(Entered in paper journal at 8:15 AM at the Tea Lounge on Union Street and 7th Avenue in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I crouched in some corner or closet of a black-walled, dark room. The room was wide, maybe with bunk beds in it.
On the far right, out of my sight, possibly by a door, three or four black people stood joking about two snapshots or Polaroids of transvestites. I think there was only one guy in the group. All the folks were young and somewhat good looking. The people laughed because the people in the photos looked very feminine, which was something, apparently, guys just shouldn't be allowed to do.
I croaked out something like, "Well -- well -- let me see how they look." A pretty girl brought over one snapshot, which she implied wasn't the better one.
As I looked at the photo the girl said, "You don't disapprove of people doing this?" I looked at the photo. I was disappointed by how un-feminine the transvestite looked.
I looked back up at the girl. She said, "Oh -- you're one of them. Well, that's kind of fun! We can dress you up and make you look a lot prettier than either of these ones."
Showing posts with label transvestism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transvestism. Show all posts
Saturday, March 18, 2017
Sunday, March 12, 2017
(2/26/05) two lingerie departments; the place of glass; crash canyon
(No place/time info for paper journal entry.)
Dream 1
I was at some clothing store. I walked past some lingerie I wanted to try on -- I think it was a bra and panty set of pink satin lined with black lace. I only eyed it peripherally as I passed, thinking people would laugh at me for wanting to try it on.
I passed into a cluttered, eclectic area of the store. A woman came up behind me and told me I should try things on if I wanted to. So I headed back. But I couldn't really find my way back.
Eventually I found my way to another lingerie section. I must have thought it was the same one, because I looked for the bra and panty set. I couldn't find it.
The whole store was very busy. Here there were three or four bustling women edging and shoving in front of me and pulling panties off high upper shelves in shelf-casings that looked like closets or dressing rooms in a Victoria's Secret.
The panties were mesh-fronted or -backed with fluorescent (or, rather, just bright, beach-colored, like cyan or bright green) solid-fabric fronts or backs. I really wanted to try these on. But I didn't even know if they'd work with my body shape.
Dream 2
It was night. I had walked out of a building, perhaps where a party was being held, though it now looked like a combination of a Barnes & Noble and a Victorian-style, heavy-wood house now used as some kind of classy restaurant. It was also something like an airport. The parking lot in front of the building was only one row, sloping down to the curb at about a seven-degree angle.
I looked in one of the windows in front of "my" car (I stood by the passenger side door) and saw a book by Stephen King. It looked like a paperback version of The Waste Lands VI, except with a red color scheme instead of a purple one, possibly no crystal ball, and a slightly different animal skull.
I had been excited by the sight of the book. I thought it was a new release. Now I thought it was just The Waste Lands IV. But when I scrutinized the differences on the cover I got excited and looked again. Its title, which ran in wide, slender letters down the cover between the images, was The Place (or "Land"?) of Glass, not Wizard & Glass.
I had wanted to get out of the gathering as soon as possible because I felt socially awkward. But now I wanted to go back in to see the book close up.
(At this point the various sections of the dream are confused to my memory. They don't stay in the same place. I'll just write them out as I "construct" their order.)
I went into the bookstore, which was nice, with beautiful (green?) carpet and heavy, rich wood for walls, bookcases, etc., and warm, soft light. I tried to get to the Stephen King books without being noticed. I didn't want to be ridiculed for liking Stephen King.
But some worker came up to me and asked me where I was headed. I don't know if I answered, but the worker led me, anyway, down to a basement area, which, though somehow being my mom's basement, was also a huge, desert-like landscape with a brimstone-purple, clouded-over sky. It also seem to be held all up by mine shaft posts.
Now something like a quaint, wall-less train flew down out of the sky and "belly-landed" softly, almost cartoon-rubber-like,on the dusty ground. There were a bunch of old tourists, all rich and intelligent. They all waved at me as they landed. I told myself, Don't make yourself look more stupid than they already think you are.
The tourists all piled cheerfully out of the train. I asked them as they passed me where they were going. They said something and pointed to another "flying train," which looked like a commercial plane and an Amtrak train. They then said something like, "And if you, too want to take this journey, simply go XXXXX."
I planned on going XXXXX. So I walked upstairs into the kitchen with a female bookstore worker who also served as a tour guide to where I needed to go. The kitchen was brighter and cleaner and wider than my mom's kitchen. It was also stark. It ended in an open, airy, spiral-like staircase going down, maybe thirty feet, steeply, to the living room, which was bright, clean, spacious, softly carpeted, though stark, almost slicing, once again. There were one or two tallish, thin bookcases along the kitchen wall.
I was hiding some kind of panic from the worker. We passed the bookcase which held Stephen King's books. I saw that The Place of Glass was a sequel to some previous book like "CAT DNA" or "GAC DNA." I thought of the manga DNA2.
Right next to this book was a brand new (as if The Place of Glass was now old) release -- something like, I Always Remember You as Standing. It was about the World Trade Center. The cover was of a couple Empire State-like buildings in a grey, grey night. The illustration was textured and silvery.
I couldn't believe that this book existed. Its existence presaged, I believed, some new attack. I cried to the woman, "Is it already time for another attack?" The woman wouldn't answer me.
I had a copy in my hand. I threw myself to the ground, bashing my fist and my book-holding hand against the ground. I bawled and bawled, "This can't happen!" I was crying. I tried to get control of myself so the woman wouldn't see me in such a pathetic state. But now she was gone.
JH, one of my old supervisors from my Los Alamos Americorps program, walked into the kitchen. I stood up and pulled myself together instantly, in a snap.
JH said something like, "I'm sorry I'm late. I've really wanted to address these issues. Excuse me for a moment. Then we'll take care of everything right away." JH walked out onto the staircase landing to speak on his cell phone.
I looked down to the floor. Right by a stairway barrier (the space doesn't make much sense) and still inside the kitchen was some kind of plastic mock-up of a campfire: a circle of plastic stones, charred newspaper, and plastic wrapping inside the circle, and around the circle, trashy-looking "logs" of mottled plastic. The whole scene was very small, like a child's indoor imitation of a campfire. A dog like a Springer Spaniel colored black, white, and copper-brown lay before the "fire ring."
I crouched down. I realized JH camped all over the country. He had a life separated from mine. I was really looking forward to seeing him. But I couldn't make my anticipation appear too great, because JH would feel too obliged for being so important to me. If I could be free and easygoing about things, he could remain cheerful and unperturbed. I felt I shouldn't even have called him up again to meet, after all.
JH came back in. He said, "Let's discuss those issues."
I said, "Oh, you know what? Let's not worry. We both have to get going pretty soon. I have to finish my camping and you have to head to the next place. But it was good to see you." JH was pretty relieved.
I apparently lit "my" "fire." It only smoldered at a high temperature. The dog, who was now "my" dog, kept sniffing at the fire, thinking something was cooking on it. There may have been a pot of boiling water.
The dog itself was soaking wet. This surprised me (even in the dream!), and I tried to figure out what it meant psychologically. I mainly worried about keeping the dog away from the fire, partly because I didn't want the dog to get burnt, but also partly because I didn't want JH to think I was irresponsible with the dog.
I kept waving and swatting the dog away from the fire. But it kept nudging back, like a buzzying fly. Finally I tossed a little (boiling water?) on the dog's nose to give the dog a little pain and show it why it should stay away from the fire. It backed away.
I thought, Well, I'm good enough for now. But once the water boils enough, the smell of the food will break open, and the dog will lead straight at it all again.
Dream 3
I don't know where I was. I heard (wherever they were) two older folks. They spoke about a plane that had run out of gas and crashed on its belly right on the runway of the airport in Denver.
This running out of gas was considered (somehow) to have been a terrorist attack. One old man said, "So they're starting again, are they? Isn't there any safe place? When are they going to crash into the Grand Canyon?"
I now saw a bend in the "canyon." The wall of the bend had different strata of rock: orange and orange-red and peach-red. Purple grey clouds loomed low into the canyon. The sky was dark amethyst-grey.
I was trying to figure out whether I was about to see the crash. But mainly I was just amazed at the fact that I was having such a clear (!) vision of the canyon, as if my "mystical vision" was finally starting to work.
