(10/12/04) stones and pumpkins; the wrong mexican restaurant

(No time/place info given.)

Dream 1

It was night. I stood on some patio-like, concrete square that was in bad condition at the edge of a backyard. Smallish, weedy vegetation grew all around it. There were electric lights like stadium lights from somewhere.

I stood with my "cousin PS" (who may have looked like Mick Jagger) and "another kid," who looked like Keith Richards. We were trying to write a song. I kept poking "Keith" in the sternum with the fingertips of my right hand.

"Keith" or somebody (we all had guitars and there seemed to be four or five of us) began playing chords to which I thought out, somewhat by trial and error, a riff for a song. All I remember of it now is that it had five notes, which all sounded the same except one that bent upward.

I now stood at the other end of the concrete square, a much more wrecked end. "My cousin PS" was now much more like my cousin PS. He and his friends had a jack-o-lantern, which they were preparing to kick into the next yard. I told them not to, as they might get in trouble. Then I myself (?) did it, watching the pumpkin loose an orange trail after itself as it rose sharply then descended sharply into the other yard. It might possibly have been ready to explode.

Dream 2

Can't remember beginning. Now I, my grandma J, and my brother were at a place that was supposed to be Pancho's Mexican Buffet in Albuquerque. We were all waiting for my grandpa. The fact that he hadn't showed up yet meant he was in physical trouble.

We sat at a table the seating of which was booth-seating on one side and chairs on the other. My grandma sat opposite me, in the booth. My brother sat in the chair to my right. The buffet was off some vague but close distance to my left. We all had somewhat large plates of food. I fumbled around with mine, discovering some rice under an enchilada or tamale.

We spoke vaguely about my grandpa, becoming increasingly worried about him, until he suddenly showed up. And now it was as if he had been there all along, in my grandma's spot, and my grandma in the spot to the left of my grandpa.

We were all drinking beers. My grandpa was trying to tell us of another Mexican restaurant he'd been to in Albuquerque that had better food than this one, but was lit dimly.

My brother said, "Oh, it was Chihuahua's." But my grandpa said no. There was a slight argument and a slight rise in tension, during which time I felt a little sick. Then somehow my grandpa became a lot more conciliatory, though now apparently neither of them knew which restaurant my grandpa was referring to.

(10/15/04) i'm not really your mother

(Dream only entered in daytime paper journals. No time/place info given.)

Dream 1

I was going to a movie with my friend ML. We apparently hadn't decided on a movie yet. The movie theater box office was like a patio covered with saffron, vermilion, and golden sheets and standing thinly at the top of a pinkish tan desert cliff. It was a warm, lightly breezy, dry day. It seems like as well as being outside the theater was inside.

We walked up to the ticket booth. There was a list of three or four movies. I chose one, which it seems like ML wasn't too pleased to see. But he didn't say anything, so I guess we were planning to see it.

But I got a buzz on my cell phone, as if I had a buzzer when the ringer was off. I seem to have walked away, in front of a curving, grayish, wide, concrete building. There were areas for gardens in front of the building, sloping up and down in between sidewalks and concrete dividers. But there was no garden, just flat sections of deep brown, barren, somewhat overturned earth. The area was huge and I walked all around the sidewalks.

I listened to the phone message. My mom sounded very upset. She told me to call her as soon as I could because she finally had to tell me something she should have told me a long time ago. At first I was annoyed that my mom would bother me. But then I figured that she sounded worried.

I called her up. Crying, she told me, "I'm not really your mother. I never wanted to tell you. You were adopted. It was when you were a child. You had been taken away from your real mother."

(At this point I saw a baby in a dark room, very starkly lit in grey, dim daylight from almost nowhere, like this was a dungeon, and with two redneck-looking men somewhere off in the background. The baby seemed to be being dipped into a clay pot like the Egyptian glyph.)

"Something terrible had been done to you. Two men hurt you. They XXXXX. And your mom allowed this to happen. She stood to the side and watched it. But she wasn't to blame. and the men meant no harm. They were just two gay men."

At this point I tried to get information from my mom as to where my biological mom was. I also tried to get information about what had been done to me. But everything my mom said suddenly became jangled and misshapen.

(10/16/04) snakes on my ass; too young for a car

(Dreams entered only in daytime paper journal. No time/place info for entry.)

Dream 1

I was flying through the clouds on a relatively blue day. I may actually have also been in an airplane, just a small one. I did, however, see down through the floor of the plane, which I feel was some kind of shiny, red, thin plane more like a spaceship than a normal airplane.

I thought to myself something like, If I do this to her, it isn't that bad. I must be able to free myself from my guilty feelings.

