(2/18/09) airplane flight and murder; walking on hands

(Entered in paper journal at 8:58 AM at Starbucks on Astor Place in Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I needed to get somewhere. I was pretty sure I'd be late. I would have to take an airplane. But I'd heard the airplanes weren't flying, for some reason. But now I was on a private jet. It lifted off very quickly. It was as if it lifted off by tilting its left side upward. We were high in the air. I found this hard to believe -- I really thought that all airplanes weren't allowed to take off.

I sat on the left side of the jet. I sat near the back. There were just a few other passengers on the plane. The interior of the passenger area was grey and dim.

I looked out the window. A gigantic passenger jet was right beside us. We steered under the jet as if it were just a normal part of flight. Another huge passenger jet flew past us, either going straight up or straight down. It was an American Airlines jet. Its underside was gleaming, polished, mirror-like steel. I knew this plane was going to crash.

We were over an ocean. It was now like we were flying low. I could see down to the water. A plane like a gigantic military prop plane floated with its top part out of the water. The only thing I could see were the wings each of which had three propellers. It looked like a blue whale being pulled out of the water.

We had now landed. I owned this jet, apparently. I walked to the front and down a couple of steps. I turned to face some man, with whom I was here to do business. To my left, at the top of the steps, was the pilot, who looked a little rough, grizzled, overweight. I discussed the details of the day with the man and then asked the pilot if he could find a suitable time for us to leave.

I now stood in front of a shack. It was a sunny and hot day. The shack looked yellowish and in decent shape, though the porch may have been greyish and dumpy. The front yard was all barren. I stood in a muddy circle with a shallow layer of something like water or sugar-crystal-like slush.

My brother stood in front of me. A couple messy-looking white men stood off behind my brother and to my left, probably by a pickup truck. My brother was crying to me. He had a very sad face, like he was apologizing, as if he thought he'd disappointed me all his life.

My brother said (holding up his right hand, back-side to me, sideways, in front of his forehead, with his last three fingers extended and his forefinger and thumb bending and touching to form a circle), "There were two of them. But I only killed one. One, two three."

I knew I'd have to turn my brother in for murder. But I also wanted to show him that I loved him despite what I had to do.

Dream #2

I was in a dim kitchen, facing a refrigerator. There were a couple small children aimlessly, quietly walking around. A woman stood to my right. She may have been "my mom." She opened the refrigerator door. The fridge was full of garbagey stuff wrapped in brown, plastic shopping bags.

The woman apologized to me for something. I looked at her. She was tall, tan, blonde, with long hair and pale blue eyes. She looked like a girl who used to be skinny but was now quickly getting fat. Her arms looked skinny, but from her rib cage to her hips she looked distorted -- not fat, but widened, as if her body were widening out before it rounded out. She wore a top that wrapped around her breasts and then behind her neck. It might have been attractive when she was skinny, but not now.

I sat out on a field on a hillside. Behind me, upslope, was a large vegetable garden. All around the garden the hillside had pale green grass, golden with light dew and pale morning sunlight. Beside me sat a couple of women. One of them may have been my mom as a younger woman -- less overweight, with short, dark hair. She reminded me of my somehow of my mother's mother. The other woman was very beautiful. One of the women was talking about how she was becoming a lesbian and how she was becoming attracted to the other woman.

I was now "walking" around by propping myself up with my hands while I was in a asitting position with my legs straight out.

I was acting like I was "walking normally," which was supposed to show I was unaffected by what the woman had told me. But I really couldn't walk normally. I "walked" along the bottom of the vegetable path to the right side, then up to the top and over to the top left corner.

There was a chain-link fence around the area with the vegetable patch. The fence was maybe ten feet high. My mother (more like at present) stood there. A few of "my nephews" were playing around her. Some were outside the fence. My mom was letting them in. One of them, maybe my second oldest nephew, showed me or gave me a toy like an action figure.

Something about the situation was very upsetting to me -- perhaps everything seemed dirty and sticky, and I didn't like it. I started climbing the fence (which my have had barbed wire at the top), oping I could jump over and escape for good.

(5/30/09) theater of sex torture

(Entered in paper journal at 7:09 AM on Q-train into Manhattan from Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I was in a place like an apartment room that was being used for a performance (and also something like a coffee shop?). The area was dark except for a stage-like area near the center and front of the room. The audience sat in pit-like formations of couches throughout the room.

The performance may have been about how men torture the women they are in relationships with. There were a lot of couples who would get up and perform their torture scenes, which were something like S&M sex scenes.

I walked to the back of the room and sat on a couch in one of the pit-like arrangements that was empty. I stretched my right arm up and over a small, ledge-like structure, like the small, tile-covered ledge of a fountain (in a mall, or in some Spanish plaza?).

I looked on at the performance. A woman covered completely over with a white cloth had a large fence post tied to her back, bound to her with rope so that her arms were also tied to her sides, all covered by the white sheet. The rest of the fence may have stood behind the woman.

Now I saw my old friend Y walk down to my left. She walked into a bathroom like an apartment's bathroom, except a bit larger, and closed the door. She may have started throwing up. She said she had been tortured by her ex-husband (and my old friend) R for a long time now, and that she couldn't handle it anymore. I knew Y was going to leave R.

I didn't want anything to do with the situation, as I felt it was bad on both sides. I especially didn't want to see R ever again. So knowing that R and Y were here, I stood and started to walk out.

The place was now more like a living room and cafe mixed, with no performance taking place. It was still dim.

I was almost to the door. But R called out and said, "You afraid of staying here and facing things with me? I knew it." I got angry and walked back toward R.

The place was now like a large living room and kitchen in a studio-like apartment. There were a couple dim lights on, one in the kitchen. R sat on the floor and against a cupboard in the kitchen. I charged at him. I grabbed and twisted his head until his neck was bent in an "A" shape. R's head was still right side up. But it was pressed so that the top was pressed against the top of his right shoulder, and the side was pressed against the side of his right arm.

I held R by his head and his left side. I smashed the two sides, like I was trying to press them together. I could hear R's neck vertebrae popping. I felt bad for hurting R so bad. But I was angry. I felt I needed to prove to R that he shouldn't mess with me.

I started interrogating R about what he thought of me and why he thought he could get away with torturing Y. My plan was to kill R after the questioning. R answered the questions whiningly and had a pained look on his face.