Dream 1
I was at some clothing store. I walked past some lingerie I wanted to try on -- I think it was a bra and panty set of pink satin lined with black lace. I only eyed it peripherally as I passed, thinking people would laugh at me for wanting to try it on.
I passed into a cluttered, eclectic area of the store. A woman came up behind me and told me I should try things on if I wanted to. So I headed back. But I couldn't really find my way back.
Eventually I found my way to another lingerie section. I must have thought it was the same one, because I looked for the bra and panty set. I couldn't find it.
The whole store was very busy. Here there were three or four bustling women edging and shoving in front of me and pulling panties off high upper shelves in shelf-casings that looked like closets or dressing rooms in a Victoria's Secret.
The panties were mesh-fronted or -backed with fluorescent (or, rather, just bright, beach-colored, like cyan or bright green) solid-fabric fronts or backs. I really wanted to try these on. But I didn't even know if they'd work with my body shape.
Dream 2
It was night. I had walked out of a building, perhaps where a party was being held, though it now looked like a combination of a Barnes & Noble and a Victorian-style, heavy-wood house now used as some kind of classy restaurant. It was also something like an airport. The parking lot in front of the building was only one row, sloping down to the curb at about a seven-degree angle.
I looked in one of the windows in front of "my" car (I stood by the passenger side door) and saw a book by Stephen King. It looked like a paperback version of The Waste Lands VI, except with a red color scheme instead of a purple one, possibly no crystal ball, and a slightly different animal skull.
I had been excited by the sight of the book. I thought it was a new release. Now I thought it was just The Waste Lands IV. But when I scrutinized the differences on the cover I got excited and looked again. Its title, which ran in wide, slender letters down the cover between the images, was The Place (or "Land"?) of Glass, not Wizard & Glass.
I had wanted to get out of the gathering as soon as possible because I felt socially awkward. But now I wanted to go back in to see the book close up.
(At this point the various sections of the dream are confused to my memory. They don't stay in the same place. I'll just write them out as I "construct" their order.)
I went into the bookstore, which was nice, with beautiful (green?) carpet and heavy, rich wood for walls, bookcases, etc., and warm, soft light. I tried to get to the Stephen King books without being noticed. I didn't want to be ridiculed for liking Stephen King.
But some worker came up to me and asked me where I was headed. I don't know if I answered, but the worker led me, anyway, down to a basement area, which, though somehow being my mom's basement, was also a huge, desert-like landscape with a brimstone-purple, clouded-over sky. It also seem to be held all up by mine shaft posts.
Now something like a quaint, wall-less train flew down out of the sky and "belly-landed" softly, almost cartoon-rubber-like,on the dusty ground. There were a bunch of old tourists, all rich and intelligent. They all waved at me as they landed. I told myself, Don't make yourself look more stupid than they already think you are.
The tourists all piled cheerfully out of the train. I asked them as they passed me where they were going. They said something and pointed to another "flying train," which looked like a commercial plane and an Amtrak train. They then said something like, "And if you, too want to take this journey, simply go XXXXX."
I planned on going XXXXX. So I walked upstairs into the kitchen with a female bookstore worker who also served as a tour guide to where I needed to go. The kitchen was brighter and cleaner and wider than my mom's kitchen. It was also stark. It ended in an open, airy, spiral-like staircase going down, maybe thirty feet, steeply, to the living room, which was bright, clean, spacious, softly carpeted, though stark, almost slicing, once again. There were one or two tallish, thin bookcases along the kitchen wall.
I was hiding some kind of panic from the worker. We passed the bookcase which held Stephen King's books. I saw that The Place of Glass was a sequel to some previous book like "CAT DNA" or "GAC DNA." I thought of the manga DNA2.
Right next to this book was a brand new (as if The Place of Glass was now old) release -- something like, I Always Remember You as Standing. It was about the World Trade Center. The cover was of a couple Empire State-like buildings in a grey, grey night. The illustration was textured and silvery.
I couldn't believe that this book existed. Its existence presaged, I believed, some new attack. I cried to the woman, "Is it already time for another attack?" The woman wouldn't answer me.
I had a copy in my hand. I threw myself to the ground, bashing my fist and my book-holding hand against the ground. I bawled and bawled, "This can't happen!" I was crying. I tried to get control of myself so the woman wouldn't see me in such a pathetic state. But now she was gone.
JH, one of my old supervisors from my Los Alamos Americorps program, walked into the kitchen. I stood up and pulled myself together instantly, in a snap.
JH said something like, "I'm sorry I'm late. I've really wanted to address these issues. Excuse me for a moment. Then we'll take care of everything right away." JH walked out onto the staircase landing to speak on his cell phone.
I looked down to the floor. Right by a stairway barrier (the space doesn't make much sense) and still inside the kitchen was some kind of plastic mock-up of a campfire: a circle of plastic stones, charred newspaper, and plastic wrapping inside the circle, and around the circle, trashy-looking "logs" of mottled plastic. The whole scene was very small, like a child's indoor imitation of a campfire. A dog like a Springer Spaniel colored black, white, and copper-brown lay before the "fire ring."
I crouched down. I realized JH camped all over the country. He had a life separated from mine. I was really looking forward to seeing him. But I couldn't make my anticipation appear too great, because JH would feel too obliged for being so important to me. If I could be free and easygoing about things, he could remain cheerful and unperturbed. I felt I shouldn't even have called him up again to meet, after all.
JH came back in. He said, "Let's discuss those issues."
I said, "Oh, you know what? Let's not worry. We both have to get going pretty soon. I have to finish my camping and you have to head to the next place. But it was good to see you." JH was pretty relieved.
I apparently lit "my" "fire." It only smoldered at a high temperature. The dog, who was now "my" dog, kept sniffing at the fire, thinking something was cooking on it. There may have been a pot of boiling water.
The dog itself was soaking wet. This surprised me (even in the dream!), and I tried to figure out what it meant psychologically. I mainly worried about keeping the dog away from the fire, partly because I didn't want the dog to get burnt, but also partly because I didn't want JH to think I was irresponsible with the dog.
I kept waving and swatting the dog away from the fire. But it kept nudging back, like a buzzying fly. Finally I tossed a little (boiling water?) on the dog's nose to give the dog a little pain and show it why it should stay away from the fire. It backed away.
I thought, Well, I'm good enough for now. But once the water boils enough, the smell of the food will break open, and the dog will lead straight at it all again.
Dream 3
I don't know where I was. I heard (wherever they were) two older folks. They spoke about a plane that had run out of gas and crashed on its belly right on the runway of the airport in Denver.
This running out of gas was considered (somehow) to have been a terrorist attack. One old man said, "So they're starting again, are they? Isn't there any safe place? When are they going to crash into the Grand Canyon?"
I now saw a bend in the "canyon." The wall of the bend had different strata of rock: orange and orange-red and peach-red. Purple grey clouds loomed low into the canyon. The sky was dark amethyst-grey.
I was trying to figure out whether I was about to see the crash. But mainly I was just amazed at the fact that I was having such a clear (!) vision of the canyon, as if my "mystical vision" was finally starting to work.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
(4/5/05) beethoven coffee
(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I was in a room with a right angle of chairs and a coffee table filled, on top and in little shelves which were on bottom, with magazines. A female friend had told me or was telling me that it was okay for me to get dressed up as a woman for the present gathering of folks. I was now dressed in a white dress with floral prints.
I grabbed some magazine, apparently a women's fashion special, and I sat down to flip through some pages. As I looked through the magazine I could hear a man or woman talking to me just behind my left or right shoulder. Whatever was said made me nervous about what the presently arriving folks would think of my attire. But I kept remembering the female friend telling me it was okay.
Whenever I looked down at my body I saw how feminine it was. But that didn't even register. I worried that since I couldn't shave (in waking life I couldn't shave my face on a regular basis because I had really bad acne, which shaving only made worse) my face was still hairy and that I looked like a gross pervert.
I had flipped through the magazine and found only a couple fashion articles, which were of only minor interest. I think I had been looking for a glamorous woman whom I could visualize, with a glimmer of hope that I could change myself through that visualization.
But, flipping through the pages again as I walked the magazine back to the coffee table, I saw that the articles were both about trendy, little casual jean and corduroy and hoodie outfits young girls could wear to impress young boys and still feel tomboyish for themselves.