Suddenly I was no longer in the plane but simply flying through the clouds. At some point I was holding tight to a woman. She could also fly. We barreled through the clouds, rolling tightly, possibly to preserve the flying height and speed.

But now we were beginning to descend. We dropped down toward a sea in a wide, gradual arc that became sharper. At some point we split apart and turned ourselves around so we could land in the sea feet first.

I was afraid that when I landed I would be smashed by the force of the water. But it turned out that when I "hit," simultaneously with the woman, I, as she, softly but rapidly cleared the water as if falling in from a drop of only a few feet.

We now surfaced, some distance away from one floating platform, but possibly also just to the left of another one. On the platform in the distance was a serious-looking, older man in some kind of ceremonial robe. There may have been an actual spaceship (saucer) above and behind him. We could see that he was angry at us. We may possibly have floated toward him slowly.

Now we were in a room, possibly in the spaceship, though it seemed more like a living room. I and the woman sat on the floor. The man, now possibly an older, thinner man, sat on a tall chair over us. I was now much less conscious of the woman, although I knew she was there.

I had some small, thinly constructed, plastic objects in front of me. They were about the size of Monopoly game pieces, but they were like blue and pink, thinly wired baskets. There may also have been some purplish spheres of plastic, a dusky, grayish amethyst color.

I vaguely thought about moving these plastic objects and found that they were moving as I had been vaguely thinking. I now practiced willing them a little more to move. I noticed that I wasn't quite as able to move the objects, though they were still moving.

I now "remembered" (?) having been in a swamp full of snakes, many of which were trying to attack me. I thought now in this room that I figured upon reaching the swamp's pale green, mossy shores that I had escaped all the snakes. But I now felt pain all over my ass. Small, black "snakes" about one and a half inches long and maybe an eighth of an inch wide were attached to me and biting me and sucking my blood. I began picking them off my ass. I knew that their attack had hindered me from continuing my studies of telekinesis.

Dream 2

I was on some kind of fence or some thin platform, holding an aluminum pole and working on some tarp material that served as a ceiling. This wasn't in a parking lot, but some kind of asphalt lot or dirt lot in the middle of the wilderness.

A lot had happened before this. But now I was talking to some fat kid with curly blonde hair. I was telling him, as I worked on the ceiling, about a few different models of cars. They weren't quite cars -- I could see them in my head. But they were something new that everybody wanted, in the same way that people want cars.

I spoke chiefly of the prices. I started with a couple really expensive models. Then I spoke of one model that was almost as good as the other models but was only $1,995 (?).

As I said this I was hammering something through the tarp and into one of the ceiling corner poles. The kid had been on a pole beside me. But now he had hurried off and away from the "tent" to go tell his mom about the good price for this "car." He ran off to some building in the distance. It was a short, tight, dusty, brick building.

I went after the kid, who hadn't exactly run into the building. I thought, I have to stop him. He needs to know he isn't old enough to get these kinds of things yet. He can't ask his mom to give it to him.

Instead of heading to the building, though, I headed toward a cheap, white hatchback about fifty feet from the building. The kid sat in the car, at the driver's seat. Another kid sat beside him. They were both looking at magazines.

The kid told me (though a closed window) that he was waiting in the car for his mother. It wasn't necessarily to ask for a "car."

The hatchback the kid now sat in was something like one of these "cars," as if the kid had had one all along. I now, though, felt like it was certain that the kid's mother would be very judgmental toward me. I was ashamed, but I also wanted to hide the shameful thing I had done, whatever it was. I now somewhat "melded" with the kid, taking a backwards-glancing interest in the magazine a kid was holding, as if that would stop the mother from being disgusted with me.

(10/18/04) white house frames; another place altogether; spilling seed

(Dreams only entered in daytime paper journal. No time/place info given.)

Dream 1

Some white frames for house fronts, all lined up at the top of a hill, fell down forward. I was on a fence, possibly with my friend R's friend KZ. I jumped off the fence and ran to the house fronts, possibly just as they were falling.

Dream 2

I (now) stood outside a building. I looked up to its roof, which was maybe forty feet high, and watched a helicopter descend straight down and out of sight a fraction of a second before it collided with the roof. A bunch of smoke immediately flooded the air.

I rushed into the building. I stood in a dim, long hallway broken at points by adjoining halls or lobby-like areas. Down the hall I saw my friend R, who was in "another place altogether." He had his cell phone. He was trying to reach me by phone to make sure I hadn't been injured in the explosion. I yelled down the hallway to him, even though I may not have been sure that I thought that would work, as R wasn't "actually" in this building. I'm pretty sure R didn't hear me, though he was generally looking in my direction.

