into a small side room, which I thought would lead to the Egyptian tomb hallway. But the wall where I thought the entrance to the hallway would be was blocked off by a curtain of blue and white patterned material.
We headed back to the main room. Somewhere I saw the ten-foot-long sculptures again. I wasn't sure anymore that they were genuine.
Now it was like we were being too rowdy and we had to leave.
We were up in some gutted-out structure that resembled a Greek ruin mixed with something like a garage. The ground was very greasy. The ruin looked out over an open, maybe desert-like, area.
There was some blocked-off space like for a large sculpture at a corner of the ruin. We walked up to it. There was some big, rusty machine that looked like a construction or heavy-duty cooking machine, but which we called a fire truck.
A group of rough-looking, white men gathered around the machine. Some of the men may have been using flame throwers. Others were breathing fire. The whole thing smelled awful, like my stomach feels when I get indigestion. The explanation of it all was that these men were putting out a fire. But the fire wasn't exactly here.
We stood around for a while, wondering if the fire truck would ever be through, so it could give us a ride home. Eventually we figured that the firemen simply didn't want to give us a ride home.
We walked to an old, rusty, gutted-out vehicle like a bus at the other end of the ruin. The driver inside waved an instrument like a megaphone at us, gesturing that he didn't want us on his bus. Eventually the megaphone began spouting fire.
The other people in my group were now gone. It was night. I stood with the bus driver and a man who worked with him. This other man and I walked away from the small-building city street. The man was big, fattish, with glasses and shoulder-length hair. He wore jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and a jean vest. He was talking to me about comic books. At first I was interested. But then I started to feel uneasy, like maybe I shouldn't be hanging out with such a weird person.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
(3/22/09) the imminent alligators; off the payroll; the grand tour
(Entered in paper journal at 8:45 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood out in front of my great grandmother's front yard, which was all muddy. The mud curled up in huge waves toward the sidewalk and sloped down from the house to the feet of the waves. In this little hollow there might even have been water.
Out of the mud or water sprung two alligators. They were orange-red with black stripes and, possibly, white bellies. They looked a little distorted, like they were plastic and their faces were narrower than usual, possibly even bulbed somehow. The alligators climbed up onto a little bed of mud to the left of the yard. I knew this was a dangerous situation, and that I should either fight the alligators or call somebody to come take care of them.
Now two more alligators crawled out of the mud. These were much more like regular alligators: large, wide-bodied, blunt-nosed, but still orange-red with black stripes. These alligators looked so dangerous that I thought that if they even saw me they would kill me.
I went into the house to call the police. I sat somewhere near my great grandmother. She told me she'd suspected something dangerous was going to happen when the alligators had come into the house -- which had apparently happened a while ago. I was shocked to hear that the alligators had first been inside the house.
My great grandma told me she had gotten even more suspicious when she would find scratches on her bedroom door and broken patches on her walls. (I could see these things in my mind's eye.) I was even more shocked to hear that so much had gone on in my great grandma's house without my great grandma having called the police.
Dream #2
I was in a cafe that was also something like a cabin in the woods. The place was full of gentle, grey daylight. The door was near the bar (which was on the "back" wall, from my view) and on the right wall. But it was somewhat obscured by a little divider. There was a tall, white man behind the bar. He owned the cafe. I was talking with him as if I were working at the cafe.
Now either my old boss BS or one of my department heads, MR, burst into the cafe. The person said, "Now I've got you! You've been working here, haven't you?"
I thought that that was correct, that I'd been working here one or two days a week. BS/MR said, "You've been getting paid while you were still on our payroll But now I've caught you, and I'm taking you off the payroll!" (In waking life, I'd been laid off from my job; but, though I was no longer to come into the office, I was still kept on the payroll for a little while longer, as a part of my severance package. But the terms of my staying on the payroll were that if I took another job, I'd be taken off the severance package payroll.)
I tried to think of some way out of this situation, or some way to justify what I had done. But I couldn't. I thought, It sucks that I should get in trouble for working only one or two days a week. But those are the rules.
Dream #3
It was a sunny, warm, cloudless day. My brother-in-law was driving himself, my sister, and me to their new house. We rode in an old, wide-bodied car with a pale interior. My sister and I sat in the backseat. My sister and I sat facing each other and were relatively close to each other, as if we were hugging each other, or close enough to be hugging each other. I sat on the driver's side, and my sister sat on the passenger's side.