Some people had arrived, but I didn't pay them much notice. I was flipping through the rest of the magazine, which was now a lot like a men's magazine, with a bunch of inflated-intellectual-ego stories.
One the articles was an article co-written by some staff writer and Beethoven. I wondered how this could be. Either one part was just a passage from Beethoven and the rest was the staff writer, or else the article was set up using quotes and passages of Beethoven's interspersed with the staff writer's writings. The article was only one page long. There was a watercolor portrait of Beethoven with a huge head.
It seemed like the first part of the article used the "interspersed" method and the second part was Beethoven quotes. The quotes were set up as jokes. The only one I "read" was one that ended, "It's a term for making sure you're 'zipped up' when you're standing in front of that cute cashier at the grocery store." I tried to figure out how Beethoven knew about grocery stores.
Now I was in what looked like a haunting version of a hospital cafeteria cashier line. But the place was apparently a coffee shop. A young woman rang up a small, deli-style and capless coffee, a Styrofoam box of food, and something else, all on a brown tray, for an old, rich woman. The young woman acted nice though all the while the old woman was rude.
When the young woman passed the tray to the old woman, who had in a rush passed just out of reach along the silver tray-counter, and said, "Have a nice day," the old woman awkwardly fumbled at the coffee and spilled a bit of it.
I was now in the old woman's body. I could tell there was a huge, gelling lump of sugar at the bottom of the cup. I saw everything as if I were watching an overexposed image. "I" now apologized to the girl for "my" rudeness. My hand and a little bit of my tray were sloppy with lukewarm coffee.
\
"I" was now "myself." To the girl, as if I had watched the previous transaction, I said something like, "Wow, she was sure grumpy. She needs something to calm her nerves. Maybe coffee's not the right thing for her."
Now my sight was "jump-cut" to me carrying my own cup of coffee away. A narrating voice said, "Yes, coffee is harmful -- to your body especially, causing many nervous difficulties, including paranoia, insomnia, and Islam."
Dream 1
I was in a room with a right angle of chairs and a coffee table filled, on top and in little shelves which were on bottom, with magazines. A female friend had told me or was telling me that it was okay for me to get dressed up as a woman for the present gathering of folks. I was now dressed in a white dress with floral prints.
I grabbed some magazine, apparently a women's fashion special, and I sat down to flip through some pages. As I looked through the magazine I could hear a man or woman talking to me just behind my left or right shoulder. Whatever was said made me nervous about what the presently arriving folks would think of my attire. But I kept remembering the female friend telling me it was okay.
Whenever I looked down at my body I saw how feminine it was. But that didn't even register. I worried that since I couldn't shave (in waking life I couldn't shave my face on a regular basis because I had really bad acne, which shaving only made worse) my face was still hairy and that I looked like a gross pervert.
I had flipped through the magazine and found only a couple fashion articles, which were of only minor interest. I think I had been looking for a glamorous woman whom I could visualize, with a glimmer of hope that I could change myself through that visualization.
But, flipping through the pages again as I walked the magazine back to the coffee table, I saw that the articles were both about trendy, little casual jean and corduroy and hoodie outfits young girls could wear to impress young boys and still feel tomboyish for themselves.
Some people had arrived, but I didn't pay them much notice. I was flipping through the rest of the magazine, which was now a lot like a men's magazine, with a bunch of inflated-intellectual-ego stories.
One the articles was an article co-written by some staff writer and Beethoven. I wondered how this could be. Either one part was just a passage from Beethoven and the rest was the staff writer, or else the article was set up using quotes and passages of Beethoven's interspersed with the staff writer's writings. The article was only one page long. There was a watercolor portrait of Beethoven with a huge head.
It seemed like the first part of the article used the "interspersed" method and the second part was Beethoven quotes. The quotes were set up as jokes. The only one I "read" was one that ended, "It's a term for making sure you're 'zipped up' when you're standing in front of that cute cashier at the grocery store." I tried to figure out how Beethoven knew about grocery stores.
Now I was in what looked like a haunting version of a hospital cafeteria cashier line. But the place was apparently a coffee shop. A young woman rang up a small, deli-style and capless coffee, a Styrofoam box of food, and something else, all on a brown tray, for an old, rich woman. The young woman acted nice though all the while the old woman was rude.
When the young woman passed the tray to the old woman, who had in a rush passed just out of reach along the silver tray-counter, and said, "Have a nice day," the old woman awkwardly fumbled at the coffee and spilled a bit of it.
I was now in the old woman's body. I could tell there was a huge, gelling lump of sugar at the bottom of the cup. I saw everything as if I were watching an overexposed image. "I" now apologized to the girl for "my" rudeness. My hand and a little bit of my tray were sloppy with lukewarm coffee.
\
"I" was now "myself." To the girl, as if I had watched the previous transaction, I said something like, "Wow, she was sure grumpy. She needs something to calm her nerves. Maybe coffee's not the right thing for her."
Now my sight was "jump-cut" to me carrying my own cup of coffee away. A narrating voice said, "Yes, coffee is harmful -- to your body especially, causing many nervous difficulties, including paranoia, insomnia, and Islam."
(4/15/05) not interested in love; payphones outside the party
(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
My NYC Americorps crew mate VT had found some boyfriend who looked like a tall, chubby, Middle Eastern, middle-class guy. I found this out somehow. I was now in some area that looked like the courtyard for some Ancient Greek building, or a stage set for Agamemnon.
VT said, "I know you're sad that I'm with this man now. But I can't help it." I kept trying to tell VT that I was actually indifferent. But she kept interrupting me. And the more I tried to tell her I didn't care the worse and worse her interruptions would become, and the more her mouth would fill up with some kind of bread-like food.
VT said something like, "After all, I know you are attracted to me. But that can't be. Now I have this man. Or maybe it can be. If you're attracted to me enough. Or maybe I'm attracted enough to you. I think I am attracted to you. You should feel lucky. You're right. I'm going to dump that man and be with you."
VT was right by me now, trying to rub up against me. I put a hand over her slobbery, food-filled mouth, and said, "Shut up! Listen to me!" She was still talking, even muffled by my hand.
I yelled at her, "Listen! My mom and you have the same name! My mom is only five years younger than you! Do you see now? I'm not attracted to you!"
VT stopped talking. For a split second I saw her stare at me as if I had punched her in the stomach.
Now I was laying on what seems now like a very low transfusion cot in some aisle (maybe makeup) in a Duane-Reade-type store. The cot was yellow, I think. VT was now split with my mom, so I could see and hear "them both" "singly." It like there was thunder in the distance and in the center of my head.
I was apparently waiting to have a baby. "VT"/"my mom" was going to deliver the baby -- though I only saw "them"/"her" in my head or at some very close range hovering over my rib cage.
We spoke about how I wanted to be a woman and how I wished I could have a baby. But now I was finally going to have a baby. But now it was discovered that I was really a man, so I couldn't have a baby, not even the kind they give you in the store.
I was now float-flying stomach-down throughout the store, which was a little ragged and which looked to front out into a mall-like area like Port Authority. All the time I heard "VT"/"my mom" talking about how I must be gay since I'm a transvestite and I want to have a baby. So they were going to find me a nice man. I told them I didn't want a man. I wasn't gay, and I wasn't interested in being with anybody.
It seems like that voice finally stopped. I realized I'd left something, perhaps a yellow, vinyl bag, by the cot. As I got there a youngish mother lay down on the cot. Her little boy wandered nearby in the aisle as his mother waited to have/get her baby.
I don't know whether I could see my bag. But I decided that since the mother just lay down for her baby I wouldn't go near the cot and make her feel like I was trying to get into her space.
Dream 2
I was at a party at "my friend R's place," which was dark and full of strobe lights and dim-colored lights and rooms. My friend CV kept hanging around me like I had all the answers. Finally, just to get away from him, I left the party. But he came outside with me. It was wet, like it had just rained. The area was like some college campus's dormitory area.
CV said, "I just had to get away from that party. I'm going to use the payphones over there." I saw, by some small student building, a little covered patio area lit in orange lights with four wide seating booths with payphones and these brown-grey painted metal walls on some stand-up payphones.
