Dream 1
I was in an SUV-like vehicle with a group of girls who might have been gay. They were all trying to get away from me. I was in the front passenger seat. We were in a parking lot in the dark. The girls were all talking about things in such a way that I felt excluded and stupid.
I was eating ramen in long strings, whole mouthfuls of it. I felt guilty, like I shouldn't be eating so much, like I was gaining weight.
The girls had all gotten out of the car and gone into a big-box warehouse. I had gotten out with them and had possibly planned to go to the store with them, but I had gotten distracted by something in the car as I stood in the space of the open door.
The girls were now my mom and family. They were in the store. I went in after them, but I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get past the security guards. My mom had had the idea to go into the place.
I was on my cell phone with my mom. I told my mom I was afraid of the security guards. My mom said, "Just tell them you're with me. They know who you are."
My mom was telling me about packages of powdered fat. She was trying to convince me to take some if she bought some. I told her I didn't have any use for powdered fat.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
(5/14/07) warding off a predator; afraid of a gas pump; flying hawk; "leave me alone!"; desert predators
(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM, on Q-train from Brooklyn in to Manhattan for work.)
Dream 1
I was traveling down a country road near dusk. The light was dim grey. I may have been riding a bicycle. There was a crowd of bicyclists behind me. Many of them may have been wearing pink riding shirts or riding pink bikes.
I looked forward again. I was riding with a child now. He asked me about going to a special school, possibly for autistic children. I told him that it wasn't a bad thing, and that it would help him.
We rode past a weird "animal" that stood to the right of a scraggly, dead or dying tree. The "animal" may also have been standing behind a straw dummy of a tree. I thought the animal was a wolf. It was tall, with a very shaggy, white coat. It had a dog's face and dark, or rather dim and murky, eyes. It may have been standing upright.
I felt that the animal wanted to attack the child and that it was waiting for one second for me to let my guard down so it could attack. I turned to it (it was to my left as we traveled down the right side of the road) and barked at it with a strange, howling voice. I thought this voice would fool the animal by making it think we were another animal, so that it shouldn't attack us or we would attack it.
It took a while to pass the animal. We may have passed another one a while later.
Dream 2
I was in a subway train with a group of girls. We had passed one stop. Some of the girls may have been depending on me to tell them when our stop was coming up. But now we were in a place that I couldn't recognize. We were under a bridge like a street would be under a bridge for elevated trains. But the bridge was very wide.
I saw as if I were outside the train. The train had come down from a slight, long slope on the right side of which was a tunnel lit like a subway platform. All the ground under the bridge was strung with rail line, all very close together, so the whole ground looked covered in steel.
I had to admit I didn't know where we were. One of the girls (I couldn't see any of the girls, and I'm not sure I was quite with them) said she knew where we were going and I was just an idiot. I felt like she was trying to make all the other girls fall in love with her.
The train turned and moved across all the tracks, leading toward a small dirt hill out from under the bridge. The train was now a vehicle like a Hummer, tan or beige.
We had to inspect or work on some place. I asked if it was all of some place. The woman who was now the leader said, "No. There's only two percent of this place that we need to worry about." She said it once again as if I should have known that.
We drove into a dusty area scattered with various industrial machinery. We pulled up to a filling station. The leader woman showed us how to put gas in the vehicle. The gas nozzle was just a big hose. The gas gushed out of it in huge flows.
We had to stick the nozzle in a hole at the top of a beige structure that looked like a propane tank. Inside the propane tank was something like a plastic jug. Something about the jug, hose, and tank had to be in alignment while the gas was flowing.
At one point one of the girls pulled the hose out of the tank. I was afraid to touch it because even the though the gas wasn't flowing right then, I was afraid that it would catch me by surprise and spray all over me, burning me up somehow.
All the girls told me to stop being afraid, to steady myself, that nothing bad was going to happen. I put the hose back into the tank. I could see that the gas was filling the tank around the plastic "jug."
Dream 3
Walking with a group of people in a desert on a fusey, purplish night, I saw a hawk fly over a small pool of water which was surrounded by chipped, red earth.
Dream 4
I sat next to a fattish, black man (who sat to my left). The man was getting too close to me. He tried to pull my checkbook out of my back pocket. I kept him from doing so. But now he was pinching my left leg, about four inches above the knee. I yelled at him, "Leave me alone!" He just laughed at me, like he was happy he had finally hurt me.
Dream 5
I was watching a program about some homeless shelter where people served huge bowls of beautiful looking minestrone to people. I thought, I wish I had the ability to make such good-looking food for myself.
I knelt "outside" a house (it felt like I was in a big living room). My oldest nephew stood in front of me. He had just spent time with my dad and his wife. My dad's wife stood in the doorway of the house, watching us.
I knew I had to keep from saying anything bad about my dad's wife or about my nephew staying with her. I even felt bad for saying, "I know it's nice, after you've stayed in a different place, just to get back to your own bed, where everything is familiar."
My nephew asked, "Don't you think while I'm here they should let me walk around?" Apparently my dad and his wife lived in the desert. I thought that if I stayed here, I'd like to walk around, too. Besides, my nephew was eleven now, wasn't he?
