Dream 1
I was in some space like a lobby for a hotel or theater, or possibly some fancy, old restaurant where there are various levels separated from each other by a few stairsteps. The atmosphere was calmly bright and active. A lot of people may have been milling about.
I was with my oldest nephew. But he was young, maybe only five or six years old. He was either practicing martial arts or else giving an acting performance about the martial arts. He stood at the top of a staircase, facing away from the steps. A man stood facing my nephew, a couple meters away. The man was probably tall, bald, white, and wiry.
Apparently the story was that the man facing my nephew would come at him. But my nephew would somehow cause the man, who was much bigger than he, to fall down the steps. Possibly this performance had been done before. But my nephew may have been attacked that time, or may simply have managed to make the man fall down the steps. So now my nephew was worried he wouldn't succeed. But I was sure he'd been fine.
I tried to figure in my head how exactly my nephew would get the man thrown down the steps. I thought he might throw the man. But then I realized he might just step out of the way at the right moment and let the man fly down the steps on his own momentum.
Now I was in my nephew's place. But I wasn't my nephew. My nephew was still around. But it was like I stepped in for him, possibly to make sure the man fell down the steps.
The man came at me. I'm honestly not sure what happened next. I may have caught the man and used his momentum to throw him. Or I may have just let him fall.
But whatever I did, the man flew up in the air, like he'd been thrown. He flipped over, so that his head was pointed straight down. Then he descended straight down, either onto the floor or onto the last step before the floor. He landed on his head. He bounced, then landed on his back a few meters away. I knew the man had likely broken his neck. I wasn't sure I'd meant things to end like that.
I ran down the steps to meet the man. He was surrounded by a bunch of people now. His feet may have been at the very edge of a platform for a train, like a train was pulling up directly into this restaurant- or hotel-like area.
I looked at the man. I may have held his head in my hands. The man looked up through woozy, slitted eyes. I could tell the man was either paralyzed or at the brink of death.
I was now in some dark area that was like an indoor area of a hotel, with a lot of elevated planters filled with plants and some separated, gazebo like areas that people could sit in. The area was mostly dark. But lights shone on some of the structures, possibly because people were using those structures at the moment.
I was carrying something that was supposed to be work-related papers. But it was actually a woman's blouse, or some kind of top. It was a dull blue, possibly with paisley designs on it. It was probably sleeveless. It had a satiny feel. And it may have been stained with something like chocolate.
I walked up to two old coworkers from a job I left in March. One was one of the tech leads: an older, white woman, overweight, her face a little worn out, with darkish blonde hair. The other was the head of sales: a bald, white man about my height, but wider and more muscular.
I may have realized at this point that my "work papers" were a sales pitch. I may have come down to this area to practice my sales pitch. I'd run into the tech woman and sales guy by accident. This was inconvenient. I didn't want them to start paying attention to me and stop me from taking care of my task.
But I may also have had to take care of some other task with the tech woman and sales guy. So I may have thought I'd just take care of it now, while they were in front of me. As I approached them, possibly to present my "work papers," I had an edge of the blouse crammed in my mouth, and I was sucking and slobbering on it.
The tech woman may have taken some actual papers from me. Or she may have acknowledged that I'd brought the papers. But she sort of made it clear that she didn't really want to talk to me. And as soon as she could, she started hurrying away, possibly saying something to shove me off onto the sales guy.
But the sales guy didn't want to talk to me, either. He noticed that I had my "work papers" in my hands. He remembered that I was studying a sales pitch. He may have said at some point (i.e. before the dream) that he'd help me study the pitch. But he hadn't really wanted to, and I hadn't really wanted him to.
The sales guy apologized to me for not having helped me learn my pitch. I possibly didn't say anything in return, not wanting the guy to gauge any of my reactions in a way that would make him want to help me.
But then the sales guy may have asked me for my "work papers." I didn't want to give them to him -- possibly because I didn't want him to take away the sales pitch before I learned it (he'd probably wanted to stop me from learning it); but also because I really did know that I was just holding a slobbery, chocolate-stained blouse in my hands, and I didn't want the sales guy to notice this. So I didn't know what I should do.
Showing posts with label neglect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label neglect. Show all posts
Saturday, June 2, 2018
Saturday, February 9, 2013
skydiving contract; a bathroom of one's own; neglected nephew
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was among a small series of rooms with a few other people. The rooms were brick walled, kind of half-finished looking. There were some occasional incandescent bulbs lighting the rooms. The furniture was maybe just benches jutting out from the walls.
There were two women sitting on the benches along the back wall of the back room. They were getting ready for some kind of stunt, which was probably also part of an art project. They were just about ready to head off.
But a third woman off to my left stopped the women. She said the stunt the women were about to do was very dangerous. Before the women did the stunt, the woman needed to make sure the women had signed the contracts waiving any liability the third woman's organization might have.
The women, I now knew, were actually wearing their contracts. The contracts were a kind of netted bodysuit. The netting was made of a coarse, yarn-like material colored a dark red-pink. The netting made diamond patterns, the holes of which were rather wide. But the material squeezed tightly against the women's bodies. I think the women were wearing other clothing, though not much, below the netting outfits.
The contracts, I knew, would be visible when the outfits were taken off and unfurled. Between some of the holes in the netting ran some gauzy billows of material. These billows just looked like fraying or tattered material. But when the contract was laid out flat and arranged correctly, the billows took on the appearance of sheets with letters. The signature line of the contract was near the collar of these outfits.
The third woman asked the woman on the right whether she had signed her contract. Apparently the woman on the left had definitely signed her contract. I had a feeling that the woman on the right hadn't signed her contract. I was a friend to the two women. But for some reason I felt obliged to tell the third woman that the signature line better be checked for the woman on the right. The woman on the right was angry at me. She felt betrayed.
But now both of the women were heading off to do their stunt. The stunt was probably skydiving. I went outside to watch the stunt. The sky was a kind of dim, pale blue fading into dark grey near the top, but a pale, lightless yellow at the horizon. It almost looked like a stage sky. There were some trailer-like buildings maybe twenty or thirty meters away from me. There were people scattered all about, looking up into the sky.
It now seemed like the stunt was a skydiving race. There may have been three women in the race. One of them, possibly the woman who had previously been the woman I'd "betrayed," was my co-worker SC. Another one of them may possibly have been my co-worker AW. The racers had their parachutes open and were somehow racing to see who could reach the ground first. I was cheering for SC. I felt like I looked up to SC, like I was a young girl and that SC was my lover.
At least one of the parachutists, maybe SC, was now close to the ground. My view of her/them was obscured by the trailers and the people around me, who all felt a lot taller than I. I couldn't tell who was winning or who had won the race. I was hoping SC had won. But I also didn't know whether SC's landing had been safe. I was hoping SC hadn't been injured.
Off in the distance to my left, I could see one of the women, perhaps AW, landing. It seemed like she'd had a hard landing. She had, it now seemed to me, been the third woman in the room, the one who'd asked whether the women's contracts had been signed.
The third woman, I now knew, had been so concerned about the safety of this jump. But I myself (probably as myself and not as the "young girl") had convinced the woman of the safety of the jump, and that she herself was fine to jump. But now, watching the third woman, I could see that her landing was actually really hard. I was pretty sure the landing gave the woman physical pain. I also feared that the woman had sustained some sort of injury. Now she'd blame me for the whole thing.
I looked back forward, to where I assumed SC would be landing. The space was clear, and I could see all the way to the barren, flat, stage-like horizon. But there was now sign of the parachutists. There were instead two strange devices, like giant spotlights, sending something, maybe beams of light, maybe parachutes, up into the air.
I now understood that these devices were part of a show, like a live-action version of an anime. The parachute/skydiving race was a stunt, a contest, on its own. But it was somehow integrated into this anime. There were probably a number of races. Before and between the races, the anime show took place. The show may have justified sending the racers up into the sky. But the racers in the show may have been sent up into the sky not by a plane or any other vehicle, but by their parachutes and the spotlight-like devices.
This didn't quite make sense to me. But I was kind of eager to see the anime show. I wondered what the drama would be about.
Dream #2
I was in a public restroom. Something had gotten me offended. I felt like there had been a huge crowd of people, all trying to stop me from using the restroom -- even though I didn't actually ever see anybody in the restroom.
I was in a narrow hallway, like a hallway between one section of the bathroom and another, standing (all by myself?) as if I were standing in line. Suddenly I got so frustrated by the feeling of being crowded out and having my position in the bathroom line threatened that I began walking quickly through the hallway, all the way to the end of the hallway.