I was very interested in how wide and comfortable those phone booths looked. But it also feels like there was something technologically interesting about the phones, something a little strange or different that made them slightly alluring and slightly repulsive.
Dream 1
My NYC Americorps crew mate VT had found some boyfriend who looked like a tall, chubby, Middle Eastern, middle-class guy. I found this out somehow. I was now in some area that looked like the courtyard for some Ancient Greek building, or a stage set for Agamemnon.
VT said, "I know you're sad that I'm with this man now. But I can't help it." I kept trying to tell VT that I was actually indifferent. But she kept interrupting me. And the more I tried to tell her I didn't care the worse and worse her interruptions would become, and the more her mouth would fill up with some kind of bread-like food.
VT said something like, "After all, I know you are attracted to me. But that can't be. Now I have this man. Or maybe it can be. If you're attracted to me enough. Or maybe I'm attracted enough to you. I think I am attracted to you. You should feel lucky. You're right. I'm going to dump that man and be with you."
VT was right by me now, trying to rub up against me. I put a hand over her slobbery, food-filled mouth, and said, "Shut up! Listen to me!" She was still talking, even muffled by my hand.
I yelled at her, "Listen! My mom and you have the same name! My mom is only five years younger than you! Do you see now? I'm not attracted to you!"
VT stopped talking. For a split second I saw her stare at me as if I had punched her in the stomach.
Now I was laying on what seems now like a very low transfusion cot in some aisle (maybe makeup) in a Duane-Reade-type store. The cot was yellow, I think. VT was now split with my mom, so I could see and hear "them both" "singly." It like there was thunder in the distance and in the center of my head.
I was apparently waiting to have a baby. "VT"/"my mom" was going to deliver the baby -- though I only saw "them"/"her" in my head or at some very close range hovering over my rib cage.
We spoke about how I wanted to be a woman and how I wished I could have a baby. But now I was finally going to have a baby. But now it was discovered that I was really a man, so I couldn't have a baby, not even the kind they give you in the store.
I was now float-flying stomach-down throughout the store, which was a little ragged and which looked to front out into a mall-like area like Port Authority. All the time I heard "VT"/"my mom" talking about how I must be gay since I'm a transvestite and I want to have a baby. So they were going to find me a nice man. I told them I didn't want a man. I wasn't gay, and I wasn't interested in being with anybody.
It seems like that voice finally stopped. I realized I'd left something, perhaps a yellow, vinyl bag, by the cot. As I got there a youngish mother lay down on the cot. Her little boy wandered nearby in the aisle as his mother waited to have/get her baby.
I don't know whether I could see my bag. But I decided that since the mother just lay down for her baby I wouldn't go near the cot and make her feel like I was trying to get into her space.
Dream 2
I was at a party at "my friend R's place," which was dark and full of strobe lights and dim-colored lights and rooms. My friend CV kept hanging around me like I had all the answers. Finally, just to get away from him, I left the party. But he came outside with me. It was wet, like it had just rained. The area was like some college campus's dormitory area.
CV said, "I just had to get away from that party. I'm going to use the payphones over there." I saw, by some small student building, a little covered patio area lit in orange lights with four wide seating booths with payphones and these brown-grey painted metal walls on some stand-up payphones.
I was very interested in how wide and comfortable those phone booths looked. But it also feels like there was something technologically interesting about the phones, something a little strange or different that made them slightly alluring and slightly repulsive.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
(6/10/05) jokes about my teeth; heading to el paso; corporate volunteerism; catalpa flowers
(Entered in paper journal at 6:42 AM on uptown-bound 2-train from 116th Street station.)
Dream 1
I heard some people telling jokes about my teeth. I may actually have been one of the people making fun of me. I saw myself in a mirror. My teeth were so covered over with plaque that the plaque was like a strip of orange grime, which I peeled right now.
Dream 2
I got on a train, possibly with my friend ML. I don't know where we were going. The train may have "been" a bus or a train. We may have been heading to El Paso.
A couple people we sat by were weird. We switched cars.
I think at one point I was laying down and looking out the window at the dark blue of late night or early morning and feeling the rolling along of the train.
Dream 3
I was in the back of something like a pickup truck, stomach down, kind of half-on and half-off the bed. My crew mate and friend KB (?) and some other woman sat cross-legged on the bed. They had been making fun of me a little.
I now read in some magazine about a corporation like Walmart that was allowing people to do community service. I said I thought at least the corporation was doing one good thing.
KB and the woman sneered at me. They simply didn't and wouldn't like the corporation. I felt even stupider. I may have started crying.
Dream 4
There was some party in an nice house. I saw RL, one of my ecology supervisors for my NYC Americorps program. I told him that I had seen a catalpa tree in bloom. I said, "The flowers are interesting."
RL kind of interrupted me. He said, "You actually like the look of catalpa flowers?"
I continued, "They look a lot like azalea flowers. That's how you can see a difference between the catalpa tree and the royal paulownia trees: the flowers. But, no, I guess the flowers are not interesting."
Now I was running around the room while RL threw orange dish soap at me. I walked down the hallway now, hoping nobody would wonder why I was so messy.
I was now a transvestite. I walked into a bathroom to see myself in a mirror. I was Asian. I looked good. I posed a bit and thought how I could improve my look.
Dream 1
I heard some people telling jokes about my teeth. I may actually have been one of the people making fun of me. I saw myself in a mirror. My teeth were so covered over with plaque that the plaque was like a strip of orange grime, which I peeled right now.
Dream 2
I got on a train, possibly with my friend ML. I don't know where we were going. The train may have "been" a bus or a train. We may have been heading to El Paso.
A couple people we sat by were weird. We switched cars.
I think at one point I was laying down and looking out the window at the dark blue of late night or early morning and feeling the rolling along of the train.
Dream 3
I was in the back of something like a pickup truck, stomach down, kind of half-on and half-off the bed. My crew mate and friend KB (?) and some other woman sat cross-legged on the bed. They had been making fun of me a little.
I now read in some magazine about a corporation like Walmart that was allowing people to do community service. I said I thought at least the corporation was doing one good thing.
KB and the woman sneered at me. They simply didn't and wouldn't like the corporation. I felt even stupider. I may have started crying.
Dream 4
There was some party in an nice house. I saw RL, one of my ecology supervisors for my NYC Americorps program. I told him that I had seen a catalpa tree in bloom. I said, "The flowers are interesting."
RL kind of interrupted me. He said, "You actually like the look of catalpa flowers?"
I continued, "They look a lot like azalea flowers. That's how you can see a difference between the catalpa tree and the royal paulownia trees: the flowers. But, no, I guess the flowers are not interesting."
Now I was running around the room while RL threw orange dish soap at me. I walked down the hallway now, hoping nobody would wonder why I was so messy.
I was now a transvestite. I walked into a bathroom to see myself in a mirror. I was Asian. I looked good. I posed a bit and thought how I could improve my look.
Sunday, February 12, 2017
(9/1/06) my brother's and my music; a DVD case; wearing girl clothes and jumping up steps
(Entered in paper journal at 9:33 AM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I sat in the backseat of a white car, on the driver's side. I was with my brother. We both may have been wearing white. I had put in some music. My brother, in the front passenger seat, hung back to face me between the two front seats.
My brother spoke about the music I chose in a somewhat derogatory way. I got angry and rushed to change the CD to whatever music my brother wanted. As I was speaking my brother was plugging headphones into a white tape recorder. He started listening to his own music -- some kind of rap. He sat forward in his seat.
I think I had been yelling at my brother. He was now crying that I had gotten so mad at him for just making a statement -- that I had thought he was trying to make me stop listening to my music. I tried to comfort my brother in apology. I ran my fingers through his hair on the back of his head.
Dream 2
I was in a white room, before a white CD player. Someone was showing me a CD or DVD about a Rolling Stones concert. There was a case for a recordable DVD. The case had red or green pen-writing on it.
Dream 3
I was in a huge, beautiful, wood-walled room a few floors up in a building. I was wearing women's clothing -- a white tank-top, blue jeans, and pink underwear. I realized all the people around me (in a class? coworkers? -- definitely standing around a leader before a TV or blackboard/whiteboard) would soon realize I was in girl clothes.