But I looked at my nephew. He was still so small. I touched his back (he wasn't wearing a t-shirt) and told him, "Could you wait a couple years before you go walking around? You're still small, and there are a lot of animals out there that can attack you."
Dream 1
I was traveling down a country road near dusk. The light was dim grey. I may have been riding a bicycle. There was a crowd of bicyclists behind me. Many of them may have been wearing pink riding shirts or riding pink bikes.
I looked forward again. I was riding with a child now. He asked me about going to a special school, possibly for autistic children. I told him that it wasn't a bad thing, and that it would help him.
We rode past a weird "animal" that stood to the right of a scraggly, dead or dying tree. The "animal" may also have been standing behind a straw dummy of a tree. I thought the animal was a wolf. It was tall, with a very shaggy, white coat. It had a dog's face and dark, or rather dim and murky, eyes. It may have been standing upright.
I felt that the animal wanted to attack the child and that it was waiting for one second for me to let my guard down so it could attack. I turned to it (it was to my left as we traveled down the right side of the road) and barked at it with a strange, howling voice. I thought this voice would fool the animal by making it think we were another animal, so that it shouldn't attack us or we would attack it.
It took a while to pass the animal. We may have passed another one a while later.
Dream 2
I was in a subway train with a group of girls. We had passed one stop. Some of the girls may have been depending on me to tell them when our stop was coming up. But now we were in a place that I couldn't recognize. We were under a bridge like a street would be under a bridge for elevated trains. But the bridge was very wide.
I saw as if I were outside the train. The train had come down from a slight, long slope on the right side of which was a tunnel lit like a subway platform. All the ground under the bridge was strung with rail line, all very close together, so the whole ground looked covered in steel.
I had to admit I didn't know where we were. One of the girls (I couldn't see any of the girls, and I'm not sure I was quite with them) said she knew where we were going and I was just an idiot. I felt like she was trying to make all the other girls fall in love with her.
The train turned and moved across all the tracks, leading toward a small dirt hill out from under the bridge. The train was now a vehicle like a Hummer, tan or beige.
We had to inspect or work on some place. I asked if it was all of some place. The woman who was now the leader said, "No. There's only two percent of this place that we need to worry about." She said it once again as if I should have known that.
We drove into a dusty area scattered with various industrial machinery. We pulled up to a filling station. The leader woman showed us how to put gas in the vehicle. The gas nozzle was just a big hose. The gas gushed out of it in huge flows.
We had to stick the nozzle in a hole at the top of a beige structure that looked like a propane tank. Inside the propane tank was something like a plastic jug. Something about the jug, hose, and tank had to be in alignment while the gas was flowing.
At one point one of the girls pulled the hose out of the tank. I was afraid to touch it because even the though the gas wasn't flowing right then, I was afraid that it would catch me by surprise and spray all over me, burning me up somehow.
All the girls told me to stop being afraid, to steady myself, that nothing bad was going to happen. I put the hose back into the tank. I could see that the gas was filling the tank around the plastic "jug."
Dream 3
Walking with a group of people in a desert on a fusey, purplish night, I saw a hawk fly over a small pool of water which was surrounded by chipped, red earth.
Dream 4
I sat next to a fattish, black man (who sat to my left). The man was getting too close to me. He tried to pull my checkbook out of my back pocket. I kept him from doing so. But now he was pinching my left leg, about four inches above the knee. I yelled at him, "Leave me alone!" He just laughed at me, like he was happy he had finally hurt me.
Dream 5
I was watching a program about some homeless shelter where people served huge bowls of beautiful looking minestrone to people. I thought, I wish I had the ability to make such good-looking food for myself.
I knelt "outside" a house (it felt like I was in a big living room). My oldest nephew stood in front of me. He had just spent time with my dad and his wife. My dad's wife stood in the doorway of the house, watching us.
I knew I had to keep from saying anything bad about my dad's wife or about my nephew staying with her. I even felt bad for saying, "I know it's nice, after you've stayed in a different place, just to get back to your own bed, where everything is familiar."
My nephew asked, "Don't you think while I'm here they should let me walk around?" Apparently my dad and his wife lived in the desert. I thought that if I stayed here, I'd like to walk around, too. Besides, my nephew was eleven now, wasn't he?
But I looked at my nephew. He was still so small. I touched his back (he wasn't wearing a t-shirt) and told him, "Could you wait a couple years before you go walking around? You're still small, and there are a lot of animals out there that can attack you."
(5/27/07) tiger barra barra; a tree had been on fire
(Entered in paper journal at 9:40 AM. But not sure where.)
Dream 1
I was walking with my friends R and L and a prettyish, blonde girl in a parking lot at night. The blonde girl was to my right, and R and L were to her right. We were all looking at some sheet of paper which had specialty food manufacturer names on it. The girl wore a black and white print sleeveless dress. I kept rubbing my right arm against her left arm, like we were flirting.
We got to the end of the parking lot. The girl stood on the porch of her house at the edge of a small lawn behind a fence. Her door was open. She said goodbye to everybody.