I may have heard or imagined people talking about me -- or I may have simply been thinking about myself. The statements I heard or imagined were like a questioning: why I'd run off and acted so rudely toward everybody else, as if I had been suspicious of everybody else for no reason, or as if I'd thought I was better than everybody else.
I now felt kind of silly for having run off. But I was already on my way. I was looking for a toilet that nobody else would try to take from me. I ended up in front of four toilet stalls. I turned left in front of the stalls. On the wall across from the stalls there was a half-opened door. The door opened to a small room with two or three more stalls in it. I walked into the room and toward the first or second stall in the room.
But I again felt rushed or crowded out by someone -- someone I couldn't see! I quickly exited the stall and moved to the very back stall of this room. I stood in front of the toilet and began urinating into the toilet.
Dream #3
I was probably outside in a suburban neighborhood with my family. We may all have been lounging around in the middle of the street (???). We were probably at the corner of the street. The building at the corner may have been a single-family house. But it may also have been an apartment complex or some kind of office building that I'd taken as being a house.
My youngest nephew sat on the curb, playing around with something. I knelt beside him. He asked me something like, "Are you mad at me?" I told him I wasn't mad at him. He said something like, "I thought you were mad at me, because you never come to see us anymore."
I felt really bad. I may have hugged my nephew or patted him on the back. We were now in front of the house, maybe right before a screen door or in the threshold of the doorway. I explained to my nephew that the fact that I didn't visit the family's house very often didn't have anything to do with him. I tried to tell my nephew that I really loved him and thought he was a good little boy.
Beyond the doorway, in the kitchen?, there was now a lot of activity. My brother-in-law was in the kitchen, and a few little children were running around, creating a little sense of chaos. I felt like my brother-in-law was regarding me suspiciously. I didn't know why. But I felt like I should back away from my nephew.
I was now "somewhere else," talking with my brother-in-law on my cell phone. But my view was "in my family's living room" looking at some vague activity, which may have been like the phantom motions of people, of members in my family.
My brother-in-law was explaining how my youngest nephew had begun to act strangely. He was doing things like wearing a dunce cap and beating himself on the head. He was constantly criticizing himself and others in the family, being extremely severe with them morally. He was blaming everybody, including himself, by turns, for my not coming to the family's house as often as I used to.
My brother-in-law was probably telling me all this stuff to get my opinion on whether my nephew was going crazy. But it also seemed like he was blaming me for my nephew acting this way, like I'd done something bad to him -- not neglectful, but actively bad -- to make him go crazy.
I was trying to convince myself that my nephew wasn't acting strangely, that he wasn't going crazy. I also felt like I had done something bad to my nephew: not that I had done something actively bad to him, but that I had emotionally been neglectful of him. But I was trying to convince myself, again, that that really had no effect on my nephew, and that my nephew was fine.
Dream #1
I was among a small series of rooms with a few other people. The rooms were brick walled, kind of half-finished looking. There were some occasional incandescent bulbs lighting the rooms. The furniture was maybe just benches jutting out from the walls.
There were two women sitting on the benches along the back wall of the back room. They were getting ready for some kind of stunt, which was probably also part of an art project. They were just about ready to head off.
But a third woman off to my left stopped the women. She said the stunt the women were about to do was very dangerous. Before the women did the stunt, the woman needed to make sure the women had signed the contracts waiving any liability the third woman's organization might have.
The women, I now knew, were actually wearing their contracts. The contracts were a kind of netted bodysuit. The netting was made of a coarse, yarn-like material colored a dark red-pink. The netting made diamond patterns, the holes of which were rather wide. But the material squeezed tightly against the women's bodies. I think the women were wearing other clothing, though not much, below the netting outfits.
The contracts, I knew, would be visible when the outfits were taken off and unfurled. Between some of the holes in the netting ran some gauzy billows of material. These billows just looked like fraying or tattered material. But when the contract was laid out flat and arranged correctly, the billows took on the appearance of sheets with letters. The signature line of the contract was near the collar of these outfits.
The third woman asked the woman on the right whether she had signed her contract. Apparently the woman on the left had definitely signed her contract. I had a feeling that the woman on the right hadn't signed her contract. I was a friend to the two women. But for some reason I felt obliged to tell the third woman that the signature line better be checked for the woman on the right. The woman on the right was angry at me. She felt betrayed.
But now both of the women were heading off to do their stunt. The stunt was probably skydiving. I went outside to watch the stunt. The sky was a kind of dim, pale blue fading into dark grey near the top, but a pale, lightless yellow at the horizon. It almost looked like a stage sky. There were some trailer-like buildings maybe twenty or thirty meters away from me. There were people scattered all about, looking up into the sky.
It now seemed like the stunt was a skydiving race. There may have been three women in the race. One of them, possibly the woman who had previously been the woman I'd "betrayed," was my co-worker SC. Another one of them may possibly have been my co-worker AW. The racers had their parachutes open and were somehow racing to see who could reach the ground first. I was cheering for SC. I felt like I looked up to SC, like I was a young girl and that SC was my lover.
At least one of the parachutists, maybe SC, was now close to the ground. My view of her/them was obscured by the trailers and the people around me, who all felt a lot taller than I. I couldn't tell who was winning or who had won the race. I was hoping SC had won. But I also didn't know whether SC's landing had been safe. I was hoping SC hadn't been injured.
Off in the distance to my left, I could see one of the women, perhaps AW, landing. It seemed like she'd had a hard landing. She had, it now seemed to me, been the third woman in the room, the one who'd asked whether the women's contracts had been signed.
The third woman, I now knew, had been so concerned about the safety of this jump. But I myself (probably as myself and not as the "young girl") had convinced the woman of the safety of the jump, and that she herself was fine to jump. But now, watching the third woman, I could see that her landing was actually really hard. I was pretty sure the landing gave the woman physical pain. I also feared that the woman had sustained some sort of injury. Now she'd blame me for the whole thing.
I looked back forward, to where I assumed SC would be landing. The space was clear, and I could see all the way to the barren, flat, stage-like horizon. But there was now sign of the parachutists. There were instead two strange devices, like giant spotlights, sending something, maybe beams of light, maybe parachutes, up into the air.
I now understood that these devices were part of a show, like a live-action version of an anime. The parachute/skydiving race was a stunt, a contest, on its own. But it was somehow integrated into this anime. There were probably a number of races. Before and between the races, the anime show took place. The show may have justified sending the racers up into the sky. But the racers in the show may have been sent up into the sky not by a plane or any other vehicle, but by their parachutes and the spotlight-like devices.
This didn't quite make sense to me. But I was kind of eager to see the anime show. I wondered what the drama would be about.
Dream #2
I was in a public restroom. Something had gotten me offended. I felt like there had been a huge crowd of people, all trying to stop me from using the restroom -- even though I didn't actually ever see anybody in the restroom.
I was in a narrow hallway, like a hallway between one section of the bathroom and another, standing (all by myself?) as if I were standing in line. Suddenly I got so frustrated by the feeling of being crowded out and having my position in the bathroom line threatened that I began walking quickly through the hallway, all the way to the end of the hallway.
I may have heard or imagined people talking about me -- or I may have simply been thinking about myself. The statements I heard or imagined were like a questioning: why I'd run off and acted so rudely toward everybody else, as if I had been suspicious of everybody else for no reason, or as if I'd thought I was better than everybody else.
I now felt kind of silly for having run off. But I was already on my way. I was looking for a toilet that nobody else would try to take from me. I ended up in front of four toilet stalls. I turned left in front of the stalls. On the wall across from the stalls there was a half-opened door. The door opened to a small room with two or three more stalls in it. I walked into the room and toward the first or second stall in the room.
But I again felt rushed or crowded out by someone -- someone I couldn't see! I quickly exited the stall and moved to the very back stall of this room. I stood in front of the toilet and began urinating into the toilet.
Dream #3
I was probably outside in a suburban neighborhood with my family. We may all have been lounging around in the middle of the street (???). We were probably at the corner of the street. The building at the corner may have been a single-family house. But it may also have been an apartment complex or some kind of office building that I'd taken as being a house.
My youngest nephew sat on the curb, playing around with something. I knelt beside him. He asked me something like, "Are you mad at me?" I told him I wasn't mad at him. He said something like, "I thought you were mad at me, because you never come to see us anymore."
I felt really bad. I may have hugged my nephew or patted him on the back. We were now in front of the house, maybe right before a screen door or in the threshold of the doorway. I explained to my nephew that the fact that I didn't visit the family's house very often didn't have anything to do with him. I tried to tell my nephew that I really loved him and thought he was a good little boy.
Beyond the doorway, in the kitchen?, there was now a lot of activity. My brother-in-law was in the kitchen, and a few little children were running around, creating a little sense of chaos. I felt like my brother-in-law was regarding me suspiciously. I didn't know why. But I felt like I should back away from my nephew.