Dream 3

Something broke in the window room at R's place. It was like a sleeping back full of grain. It was by the table, as if it had fallen off the table. The room was dark. R and KZ sat at the table, across the table from each other. The room was empty and clean, like my friend CV hadn't been living there.

I felt ashamed of the mess, which was likely my fault. So I lifted as much of it up in the sleeping bag as I could. The rest I figured could mainly be scraped off the floor. But I knew, ashamed, that some of it would not come out at all, as it had soaked (?) into the floor.

(10/19/04) information for the monk

(Dream entered in daytime paper journal only. No time/place info given for entry.)

Dream 1

I was before a door at some nice house with a garden. I had some sheet of paper, some pad of paper, or some small electronic device that stored information. I was here to give up this information to a monk and to become the monk's student.

I knocked on the door and then knelt down with my head all the way to the ground, i.e.

A monk in a yellow (?) robe opened the door. He was kind of surprised because I was so close to the door. I think he had a hard time getting out. I stood up and backed away from the door.

This was the back door, I think. I may have stood by a car. But now I was either by the front door or else another man had come around from the front door. He was like Bill in Kill Bill except he had darker skin and brown hair. He asked me for the information. But I wouldn't give it to him.

Somehow we both were in the house by means of the front door. I don't know why I was there with him. Two black women in dressy casual outfits stood against the wall to my right as I faced the door. The man stood to the left of the door, which was near the right corner.

The concern had possibly strayed from the information. Now the man began insulting the two ladies, implying they were sluts. The girls didn't react too overtly. They kind of just stood there and looked down or over a little. They didn't seem too bothered. But I thought I should stand up for them anyway. The man was trying to dissolve my personal boundaries and prove me a coward. I told him to leave the girls alone.

He came at me with a few fighting moves which I somehow avoided. He said something like, "You're no match for me. Don't give me shit for doing what I want to do."

I yelled something insulting at him. he turned around and said something like "So you need a reason to leave me alone? Here, I'll throw you a few."

He whirled toward me in a smooth fury of spinning kicks and punches. Somehow I defended myself against each blow, deflecting the blows instead of avoiding them. The man stopped, to see if I was afraid yet. I wasn't afraid. I was calmly pleased. But I suddenly became convinced I couldn't do again what I had just done and that I certainly could not throw out my blows myself. I was convinced I would fuck up pretty soon.

(10/21/04) get up, you idiot

(This dream entered only in daytime paper journal. No time/place info for entry.)

One dream vaguely remembered from last night.

Dream 1

Don't remember the beginning or the premise of the beginning.

I was fly-jumping up a hill of dormant, dry, tan, and purplish-pink grass on a grey day, trying to catch up with some man (my friend R?) and an artist woman. I wasn't quite able to fly up the hill as well as I could fly-jump over a flat surface.

I was afraid that I was losing my ability to fly-jump at will. But now -- the landscape changed to something indoors, like a smallish museum or a business or hotel building with a sculpture garden in it -- I was back to jump-flying regularly.

R and this unknown artist lady, who looked like the leonine math teacher in Fellini's Amarcord in a black dress, were now standing somewhere on a second or third level with me. R mentioned sculptures to the art lady as if they were my sculptures.

I don't remember what happened after this. Now I stood by some long, messy table at which R sat, either at the side or at the head. The table was kind of smashed up and covered over with papers, but it at least used to be classy.

We were in a smallish room like an apartment bedroom. It felt a little cold, as opposed to the rest of the "museum hotel," which, though resembling nothing more than a series of tiers and floors of living rooms and living room-like lobbies connected by stairways, like a suburban MC Escher, felt very warm and welcoming throughout.

Both R and I were anticipating the visit of R's girlfriend Y. But once she got there R seemed distant and consumed by whatever work was on the table.

I hung out for a second or two before telling Y she had to come see the sculptures in this place, one in particular, a fountain sculpture of a young girl. The sculptures were now the work of the artist woman.

Y and I walked out into the main area, walking along something like a balcony which overlooked some tiers and stairways. I began fly-jumping again. At first, once again, I didn't quite believe I could do it. But something in me loosened up. Y kept up with me somehow, though she wasn't fly-jumping. In fact, she was impressed by the fact that I could do this.

We came to either a ripped-out, torn-out section in the balcony or else a large, long stairway down and then back up in the middle of the balcony. I thought to myself, This is the big test whether I can really fly-jump. I jumped across the gap, barely making it.

But we weren't finding the sculptures. we weren't heading down onto the first floor (or basement?) even though that's where the sculptures were, because we didn't want to go down until we came right to the sculpture I was looking for.

