(2/1/05) did it really happen?; friends at a film festival

(No place/time info for entry in paper journal.)

Dream 1

I was up in a bedroom overlooking a backyard and a street like a "T" or cul-de-sac separated from the backyard by a tall, wooden fence. A group of kids played in the backyard. A girl, possibly black, walked down the street and was suddenly hit by a car.

Everybody in the backyard, somehow seeing the event "through" the fence, panicked. I tried to keep a hold on my emotions. I called 911. I talked with them for a while, giving a confusing speech about where I was, when the accident happened, and if anybody had helped yet. But now the dispatcher was telling me the girl had already been taken away, dead, by some police who had been called earlier.

I was now standing somewhere like a backyard with my mom. It was now like all of this had only been a "suggested" (i.e. not really remembered) memory of my life from when I was two or three.

I asked my mom, "Did it really happen?"

My mom said, "Yes."

I said, "Well, did I see it happen?"

But my mom didn't answer. She just looked at me, deciding whether she should tell me. The closer she got to telling me, the less I wanted her to. I felt like if she told me out loud what I already suspected, all the trauma from the accident would come back on me, even worse.

Dream 2

I was part of some short film festival. The films had been shown. Now people were "voting" for the ones they liked. Part of the films were briefly shown. Then people would say positive or negative things.

I couldn't stand to think of my film being judged. I walked out to a bridge that crossed from New York to New Jersey. It was strange. It looked like it had hills or slopes or tiered tunnels to it. I walked up to the beginning of a footpath. A woman came up and asked me directions somewhere. I may have helped her.

I was now walking down a street, toward my friend Y and her new boyfriend HK. Y asked me why I hadn't voted for HK's film to be in first place. I said, "Because it was... not flat, but not as complex and full as it could have been."

Y got mad. She started saying all kinds of positive things in defense of HK. Now she was holding something in her hand -- white, sometimes textured like an Osage Orange fruit, sometimes textured like cottage cheese or a Pakistani pistachio dessert, sometimes textured like a small, long-furred, grey and white kitten.

Y asked me, much more calmly, almost sadly, why I never try to make contact with her. I made some excuse and then said something like, "But we're talking now. We're making contact now. Let's keep it up."

(10/30/08) caring for great-grandmother; brahms idol lucidity

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

Dream #1

I was in the room of an empty (?) apartment. I was there with a couple other people. It was daytime, and bluish, pale light came in through the windows. The floors were dark wood and the walls were brick.

A woman wanted to do something to open a window. She may have wanted to remove the window entirely. I just stood and watched, as if I were too lazy to help, or as if I were afraid of something happening if the window were opened. Another man came up and helped the woman remove the window. It was now night. When I saw how easily the man had removed the window, I felt ashamed for not having helped.

My mom now sat in a big house, talking with someone I couldn't see. The person was like a member of the family, but also like a nurse or someone else carrying out a business duty. The person was telling my mom that my great-grandmother could no longer take care of herself and would need to have a lot of people living with her to take care of her. They would all need to live either in this house or in the house next to or behind it.

Apparently all the people had chosen what house they would live in. I could imagine that the house of their choice would get crowded and dirty rather quickly. But I thought the other house, which everybody regarded as the "second," inferior house, was nicer and more spacious. I thought about its big living room in particular.

Now I sat across from my mom. My mom said, "They're definitely going to need to live in one of the houses. Which house should we live in instead?"

I said, "The second house."

Dream #2

I walked into a building. I might have come into a hotel lobby. I was going to a cattle call for American Idol. I kept walking through a series of hallways. I couldn't find anything. The hallways were all pretty busy, though most people were walking in the opposite direction from me. One person, talking about the line, said, "People are going to be in that thing for a long time."

I was now following a young man. He was about my height, heavier, pale white, with longish, light brown hair. He wore eyeglasses and a maroon shirt. We walked through what appeared to be a number of back hallways and stairwells. I kept wondering why I'd even wanted to come to this audition anyway.

We mostly walked alone. But when we'd emerge in a more frequented hallway we'd meet with some other people. I saw a couple people I knew. One was a shortish, Mexican, boyish-looking woman. She wore black clothes and a black trucker hat that was cocked to the side. She gave me a friendly nudge on the ribs and said hi.

Finally the young man and I walked down a stairwell to meet what was apparently the back of the line for the American Idol audition. The line seemed like it must have reached down a few more flights before extending even farther through a hallway.

The young man called out, "Is this the line for the Brahms symphony?"

A woman who was maybe in her mid-forties, like a mother, but still attractive, blonde, wearing a white sweater and blue jeans, told the young man, "No. But I'm sure if you wait ten or fifteen minutes, this line will clear out, and you'll be able to find the line for the Brahms concert."

I suddenly thought, Why am I in line for this audition at all? I should be in line for the Brahms concert. I got out of line and walked out a door that was at the bottom of the flight of stairs.

I stood in a desert environment. It appeared to be late in the afternoon. I felt a tremendous sense of peace.

Suddenly I realized I was in a dream. I told myself to focus. I started to float up in the air. The area around me was a desert area beside an industrial area or a place like Los Alamos National Laboratory.

I felt like I was starting to fall back out of the dream. I shouted out, "No! I want to stay here! I don't want to go back!"

I told myself that if I just focused I could stay here. I needed to get back down to the ground first. I was barefoot. I told myself that if I could just feel the gravel of the road, that would make everything real for me. I looked around. There were two old soil-mounds that were now growing white and yellow flowers.

I felt myself being pulled backwards, as if I were being physically pulled away.

The building was white, ridged sheet metal. The sky was deep blue, clear, but with deep grey clouds on the horizon. It was a warm day, but a thunderstorm was looming.

I told myself, If I could just feel the warmth of the day, I could make this real, and then I could stay here forever.

(1/29/10) one of the lesbians

(Entered in paper journal at 5:01 PM on Q-train heading back to Brooklyn from work.)

Dream #1

A movie, probably Just One of the Guys. A scene of two girls and at least one other person, maybe a guy, in a smallish bedroom. The room was bright, with natural light against pale walls. The two girls were the main character and her best friend. The scene was the scene in which the main girl decided to dress up as a guy.

Something was implied in the scene, either hints being dropped in conversation or else a kind of physical tension between the two girls, that made me think the girls were actually in love with each other, and that the main girl secretly didn't mind becoming a guy because that meant she would be able to be with her friend sexually without anybody asking questions.

I wondered about this relationship. I felt like there had been some scene efore this one where the girls were flirting with each other and where they'd almost admitted their attraction to each other, but were interrupted right at the crucial moment.

I now saw the previous scene. It was in the same bedroom. The girls were alone in the room. The main girl had just gotten out of the shower. She had a white cloth, either a towel or a terry-cloth robe, wrapped very loosely around her. Her friend sat on the bed. She looked admiringly at the main character.

Somehow the main character's breasts became exposed. At this moment, both girls suddenly felt a deep attraction toward each other. They didn't say anything to each other; they just began romping around "for fun"  on the bed.

They ended up so that the friend lay on her back under the main girl, who also lay on her back, laying across the friend's torso.The main girl was almost naked, the cloth barely wrapping around her hips. The friend began fondling the nipple of the main girl's left breast with the index and middle finger of her left hand.

The friend said something like, "I like your body a lot." She may have said, "I like your breasts a lot."

The friend may now have started fondling other parts of the main girl's body, including her bellybutton. The two girls were very quiet and yet passionate. They were about to kiss, when the other friends interrupted the situation. I knew that this was the beginning to the scene I had originally been watching.