I was now "somewhere else," talking with my brother-in-law on my cell phone. But my view was "in my family's living room" looking at some vague activity, which may have been like the phantom motions of people, of members in my family.
My brother-in-law was explaining how my youngest nephew had begun to act strangely. He was doing things like wearing a dunce cap and beating himself on the head. He was constantly criticizing himself and others in the family, being extremely severe with them morally. He was blaming everybody, including himself, by turns, for my not coming to the family's house as often as I used to.
My brother-in-law was probably telling me all this stuff to get my opinion on whether my nephew was going crazy. But it also seemed like he was blaming me for my nephew acting this way, like I'd done something bad to him -- not neglectful, but actively bad -- to make him go crazy.
I was trying to convince myself that my nephew wasn't acting strangely, that he wasn't going crazy. I also felt like I had done something bad to my nephew: not that I had done something actively bad to him, but that I had emotionally been neglectful of him. But I was trying to convince myself, again, that that really had no effect on my nephew, and that my nephew was fine.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
michael jackson museum; the kitchen of lesbian monsters; emails at jack in the box
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was looking at a wide, thick picture book full of black and white photos. It was like an illustrated history of Michael Jackson's musical career, with a focus on a very specific time period, maybe like from the late 1980s forward.
But the book was also about the creation of a Michael Jackson Museum somewhere. Some of the photos showed columns and long, narrow corridors, all kind of futuristic looking, but also with a plainness that made the spaces feel very much like contemporary rooms in a museum. There seemed to be silver tinsel everywhere.
But I'd also have flashes of views where I'd suddenly be inside the Michael Jackson Museum. My vision would be really blurry. There were a lot of green spotlights lighting everything up. There were a lot of people around. Sometimes I'd be led down certain areas of the museum. I think Michael Jackson himself was leading me. Then my view would suddenly switch back to just looking at the book.
Dream #2
There was some weird battle going on between two sets of women. All the women were really gorgeous, kind of pale, thin, goth-looking girls. But one half of the girls were normal humans, while the other half had been transformed into vampire- or zombie-like monsters. The regular women were making their final battle against the monster women in a long, narrow room, like a kitchen.
The battle may now have been over. The monster women were sitting all in a line on a fake-leather bench that ran across the left (my left) long wall. The normal women were all working on the monster women. The monster women all seemed to be injured pretty badly, mainly in the chest.
The normal women were all set to work on pulling something out of the monster women's chests. In two cases (I think) I saw the object being pulled out. One of the women had a screw or bolt in her chest, while the other woman had a nail in her chest. But these objects were both cursed objects that had made the women into monsters.
The second normal woman took the nail she had just pulled from the woman's chest and walked over to the sink, which was in the counter that ran all the way along the right wall. She did something with the nail. The monster woman was now a normal woman, and her chest, which had been all caved in and bloody before, was now completely healed, except for a hole in the center of her chest, just above her breasts.
The normal woman may have handed the nail back to the woman. Either way, the woman had a nail in her hand again. The nail was "clean," not cursed. But the woman shoved it right into the hole in her chest. I was kind of shocked that the woman would purposely drive a nail into her chest. I asked her, "Do you like that sort of thing?"
The woman replied, "Yes. Does that scare you? And does it scare you that she" (the normal woman who'd healed her) "is my lesbian lover, and that she likes driving nails into my chest, too?"
I didn't mind. But I felt ashamed for hanging around here. I now realized that all the monster women were all lesbian lovers with the normal women who'd healed them. I didn't want to look like I'd been here because I'd been attracted to all these girls -- even though I had been attracted to them all.
As I was backing up, I saw the first monster girl. She was also healed, even though her chest may still have looked bloody and collapsed. She had a "clean" bolt, which she was now getting ready to shove into her chest.
I walked around a kind of hairpin curve and found myself in a space like a dining room. It was a lot lighter than the other room had been. There was a booth-like table in the right corner of the wall facing me. The bench of the booth was made of white or cream-colored fake leather and went around the table in an almost full square shape. There was also a bright window along the back wall.
The right wall was more like a half wall. It showed into the next room, where a woman sat all by herself. The woman was Asian, and she may have looked like my ex-girlfriend H. I tried not to look at the woman. I assumed that she, like all the other women in this house, was a lesbian. I'd already been ridiculed a bit for having been attracted to girls who were gay. I didn't want to get ridiculed again.
There was a bunch of stuff on the dining table, which may have been below the height of my knee, something like a coffee table's height. I picked up some of the stuff and carried it to the wall behind me. The stuff may have been empty and dirty dishes. I may have been carrying them to a sink to clean them.
Dream #3
It was night. I was sitting at an outdoor table in front of a Jack in the Box restaurant with my mom's best friend. We were eating some kind of sandwiches that had ham and eggs. We may have been talking about old times for a moment or two. But then I got distracted by a message on my cell phone.
There was a whole string of messages that came from Riley Kilo, an adult baby transgendered person who has been an advocate for adult babies in a number of different media arenas. Apparently Riley Kilo and I were kind of like friends. But there was something not quite right about our relationship, like I was always doing something to upset or frustrate Riley and make her feel like she was never getting through to me.
But now Riley was coming to Denver. She'd made this announcement on her blog and in a number of different places, hoping I'd catch on. She'd even sent me this whole string of emails directly. But I hadn't seen or responded to any of them. Finally, she'd sent me an email saying that she was coming to Denver and that she was going to come to my apartment, whether I liked it or not, on the assumption that she was staying there. Once she got there, if I still didn't want her around, I could just kick her out.
I may have thought that I'd respond to this message by saying, "Okay." But I don't think I responded. I think I just sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what the heck I should do.
I suddenly realized that I'd been sitting in absolute silence with my mom's best friend for a good amount of time now. I thought I'd been making progress during our conversation, up until I'd looked at my phone, with letting my mom's friend understand how much I liked her and appreciated her. But now that it had been silent for so long, I think my mom's friend was wondering whether I actually liked her.
So now I asked my mom's friend, "Do you remember before Jack in the Box made its big change, and when I was a little kid, how you and my mom and I would come here all the time? We'd have breakfast sandwiches." My mom's friend remembered this. But something about her memory seemed to come from a different time period than I was talking about. I got distracted again, trying to figure out how to describe the time period exactly right, so my mom's friend would know exactly what I was talking about.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #2, July 30, 2012, 2:16 PM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
I was looking at a wide, thick picture book full of black and white photos. It was like an illustrated history of Michael Jackson's musical career, with a focus on a very specific time period, maybe like from the late 1980s forward.
But the book was also about the creation of a Michael Jackson Museum somewhere. Some of the photos showed columns and long, narrow corridors, all kind of futuristic looking, but also with a plainness that made the spaces feel very much like contemporary rooms in a museum. There seemed to be silver tinsel everywhere.
But I'd also have flashes of views where I'd suddenly be inside the Michael Jackson Museum. My vision would be really blurry. There were a lot of green spotlights lighting everything up. There were a lot of people around. Sometimes I'd be led down certain areas of the museum. I think Michael Jackson himself was leading me. Then my view would suddenly switch back to just looking at the book.
Dream #2
There was some weird battle going on between two sets of women. All the women were really gorgeous, kind of pale, thin, goth-looking girls. But one half of the girls were normal humans, while the other half had been transformed into vampire- or zombie-like monsters. The regular women were making their final battle against the monster women in a long, narrow room, like a kitchen.
The battle may now have been over. The monster women were sitting all in a line on a fake-leather bench that ran across the left (my left) long wall. The normal women were all working on the monster women. The monster women all seemed to be injured pretty badly, mainly in the chest.
The normal women were all set to work on pulling something out of the monster women's chests. In two cases (I think) I saw the object being pulled out. One of the women had a screw or bolt in her chest, while the other woman had a nail in her chest. But these objects were both cursed objects that had made the women into monsters.
The second normal woman took the nail she had just pulled from the woman's chest and walked over to the sink, which was in the counter that ran all the way along the right wall. She did something with the nail. The monster woman was now a normal woman, and her chest, which had been all caved in and bloody before, was now completely healed, except for a hole in the center of her chest, just above her breasts.
The normal woman may have handed the nail back to the woman. Either way, the woman had a nail in her hand again. The nail was "clean," not cursed. But the woman shoved it right into the hole in her chest. I was kind of shocked that the woman would purposely drive a nail into her chest. I asked her, "Do you like that sort of thing?"
The woman replied, "Yes. Does that scare you? And does it scare you that she" (the normal woman who'd healed her) "is my lesbian lover, and that she likes driving nails into my chest, too?"