I was disappointed. I hadn't made a move to get closer to the girl. I might have been afraid that R and L would have gotten angry at me and tried to get the girl not to like me. But now they had walked a little way down the parking lot. I had a second to speak to the girl. I told the girl I would come back for her. She gave me another sheet of paper.
I sat in the backseat of a car R or L drove. I looked at, and maybe spoke about, the sheet of paper. One of the food manufacturers listed was Tiger Barra Barra. for some reason this seemed so familiar to me.
Dream 2
A tree had been on fire. It fell and made a fire, but the fire was contained to a circle. A number of people stood around the circle, which was maybe thirty feet in diameter. The "fire" was now actually just deep green plants. One of the people said we didn't need to contain this fire as it had fallen into such an isolated spot.
Dream 1
I was walking with my friends R and L and a prettyish, blonde girl in a parking lot at night. The blonde girl was to my right, and R and L were to her right. We were all looking at some sheet of paper which had specialty food manufacturer names on it. The girl wore a black and white print sleeveless dress. I kept rubbing my right arm against her left arm, like we were flirting.
We got to the end of the parking lot. The girl stood on the porch of her house at the edge of a small lawn behind a fence. Her door was open. She said goodbye to everybody.
I was disappointed. I hadn't made a move to get closer to the girl. I might have been afraid that R and L would have gotten angry at me and tried to get the girl not to like me. But now they had walked a little way down the parking lot. I had a second to speak to the girl. I told the girl I would come back for her. She gave me another sheet of paper.
I sat in the backseat of a car R or L drove. I looked at, and maybe spoke about, the sheet of paper. One of the food manufacturers listed was Tiger Barra Barra. for some reason this seemed so familiar to me.
Dream 2
A tree had been on fire. It fell and made a fire, but the fire was contained to a circle. A number of people stood around the circle, which was maybe thirty feet in diameter. The "fire" was now actually just deep green plants. One of the people said we didn't need to contain this fire as it had fallen into such an isolated spot.
(5/28/07) blue family love; psychiatric panties; subway race tension; jet cancer; once and for all
(Entered in paper journal at 7:40 AM at home.)
Dream 1
I had a daughter who was about sixteen years old. I started allowing her to have sex with other members of the family. I also started having sex with her. I thought perhaps I was allowing too much by letting her have sex with my wife.
I penetrated my daughter from behind while she was on all fours. Part of me (me, actually, not whoever I was in the dream) wondered if I would be able to stand the feeling of my penis in the girl's vagina.
I saw a computer screen describing how the girl took over the family by making the mom fall in love with her. It was like an email. Parts of the text were black, and parts were blue, like the text of a reply email, though they were all together in one paragraph. I was going through the paragraph and turning everything blue.
Dream 2
I had gotten in a car with my brother. It was night. We were going to see a psychiatrist. But I had to go back into my mom's house. I had done laundry and left everything on my bed. I had left guy clothes and girl clothes. I didn't want my little nephew (maybe J?) to come into the room and see this stuff.
I went into the room and arranged the clothes in very dim light. I stuffed my girl clothes into a dresser. At some point I heard my sister say, "Your brother said he's going to the store to get a soda. He just can't wait anymore. Weren't you going with him?" I kept finding panties and lingerie in the pile, though, I couldn't leave until everything was put away.
Finally I almost left. My mom and my little nephew were in bed. I walked past my little nephew's open door. I told him goodnight. I hoped my mom wouldn't think that my saying that was grounds for me to be blamed for something like child molestation.
But now I saw I wasn't wearing pants or underwear. I ran back into the room to put something on. It seemed to take forever for me to put on my pants. In fact, I never actually got them on.
I watched out the window (the front window of the house?) and saw my brother pull away. I knew he wasn't going for a soda. he was going to the psychiatrist without me.
Dream 3
I was on a packed subway. Two big, black guys who were friends were taunting a little, white guy who sat beside his beautiful, blonde girlfriend.
The white guy looked kind of sloppy. His hair was bushy like the Beatles-style bowl-cut, and it was deep black. His skin was a pallid olive, and his face had a fattish, conceited look. He wore awful clothes, too big, drab-colored, sweaty looking. He was puny.
The white guy's girlfriend was more physically fit. She was dressed in classy, dark clothes and had a very solid appearance. Her blue eyes were very bright.
The black men might have said something about the woman, hoping that would turn her on, as a way to flirt. The white guy had answered back with a mean comment. The men were now taunting the man with remarks like, "Just leave him alone. He's a white man, anyway. We can kick his ass. He'll get his."
I could see the black men were trying to get the white man to fight. But the man just ignored them and read his book, giving his girlfriend an occasional glance to let her know everything was going to be okay.
I didn't like the white guy. But I thought I would be ready to fight on his side if the two black guys wanted to start any trouble.
Dream 4
I stood in a huge field in the daytime, watching jets take off. They took off in the distance and gained altitude over my head. I was slightly turned so they took off to my right and flew off to my left I couldn't make out what any of them were. They all had a strange look.
My mom stood to my left. I told her, "There are jets taking off here. Watch!"