I thought I should change. But instead I went downstairs to find a (videotape?) we had forgotten for our meeting. Heading back up the beautiful, dark wood staircase, which went in a square, I found I could jump up entire flights. Some people may have come in at some point to taunt me.
Dream 1
I sat in the backseat of a white car, on the driver's side. I was with my brother. We both may have been wearing white. I had put in some music. My brother, in the front passenger seat, hung back to face me between the two front seats.
My brother spoke about the music I chose in a somewhat derogatory way. I got angry and rushed to change the CD to whatever music my brother wanted. As I was speaking my brother was plugging headphones into a white tape recorder. He started listening to his own music -- some kind of rap. He sat forward in his seat.
I think I had been yelling at my brother. He was now crying that I had gotten so mad at him for just making a statement -- that I had thought he was trying to make me stop listening to my music. I tried to comfort my brother in apology. I ran my fingers through his hair on the back of his head.
Dream 2
I was in a white room, before a white CD player. Someone was showing me a CD or DVD about a Rolling Stones concert. There was a case for a recordable DVD. The case had red or green pen-writing on it.
Dream 3
I was in a huge, beautiful, wood-walled room a few floors up in a building. I was wearing women's clothing -- a white tank-top, blue jeans, and pink underwear. I realized all the people around me (in a class? coworkers? -- definitely standing around a leader before a TV or blackboard/whiteboard) would soon realize I was in girl clothes.
I thought I should change. But instead I went downstairs to find a (videotape?) we had forgotten for our meeting. Heading back up the beautiful, dark wood staircase, which went in a square, I found I could jump up entire flights. Some people may have come in at some point to taunt me.
Monday, February 6, 2017
(9/26/06) trying on a sick woman's clothes; can she stay with me?
(Entered in paper journal at 7:15 PM at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I had picked up some clothes for a woman. It was pretty serious, like she was sick (and ?) without the clothes. I went to a dressing room to try the clothes on. As I went in, the clothes "had become" men's clothes. The dressing hall and rooms were all grey. It was cluttered, and there were clothes everywhere.
Right before I was fully in the room a standard stereotypical "fat and jowls" businessman came out of a different dressing room. The clothes were girl clothes again. I tried to hide the clothes from the businessman. I tried to act manly in front of the man, who really had no suspicions (or care) about what I was trying on, anyway.
Hurrying into the dressing room I wondered what had become of the clothes I had been sent to get for the woman.
Dream 2
I got an email (to which I may have responded by phone) from my friend KB. She needed a place to stay, but I didn't quite get that from what she had said. I figured we were just going to hang out, and possibly at 4 PM. It was morning.
I went to do my laundry. As I put my laundry in the machine, I thought over the wording of KB's statements and realized that she had asked me if she could stay at my place -- and that I had indirectly said no! I figured I would tell KB yes face-to-face as soon as I saw her (which may have been as soon as I finished doing my laundry).
While the load was washing, I walked out of the laundromat. I walked down a couple blocks, possibly to a store for some coffee. It was sunny, brisk. The town and buildings were large: blue-grey shadows everywhere. But there were no people. I was alone.
Dream 1
I had picked up some clothes for a woman. It was pretty serious, like she was sick (and ?) without the clothes. I went to a dressing room to try the clothes on. As I went in, the clothes "had become" men's clothes. The dressing hall and rooms were all grey. It was cluttered, and there were clothes everywhere.
Right before I was fully in the room a standard stereotypical "fat and jowls" businessman came out of a different dressing room. The clothes were girl clothes again. I tried to hide the clothes from the businessman. I tried to act manly in front of the man, who really had no suspicions (or care) about what I was trying on, anyway.
Hurrying into the dressing room I wondered what had become of the clothes I had been sent to get for the woman.
Dream 2
I got an email (to which I may have responded by phone) from my friend KB. She needed a place to stay, but I didn't quite get that from what she had said. I figured we were just going to hang out, and possibly at 4 PM. It was morning.
I went to do my laundry. As I put my laundry in the machine, I thought over the wording of KB's statements and realized that she had asked me if she could stay at my place -- and that I had indirectly said no! I figured I would tell KB yes face-to-face as soon as I saw her (which may have been as soon as I finished doing my laundry).
While the load was washing, I walked out of the laundromat. I walked down a couple blocks, possibly to a store for some coffee. It was sunny, brisk. The town and buildings were large: blue-grey shadows everywhere. But there were no people. I was alone.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
(1/26/08) crowley's catholic wedding
(Entered in paper journal at 8 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was driving in a car along a hill in very dark night. Down the hill I saw a city which I thought of as Albuquerque. The city was spiral, in an almost hexagonal pattern. I felt like I lived in a trailer on the outskirts of the town.
From the center of teh city the "power" went out. The very center of the city was black, lightless, except a tiny circle of light, as in the center of a pentagon. From the center the orange and yellowish lights went out, to the edge of the city. All that were left were greyish-white lights, although those lights may actually have provided half the light in the city.
I felt like the town's energy had gone out because people hadn't been conserving, and so it would go out completely if people didn't finally start conserving. I wondered about my trailer on the outskirts of town. I couldn't doubt that I, too, had not conserved. But was I wasting energy even now, while I wasn't even in the trailer? I thought I should consider every way in which I could conserve.
I was in a church. There was a wedding, possibly between my old boss and constant mentor, EB, and a blonde woman. I stood near the back of the church. The church was brightly lit and full of people. EB (?) stood at the back of the church, in business attire rather than a tuxedo. He was a couple rows ahead of me, but on his side (the left side) of the church it seemed the pews ended a couple rows up from the rows on my side, so that EB and I both stood behind the back pews of our respective sides.
I stood by the bride, who was dressed in a normal wedding gown. At one point I leaned close and spoke with the bride. She was standing. She may suddenly have been wearing a thick, pink nightgown. At this point I may also have been a woman and wearing the same thing.
I was myself again. Everybody was kneeling for part of the church service, as if this were now a regular Catholic (?) service. The bride may have knelt (in her wedding gown again) on a footstool. I may have tried to go up a couple rows to find some space available on one of the kneeling benches in the pews.
As I looked I saw a glass door to my right. Through the door I saw another sanctuary, also full of people. A couple people, my co-worker CR and a tall man with a wide, baldish head and white hair, were walking toward the door.
The man was a Lutheran minister, and he wore a collar. I thought he had come dressed up for the wedding. I had previously only seen him in regular clothes. I didn't know if he knew me, but I knew him. I was happy to see him dressed up.
I was getting ready to hold the door open for the man and CR. But the man brusquely opened the door, almost pushing me over, and walked past me, barely acknowledging me, and not acknowledging me in any friendly way. I was shocked.
I saw a sign, as if it were turned on its side. The sign was maybe eight feet long and one foot wide. There was white lettering against a red background for most of it, but on the far right side was a black and white photo of a man who looked like Aleister Crowley except with a huge, black beard and a broad-brimmed hat.
The words that took up most of the sign described this man and were pairs of adjectives separated by slashes. The description pairs weren't quite opposites, more like between opposites and complements. The last part was "tall by nature and tall by stature/but always a stranger."
Dream #1
I was driving in a car along a hill in very dark night. Down the hill I saw a city which I thought of as Albuquerque. The city was spiral, in an almost hexagonal pattern. I felt like I lived in a trailer on the outskirts of the town.
From the center of teh city the "power" went out. The very center of the city was black, lightless, except a tiny circle of light, as in the center of a pentagon. From the center the orange and yellowish lights went out, to the edge of the city. All that were left were greyish-white lights, although those lights may actually have provided half the light in the city.
I felt like the town's energy had gone out because people hadn't been conserving, and so it would go out completely if people didn't finally start conserving. I wondered about my trailer on the outskirts of town. I couldn't doubt that I, too, had not conserved. But was I wasting energy even now, while I wasn't even in the trailer? I thought I should consider every way in which I could conserve.
I was in a church. There was a wedding, possibly between my old boss and constant mentor, EB, and a blonde woman. I stood near the back of the church. The church was brightly lit and full of people. EB (?) stood at the back of the church, in business attire rather than a tuxedo. He was a couple rows ahead of me, but on his side (the left side) of the church it seemed the pews ended a couple rows up from the rows on my side, so that EB and I both stood behind the back pews of our respective sides.