I didn't mind. But I felt ashamed for hanging around here. I now realized that all the monster women were all lesbian lovers with the normal women who'd healed them. I didn't want to look like I'd been here because I'd been attracted to all these girls -- even though I had been attracted to them all.
As I was backing up, I saw the first monster girl. She was also healed, even though her chest may still have looked bloody and collapsed. She had a "clean" bolt, which she was now getting ready to shove into her chest.
I walked around a kind of hairpin curve and found myself in a space like a dining room. It was a lot lighter than the other room had been. There was a booth-like table in the right corner of the wall facing me. The bench of the booth was made of white or cream-colored fake leather and went around the table in an almost full square shape. There was also a bright window along the back wall.
The right wall was more like a half wall. It showed into the next room, where a woman sat all by herself. The woman was Asian, and she may have looked like my ex-girlfriend H. I tried not to look at the woman. I assumed that she, like all the other women in this house, was a lesbian. I'd already been ridiculed a bit for having been attracted to girls who were gay. I didn't want to get ridiculed again.
There was a bunch of stuff on the dining table, which may have been below the height of my knee, something like a coffee table's height. I picked up some of the stuff and carried it to the wall behind me. The stuff may have been empty and dirty dishes. I may have been carrying them to a sink to clean them.
Dream #3
It was night. I was sitting at an outdoor table in front of a Jack in the Box restaurant with my mom's best friend. We were eating some kind of sandwiches that had ham and eggs. We may have been talking about old times for a moment or two. But then I got distracted by a message on my cell phone.
There was a whole string of messages that came from Riley Kilo, an adult baby transgendered person who has been an advocate for adult babies in a number of different media arenas. Apparently Riley Kilo and I were kind of like friends. But there was something not quite right about our relationship, like I was always doing something to upset or frustrate Riley and make her feel like she was never getting through to me.
But now Riley was coming to Denver. She'd made this announcement on her blog and in a number of different places, hoping I'd catch on. She'd even sent me this whole string of emails directly. But I hadn't seen or responded to any of them. Finally, she'd sent me an email saying that she was coming to Denver and that she was going to come to my apartment, whether I liked it or not, on the assumption that she was staying there. Once she got there, if I still didn't want her around, I could just kick her out.
I may have thought that I'd respond to this message by saying, "Okay." But I don't think I responded. I think I just sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what the heck I should do.
I suddenly realized that I'd been sitting in absolute silence with my mom's best friend for a good amount of time now. I thought I'd been making progress during our conversation, up until I'd looked at my phone, with letting my mom's friend understand how much I liked her and appreciated her. But now that it had been silent for so long, I think my mom's friend was wondering whether I actually liked her.
So now I asked my mom's friend, "Do you remember before Jack in the Box made its big change, and when I was a little kid, how you and my mom and I would come here all the time? We'd have breakfast sandwiches." My mom's friend remembered this. But something about her memory seemed to come from a different time period than I was talking about. I got distracted again, trying to figure out how to describe the time period exactly right, so my mom's friend would know exactly what I was talking about.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #2, July 30, 2012, 2:16 PM, Mountain Standard Time.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
handstanding to ft. greene; newspaper water park
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was a bright, warm day. I was in the car with my mom and probably some of my other family members, maybe including my sister. My sister may have looked very young, maybe seven or eight years old. The car seemed pretty full of kids.
I was in the backseat, on the passenger side. My mom was apparently driving me to work. But she had forgotten something at the house. So we needed to go back. I'd definitely be late for work.
I was mad. I thought to myself that I knew I should never have let my mom start taking me to work. I knew that eventually something like this would happen, where I would start getting to work late all the time.
We pulled up into the driveway of "our house" (apparently I was still living with my family, and our house was the house we lived in in Colorado when I was eleven to fifteen years old). My mom said something that made me believe that we were going to be here for a while. But my mom wanted me to sit in the car. I was furious. My mom had already made me late for work. Now she just wanted me to sit in the car for a long time while she was messing around in the house?
I cried, "No!!!" I jumped out of the backseat of the car (which now seemed pretty empty). I was going to make a mad dash away from my mom, and just try to get to work myself.
I started rushing down the road -- by walking on my hands! I rushed down a wide, sun-blazed, suburban road, down a slight slope.
I was then hand-walking down an even wider road. This road may still have felt somewhat suburban, with houses and yards. But there may have been some tall buildings, too.
I knew that some place like Fulton St. in Ft. Greene was just a few blocks away from here. But I suddenly got the feeling that my mom was following me. I thought that once she caught up to me she'd start criticizing me for having gotten mad and left her.
I was trying to think up excuses for having left my mom. But the only thing I could really think of to do was to go to a cafe I used to go to on Atlantic Avenue and order a nice, cold drink. I could see a red-colored drink in a clear-plastic cup, with a lid on it, in my mind's eye.
Dream #2
I was at the side of a building, underneath the shade, it seemed, of some scaffolding. I was actually leaning against some waist-high railing that was part of the railing holding up the high scaffolding.
A small shop, kind of like a take-away burger shop, was set into the wall of the building. A man, maybe an Asian man, was working by himself behind the counter.
I only wanted to buy a newspaper. The man was going off to get it for me. As I waited for the man to come back I stood a couple meters away from the cash register and on the other side of the scaffolding from the shop counter.
A couple walked up from my left and stood in front of the counter. They were an Asian man and woman. The woman looked young. The man looked a little bit older. They both looked well-off, and were dressed in nice summer clothes.
The couple seemed to want to get their orders in and out before I got my order. So they shouted out their order to the man behind the counter, who acknowledged their order. The man came back out front with my newspaper. I was about to walk up to the counter to pay for my paper.
But the woman in the couple now started asking people (apparently a line of people had formed off to my right), "Have you been helped yet? Have you ordered? And you? And you?" It was like she was trying to get everybody else to put in their orders before I could pay, so that somehow I'd be delayed in getting my stuff until after the couple had gotten their stuff.
Finally I just walked forward to hand my money to the man. I laughed at the situation, trying not to sound annoyed, even though I was. I had a dollar in my hand. I was already stretching my hand forward. I was pretty sure that the paper cost a dollar. But I was a little worried that it would cost more than that, and that I'd have to dig around in my pockets for more money.
I was now walking out on a parking lot with my mom and a bunch of kids. The kids were all part of some school group. We were taking the school group out to a water park.
We reached the edge of the parking lot and were now walking up onto a concrete sidewalk leading into the water park. There were a few little girls in my group, all in little bikinis. I crossed in front of one of the little girls.
Dream #1
It was a bright, warm day. I was in the car with my mom and probably some of my other family members, maybe including my sister. My sister may have looked very young, maybe seven or eight years old. The car seemed pretty full of kids.
I was in the backseat, on the passenger side. My mom was apparently driving me to work. But she had forgotten something at the house. So we needed to go back. I'd definitely be late for work.
I was mad. I thought to myself that I knew I should never have let my mom start taking me to work. I knew that eventually something like this would happen, where I would start getting to work late all the time.
We pulled up into the driveway of "our house" (apparently I was still living with my family, and our house was the house we lived in in Colorado when I was eleven to fifteen years old). My mom said something that made me believe that we were going to be here for a while. But my mom wanted me to sit in the car. I was furious. My mom had already made me late for work. Now she just wanted me to sit in the car for a long time while she was messing around in the house?
I cried, "No!!!" I jumped out of the backseat of the car (which now seemed pretty empty). I was going to make a mad dash away from my mom, and just try to get to work myself.
I started rushing down the road -- by walking on my hands! I rushed down a wide, sun-blazed, suburban road, down a slight slope.
I was then hand-walking down an even wider road. This road may still have felt somewhat suburban, with houses and yards. But there may have been some tall buildings, too.
I knew that some place like Fulton St. in Ft. Greene was just a few blocks away from here. But I suddenly got the feeling that my mom was following me. I thought that once she caught up to me she'd start criticizing me for having gotten mad and left her.
I was trying to think up excuses for having left my mom. But the only thing I could really think of to do was to go to a cafe I used to go to on Atlantic Avenue and order a nice, cold drink. I could see a red-colored drink in a clear-plastic cup, with a lid on it, in my mind's eye.
Dream #2
I was at the side of a building, underneath the shade, it seemed, of some scaffolding. I was actually leaning against some waist-high railing that was part of the railing holding up the high scaffolding.
A small shop, kind of like a take-away burger shop, was set into the wall of the building. A man, maybe an Asian man, was working by himself behind the counter.
I only wanted to buy a newspaper. The man was going off to get it for me. As I waited for the man to come back I stood a couple meters away from the cash register and on the other side of the scaffolding from the shop counter.