Another jet took off. It looked like Ryu's jet in Gatchaman, except orange and red. I actually gave it an "F-" (i.e. fighter-jet) name.
The jet wobbled up and down as it passed over our heads. I knew it wasn't going to make it. I watched as it crashed into the small town in the distance. A huge jet of fire shot upwards. I moaned, "Oh, Christ, no."
Some rescue vehicle was pulling the jet back toward us. The jet was over us, hovering, as if in the tractor-beam of another aircraft which hovered nearby. The jet looked fine except for a couple burn marks and a small plume of fire constantly flowing from its "gas tank."
The pilot crawled out and tumbled down to the ground. He wore a white, plasticky outfit with a thick, red stripe down the middle and a white helmet. He was injured, but we didn't know how.
I saw a news program. The anchorman spoke about a contagious form of cancer the pilot had caught. He said the cancer got beneath the lower layers of your skin and attacked you there. The anchorman's face was cracked and veined, bloody. His eyes were popped open, like they had no lids. I thought, Doesn't he know he has this disease, too?
I watched as if time were passing, as the anchorman came on the program in different stages of decay. I saw other programs. Some people's jaws were gone. Other people's skin had completely smoothed their faces featureless and brown. One woman announced the news with a rotten, blue face. Another person's face was just bubbled, charred blackness and bones.
I now saw these images pass before me like the opening of an infomercial, while a song played, asking, What part of yourself do you hate the most?, as if this cancer were a new way for people to make themselves look good.
Dream 5
I stood before an advertisement at a bus stop. The ad kept changing, but it was for a TV program on the UFO conspiracy. The background was roiling red, like flames of an explosion.
Then there was white lettering and a black and white photo of a thin, tiny-spectacled, bald man with a mustache. The writing kept changing, but at one point it said something to the effect that in 1952 UFOs could have been shown as a truth once and for all to the public had the military allowed (Gregory Kosch???), the man in the photo, to present his evidence.
I thought, Well, this should prove to my psychiatrist A once and for all that these things are real.
Dream 1
I had a daughter who was about sixteen years old. I started allowing her to have sex with other members of the family. I also started having sex with her. I thought perhaps I was allowing too much by letting her have sex with my wife.
I penetrated my daughter from behind while she was on all fours. Part of me (me, actually, not whoever I was in the dream) wondered if I would be able to stand the feeling of my penis in the girl's vagina.
I saw a computer screen describing how the girl took over the family by making the mom fall in love with her. It was like an email. Parts of the text were black, and parts were blue, like the text of a reply email, though they were all together in one paragraph. I was going through the paragraph and turning everything blue.
Dream 2
I had gotten in a car with my brother. It was night. We were going to see a psychiatrist. But I had to go back into my mom's house. I had done laundry and left everything on my bed. I had left guy clothes and girl clothes. I didn't want my little nephew (maybe J?) to come into the room and see this stuff.
I went into the room and arranged the clothes in very dim light. I stuffed my girl clothes into a dresser. At some point I heard my sister say, "Your brother said he's going to the store to get a soda. He just can't wait anymore. Weren't you going with him?" I kept finding panties and lingerie in the pile, though, I couldn't leave until everything was put away.
Finally I almost left. My mom and my little nephew were in bed. I walked past my little nephew's open door. I told him goodnight. I hoped my mom wouldn't think that my saying that was grounds for me to be blamed for something like child molestation.
But now I saw I wasn't wearing pants or underwear. I ran back into the room to put something on. It seemed to take forever for me to put on my pants. In fact, I never actually got them on.
I watched out the window (the front window of the house?) and saw my brother pull away. I knew he wasn't going for a soda. he was going to the psychiatrist without me.
Dream 3
I was on a packed subway. Two big, black guys who were friends were taunting a little, white guy who sat beside his beautiful, blonde girlfriend.
The white guy looked kind of sloppy. His hair was bushy like the Beatles-style bowl-cut, and it was deep black. His skin was a pallid olive, and his face had a fattish, conceited look. He wore awful clothes, too big, drab-colored, sweaty looking. He was puny.
The white guy's girlfriend was more physically fit. She was dressed in classy, dark clothes and had a very solid appearance. Her blue eyes were very bright.
The black men might have said something about the woman, hoping that would turn her on, as a way to flirt. The white guy had answered back with a mean comment. The men were now taunting the man with remarks like, "Just leave him alone. He's a white man, anyway. We can kick his ass. He'll get his."
I could see the black men were trying to get the white man to fight. But the man just ignored them and read his book, giving his girlfriend an occasional glance to let her know everything was going to be okay.
I didn't like the white guy. But I thought I would be ready to fight on his side if the two black guys wanted to start any trouble.
Dream 4
I stood in a huge field in the daytime, watching jets take off. They took off in the distance and gained altitude over my head. I was slightly turned so they took off to my right and flew off to my left I couldn't make out what any of them were. They all had a strange look.
My mom stood to my left. I told her, "There are jets taking off here. Watch!"
Another jet took off. It looked like Ryu's jet in Gatchaman, except orange and red. I actually gave it an "F-" (i.e. fighter-jet) name.
