2/1/03:
No dreams.
2/2/03:
All I remember is that I had a lot of semi-nightmares last night that someone was trying to break into my apartment. I also dreamed at some point that Jim was sleeping with me and I was wandering around the dark apartment while some suspense/horror movie music soundtrack played from my computer's hard drive CD player. I remember everything in my apartment that emitted a little glowing light (the blinking clock on the VCR, the on button on the DVD, my hard drive tower, the power strip) seemed to be really bright, more than usual... as I wandered around the apartment (making dramatic lighting) checking and double checking to see if the door was locked.
2/3/03:
I am taking taxis all
over Manhattan because I am supposed to meet my old childhood friend Tim
for lunch - he called me and is in town. I told him to meet me at 6PM at
this restaurant that is right on the edge of this lush park (the Manhattan
in this dream looks very different than the real one). I have been to this
restaurant before - it has this huge, black cave-like interior made of
rock formations with little waterfalls and little flaming caves and lots
of hanging plants and stuff - but it only seems to exist in my dream. Tim
and I keep calling each other via cell phone the whole day as I am running
around doing different things trying to get ready and do everything else
I have to do that day. At one point I get into a taxi and tell the Pakistani
driver an address near Wall Street. When we get in the Wall Street area
suddenly the driver starts talking really frantically into his CB radio
and he stops the cab. He tells me that we are "near" the address I asked
for and asks be to "please just get out" because he has an "emergency"
to tend to. I throw a five dollar bill on his seat - less than what the
meter reads - and get out. I look all around lower Manhattan... it is a
beautiful, bright sunny, breezy Spring day - truly great. The buildings
all around me seem HUGE - bigger and more grand than usual. Also the streets
seem much wider than I "remember". It almost looks like the huge buildings
are huge cliffs in Monument Valley, AZ. Also I hear people and cars around
me - but don't really see any. I look at what looks like the Flatiron Building
in the distance. It looks huge, more so than usual, and it looks very dark
gray - and also very far from me. My "dream eye" starts to do that weird
thing that a camera will do when it looks directly at sunlight - the fields
of vision that include patches of sunny sky start to "wash out" the rest
of the image. I see a bunch of black birds circling some of the buildings
and it is then, in that perspective, that I realize how huge they really
are. Where was I trying to get to in the first place?
I am suddenly back
at what appears to be my living space. It looks different. There seems
to be more hallways and rooms... and I have a lot of windows that look
out over rooftops that don't look at all like Manhattan. It always seems
to be sunset dusk outside my window. I also seem to have other people who
live there. One appears to be my old childhood friend Stan... whom
I haven't even seen since grade school. Also a blond woman lives there.
Stan and I seem to be working on some project... we keep carrying duffle
bags filled with rolled-up papers in them - like cardboard tubes with architecture
plans in them.
The blond woman keeps
telling me that "Tim is on the phone" and I keep talking to Tim. I realize
that 6PM has passed and he is probably sitting in the restaurant waiting
for me. I get Tim on the phone and he tells me he is running incredibly
late and is not even at the restaurant yet... this is a relief because
I am too. I think we just cancel our lunch date. I "picture" the restaurant
in the edge of the sunny, lush park. It is full of people. I notice the
outside of the restaurant is made of stone - which is blinding white in
the daytime sun. I realize it looks like a mausoleum.
I go into the bathroom,
which looks nothing like my bathroom (it has a very old sink and mirror
and one wall is made of glass bricks and everything seems covered in that
briney, crusty green mildew. I start playing with my hair in the mirror.
My hair seems to be made of thick yarn.
Suddenly a scenario
shift: I am in my room late at night watching an old television set. On
it, I seem to be receiving a secret transmission of interviews conducted
with Debbie Harry from way back in like 1983 or something. I see
Debbie doing what appears to be a local weather report on a local news
station. She's standing in front of one of those meteorological maps and
everything... answering the interviewer's questions and also saying things
like "...a cold front is coming in from the north folks... look for high
precipitation... it's gonna be a cold one tonight folks!" It's very weird.
The camera that recorded the interview keeps swooping up close to her and
back away. She is wearing that awful giant Tina Turner wig from The Hunter
album cover - also the torn leopard skin dress. As the camera zooms in
on her wig I am thinking "Why did she wear that wig on that cover?"
Then a scenario shift:
it is night time now. I am in bed with Jim. We are asleep. The light
is on in my bedroom. I think that at times Jim may actually be Stan and
vice versa. As I lay there... I see what appears to be a little miniature
gorilla (or a baby one?) come in through my window and start playing with
all the toys on the shelf in my bedroom. I just lay there really still
and watch it. I try to wake Jim up (who is asleep) to let him know about
it. When I wake Jim up he sits up really loudly and is like "Aaaaggghhh!
A monkey is in here!" This makes the monkey go crazy and start flailing
all over the place. I notice that the monkey at this point seems to be
this weird shade of glowing green. We both stand up and the monkey starts
crawling all over us... then jumping off of us ...then back on, really
fast. We are laughing. At one point the monkey is sitting perfectly still
on the top of my head and I walk across the room wearing it like a hat.
As I do the monkey reaches out and grabs things from the apartment and
tries to put them in it's mouth - even if it isn't food. I just keep walking
back and forth like a fashion model wearing a monkey hat. Jim and I are
laughing really, really hard at this... and the monkey seems to be getting
a kick out of it.
At one point the monkey
is on my head and I brush up against Jim's face and I say something like
"Don't let the monkey's fur touch your face... he could be infested with
weird germs."