A couple walked up from my left and stood in front of the counter. They were an Asian man and woman. The woman looked young. The man looked a little bit older. They both looked well-off, and were dressed in nice summer clothes.
The couple seemed to want to get their orders in and out before I got my order. So they shouted out their order to the man behind the counter, who acknowledged their order. The man came back out front with my newspaper. I was about to walk up to the counter to pay for my paper.
But the woman in the couple now started asking people (apparently a line of people had formed off to my right), "Have you been helped yet? Have you ordered? And you? And you?" It was like she was trying to get everybody else to put in their orders before I could pay, so that somehow I'd be delayed in getting my stuff until after the couple had gotten their stuff.
Finally I just walked forward to hand my money to the man. I laughed at the situation, trying not to sound annoyed, even though I was. I had a dollar in my hand. I was already stretching my hand forward. I was pretty sure that the paper cost a dollar. But I was a little worried that it would cost more than that, and that I'd have to dig around in my pockets for more money.
I was now walking out on a parking lot with my mom and a bunch of kids. The kids were all part of some school group. We were taking the school group out to a water park.
We reached the edge of the parking lot and were now walking up onto a concrete sidewalk leading into the water park. There were a few little girls in my group, all in little bikinis. I crossed in front of one of the little girls.
Monday, May 14, 2012
earthquake in philadelphia; can't get served; gold and nature walkways
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
There was an earthquake in Philadelphia. A helicopter was flying over Philadelphia during the daytime, showing views of the earthquake's effects.
But now the roads throughout Philadelphia were starting to collapse. It caugh everybody by surprise. Whole roads would just crumble down into pits. People were driving along some of the roads. When the roads would crumble, the people on the roads could be heard screaming.
At first I may not have been in Philadelphia. But then I may have been. I may have told myself that I needed to get out of Philadelphia.
I was then in some big, public building with a lot of other people. We may not have been in Philadelphia. But we were allpreparing to head away somewhere.
I was walking through a long hallway maybe five meters wide. The hallway had brownish walls, like cinder blocks tiled over with brownish tile, and floors of orangeish carpet. There were big duffel bags, probably everybody's travel bags, running through the center of the hallway.
I was looking for my bags. I found them. I probably had three long, black duffel bags. I noticed that one of my notebooks or videotapes was sitting on top of one of my bags. I knew I hadn't taken anything out of my bags. So someone had gotten into my bags. I opened a bag full of notebooks and put my notebook or videotape back inside. I stood up and walked away.
I was now seeing from the helicopter's view again. The news was reporting that the street collapses in Philadelphia were becoming even worse. We watched as an entire block of one of the main streets in Philadelphia was upended, lifting up and then sliding down into a pit.
I was now in an SUV with a few other people. It may have been late afternoon. The sky was a cool, silvery blue, and we were driving all through shadow. I sat in the front passenger seat. The other people in the car seemed to be young, smart, professional, white males. One of the people in the car may have been one of my old bosses, DO.
We were driving through Philadelphia. The city appeared to be abandoned, empty. One or more of the guys may have been talking about the history of the city, but possibly also about the danger the city was in.
But I now noticed we weren't driving on the roads at all. We were driving over public lawns, through plazas and parking lots, and over the walkways in front of buildings. But we stayed off all the roads.
I may have asked why we were doing this. But then it seemed obvious. I said, "Oh! The roads are all collapsing still. So we're driving on all the other spaces, because none of them has collaps--"
One of the guys interrupted me. "Don't say anything. You don't wanna jinx it."
We continued driving on, past an old, kind of small, but very nice looking public building of grey stone and red brick.
Dream #2
I was in line for something like a coffee shop. The line was more like a cafeteria line, where you move sideways along a counter that can be used for sliding a meal tray along. All I wanted was a cup of coffee.
At the head of the line there was a small window. A man stood at the window to take everybody's orders. The man looked kind of young, but not in good shape. He had a fatty, but scraggly and hungry, kind of look. He had stubble and long hair. He wore a black t-shirt and a white baseball cap, which he had on backwards.
As soon as the man saw me, he told me he wasn't serving anybody else. He was going off shift. So he couldn't serve me. This kind of didn't make sense to me. There were a lot of people in line behind me. How could this guy just go off shift, with nobody around to take his place.
But now the guy addressed the guy directly behind me. He asked, "Can I help you?"
I looked at the worker and said, "You said you couldn't take my order because you were going off shift. Why are you telling this guy you can take his order? All I want is coffee."
The guy just sneered at me. He walked away. He may have told me that I could come back and get my own coffee. I may have walked, or at least looked, behind the counter. The area behind the counter was pretty big and complex. I didn't know whether I could find or fix the coffee.
Dream #3
I was walking through a museum with my old friend H and a man whom I didn't know, but who was probably a friend of ours. H and I decided that we were going somewhere else in the museum. We had to go up a small stairwell to get there. Before we went up the stairwell, the man with us told us goodbye and gave us some advice.
But now I noticed there were two stairwells. The stairwell on the left had a green sign over it saying "Nature Walkway." The stairwell on the right had a red sign saying "Gold Walkway." I knew we had been planning to go outdoors, and that the Nature Walkway was the way outside.
But we hadn't known about the Gold Walkway, which was some kind of exploratory exhibit about gold jewelry. H said, "Gold Walkway," like that was where we now had to go.
I said, "Nature Walkway."
H said, "Gold Walkway," again, quite firmly. I knew I couldn't argue with her. So we took the stairwell up to the Gold Walkway.
Just after the head of the stairwell was a small area kind of like a bookshop. There were just a few small shelves of books, and maybe a couple shelves displaying other sorts of gifts.
Just beyond the bookshop were men's and women's restrooms. H said we should probably go to the restroom before we started the exhibit. The women's restroom was on the left. The men's was on the right. I knew each restroom was single and private, with a locking door.
I told H I'd go to the men's restroom and meet her outside when we were through. But H told me she wanted to go to the men's restroom, too. I assumed this was because she wanted to do something sexual in there with me. I was a little shy at the thought of doing something sexual in a public restroom. But I felt like I should just go with whatever H wanted to do.
But for some reason H and I ended up not going into the same restroom. I finished up in the restroom and waiting for H to come out. I looked through the books in the bookshop. When we'd first come up here, the place had seemed empty. But now there were a few people. I felt shy and uncomfortable.
Now H came out of the restroom. She said something to me like, "Why were you in there for so long? I began to get worried about you. I thought something had happened to you, or that you'd left."
Friday, April 20, 2012
sabbath; netflix; a friend in need is a friend on hold
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in either a bedroom or a bathroom. It was night, and there was incandescent light on in the room. I was standing up near a niche in a wall. I was facing the wall as if I were standing and urinating into a toilet. But I don't think I was really going to the bathroom. On the walls before me and on my right were bookshelves and possibly a couple of small posters. On the wall to my left was a window with its curtains drawn, exposing the black night.
The thought came into my head that I was supposed to be observing the sabbath. I was supposed to be taking a time of rest. It seemed like it was something that had just come up, something like a holiday, but an emergency holiday.
I knew it was probably true that I needed to observe the sabbath -- possibly even for physical reasons. But I didn't really want to. I felt like I had too much to do already. I couldn't take a break now. And others would think I was lazy.
But I now heard a woman's voice, probably the voice of a female preacher, Marilyn Hickey, telling me to observe the sabbath, from today through Tuesday. I knew that this demand was actually written into an old book of teachings, which the preacher had often used as a source for lessons in her own books. It wasn't the Bible, but it was an old book of wisdom. Knowing that the command had come from this book, I understood I probably couldn't argue with it.
Dream #2
I had probably gotten a bag of mail, maybe from my mother. The bag may have been like a small bookbag. I had to shuffle through some of the mail. I may have been looking for something in particular. But, by accident, I found two red mailers for Netflix disks. I had two Netflix CDs I wanted to return, but I hadn't had any mailers to send them in. I was really happy to have these mailers.
Dream #3
I was by myself in a big, nice apartment. I was in some side room that seemed partly like a kitchen and dining room, but that also seemed to edge out into something like a sunroom or a patio. I sat at a smallish, round, wooden dining table, with my chair's back turned to the table, so that I faced out to see the kitchen counters.
The space off to my right was airy and open, like there were a lot of big, wide windows. Off to my left was a doorway that led into a big, open space, like a huge living room. It was probably late afternoon. The sky was dark grey, like it was getting ready to storm.
I was on the phone with one of my old bosses, whom I now think of as a good friend, EB. I was talking to EB about my current job. I told him that I was actually having a lot of fun with the job, and that I found the work really exciting. But, I told him, I wasn't getting enough money to live on. I told him I figured that for the time being I'd be okay. I'd never been too terribly worried about money.