The jet wobbled up and down as it passed over our heads. I knew it wasn't going to make it. I watched as it crashed into the small town in the distance. A huge jet of fire shot upwards. I moaned, "Oh, Christ, no."
Some rescue vehicle was pulling the jet back toward us. The jet was over us, hovering, as if in the tractor-beam of another aircraft which hovered nearby. The jet looked fine except for a couple burn marks and a small plume of fire constantly flowing from its "gas tank."
The pilot crawled out and tumbled down to the ground. He wore a white, plasticky outfit with a thick, red stripe down the middle and a white helmet. He was injured, but we didn't know how.
I saw a news program. The anchorman spoke about a contagious form of cancer the pilot had caught. He said the cancer got beneath the lower layers of your skin and attacked you there. The anchorman's face was cracked and veined, bloody. His eyes were popped open, like they had no lids. I thought, Doesn't he know he has this disease, too?
I watched as if time were passing, as the anchorman came on the program in different stages of decay. I saw other programs. Some people's jaws were gone. Other people's skin had completely smoothed their faces featureless and brown. One woman announced the news with a rotten, blue face. Another person's face was just bubbled, charred blackness and bones.
I now saw these images pass before me like the opening of an infomercial, while a song played, asking, What part of yourself do you hate the most?, as if this cancer were a new way for people to make themselves look good.
Dream 5
I stood before an advertisement at a bus stop. The ad kept changing, but it was for a TV program on the UFO conspiracy. The background was roiling red, like flames of an explosion.
Then there was white lettering and a black and white photo of a thin, tiny-spectacled, bald man with a mustache. The writing kept changing, but at one point it said something to the effect that in 1952 UFOs could have been shown as a truth once and for all to the public had the military allowed (Gregory Kosch???), the man in the photo, to present his evidence.
I thought, Well, this should prove to my psychiatrist A once and for all that these things are real.
(6/2/07) jets, papers, and UFOs
Dream 1
I stood out on a field like a high school football field. It was night. The field lights were turned on. I watched as in the distance to my left five jets flew over the building tops. The jets got closer at some point. I had some revelation about myself connected with the jets.
I stood in a room. It was day. Plenty of natural light came in through the windows. The room was smallish and slightly messy. Another guy stood in the room. He was fat, with a big, grey beard and long hair.
The man fumbled through some papers I had brought with me. I believe the papers were typescript with a lot of red pen marking. They were about UFOs, and how I was related to them somehow. The man hadn't believed me at first. But now that he had read these papers he believed me. I had been afraid that he would take my books and papers. But now he was putting them all in my backpack. There were a lot of fat books in my backpack.
I was getting ready to leave. There were two more fat books, about the thickness of a "pocket dictionary," lying on the floor. The man asked me, "Would you like me to keep those two?" I said yes. I didn't have enough space in my backpack for them.
I stood out on a field like a high school football field. It was night. The field lights were turned on. I watched as in the distance to my left five jets flew over the building tops. The jets got closer at some point. I had some revelation about myself connected with the jets.
I stood in a room. It was day. Plenty of natural light came in through the windows. The room was smallish and slightly messy. Another guy stood in the room. He was fat, with a big, grey beard and long hair.
The man fumbled through some papers I had brought with me. I believe the papers were typescript with a lot of red pen marking. They were about UFOs, and how I was related to them somehow. The man hadn't believed me at first. But now that he had read these papers he believed me. I had been afraid that he would take my books and papers. But now he was putting them all in my backpack. There were a lot of fat books in my backpack.
I was getting ready to leave. There were two more fat books, about the thickness of a "pocket dictionary," lying on the floor. The man asked me, "Would you like me to keep those two?" I said yes. I didn't have enough space in my backpack for them.
(6/16/07) i knew the person knocking was my brother
Dream 1
I stood by a car in the snow. It was a bright, clear day. The car looked like a Chevy Nova (?). It was bright orange and yellow. It was covered in snow. I had to uncover it and drive it somewhere.
I was driving in the dark. I parked the car and went into a house. The neighborhood was like the one I lived in in my last years at home before college. But the inside of the house was like the house I'd lived in in my middle school years. It was empty and spacious, grey and dim.
I wandered in the living room and some joining room until a knock on the door startled me. I ran to the door. I looked through the peephole. A white cop was coming down the walk. I ran to a bedroom, the room farthest from the door, to keep away from his frightening knock.
I lay stomach down on the floor on the left side of the bed, my head to the head of the bed. The wall to my right had a window.
I was laying on the bed. It was daytime. I lay on my back on the right side of the bed. My head was to the foot of the bed. I was reading a book, which may have been propped up on my crossed knees. The sun was very nice coming in through the window.
Suddenly I heard a knock on the door. I torqued and bolted out of the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. I knew the person knocking was my brother.
I stood by a car in the snow. It was a bright, clear day. The car looked like a Chevy Nova (?). It was bright orange and yellow. It was covered in snow. I had to uncover it and drive it somewhere.