I stood by the bride, who was dressed in a normal wedding gown. At one point I leaned close and spoke with the bride. She was standing. She may suddenly have been wearing a thick, pink nightgown. At this point I may also have been a woman and wearing the same thing.
I was myself again. Everybody was kneeling for part of the church service, as if this were now a regular Catholic (?) service. The bride may have knelt (in her wedding gown again) on a footstool. I may have tried to go up a couple rows to find some space available on one of the kneeling benches in the pews.
As I looked I saw a glass door to my right. Through the door I saw another sanctuary, also full of people. A couple people, my co-worker CR and a tall man with a wide, baldish head and white hair, were walking toward the door.
The man was a Lutheran minister, and he wore a collar. I thought he had come dressed up for the wedding. I had previously only seen him in regular clothes. I didn't know if he knew me, but I knew him. I was happy to see him dressed up.
I was getting ready to hold the door open for the man and CR. But the man brusquely opened the door, almost pushing me over, and walked past me, barely acknowledging me, and not acknowledging me in any friendly way. I was shocked.
I saw a sign, as if it were turned on its side. The sign was maybe eight feet long and one foot wide. There was white lettering against a red background for most of it, but on the far right side was a black and white photo of a man who looked like Aleister Crowley except with a huge, black beard and a broad-brimmed hat.
The words that took up most of the sign described this man and were pairs of adjectives separated by slashes. The description pairs weren't quite opposites, more like between opposites and complements. The last part was "tall by nature and tall by stature/but always a stranger."
Saturday, January 12, 2013
(8/7/08) pushed out of unused desk; lingerie roach
(Entered in paper journal at 6:25 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn into Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was at my desk at work. I was watching something like an earnings presentation on my mini-DVD player. My old boss DO walked around on the floor. I suddenly felt like I wasn't working hard enough. I tried to concentrate on the earnings presentation even harder.
Suddenly the angle I was sitting at was is if I were sitting at my co-worker (on DO's team) MD's desk at the building we'd previously worked at. (In waking life, my company had recently moved from one building to another building.) I wondered if DO might stop by and say hi to me.
I felt someone pushing down on my left elbow. It was MD, wearing a casual, white button-up and some khaki shorts. It was like he was trying to elbow me out of his chair.
Dream #2
I was in "my bedroom." I was pulling some nice dresses out of a bag. One dress was white with pinkish-red designs. I was going to hang it in my closet.
I walked to my closet and noticed how easily I could see up to my top shelf. (In waking life, the top shelf of my closet was a few inches above the top of my head.) There weren't many articles of clothing there. (In waking life, the top shelf of my closet was where I horded all of my lingerie and women's clothing -- mostly cheap articles I'd bought from discount stores.) I thought something like, I'm really cleaning up!
But something toward the wall caught my eye as I was looking away. I looked back. The thing was a "roach." It was maybe two inches long, and fat. Its back end was covered in white, as if it were casting off skin or as if it were developing a shell around itself to undergo metamorphosis. I couldn't tell whether the thing was dead or alive.
Dream #1
I was at my desk at work. I was watching something like an earnings presentation on my mini-DVD player. My old boss DO walked around on the floor. I suddenly felt like I wasn't working hard enough. I tried to concentrate on the earnings presentation even harder.
Suddenly the angle I was sitting at was is if I were sitting at my co-worker (on DO's team) MD's desk at the building we'd previously worked at. (In waking life, my company had recently moved from one building to another building.) I wondered if DO might stop by and say hi to me.
I felt someone pushing down on my left elbow. It was MD, wearing a casual, white button-up and some khaki shorts. It was like he was trying to elbow me out of his chair.
Dream #2
I was in "my bedroom." I was pulling some nice dresses out of a bag. One dress was white with pinkish-red designs. I was going to hang it in my closet.
I walked to my closet and noticed how easily I could see up to my top shelf. (In waking life, the top shelf of my closet was a few inches above the top of my head.) There weren't many articles of clothing there. (In waking life, the top shelf of my closet was where I horded all of my lingerie and women's clothing -- mostly cheap articles I'd bought from discount stores.) I thought something like, I'm really cleaning up!
But something toward the wall caught my eye as I was looking away. I looked back. The thing was a "roach." It was maybe two inches long, and fat. Its back end was covered in white, as if it were casting off skin or as if it were developing a shell around itself to undergo metamorphosis. I couldn't tell whether the thing was dead or alive.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
(3/15/09) mist-fall; what i deserve; sewer sorcerer
(Entered in paper journal at 9:10 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood in a wilderness, before a small castle, with my friends. The sun was shining gently through the forest leafs. I noticed a strange thing before the castle. It was like a waterfall, or more like a shower of mist, that fell into a small pool. My friends and I may just have come from some place where we couldn't touch all the water because it was dirty or diseased. I was now afraid to touch this strange mist.
I looked closer and saw that this mist-fall was like a cylinder of water or of a clear, gelly matter, that flowed slowly down to the pool. Within the flume were arranged little, pale things. They may have been alive. They were star-shaped. The things were interspersed with larger things that may have looked more like pieces of food, like vegetables, perhaps, chopped for sushi. These things may also have been alive.
I put my hand into the flume. The "water" was now like air, and the little elements just floated, orderly, down to the pool. The stuff felt a little dirty. I pulled my hand out. My friends and I may have walked through the castle's doorway, which was to my right.
Dream #2
I was with a group of people, some of whom were my peers, while some of them may have been children or my family members. The room we were in was large and warm-colored, with yellow carpet (?). It seemed to be set into two or three shallow levels, possibly with the highest, back level a little bit behind a "proscenium." The whole area (upon my waking reflection felt) like a playroom, like for preschool children.
I had gotten into a petty argument with one of my peers (who looked like a docent who gave a tour at the Japan Society's anime exhibit, which I'd attended in waking life on the day before this dream). The argument then led my peer, who was in charge of some project we were working on, either to take some part of the project away from me, or actually to have a group of the people involved in the project set to attack me in some way. The way in which the man did this was apparently a process, the first steps of which had begun, and which I now recognized.
I spoke to someone like a pretty girl with olive skin and long, curly, black hair, who told me that maybe I wouldn't have had all this happen to me if I hadn't been all snitty with my peer. The woman said I had been acting like a woman. She actually used a specific word to signify a little, weak, disagreeable girl.
I thought, Well, I wish it weren't happening. But I guess I deserve it.
I now stood over a pile of overturned dresses. I opened up one of the drawers to pull out some clothes for the day. There were some pairs of panties. I pulled out some of these from the drawer. I hoped nobody would notice me doing this. My mom may have been standing off just to my right. The area before us (the back of the room?) may have been cobalt blue, like the stage version of a sky at night.
Dream #3
I stood down into a "sewer system" with a friend of mine. We stood in a maze of brick-walled, arched tunnels. There was water running through a small channel. We stood over the channel on a platform that ran along the wall. The tunnel was dark, but the water was lit, as if by a pool light. The water was crystal clear, but the floor and walls of the channel were green, as with moss or algae. I was afraid of touching the water, since it was sewer water. I didn't want to get a disease.
We moved through a couple other areas of the sewer. Finally we were in an area with a glass ceiling through which flowed grey daylight. The area was like a bunch of red-brick arches, set at all different angles, standing like walls with no rooms. There might have been multiple levels, built one on the other. Some of the arches may have stood over water channels.
My friend stood up to my right, on a level above mine. He may have looked like a sorcerer. He told me how some people were making bad use of this place, even how some people were coming down here to use drugs.
Dream #1
I stood in a wilderness, before a small castle, with my friends. The sun was shining gently through the forest leafs. I noticed a strange thing before the castle. It was like a waterfall, or more like a shower of mist, that fell into a small pool. My friends and I may just have come from some place where we couldn't touch all the water because it was dirty or diseased. I was now afraid to touch this strange mist.
I looked closer and saw that this mist-fall was like a cylinder of water or of a clear, gelly matter, that flowed slowly down to the pool. Within the flume were arranged little, pale things. They may have been alive. They were star-shaped. The things were interspersed with larger things that may have looked more like pieces of food, like vegetables, perhaps, chopped for sushi. These things may also have been alive.