EB told me, "Really? If I had to eat, if I had to have food, I'd do whatever I needed to get it. Having enough money is really important to me." I could tell EB was partly saying this because he admired my ability to do without a lot of money. But I could also tell that he was worried I wasn't doing enough to go for what I needed.
So I told EB, "Well, I've actually been thinking about applying for positions at some funds out here. You know, something like what I was doing before. There are a few good ones out here. I'm wondering if you know anybody you could put in a good word for me for at ----- or -----?" (I named two specific firms.)
EB had managed to put me on hold right as I asked him to help me. I couldn't tell whether he'd done it on accident. But I assumed he had. I thought he'd pull me right back off hold. While I was on hold, I heard a couple of contemporary R&B type songs, which I found really annoying.
I stood up, a little impatient, and walked out toward the sun room-like area. I only walked up to the threshold (? - if there was one) of that area, then turned to my left, turned around, and walked back toward the dining table I'd been sitting at.
For this entire time, I'd been on hold. It now occurred to me that EB had put me on hold on purpose, not by accident. But I still justified his having put me on hold. I told myself that EB had probably suddenly had to take care of some business, so that he'd had to put me on hold suddenly. As soon as his business was taken care of, he'd talk with me again. Then I could ask him for help.
But now, as I approached the table to sit down again, I could start to hear EB's voice. It was less like he had put me on hold and more like he had just sat the phone down near some speaker playing really loud, crappy, contemporary R&B. Now I heard EB talking with some other guy about me, very faintly, in the background. EB was saying something about me that wasn't flattering at all. But I can't remember what it was.
Dream #1
I was in either a bedroom or a bathroom. It was night, and there was incandescent light on in the room. I was standing up near a niche in a wall. I was facing the wall as if I were standing and urinating into a toilet. But I don't think I was really going to the bathroom. On the walls before me and on my right were bookshelves and possibly a couple of small posters. On the wall to my left was a window with its curtains drawn, exposing the black night.
The thought came into my head that I was supposed to be observing the sabbath. I was supposed to be taking a time of rest. It seemed like it was something that had just come up, something like a holiday, but an emergency holiday.
I knew it was probably true that I needed to observe the sabbath -- possibly even for physical reasons. But I didn't really want to. I felt like I had too much to do already. I couldn't take a break now. And others would think I was lazy.
But I now heard a woman's voice, probably the voice of a female preacher, Marilyn Hickey, telling me to observe the sabbath, from today through Tuesday. I knew that this demand was actually written into an old book of teachings, which the preacher had often used as a source for lessons in her own books. It wasn't the Bible, but it was an old book of wisdom. Knowing that the command had come from this book, I understood I probably couldn't argue with it.
Dream #2
I had probably gotten a bag of mail, maybe from my mother. The bag may have been like a small bookbag. I had to shuffle through some of the mail. I may have been looking for something in particular. But, by accident, I found two red mailers for Netflix disks. I had two Netflix CDs I wanted to return, but I hadn't had any mailers to send them in. I was really happy to have these mailers.
Dream #3
I was by myself in a big, nice apartment. I was in some side room that seemed partly like a kitchen and dining room, but that also seemed to edge out into something like a sunroom or a patio. I sat at a smallish, round, wooden dining table, with my chair's back turned to the table, so that I faced out to see the kitchen counters.
The space off to my right was airy and open, like there were a lot of big, wide windows. Off to my left was a doorway that led into a big, open space, like a huge living room. It was probably late afternoon. The sky was dark grey, like it was getting ready to storm.
I was on the phone with one of my old bosses, whom I now think of as a good friend, EB. I was talking to EB about my current job. I told him that I was actually having a lot of fun with the job, and that I found the work really exciting. But, I told him, I wasn't getting enough money to live on. I told him I figured that for the time being I'd be okay. I'd never been too terribly worried about money.
EB told me, "Really? If I had to eat, if I had to have food, I'd do whatever I needed to get it. Having enough money is really important to me." I could tell EB was partly saying this because he admired my ability to do without a lot of money. But I could also tell that he was worried I wasn't doing enough to go for what I needed.
So I told EB, "Well, I've actually been thinking about applying for positions at some funds out here. You know, something like what I was doing before. There are a few good ones out here. I'm wondering if you know anybody you could put in a good word for me for at ----- or -----?" (I named two specific firms.)
EB had managed to put me on hold right as I asked him to help me. I couldn't tell whether he'd done it on accident. But I assumed he had. I thought he'd pull me right back off hold. While I was on hold, I heard a couple of contemporary R&B type songs, which I found really annoying.
I stood up, a little impatient, and walked out toward the sun room-like area. I only walked up to the threshold (? - if there was one) of that area, then turned to my left, turned around, and walked back toward the dining table I'd been sitting at.
For this entire time, I'd been on hold. It now occurred to me that EB had put me on hold on purpose, not by accident. But I still justified his having put me on hold. I told myself that EB had probably suddenly had to take care of some business, so that he'd had to put me on hold suddenly. As soon as his business was taken care of, he'd talk with me again. Then I could ask him for help.
But now, as I approached the table to sit down again, I could start to hear EB's voice. It was less like he had put me on hold and more like he had just sat the phone down near some speaker playing really loud, crappy, contemporary R&B. Now I heard EB talking with some other guy about me, very faintly, in the background. EB was saying something about me that wasn't flattering at all. But I can't remember what it was.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
college dropout, college registration
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in some kind of room, possibly an area like a convention hall. It was probably dim or dark where I stood, like a specific booth in this hall had been set off from everything else and all the lights turned off in it, but with some light coming in from other places in the hall.
A young woman stood to my left. She may have stood at the edge of the dark booth, so that a bit more of the rest of the light of the convention hall was hitting her. The woman stood resting her arms atop some waist-high pedestal. There may have been a line of pedestals, with a pedestal near me as well.
The woman began complaining about her boyfriend. Her boyfriend had been going to college. He had probably gone back to school after having done a little bit of a career. But now he either had dropped out or was on his way to dropping out. He had been losing focus in school and was most likely through with it all.
The woman was disappointed. She said the man didn't even think anything was wrong with him. But the woman could see it. The woman could see how her boyfriend was mentally trailing off, slacking off in everything. But the man thought he was fine. In fact, he thought he was getting more and more in shape mentally all the time.
As the woman told me this, I looked off to my right. A big video screen (or projection screen with a video projected onto it) was playing some sort of black and white art video. At first the video showed a string of Chinese characters, all moving downwards along the screen kind of quickly. These images were interspersed with other objects, giving the feeling of something like strings of stars being pulled downward through the sky.
As I saw all this I thought that perhaps the man had been studying Chinese, at least as a part of his courses. But he was slowly losing focus, and was taking less and less care with his studies. The woman, I assumed, was really disappointed about this. The man, I supposed, was of Chinese descent. So the woman found it important that the man knew Chinese. But now the man was totally neglecting his Chinese studies.
I continued to watch the screen. The strings of characters and symbols were now all trailing downward, drifting into a few strings of dots of light. Eventually there was just one string of dots trailing downward. I knew, regarding the man, that this was probably a bad sign.
Dream #2
I was in a big room, like a cafeteria or a communal room in a university. The place was packed with students. A lot of the students seemed old. Some of them were kind of fat, not dressed very well, kind of messy. The whole place seemed very chaotic. I stood near a line of folding tables. There were workers behind the tables, probably helping the people in front of the table get registered for certain classes, or possibly advertising certain classes to the people in front of the tables.
I may now have been in or near a school bus. I may have been hearing a conversation in my head between a young woman and myself. The young woman seemed to be pushing me to go back to college. But I really didn't want to do that.
The bus was out in a dirt lot. Propped up on the ground near the bus was an LED sign with red lettering streaming from right to left. The LED part of the sign was just a small strip. The rest of the sign may have been white with blue lettering and a blue border. The LED strip kept saying something about $100,000. I knew that if I went back to college, I'd end up owing that much money.
Dream #1
I was in some kind of room, possibly an area like a convention hall. It was probably dim or dark where I stood, like a specific booth in this hall had been set off from everything else and all the lights turned off in it, but with some light coming in from other places in the hall.
A young woman stood to my left. She may have stood at the edge of the dark booth, so that a bit more of the rest of the light of the convention hall was hitting her. The woman stood resting her arms atop some waist-high pedestal. There may have been a line of pedestals, with a pedestal near me as well.
The woman began complaining about her boyfriend. Her boyfriend had been going to college. He had probably gone back to school after having done a little bit of a career. But now he either had dropped out or was on his way to dropping out. He had been losing focus in school and was most likely through with it all.