I was driving in the dark. I parked the car and went into a house. The neighborhood was like the one I lived in in my last years at home before college. But the inside of the house was like the house I'd lived in in my middle school years. It was empty and spacious, grey and dim.
I wandered in the living room and some joining room until a knock on the door startled me. I ran to the door. I looked through the peephole. A white cop was coming down the walk. I ran to a bedroom, the room farthest from the door, to keep away from his frightening knock.
I lay stomach down on the floor on the left side of the bed, my head to the head of the bed. The wall to my right had a window.
I was laying on the bed. It was daytime. I lay on my back on the right side of the bed. My head was to the foot of the bed. I was reading a book, which may have been propped up on my crossed knees. The sun was very nice coming in through the window.
Suddenly I heard a knock on the door. I torqued and bolted out of the bed and stood at the foot of the bed. I knew the person knocking was my brother.
(6/17/07) don't pay attention to these broken windows; burial at the grocery store; religious office mockery
Dream 1
I walked through an apartment complex with another person, possibly a man. The landing was inside. There were windows on the walls (like there were no apartments on the other sides of the walls). The landing and stairwells were roughly at right angles to one another, generally creating a square, although we seemed to have walked up a couple of side passages that would have altered the square shape.
We went up the floors. Some of the bottoms levels felt darkish, with deep green (?) walls and some kind of clutter, possibly hanging off low ceilings. I noticed some broken windows. I may have figured that we were here to find out why the windows were broken.
As we went up the floors became brighter. There may have been one or two broken windows on each floor, pretty consistent with the lower floors. But on the top floors, which were bright, with pink and red designed carpets, bright walls, and white-gold light pouring in, tons of windows were smashed. Glass was everywhere.
Some of the windows had signs on them, just big sheets of paper strung across them. They were all messages from the people who had broken the windows. One said something like, "Don't pay attention to these broken windows or I'll kill you."
The person with me figured the people who had done this were in the building right now or would come in to attack us. We had to keep going up to confront them.
I was afraid. The people could spring out and attack us at any time. But also the higher we went in the building the steeper and less stable everything seemed. I feel like some of the windows were stained glass.
Dream 2
A movie. A black woman who was part of a group of spies got caught and was being taken to be tortured for answers. But something happened to her: she had either been killed on the way to torture or she had taken a poison pill.
The woman was now being buried. She was very dark. She may have been dressed in tribal fashion as a burial custom. I didn't believe she could be dead. I saw a grave, which may have been an old-looking headstone atop a pile of dry soil in the side yard of a 1970s white-painted brick building. Two men may have been kneeling in front of the headstone. One was hispanic, the other black. Both wore khaki slacks and sleeveless, khaki shirts.
I thought I was seeing the moments before the woman's burial. But seeing the pile of soil, I thought perhaps she had already been buried.
The men were on the enemy's side, but they had sympathized with the woman. They had begun helping her, and now that she had died, they were praying for her. The black man in particular did a ritual movement, joining his hands, bending his arms to make his upper arms level with his shoulders and then unbending his arms straight up.
I stood before the new grocery store's entrance. The building was in a c-shape. Its front was on the inside of the c. The inside of the c faced the beach and was a sandy, hex-brick "courtyard." The building was all white. Its front was window walls which showed a walkway, like the building was a mall and the grocery store only a part of it.
The walls and floors inside were like white tiles. The place was empty. Through the window walls I couldn't see where any stores would be. There might have been a couple stray workers pushing carts around. It was a grey day, possibly about to rain.
I thought, "Besides, this building hasn't taken anything away from the charm of this city. The city's what it's always been."
I saw (as if somehow looking through a window that went straight through the building) the rest of the city. It looked like a roadside town in the mountains of Colorado. There were some fast food joints, gas stations, etc. A lot of cars pulled in and out of everything.
One store in particular I could only see a part of. Its sign was half blocked, and I could only read "kins." At first I thought the building was a Hardee's-style fast-food restaurant. But I moved to my right and saw the whole sign, which said something like "Jenkins." I realized the building was something like a drive-thru or quick-serve place where you could be advised in how to invest in stocks.
Dream 3
I was in an office, which looked more like a house. I took a report into my boss BS's office/bedroom. The report was a two-pager, like what we would submit for the equity research department's monthly valuation report. I threw the report on BS's desk or bed. I walked out.
An interaction that I had with some pretty girl pointed out that I had prefaced the report with a paragraph either of rude remarks made to BS or completely false statements made out of defiance toward BS. I went back into the office/bedroom to change my mistakes, but I saw BS already sitting on his bed. He listened to a radio that sat on his desk.
A person, who I "saw" looked like Ron Jeremy (the porn star), was reading the reports. The words were all vague and "backgroundy," but I could tell he was reading my mistakes. BS just sat there listening like nothing was being said out of the ordinary.
I was in the "living room" again with the girl. It was like I hadn't been in the "office" with BS at all. The girl said, "You're gonna get caught for the things you said to BS." I now realized I had said stuff like, "I hate you," "You're an asshole," etc., all in a short first paragraph.