My brother-in-law and sister took turns speaking to me about how good their new place was. When my sister would talk, she'd say things as if she were also gesturing with her hands to illustrate. But her gestures were actually just reaching into my pants and grabbing me. The first time she did it, she pinched my penis a little, as if I barely had a penis, so that she had to pinch only a little.
I was too shocked by my sister's actions to do anything about it. I hoped she hadn't meant to do it. But then she did it again, this time fingering the underside of my testicles.I had a view of something like a frame of wire-hangers before my mind's eye.
I told my sister (trying not to say exactly what she was doing, so as not to let my brother-in-law know what was going on), "Uh... I think your gestures might need to be away from that place." My sister backed off quickly, as if it were quickly understood that I wasn't interested.
We now pulled up to the new place, which was something more like a multi-story townhouse than a regular single-family house. The front of the house, including the framing and trim, was all a pale coffee color, bordered on top, in my view, with a band of blue sky.
I was slightly disappointed in the place. I had been told that the place was a house, and that it was huge. But this looked like it would be more like a small apartment.
My brother-in-law asked, "Does it seem okay?"
I could tell that my brother-in-law and sister really wanted to impress me. I said, "Yeah, It's great."
My sister took me inside. The place, my sister and brother-in-law had told me, was two stories. But I only saw one story. The place was wide, with a few "main rooms" that were open to one another, providing a wide-open feel. The place was dim. The walls were thin, cheap plaster. The floors were all linoleum, like kitchen floors, and they were dirty.
My sister led me to the left. She showed me two decent-sized rooms that may have seemed run down and too dirty to live in. She showed me another room, which she expressly said was to be a bedroom. It was as small as a closet, and its floors were caked with a rusty, grainy grime. I thought of the grainy grime as rat droppings. I thought that that would really have to be cleaned before anybody could use this place as a bedroom.
My sister led me into a large room which was the master bedroom. She pointed just over and behind us, to a bathroom. It was long, with the toilet at one end and the shower far at the other end. I said, "This is a huge bathroom! Everybody will be happy with this!"
But then I realized the bathroom was attached to the master bedroom. This meant that the bathroom could only be used by the person who stayed in the master bedroom. This would probably be my mom. (The first two rooms I'd seen, or at least one of those rooms, may have been for my sister's children.) I was disappointed that only one person could use such a big bathroom.
My sister then took me into a room which would be the kitchen. It was lit by a wide window. We walked back into one of the "main area" rooms. We walked toward the right side of the room.
The "main area" room gave way to a slightly narrower room that also looked large enough to be a common room. Along the left wall were two bedrooms. Against the back wall was a small bed with a small window over it, high up on the wall. The bed had a small quilt on it.
My sister explained that during the day the room would be used as something like a living room, but that at night my mom would sleep here, to be near my sister's children's rooms. I thought, But weren't the children's rooms on the other side of the house?
Dream #1
I stood out in front of my great grandmother's front yard, which was all muddy. The mud curled up in huge waves toward the sidewalk and sloped down from the house to the feet of the waves. In this little hollow there might even have been water.
Out of the mud or water sprung two alligators. They were orange-red with black stripes and, possibly, white bellies. They looked a little distorted, like they were plastic and their faces were narrower than usual, possibly even bulbed somehow. The alligators climbed up onto a little bed of mud to the left of the yard. I knew this was a dangerous situation, and that I should either fight the alligators or call somebody to come take care of them.
Now two more alligators crawled out of the mud. These were much more like regular alligators: large, wide-bodied, blunt-nosed, but still orange-red with black stripes. These alligators looked so dangerous that I thought that if they even saw me they would kill me.
I went into the house to call the police. I sat somewhere near my great grandmother. She told me she'd suspected something dangerous was going to happen when the alligators had come into the house -- which had apparently happened a while ago. I was shocked to hear that the alligators had first been inside the house.
My great grandma told me she had gotten even more suspicious when she would find scratches on her bedroom door and broken patches on her walls. (I could see these things in my mind's eye.) I was even more shocked to hear that so much had gone on in my great grandma's house without my great grandma having called the police.