The woman was disappointed. She said the man didn't even think anything was wrong with him. But the woman could see it. The woman could see how her boyfriend was mentally trailing off, slacking off in everything. But the man thought he was fine. In fact, he thought he was getting more and more in shape mentally all the time.
As the woman told me this, I looked off to my right. A big video screen (or projection screen with a video projected onto it) was playing some sort of black and white art video. At first the video showed a string of Chinese characters, all moving downwards along the screen kind of quickly. These images were interspersed with other objects, giving the feeling of something like strings of stars being pulled downward through the sky.
As I saw all this I thought that perhaps the man had been studying Chinese, at least as a part of his courses. But he was slowly losing focus, and was taking less and less care with his studies. The woman, I assumed, was really disappointed about this. The man, I supposed, was of Chinese descent. So the woman found it important that the man knew Chinese. But now the man was totally neglecting his Chinese studies.
I continued to watch the screen. The strings of characters and symbols were now all trailing downward, drifting into a few strings of dots of light. Eventually there was just one string of dots trailing downward. I knew, regarding the man, that this was probably a bad sign.
Dream #2
I was in a big room, like a cafeteria or a communal room in a university. The place was packed with students. A lot of the students seemed old. Some of them were kind of fat, not dressed very well, kind of messy. The whole place seemed very chaotic. I stood near a line of folding tables. There were workers behind the tables, probably helping the people in front of the table get registered for certain classes, or possibly advertising certain classes to the people in front of the tables.
I may now have been in or near a school bus. I may have been hearing a conversation in my head between a young woman and myself. The young woman seemed to be pushing me to go back to college. But I really didn't want to do that.
The bus was out in a dirt lot. Propped up on the ground near the bus was an LED sign with red lettering streaming from right to left. The LED part of the sign was just a small strip. The rest of the sign may have been white with blue lettering and a blue border. The LED strip kept saying something about $100,000. I knew that if I went back to college, I'd end up owing that much money.
Friday, March 9, 2012
diphtheria house; customer complaints; how's consumer sentiment?
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
A view of the backyard of the house of a family. It was daytime. There were a lot of workers in the backyard, along with at least the mother and the father of the family. The house was a nice, two-story house. The mother and father were white, attractive, and kind of wealthy looking. The workers may have been dressed in yellow, pale green, or white, plastic protective suits.
The house was being worked on because the family had all suffered from some disease. The disease had probably been called diphtheria. The disease was apparently like scarlet fever because, when you had it, you had to burn everything you'd touched while you had it. So the workers were working, not on burning everything in the house, but on sanitizing it in some way.
One of the things the workers were doing was to plow up the ground all around the foundation of the house. Then they sprayed something all over the plowed up soil. This stuff looked like the white smoke that comes off of dry ice. It would do something like freeze the ground. But it was also adding a chemical to the ground that caused the soil to do something like freeze itself.
I understood that the diphtheria germs had come from the soil. The soil had been disturbed, releasing these old germs. Now the soil had to be chemically frozen, to kill the germs.
But now the workers began to ask about other items the family had been around in the house while they'd had diphtheria. In particular they began asking about the family dog. My view, which had been really close in on the soil that was sprayed, now backed away. I got a pretty full view of the back of the house. And even though the dog wasn't back there, I got a pretty good image in my head of the dog running along the back porch, in the shade of the back wall.
The mother of the family knew that if the workers knew the family had touched the dog while they were sick, the workers would want to spray the dog with the freezing chemicals, too. But the mother knew that that spray would kill any living thing. So the mother said that the family had not touched the dog while they had been sick.
Dream #2
I was in some kind of small store, like an old-style office supply or stationery store, or an old-style furniture store. It was pretty dim inside, and everything was grey, like even the walls and carpet were the same colors as the old, grey-painted, metal shelves.
I stood, or even sat, before some grey counter. The counter made a kind of L-shape that connected with the back wall and the left (my left) wall, making a kind of big square of space for the workers. There was at least one office-style desk behind the counter. The space felt like an old office overall. But at the back wall was a kind of window, like one might see for a service area between the cooks and the waiters in a diner.
Behind the counter sat two workers. One of the workers sat pretty close to the counter. The other worker sat at the desk, off in the back, left corner of the worker's space. The worker close to the counter was pretty young. He had been dealing with me in some way or another. But he had been rude to me, and he hadn't done what I'd needed at all.
I had told the young man that I was going to complain. The young man didn't seem to believe me or even care if I did complain. But I knew that if I spoke directly with one specific man: the other man sitting at the desk. He was the young man's boss, and he didn't seem to like the young man too much to begin with. He was looking for a reason to fire the young man. And I knew I could give the man a good reason.
The young man knew I was serious. So he decided to listen to me. But he was really mad at me. He asked, "What do you want me to do for you? What do I have to do?" in a kind of angry, but desparate tone.
It was now like we were talking on the phone instead of standing face to face. I could see the young man's angry face on the phone. At first he looked like he was a young, kind of skinny, black man. But his face morphed into a young, bald man with a kind of olive-colored to light brown complexion. His features were really sharp but smooth at the same time. He had a tight skull and sharp cheekbones. And he looked really sullen and angry.
I was through dealing with the young man, though, and I told him that I wanted to speak with the older man now. The young man didn't have a choice but to put me through to the older man. The older man was a kind of fat, white man with pale skin and hair in a spiky cut that looked like it was dyed blonde. He had kind of red cheeks. He wore a black polo shirt and black shorts. He was obviously in his forties, but his clothes and style made him look younger.
The older man knew he had to take my call, and he was already mad at the younger man. But the older man was on a phone call at the moment, so he told me I had to wait. The younger man stood up and walked into the back area, the area behind the back wall.
The older man fiddled around with his phone for a moment while talking. Then the call was over. But the older man acted like he still had a number of things to do, probably making phone calls, before he could finally get to helping me. He actually stood up and walked toward the back area himself.
I was still in the office. I was standing at the counter. But now the counter was more like a stainless steel counter. And behind the counter was now a small area like in a small bakery. The whole place still felt old, grey, and dingy. But now there were kind of fancy pastries everywhere. The counter ran in an L-shape. But now the L-shape faced away from the wall, so that the area behind the counter was also L-shaped.
The older man was working on putting all kinds of pastry orders together. He was completely avoiding me and any of the complaints I had, acting like he had to take care of all these orders first. I'd even ordered some pastries. And even though my order was small and simple, he was taking care of all the bigger, more complex orders first.
A group of Latina women walked in. A couple of them were maybe in their late twenties or early thirties. They looked like mothers. They were all happy. They all made orders with the man. The man put their orders together and gave them to them almost instantly, still completely ignoring me.
I looked at the women's orders. One of the women had a kind of bright pastel, sweet, delicate, bready, but dry-looking cake. The other had some kind of syrup-topped, pie-like thing that I told myself was made with guava. Both of the items looked good. But I was more intrigued by the guava item.
The women seemed to be leaving the store already. I had been shy while they were in front of me, because they were all pretty. But now they were all passing me to get to the door.
One of the last women to pass me must actually have been a girl. She was kind of short and very skinny. But she had a flat chest. She wore tiny, black jean shorts and a tiny, black bikini top with silver fringes. But the girl's chest was so flat that the bikini top was a little bunchy and loose on her in spots, even though it was drawn pretty tight around her back and neck. But despite the fact that the girl was so young, I was really aroused by her.
Dream #3
I was at "my office," sitting at "my cubicle." The walls of the cubicle were tall. I seemed to be sitting pretty close to the right edge of the wall, my face very close to the wall. To my right, and also pretty close, was a window with blinds. The light coming through the window seemed to be filtered through some kind of UV coating. It was greyish-brown, but still kind of sparkling somehow with the whiteness of bright sun.
Between the cubicle wall and the window was a little walkway. I knew that beyond me were one or two other cubicles, then a more open space for people to walk through. I knew that my boss BB was walking through that space, even though I couldn't see him. I could barely see another co-worker, SW, walking into that space.
My boss had just been out on some business trip through a few big cities. SW asked my boss, "Hey, so, while you were out there, how was business sentiment looking? I mean, how was the consumer outlook? Are people looking more positive?"
I thought this was a strange question to ask. It implied that my boss had actually been out to enough towns to actually get a good sampling of business sentiment in all of America. And it implied that my boss had actually been out talking to all kinds of people on the street.
But my boss had only been in a few cities. And those cities were pretty isolated, probably geographically, from the rest of America. And my boss had only been speaking to higher-up business people, about very specialized topics. I didn't think my boss' answer could really indicate a big picture view of the American economy.
But SW was going to take my boss' answer and use it to reflect the American economy. SW was like an economist for our company, as if our company were something other than it was, something more like an investment firm or an investment advising firm.
