the vanishing pleasure dome

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was with a group of friends in some place like a theme restaurant mixed with an indoor amusement park. The place was enormous. It was divided into a number of small sections. Each section was like a different theme restaurant or theme area for amusement park rides. The sections were mostly connected by a mall-like hallway, although some of the sections also just blended directly into other sections. A lot of the sections were dark, with little gleams of light, like reflections from a mirror ball, floating around the room.

I had broken off from my friends at some point. We'd all been in a restaurant section. I had stood up and walked away. Now I was trying to get back to them. But nothing around me looked familiar anymore. I didn't know what section my friends were in.

I was in the mall-like hallway section for a moment. I knelt or sat down to tie my shoes. When I stood up, I was even more lost than before.

I wandered through some of the interconnected sections, mainly walking through restaurants that seemed like bars, too -- like a lot of people were drunk and partying, or sitting around in booth seats with drinks and talking really loudly. I kept thinking I had happened upon my group of friends. But I never did, and I only felt more and more lost, like I was constantly working my way away from, instead of toward, my friends.

It now seemed like this place was closing down for the day. The sections were all emptying out. Wait staff, dressed like workers at a movie theater, were coming in and cleaning up the sections. Dim lights had come on in most of the sections.

I walked up to one of the wait staff and asked him where my friends were (as if he'd know who and where my friends were?...). The man seemed to know what section my friends had been in, though he probably wasn't sure they were still there. He pointed off to my right, toward a section of mall-like hallway. One of the other waiters confirmed the directions the first waiter had given.

I was now walking around in the mall-like hallway. But the building seemed to be vanishing with each step I took. I suddenly found myself outside, on a slope of almost barren soil. The building still seemed to be vanishing piece by piece, until it was nothing more than a run-down, dirty-boarded house at the top of the slope. An Hispanic woman stood on the porch of the house.

I looked down at the ground. There was a pair of old, white sneakers. I picked up the sneakers. The house had now also disappeared. The only thing, apparently, that was left from the building was the pair of sneakers. And it was like something, some aspect of the building, had concentrated itself into the sneakers.