Dream #2
I was in a cafe that was also something like a cabin in the woods. The place was full of gentle, grey daylight. The door was near the bar (which was on the "back" wall, from my view) and on the right wall. But it was somewhat obscured by a little divider. There was a tall, white man behind the bar. He owned the cafe. I was talking with him as if I were working at the cafe.
Now either my old boss BS or one of my department heads, MR, burst into the cafe. The person said, "Now I've got you! You've been working here, haven't you?"
I thought that that was correct, that I'd been working here one or two days a week. BS/MR said, "You've been getting paid while you were still on our payroll But now I've caught you, and I'm taking you off the payroll!" (In waking life, I'd been laid off from my job; but, though I was no longer to come into the office, I was still kept on the payroll for a little while longer, as a part of my severance package. But the terms of my staying on the payroll were that if I took another job, I'd be taken off the severance package payroll.)
I tried to think of some way out of this situation, or some way to justify what I had done. But I couldn't. I thought, It sucks that I should get in trouble for working only one or two days a week. But those are the rules.
Dream #3
It was a sunny, warm, cloudless day. My brother-in-law was driving himself, my sister, and me to their new house. We rode in an old, wide-bodied car with a pale interior. My sister and I sat in the backseat. My sister and I sat facing each other and were relatively close to each other, as if we were hugging each other, or close enough to be hugging each other. I sat on the driver's side, and my sister sat on the passenger's side.
My brother-in-law and sister took turns speaking to me about how good their new place was. When my sister would talk, she'd say things as if she were also gesturing with her hands to illustrate. But her gestures were actually just reaching into my pants and grabbing me. The first time she did it, she pinched my penis a little, as if I barely had a penis, so that she had to pinch only a little.
I was too shocked by my sister's actions to do anything about it. I hoped she hadn't meant to do it. But then she did it again, this time fingering the underside of my testicles.I had a view of something like a frame of wire-hangers before my mind's eye.
I told my sister (trying not to say exactly what she was doing, so as not to let my brother-in-law know what was going on), "Uh... I think your gestures might need to be away from that place." My sister backed off quickly, as if it were quickly understood that I wasn't interested.
We now pulled up to the new place, which was something more like a multi-story townhouse than a regular single-family house. The front of the house, including the framing and trim, was all a pale coffee color, bordered on top, in my view, with a band of blue sky.
I was slightly disappointed in the place. I had been told that the place was a house, and that it was huge. But this looked like it would be more like a small apartment.
My brother-in-law asked, "Does it seem okay?"
I could tell that my brother-in-law and sister really wanted to impress me. I said, "Yeah, It's great."
My sister took me inside. The place, my sister and brother-in-law had told me, was two stories. But I only saw one story. The place was wide, with a few "main rooms" that were open to one another, providing a wide-open feel. The place was dim. The walls were thin, cheap plaster. The floors were all linoleum, like kitchen floors, and they were dirty.
My sister led me to the left. She showed me two decent-sized rooms that may have seemed run down and too dirty to live in. She showed me another room, which she expressly said was to be a bedroom. It was as small as a closet, and its floors were caked with a rusty, grainy grime. I thought of the grainy grime as rat droppings. I thought that that would really have to be cleaned before anybody could use this place as a bedroom.
My sister led me into a large room which was the master bedroom. She pointed just over and behind us, to a bathroom. It was long, with the toilet at one end and the shower far at the other end. I said, "This is a huge bathroom! Everybody will be happy with this!"
But then I realized the bathroom was attached to the master bedroom. This meant that the bathroom could only be used by the person who stayed in the master bedroom. This would probably be my mom. (The first two rooms I'd seen, or at least one of those rooms, may have been for my sister's children.) I was disappointed that only one person could use such a big bathroom.
My sister then took me into a room which would be the kitchen. It was lit by a wide window. We walked back into one of the "main area" rooms. We walked toward the right side of the room.
The "main area" room gave way to a slightly narrower room that also looked large enough to be a common room. Along the left wall were two bedrooms. Against the back wall was a small bed with a small window over it, high up on the wall. The bed had a small quilt on it.
My sister explained that during the day the room would be used as something like a living room, but that at night my mom would sleep here, to be near my sister's children's rooms. I thought, But weren't the children's rooms on the other side of the house?
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