Dream #1
A view of the backyard of the house of a family. It was daytime. There were a lot of workers in the backyard, along with at least the mother and the father of the family. The house was a nice, two-story house. The mother and father were white, attractive, and kind of wealthy looking. The workers may have been dressed in yellow, pale green, or white, plastic protective suits.
The house was being worked on because the family had all suffered from some disease. The disease had probably been called diphtheria. The disease was apparently like scarlet fever because, when you had it, you had to burn everything you'd touched while you had it. So the workers were working, not on burning everything in the house, but on sanitizing it in some way.
One of the things the workers were doing was to plow up the ground all around the foundation of the house. Then they sprayed something all over the plowed up soil. This stuff looked like the white smoke that comes off of dry ice. It would do something like freeze the ground. But it was also adding a chemical to the ground that caused the soil to do something like freeze itself.
I understood that the diphtheria germs had come from the soil. The soil had been disturbed, releasing these old germs. Now the soil had to be chemically frozen, to kill the germs.
But now the workers began to ask about other items the family had been around in the house while they'd had diphtheria. In particular they began asking about the family dog. My view, which had been really close in on the soil that was sprayed, now backed away. I got a pretty full view of the back of the house. And even though the dog wasn't back there, I got a pretty good image in my head of the dog running along the back porch, in the shade of the back wall.
The mother of the family knew that if the workers knew the family had touched the dog while they were sick, the workers would want to spray the dog with the freezing chemicals, too. But the mother knew that that spray would kill any living thing. So the mother said that the family had not touched the dog while they had been sick.
Dream #2
I was in some kind of small store, like an old-style office supply or stationery store, or an old-style furniture store. It was pretty dim inside, and everything was grey, like even the walls and carpet were the same colors as the old, grey-painted, metal shelves.
I stood, or even sat, before some grey counter. The counter made a kind of L-shape that connected with the back wall and the left (my left) wall, making a kind of big square of space for the workers. There was at least one office-style desk behind the counter. The space felt like an old office overall. But at the back wall was a kind of window, like one might see for a service area between the cooks and the waiters in a diner.
Behind the counter sat two workers. One of the workers sat pretty close to the counter. The other worker sat at the desk, off in the back, left corner of the worker's space. The worker close to the counter was pretty young. He had been dealing with me in some way or another. But he had been rude to me, and he hadn't done what I'd needed at all.
I had told the young man that I was going to complain. The young man didn't seem to believe me or even care if I did complain. But I knew that if I spoke directly with one specific man: the other man sitting at the desk. He was the young man's boss, and he didn't seem to like the young man too much to begin with. He was looking for a reason to fire the young man. And I knew I could give the man a good reason.
The young man knew I was serious. So he decided to listen to me. But he was really mad at me. He asked, "What do you want me to do for you? What do I have to do?" in a kind of angry, but desparate tone.
It was now like we were talking on the phone instead of standing face to face. I could see the young man's angry face on the phone. At first he looked like he was a young, kind of skinny, black man. But his face morphed into a young, bald man with a kind of olive-colored to light brown complexion. His features were really sharp but smooth at the same time. He had a tight skull and sharp cheekbones. And he looked really sullen and angry.
I was through dealing with the young man, though, and I told him that I wanted to speak with the older man now. The young man didn't have a choice but to put me through to the older man. The older man was a kind of fat, white man with pale skin and hair in a spiky cut that looked like it was dyed blonde. He had kind of red cheeks. He wore a black polo shirt and black shorts. He was obviously in his forties, but his clothes and style made him look younger.
The older man knew he had to take my call, and he was already mad at the younger man. But the older man was on a phone call at the moment, so he told me I had to wait. The younger man stood up and walked into the back area, the area behind the back wall.
The older man fiddled around with his phone for a moment while talking. Then the call was over. But the older man acted like he still had a number of things to do, probably making phone calls, before he could finally get to helping me. He actually stood up and walked toward the back area himself.
I was still in the office. I was standing at the counter. But now the counter was more like a stainless steel counter. And behind the counter was now a small area like in a small bakery. The whole place still felt old, grey, and dingy. But now there were kind of fancy pastries everywhere. The counter ran in an L-shape. But now the L-shape faced away from the wall, so that the area behind the counter was also L-shaped.
The older man was working on putting all kinds of pastry orders together. He was completely avoiding me and any of the complaints I had, acting like he had to take care of all these orders first. I'd even ordered some pastries. And even though my order was small and simple, he was taking care of all the bigger, more complex orders first.
A group of Latina women walked in. A couple of them were maybe in their late twenties or early thirties. They looked like mothers. They were all happy. They all made orders with the man. The man put their orders together and gave them to them almost instantly, still completely ignoring me.
I looked at the women's orders. One of the women had a kind of bright pastel, sweet, delicate, bready, but dry-looking cake. The other had some kind of syrup-topped, pie-like thing that I told myself was made with guava. Both of the items looked good. But I was more intrigued by the guava item.
The women seemed to be leaving the store already. I had been shy while they were in front of me, because they were all pretty. But now they were all passing me to get to the door.
One of the last women to pass me must actually have been a girl. She was kind of short and very skinny. But she had a flat chest. She wore tiny, black jean shorts and a tiny, black bikini top with silver fringes. But the girl's chest was so flat that the bikini top was a little bunchy and loose on her in spots, even though it was drawn pretty tight around her back and neck. But despite the fact that the girl was so young, I was really aroused by her.
Dream #3
I was at "my office," sitting at "my cubicle." The walls of the cubicle were tall. I seemed to be sitting pretty close to the right edge of the wall, my face very close to the wall. To my right, and also pretty close, was a window with blinds. The light coming through the window seemed to be filtered through some kind of UV coating. It was greyish-brown, but still kind of sparkling somehow with the whiteness of bright sun.
Between the cubicle wall and the window was a little walkway. I knew that beyond me were one or two other cubicles, then a more open space for people to walk through. I knew that my boss BB was walking through that space, even though I couldn't see him. I could barely see another co-worker, SW, walking into that space.
My boss had just been out on some business trip through a few big cities. SW asked my boss, "Hey, so, while you were out there, how was business sentiment looking? I mean, how was the consumer outlook? Are people looking more positive?"
I thought this was a strange question to ask. It implied that my boss had actually been out to enough towns to actually get a good sampling of business sentiment in all of America. And it implied that my boss had actually been out talking to all kinds of people on the street.
But my boss had only been in a few cities. And those cities were pretty isolated, probably geographically, from the rest of America. And my boss had only been speaking to higher-up business people, about very specialized topics. I didn't think my boss' answer could really indicate a big picture view of the American economy.
But SW was going to take my boss' answer and use it to reflect the American economy. SW was like an economist for our company, as if our company were something other than it was, something more like an investment firm or an investment advising firm.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
catalpa vineyard
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
It was a bright, sunny day. I stood out before a tall, grassy hill with a young girl. The hill was a lot like a hill in my hometown.
There seemed to be a vineyard growing on the hill. But all the grape vines seemed to be growing widely spaced apart, and they stood almost as tall as trees. The grape plants also seemed to be growing cone-like masses of flowers, like wisteria flowers. The whole space was surrounded by a kind of short, run-down wooden fence.
I pointed the vineyard out to the girl, pointing with my left hand. I told the girl that I felt like I should have known about this vineyard for a long time. Maybe I had known about it, but I just hadn't cared about it. Now it was in bad shape. I wondered if I couldn't fix it up some.
I then noticed a huge tree, in its own fence, either inside the vineyard or just outside it. The trunk of the tree looked really ragged, like the tree was old or in bad shape. The tree may also have been barren of leafs. But it was growing cones of flowers, like a chesnut tree or a catalpa tree.
Dream #1
It was a bright, sunny day. I stood out before a tall, grassy hill with a young girl. The hill was a lot like a hill in my hometown.
There seemed to be a vineyard growing on the hill. But all the grape vines seemed to be growing widely spaced apart, and they stood almost as tall as trees. The grape plants also seemed to be growing cone-like masses of flowers, like wisteria flowers. The whole space was surrounded by a kind of short, run-down wooden fence.
I pointed the vineyard out to the girl, pointing with my left hand. I told the girl that I felt like I should have known about this vineyard for a long time. Maybe I had known about it, but I just hadn't cared about it. Now it was in bad shape. I wondered if I couldn't fix it up some.
I then noticed a huge tree, in its own fence, either inside the vineyard or just outside it. The trunk of the tree looked really ragged, like the tree was old or in bad shape. The tree may also have been barren of leafs. But it was growing cones of flowers, like a chesnut tree or a catalpa tree.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)