I put my hand into the flume. The "water" was now like air, and the little elements just floated, orderly, down to the pool. The stuff felt a little dirty. I pulled my hand out. My friends and I may have walked through the castle's doorway, which was to my right.
Dream #2
I was with a group of people, some of whom were my peers, while some of them may have been children or my family members. The room we were in was large and warm-colored, with yellow carpet (?). It seemed to be set into two or three shallow levels, possibly with the highest, back level a little bit behind a "proscenium." The whole area (upon my waking reflection felt) like a playroom, like for preschool children.
I had gotten into a petty argument with one of my peers (who looked like a docent who gave a tour at the Japan Society's anime exhibit, which I'd attended in waking life on the day before this dream). The argument then led my peer, who was in charge of some project we were working on, either to take some part of the project away from me, or actually to have a group of the people involved in the project set to attack me in some way. The way in which the man did this was apparently a process, the first steps of which had begun, and which I now recognized.
I spoke to someone like a pretty girl with olive skin and long, curly, black hair, who told me that maybe I wouldn't have had all this happen to me if I hadn't been all snitty with my peer. The woman said I had been acting like a woman. She actually used a specific word to signify a little, weak, disagreeable girl.
I thought, Well, I wish it weren't happening. But I guess I deserve it.
I now stood over a pile of overturned dresses. I opened up one of the drawers to pull out some clothes for the day. There were some pairs of panties. I pulled out some of these from the drawer. I hoped nobody would notice me doing this. My mom may have been standing off just to my right. The area before us (the back of the room?) may have been cobalt blue, like the stage version of a sky at night.
Dream #3
I stood down into a "sewer system" with a friend of mine. We stood in a maze of brick-walled, arched tunnels. There was water running through a small channel. We stood over the channel on a platform that ran along the wall. The tunnel was dark, but the water was lit, as if by a pool light. The water was crystal clear, but the floor and walls of the channel were green, as with moss or algae. I was afraid of touching the water, since it was sewer water. I didn't want to get a disease.
We moved through a couple other areas of the sewer. Finally we were in an area with a glass ceiling through which flowed grey daylight. The area was like a bunch of red-brick arches, set at all different angles, standing like walls with no rooms. There might have been multiple levels, built one on the other. Some of the arches may have stood over water channels.
My friend stood up to my right, on a level above mine. He may have looked like a sorcerer. He told me how some people were making bad use of this place, even how some people were coming down here to use drugs.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
(9/16/09) old friends and sex; college girls' lingerie
(Entered in dream journal at 7:54 AM at Sit & Wonder cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I walked down a sidewalk of brownstone buildings in the daytime. I was going to meet my old friend R and his wife L. I saw them sitting on a staircase in front of a brownstone. I may have been looking at my BlackBerry as I walked up to R and L. I put my BlackBerry down and then looked up at R and L.
We were now in a large restaurant, somewhat fancy, with tall walls. The walls and fixtures were all made of wood and brass. Natural daylight probably came in through windows. We walked up to a table that had booth seats on one side and chairs on the other, with the booth seats' back serving as booth seats' backs on the other side as well.
I may have been standing there by myself, looking at my BlackBerry. I walked over to a much larger booth table, where a lot of people were sitting. These people were all my friends. R and L may have been among them. Behind the people were two tall windows, letting in a dim view of a tallish, brick row building and a deep, clear, blue sky.
I watched a group of women walk out of the row building. The women were all young adults, with short, pale blonde hair and bronzed skin. They wore tight, sleeveless or tank-top shirts and carried boxes or plastic crates with them, as if they were moving out.
Among the women was my old friend PD, who looked odd with short, pale blonde hair. PD seemed to be looking in through the window and into the restaurant. I waved to PD, trying to get her attention. But she didn't seem to notice. She continued with the girls down to a vehicle, maybe a van.
I told everybody at the table (I was still standing), "That was PD! I tried to get her attention!" I wondered whether PD and the other girls were all lesbians. For some reason their hairstyles seemed lesbian to me. PD was now among the people at the table. The people at the table were all conversing casually.
I walked away, reading my BlackBerry. I was now in a room, which was still in the restaurant. The room was about twelve feet by twelve feet, with gentle, yellowish, natural light coming into the room. But the room felt run-down, like the paint on the walls was chipping and the wood floors were unpolished. Three chairs of tall, old wood stood side by side.
Behind the chairs stood a young, Japanese man. The man held a cloth bag and a black, cardboard box like a shoebox. The box had dimmish, silver-grey writing on it. The bag had a Takashi Murakami flower and logo on it. I realized, from the bag, that I knew the man.
As the man and I conversed laughingly about how we knew each other (by speaking about how we knew Murakami), either R or R and L walked into the room. I thought, If R knows I'm friends with this man, he'll try to destroy the friendship. I walked out of the room.
I was back in the main area of the restaurant. I sat down at a booth seat in a half-booth table, behind which was dimness and a bar up at the top of a roughly seven-foot-tall tier.
A woman sat next to me. She was pretty, maybe ten years older than I, with long, blonde hair and a red dress. We spoke for a while and then were home at the woman's apartment. We were in bed. I was on top of her, moving against her. The woman looked like Cindy Crawford: thin, with dark-tanned skin and brown-blonde hair. She wore black panties and a black bra. As I rubbed against the woman, she opened her mouth in a wide "O" of pleasure.
I was now walking out of a large apartment complex with my old co-worker BK. It was probably early morning, the clear sky a dim silver-blue. BK and I walked under some scaffolding near some tall buildings.
BK told me, "When I was first looking for jobs, I used DO" (an old boss of mine) "as a reference. But I then realized that was a mistake. DO always gives the most restrained, least positive opinion about anybody he has to give a reference for."
BK may then have asked whether I used DO as a reference. I felt bad for telling BK yes. So I went into some long speech about how at first DO had promised me he would give me a good reference.
We were now walking through a wide, vacant lot of asphalt which was worn and cracked, with patches of grass growing through in places. We crossed a street, probably to a large, clean parking lot at the end of which was a clean, tan and pink shopping mall lit in watery, white light. We then crossed the street, back to the asphalt lot. Across the lot was a tall, wide apartment complex atop a tall, torn-looking hill. BK And I walked down the vacant lot, to another set of buildings and scaffolding.
BK started jumping around with excitement, all fluttery, like a girl. He started talking about how excited he was about some party he was throwing. He asked me if I was coming. I may have wondered whether BK was gay. I then began whether I had had sex with the blonde woman or with BK.
Dream #2
It was black night. I walked (counter-clockwise?) around a square of dwellings like very small rooms separated from one another by thin walls. The rooms had ceilings like thatch or wicker. This square of dwellings was in the center of a lawny field.
The rooms were all dimly lit, some with fires, some, probably, with electric light. The rooms were all filled with colorful objects, mainly swatches of fabric for clothing. The rooms were all for college aged people. I didn't see a lot of people (maybe none, at first), although there was an atmosphere of people being around, a feeling of liveliness.
I started looking into each of the room-units. I occasionally saw women's clothes lying on the beds. I took looks through all the clothing, seeing what I might like to come back to and try on. I now came to a room, brighter than the others, lit by electric light, with a few people all lounging around, mostly on the bed. The people may have been members of my college comedy performance group, although I think they may all have been women.
The people told me they knew I'd been looking through all the women's clothing. They told me I'd be welcome to try on anything I liked. I may have spoken with them a little, partly trying to justify my habit, about how I chose the clothing I would try on. I may have seen myself trying on a classical pair of thick, satin panties by the light of a fire.
Dream #1
I walked down a sidewalk of brownstone buildings in the daytime. I was going to meet my old friend R and his wife L. I saw them sitting on a staircase in front of a brownstone. I may have been looking at my BlackBerry as I walked up to R and L. I put my BlackBerry down and then looked up at R and L.
We were now in a large restaurant, somewhat fancy, with tall walls. The walls and fixtures were all made of wood and brass. Natural daylight probably came in through windows. We walked up to a table that had booth seats on one side and chairs on the other, with the booth seats' back serving as booth seats' backs on the other side as well.
I may have been standing there by myself, looking at my BlackBerry. I walked over to a much larger booth table, where a lot of people were sitting. These people were all my friends. R and L may have been among them. Behind the people were two tall windows, letting in a dim view of a tallish, brick row building and a deep, clear, blue sky.