Sculptures had started filling the lower levels, standing on pedestals, hidden behind strange, carpet-covered walls, standing in the center of hexagonal couch arrangements, guarded round by fences, standing all alone. They were all black, perhaps some kind of lead. They were done in a quaint, lovely early twentieth century style, or actually more like the early style of Rodin. Most of the sculptures were busts, especially busts of men.

At some point we two decided we had to go down to the lower levels to find the sculpture of the girl. We mazed around through there until we finally reached the sculpture (? -- I can't say for sure if we reached it. It may have been that as we searched I was never quite able to envision the sculpture to know exactly what to search for, and then that I at least could envision the sculpture).

But as soon as this happened we two were in some kind of small basement bedroom. At first the warm incandescent light was on. There was a bed against the long wall opposite the closed bedroom door. Over the bed was a window covered by blinds. I don't think there was anything else in the room.

Somehow Y and I were now laying in bed together. We were just friends, and we were just hanging out, talking about something. But I now managed unconsciously to have put my arm around her.

Y laughed at me as we lay there and said something like, "So even you were only pretending not to be sexually attracted to me. It kind of gets troublesome after a while."

Now the lights were out. Y and I were holding hands in some way so that my arm was still under and around her but was bent up at the forearm and perpendicular with her arm, which was also perpendicular.

It seemed to be thundering and raining outside. I cracked open a view between two slats of the blinds. The window was dotted with smattering raindrops. The sky was a streetlamp-orange purple. We were right next to a bridge like the Brooklyn Bridge, except skinnier. It was the middle of the night.

One solitary man walked past the window, saw into the window, and hurried his walk. I knew he was one of R's employees, and that he would now tell R what he had seen. I tried to get Y out of bed. But she kept pulling me back down and laughing, still holding my hand.

Now the lights were back on. There were now two beds in the room -- in an upside-down L shape, or a 7 shape. By the lower bed, which lay at the foot of the bed we had been laying in, was my backpack.

Y rolled out of bed, possibly covered by the blanket. She crawled toward the door, laughing a little. We could hear R laughing bitterly from some distance down what I "saw" as a dark hallway.

I now rolled out of bed. I had all my clothes on, but I also didn't have all my clothes on. I was looking for my clothes. I crawled, dramatically, desperately, yet in slow motion, toward my backpack. I must have stood at one point.

I heard R say something at some point. Y said to me, "Well, he's going to find us. We've been caught in the act."

I now collapsed over my backpack. I was upset of course, that I'd betrayed my friend and was about to hurt his feelings so bad. But I was also afraid, literally weak in the knees, because I knew R could kick my ass.

Y was still chuckling, as if this was all kind of fun and exciting. She told me something like, "Oh, get up. come on. Get up, you idiot."

(10/23/04) panties in my warehouse; the finest stuff on earth

(Entered in paper journal at 5:45 AM at R's house in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

Family visits my warehouse house, try to get into my dresser drawers.

Dream 2

Friend CV visits Snapple, tries to prove bad chemicals like respiratory XXXXX (can no longer read word) in food, deforming children.

***

(Daytime paper journal entry.)

My brain is barely working. I'm hardly interested in this shit anymore. I have to get the remembered dream down.

Dream 1

My mom, Grandma P, sister, and possibly some of my mom's female friends, all come into my room, which was actually an aisle in a wholesale warehouse like Sam's Club. It wasn't bright. In fact, the light seemed far away or only atmospheric, gentle, but not dim. The place was generally brownish, a coppery brown. I feel like the place wasn't packed with tons of aisles, but was well-spaced, slightly empty-feeling. "My" "aisle" was cluttered with tall and short dressers and other unidentified objects.

At some point my family began opening the dresser drawers. I seemed to have panties in every drawer. As soon as my family would slide open a drawer I would rush up and slide it closed, hoping they hadn't seen the underwear.

I remember one pair was green-yellow and yellow hi-cut briefs, sort of sheer. These somehow, as I closed the drawer, got stretched against something like a bedpost or the corner of the drawer. Another pair was purple, satiny, with a rainbow, elastic waistband.

After I had repeatedly closed the drawers my family tried to open, my grandma Pat got irritated. She said, "Obviously he doesn't want to be around us. That's why he isn't letting us look around his room."

I didn't want them to think I didn't like them. But I also didn't want them to see things -- although I knew they obviously already had seen things. So I followed after them as they walked toward the front of the store to leave.

We passed one side display, rather long, with a huge picture book called, I think, Dune II. The picture on the front was of heavily shadowed Egyptian monuments, like the tall, seated statues in front of the large temple for Ramses II (?).

I still hadn't convinced my family I liked being around them.