I didn't care about getting fired for what I'd said. I did care, slightly, about being taunted and teased by BS for what I had said. But most of all, I didn't want BS to feel sad about what I had said. I also didn't want the shame of knowing that I had broken down and said all this.
But suddenly I got mad, furious. I said, "I am mad! BS is an asshole! I fucking hate him! I fucking hate him!"
I started punching walls. I noticed that my punches were very weak. I couldn't punch so that my knuckles would hurt: I couldn't get up the speed. I walked from wall to wall, punching, but always moving slow and soft. Sometimes I didn't even make contact with the wall. I thought, How am I supposed to kick BS's ass with such a weak punch?
I thought to the movie Kill Bill, and how The Bride learned to punch through a 6-inch-thick board. Her knuckles were bloody. But I couldn't even feel the wall. In particular, my left arm barely moved.
I thought I might have a nerve disease. My left arm had almost no coordination. It was like it was getting heavier and heavier, without my being able to feel the weight. I was trying to punch a dresser drawer.
I was out walking with BS, my co-worker ES, and a couple other co-workers at night. We were on a cosmopolitan, clean, well-lit, brick-laid sidewalk. The place felt populated and alive, but I wasn't aware of anybody except us. We were all having a good time.
I thought, How could I have said such mean things about BS? he's such a good guy. I knew BS had read what I had written about him, though he hadn't said anything yet.
We got to some restaurant in the basement of a nice brick building. As we walked down the stairs, BS told me, "You aren't welcome here. The things you said show me you really don't want to be part of our group. Go find somewhere else to eat." I felt ashamed of what I had said, but I didn't feel bad for being shunned from everybody else.
I took a walk by myself through this nice neighborhood. I got to the edge of it and, on the opposite side of a busy but dark street to my right, saw a huge, white house that looked like a church. The windows of the church had weird movements of light behind or within (?) them, like enormous flames (like projected flames) were burning within the church. I stood on the corner.
From down the street, to my left, a fire truck whined and sped up the hill. It apparently went to the church.
I thought, I would have gone into the church to see what was going on. But now I probably won't be allowed. But now I was in the church. To my surprise, it was a Jewish synagogue. I couldn't see where the fiery lights had been coming from.
The lobby was a huge place where kids were putting on a presentation or doing a rehearsal. They were mocking Christianity. The whole thing was very modern, cheerful, like a sitcom, but it also had a weird, archaic, ritual sense to it.
In the actual sanctuary (?) I could see small flames. People in that area, adults, were burning Christmas trees. The trees were burning with the metallic, papery brightness of fireworks.
I walked through an apartment complex with another person, possibly a man. The landing was inside. There were windows on the walls (like there were no apartments on the other sides of the walls). The landing and stairwells were roughly at right angles to one another, generally creating a square, although we seemed to have walked up a couple of side passages that would have altered the square shape.
We went up the floors. Some of the bottoms levels felt darkish, with deep green (?) walls and some kind of clutter, possibly hanging off low ceilings. I noticed some broken windows. I may have figured that we were here to find out why the windows were broken.
As we went up the floors became brighter. There may have been one or two broken windows on each floor, pretty consistent with the lower floors. But on the top floors, which were bright, with pink and red designed carpets, bright walls, and white-gold light pouring in, tons of windows were smashed. Glass was everywhere.
Some of the windows had signs on them, just big sheets of paper strung across them. They were all messages from the people who had broken the windows. One said something like, "Don't pay attention to these broken windows or I'll kill you."
The person with me figured the people who had done this were in the building right now or would come in to attack us. We had to keep going up to confront them.
I was afraid. The people could spring out and attack us at any time. But also the higher we went in the building the steeper and less stable everything seemed. I feel like some of the windows were stained glass.
Dream 2
A movie. A black woman who was part of a group of spies got caught and was being taken to be tortured for answers. But something happened to her: she had either been killed on the way to torture or she had taken a poison pill.
The woman was now being buried. She was very dark. She may have been dressed in tribal fashion as a burial custom. I didn't believe she could be dead. I saw a grave, which may have been an old-looking headstone atop a pile of dry soil in the side yard of a 1970s white-painted brick building. Two men may have been kneeling in front of the headstone. One was hispanic, the other black. Both wore khaki slacks and sleeveless, khaki shirts.
I thought I was seeing the moments before the woman's burial. But seeing the pile of soil, I thought perhaps she had already been buried.
The men were on the enemy's side, but they had sympathized with the woman. They had begun helping her, and now that she had died, they were praying for her. The black man in particular did a ritual movement, joining his hands, bending his arms to make his upper arms level with his shoulders and then unbending his arms straight up.
The two men looked to their left in sudden surprise and then hopped up and backed away to their right. The enemy, two or three of them, were bringing the dead body, which was now, to my disappointment, and confusion, a man.
The two men, who had been praying a blessing on the women (who was apparently now not in the grave) had not wanted to be seen doing good things for the woman (although now she may never have existed?).
I wondered how the enemy men could bury the man in a grave that was already covered. I thought they might magically lower him through the soil. But they opened up the headstone to shove him in there.