I watched a group of women walk out of the row building. The women were all young adults, with short, pale blonde hair and bronzed skin. They wore tight, sleeveless or tank-top shirts and carried boxes or plastic crates with them, as if they were moving out.
Among the women was my old friend PD, who looked odd with short, pale blonde hair. PD seemed to be looking in through the window and into the restaurant. I waved to PD, trying to get her attention. But she didn't seem to notice. She continued with the girls down to a vehicle, maybe a van.
I told everybody at the table (I was still standing), "That was PD! I tried to get her attention!" I wondered whether PD and the other girls were all lesbians. For some reason their hairstyles seemed lesbian to me. PD was now among the people at the table. The people at the table were all conversing casually.
I walked away, reading my BlackBerry. I was now in a room, which was still in the restaurant. The room was about twelve feet by twelve feet, with gentle, yellowish, natural light coming into the room. But the room felt run-down, like the paint on the walls was chipping and the wood floors were unpolished. Three chairs of tall, old wood stood side by side.
Behind the chairs stood a young, Japanese man. The man held a cloth bag and a black, cardboard box like a shoebox. The box had dimmish, silver-grey writing on it. The bag had a Takashi Murakami flower and logo on it. I realized, from the bag, that I knew the man.
As the man and I conversed laughingly about how we knew each other (by speaking about how we knew Murakami), either R or R and L walked into the room. I thought, If R knows I'm friends with this man, he'll try to destroy the friendship. I walked out of the room.
I was back in the main area of the restaurant. I sat down at a booth seat in a half-booth table, behind which was dimness and a bar up at the top of a roughly seven-foot-tall tier.
A woman sat next to me. She was pretty, maybe ten years older than I, with long, blonde hair and a red dress. We spoke for a while and then were home at the woman's apartment. We were in bed. I was on top of her, moving against her. The woman looked like Cindy Crawford: thin, with dark-tanned skin and brown-blonde hair. She wore black panties and a black bra. As I rubbed against the woman, she opened her mouth in a wide "O" of pleasure.
I was now walking out of a large apartment complex with my old co-worker BK. It was probably early morning, the clear sky a dim silver-blue. BK and I walked under some scaffolding near some tall buildings.
BK told me, "When I was first looking for jobs, I used DO" (an old boss of mine) "as a reference. But I then realized that was a mistake. DO always gives the most restrained, least positive opinion about anybody he has to give a reference for."
BK may then have asked whether I used DO as a reference. I felt bad for telling BK yes. So I went into some long speech about how at first DO had promised me he would give me a good reference.
We were now walking through a wide, vacant lot of asphalt which was worn and cracked, with patches of grass growing through in places. We crossed a street, probably to a large, clean parking lot at the end of which was a clean, tan and pink shopping mall lit in watery, white light. We then crossed the street, back to the asphalt lot. Across the lot was a tall, wide apartment complex atop a tall, torn-looking hill. BK And I walked down the vacant lot, to another set of buildings and scaffolding.
BK started jumping around with excitement, all fluttery, like a girl. He started talking about how excited he was about some party he was throwing. He asked me if I was coming. I may have wondered whether BK was gay. I then began whether I had had sex with the blonde woman or with BK.
Dream #2
It was black night. I walked (counter-clockwise?) around a square of dwellings like very small rooms separated from one another by thin walls. The rooms had ceilings like thatch or wicker. This square of dwellings was in the center of a lawny field.
The rooms were all dimly lit, some with fires, some, probably, with electric light. The rooms were all filled with colorful objects, mainly swatches of fabric for clothing. The rooms were all for college aged people. I didn't see a lot of people (maybe none, at first), although there was an atmosphere of people being around, a feeling of liveliness.
I started looking into each of the room-units. I occasionally saw women's clothes lying on the beds. I took looks through all the clothing, seeing what I might like to come back to and try on. I now came to a room, brighter than the others, lit by electric light, with a few people all lounging around, mostly on the bed. The people may have been members of my college comedy performance group, although I think they may all have been women.
The people told me they knew I'd been looking through all the women's clothing. They told me I'd be welcome to try on anything I liked. I may have spoken with them a little, partly trying to justify my habit, about how I chose the clothing I would try on. I may have seen myself trying on a classical pair of thick, satin panties by the light of a fire.
(9/18/09) lingerie triangle
(Entered in dream journal at 8:07 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I was in a department store. I saw that there was some extreme clearance sale on lingerie. I looked through some racks of stuff to see if there was anything I'd like to get. Nothing really caught my attention, and most of the racks around me seemed empty.
I saw, beyond some empty stretches of floor and a couple wall-like partitions, a couple bargain tables topped with plastic bins full of panties. I thought I might find something more interesting there. I walked over and began looking through the bins.
A female employee walked up to see if I needed any help. She was about six inches shorter than I, very skinny, with light brown skin and darkish blonde hair. She wore a blue or black polo shirt and khaki pants.
I told the woman that I was looking for nice lingerie for myself. The woman helped me look for things. She led me to some bins full of the same lingerie: panties and teddies of some material that was thin, like cotton, but also velvety, with various patterns printed on them in a pea-green color. At first we were finding "M" sizes, which I thought would be too big for me.
I got an erection as the girl continued helping me. I thought she was so enthusiastic that maybe she was turned on by the fact that I was a transvestite. I thought I might even get to have sex with her. I thought how nice it would feel to be inside her. But I wanted to try on all this lingerie in front of the woman first, to see if she'd like the way I looked. So I tried to lose my erection, so I could try on things without my erection showing.
I also wondered now if the girl weren't actually seventeen years old. I thought, If the girl's only seventeen, I'd better just forget things altogether. She wouldn't be old enough for me to have a relationship with.
The girl went away, possibly to find the items in an "S" size. Now a youngish, Hispanic man, also an employee, came to help me. We actually sat down at chairs at a round table that was topped with small, messy piles of panties. The man was tallish, thin, with clean-cut hair and mustache and small, round spectacles.
The man joked with me about it being a shock, expecting to see the girl coming back, but seeing him instead. I laughed and said that it was a shock. At some point I may have seen the girl approaching. But I didn't pay attention to the girl. I didn't want the guy to see me paying attention to the girl. I thought he would get angry that the girl liked me, and that he would then start causing problems between me and the girl.
Dream #1
I was in a department store. I saw that there was some extreme clearance sale on lingerie. I looked through some racks of stuff to see if there was anything I'd like to get. Nothing really caught my attention, and most of the racks around me seemed empty.
I saw, beyond some empty stretches of floor and a couple wall-like partitions, a couple bargain tables topped with plastic bins full of panties. I thought I might find something more interesting there. I walked over and began looking through the bins.
A female employee walked up to see if I needed any help. She was about six inches shorter than I, very skinny, with light brown skin and darkish blonde hair. She wore a blue or black polo shirt and khaki pants.
I told the woman that I was looking for nice lingerie for myself. The woman helped me look for things. She led me to some bins full of the same lingerie: panties and teddies of some material that was thin, like cotton, but also velvety, with various patterns printed on them in a pea-green color. At first we were finding "M" sizes, which I thought would be too big for me.
I got an erection as the girl continued helping me. I thought she was so enthusiastic that maybe she was turned on by the fact that I was a transvestite. I thought I might even get to have sex with her. I thought how nice it would feel to be inside her. But I wanted to try on all this lingerie in front of the woman first, to see if she'd like the way I looked. So I tried to lose my erection, so I could try on things without my erection showing.
I also wondered now if the girl weren't actually seventeen years old. I thought, If the girl's only seventeen, I'd better just forget things altogether. She wouldn't be old enough for me to have a relationship with.
The girl went away, possibly to find the items in an "S" size. Now a youngish, Hispanic man, also an employee, came to help me. We actually sat down at chairs at a round table that was topped with small, messy piles of panties. The man was tallish, thin, with clean-cut hair and mustache and small, round spectacles.
The man joked with me about it being a shock, expecting to see the girl coming back, but seeing him instead. I laughed and said that it was a shock. At some point I may have seen the girl approaching. But I didn't pay attention to the girl. I didn't want the guy to see me paying attention to the girl. I thought he would get angry that the girl liked me, and that he would then start causing problems between me and the girl.
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