The man was now still alive. He was hispanic with blue eyes. He had long hair and a round face. He looked like Eddie Vedder but a little out of shape and soft. His skin was clear but scarred slightly by old acne. He wore a darkish t-shirt.
As the enemy closed the door of the headstone, the man muttered, cowardly, "This is all a joke, guys. Right? Right?" I knew now that the guy had been suffocated in the grave.
The move, as if on TV, went to a commercial which was for the evening news. The anchor said the head story would be about a new grocery store in the area, and how it just illustrated how the city had changed over the years. But I thought, "This is a coastal California town. It's always been busy."
I stood before the new grocery store's entrance. The building was in a c-shape. Its front was on the inside of the c. The inside of the c faced the beach and was a sandy, hex-brick "courtyard." The building was all white. Its front was window walls which showed a walkway, like the building was a mall and the grocery store only a part of it.
The walls and floors inside were like white tiles. The place was empty. Through the window walls I couldn't see where any stores would be. There might have been a couple stray workers pushing carts around. It was a grey day, possibly about to rain.
I thought, "Besides, this building hasn't taken anything away from the charm of this city. The city's what it's always been."
I saw (as if somehow looking through a window that went straight through the building) the rest of the city. It looked like a roadside town in the mountains of Colorado. There were some fast food joints, gas stations, etc. A lot of cars pulled in and out of everything.
One store in particular I could only see a part of. Its sign was half blocked, and I could only read "kins." At first I thought the building was a Hardee's-style fast-food restaurant. But I moved to my right and saw the whole sign, which said something like "Jenkins." I realized the building was something like a drive-thru or quick-serve place where you could be advised in how to invest in stocks.
Dream 3
I was in an office, which looked more like a house. I took a report into my boss BS's office/bedroom. The report was a two-pager, like what we would submit for the equity research department's monthly valuation report. I threw the report on BS's desk or bed. I walked out.
An interaction that I had with some pretty girl pointed out that I had prefaced the report with a paragraph either of rude remarks made to BS or completely false statements made out of defiance toward BS. I went back into the office/bedroom to change my mistakes, but I saw BS already sitting on his bed. He listened to a radio that sat on his desk.
A person, who I "saw" looked like Ron Jeremy (the porn star), was reading the reports. The words were all vague and "backgroundy," but I could tell he was reading my mistakes. BS just sat there listening like nothing was being said out of the ordinary.
I was in the "living room" again with the girl. It was like I hadn't been in the "office" with BS at all. The girl said, "You're gonna get caught for the things you said to BS." I now realized I had said stuff like, "I hate you," "You're an asshole," etc., all in a short first paragraph.
I didn't care about getting fired for what I'd said. I did care, slightly, about being taunted and teased by BS for what I had said. But most of all, I didn't want BS to feel sad about what I had said. I also didn't want the shame of knowing that I had broken down and said all this.
But suddenly I got mad, furious. I said, "I am mad! BS is an asshole! I fucking hate him! I fucking hate him!"
I started punching walls. I noticed that my punches were very weak. I couldn't punch so that my knuckles would hurt: I couldn't get up the speed. I walked from wall to wall, punching, but always moving slow and soft. Sometimes I didn't even make contact with the wall. I thought, How am I supposed to kick BS's ass with such a weak punch?
I thought to the movie Kill Bill, and how The Bride learned to punch through a 6-inch-thick board. Her knuckles were bloody. But I couldn't even feel the wall. In particular, my left arm barely moved.
I thought I might have a nerve disease. My left arm had almost no coordination. It was like it was getting heavier and heavier, without my being able to feel the weight. I was trying to punch a dresser drawer.
I was out walking with BS, my co-worker ES, and a couple other co-workers at night. We were on a cosmopolitan, clean, well-lit, brick-laid sidewalk. The place felt populated and alive, but I wasn't aware of anybody except us. We were all having a good time.
I thought, How could I have said such mean things about BS? he's such a good guy. I knew BS had read what I had written about him, though he hadn't said anything yet.
We got to some restaurant in the basement of a nice brick building. As we walked down the stairs, BS told me, "You aren't welcome here. The things you said show me you really don't want to be part of our group. Go find somewhere else to eat." I felt ashamed of what I had said, but I didn't feel bad for being shunned from everybody else.
I took a walk by myself through this nice neighborhood. I got to the edge of it and, on the opposite side of a busy but dark street to my right, saw a huge, white house that looked like a church. The windows of the church had weird movements of light behind or within (?) them, like enormous flames (like projected flames) were burning within the church. I stood on the corner.
From down the street, to my left, a fire truck whined and sped up the hill. It apparently went to the church.
I thought, I would have gone into the church to see what was going on. But now I probably won't be allowed. But now I was in the church. To my surprise, it was a Jewish synagogue. I couldn't see where the fiery lights had been coming from.
The lobby was a huge place where kids were putting on a presentation or doing a rehearsal. They were mocking Christianity. The whole thing was very modern, cheerful, like a sitcom, but it also had a weird, archaic, ritual sense to it.
In the actual sanctuary (?) I could see small flames. People in that area, adults, were burning Christmas trees. The trees were burning with the metallic, papery brightness of fireworks.
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