Scenario shift: it
is the next day. Jim and I are sitting in these straight back wooden chairs
in the middle of my room. We are tied to the chairs with heavy rope. We
are also gagged. There are sheets of clear plastic on my walls. There are
doctors and government officials in my house. It appears that we both got
some horrible virus from the monkey - some rare disease... and now we are
being quarantined. As the "camera eye" of the dream "pulls away"... I see
Jim and I tied to the chairs in the middle of the room. We now seem to
be animated characters... in fact, we are Bart Simpson and Milhouse
from The Simpsons. Except we have swollen heads and are crying and there
are little animated drops of sweat coming off of us. The rest of the room
is not animated.
2/4/03:
I'm in some giant field.
It seems to be early Fall or very early Spring - sunny, but no leaves on
the trees and dead grass but not too cold. The field has what looks like
the giant dressing room area of a large fashion show - like a tent. It
looks like a tented fashion show backstage area like they ones they have
in the tents at Bryant Park in NYC during fashion week. I am with a group
of people I don't know (although one may be actor Paul Dinello from
'Strangers With Candy' and another may be NY drag performer Sherry Vine)
and we are all getting ready to do some performance that is going to take
place somewhere near. We each have our own little dressing "area" in the
tent thing that has a big mirror we can stand in front of, and lights.
We are all running around getting ready.
Soon we all see that
we each have these large white envelopes taped to our individual mirrors,
with our names written on them in magic marker. It turns out that these
are our instructions for the character we are going to play in the performance...
as well as any costume we might need for the character. We all soon realize,
somehow, that we are doing a performance about a medieval royal court...
and that one of us will play the king, one of us the queen, one of us the
prince... and so on down the line all the way to serfs and servants. It
turns out that the higher in order your character is... the more lines
you have and the better the part is. The king is the best part and the
serfs are the worst. So it's kind of like a lottery to see who is going
to be playing king and queen and so on. We are all kind of gathering around
and looking in each other's envelopes... when we all open them we notice
that the notes inside are really vague... they don't say specific things
like "You are playing the Prince" - they say stuff like "Have a great show...
I know you are gonna be great in this role... you are AMAZING!" or "You
are SUPER REAL!" - like those weird hand written signs you see directing
models that only they can see right before they can walk out onto the catwalk
that say "Give major ATTITUDE!". We are all kind of gathering around like
"Huh?"
As we are all trying
to figure out what is going on... one of our group realizes that his envelop
was actually made out of one of those free gold cardboard king's hats that
they give to kids with their kid's meals at Burger King. It's like the
envelope folds out and then the cardboard hat is inside it... weird. He
pulls it out and is like "Look!" and everyone is all "Aaaaahhhhh! You're
the King! Congratulations!" We all kind of simmer down and put our coats
on. It appears that our "performance" is to leave the tent and walk across
the field past a row of trees and into another field. That's it. As we
are all getting ready to leave, I look at my note again and see that it
says "You are a sailor." I reach in my coat pocket and see that there is
this ratty old tan colored sailor hat. I don't know how it got there. I
don't tell anyone about it... I just put the hat on as we are all leaving
the tent. I have no idea what a modern sailor has to do with a royal court.
We all walk out the tent and across the field. Me in my dumb sailor hat
and the King in the Burger King hat (which he is wearing with great pride
and walking ahead of the group with) are the only people in "costume".
We just walk across the field in silence.
2/5/03:
All I remember is some
really strange scenario that I was observing in a hospital. I seemed to
be "seeing" the scenario through one of the "characters" in the dream.
The "character" was an older, tough woman who reminded me of actress Colleen
Dewhurst. It seems that a group of relatives had gathered at the hospital
because a family member had been critically hurt in an accident or something.
At one point when everyone was there, the family member died suddenly.
There seemed to be this situation where the relatives in the hospital could
purchase these "reaction alarms" that would gauge how much shock or sadness
the relative felt upon hearing of the family member's demise. The more
money you spent on the "alarm" (which you could buy in the hospital gift
shop) the more shock and sadness was shown that you felt - so the whole
thing was fake. The alarms were weird... they were these maroon and yellow
colored lit-up signs that appeared suddenly on the wall in front of wherever
you were standing as soon as you heard the news about someone dying. They
had flashing lights behind words like "GRIEF" and "OH MY GOD NO" and they
had a male voice coming out of a speaker in the bottom of them that said
"[person's name] ...has died! I am so sad!" and stuff like that.
When this person died
in the dream... the Colleen Dewhurst-like character's sign suddenly flashed
up on the wall and all of the family members looked at her crass-ly, they
seemed to think she was faking her grief and it seems that none of them
ever really liked her. Since I was experiencing the dream through her "eyes"
I remember her thinking that she was glad she purchased a lesser expensive
version of the grief sign because she didn't want to appear too ostentatious
- as she really DIDN'T care too much about the death of the family member
in question (whom she hardly knew) and therefore the other relatives had
just cause to suspect her of not caring enough.
2/6/03:
No dreams.
2/7/03:
No dreams.
2/8/03:
All I remember was this scenario where there were these three women behind what looked like a check-in desk at the gate of an airport. There seemed to be other identical desks nearby with women behind them too. Maybe it was a department store. The women were dressed very nice and are very made up, were pretty, and looked kind of middle aged. As I'm kind of "observing" these women... I notice that there seems to be this underlying sense of menace about them. Not evil... just kind of like underlying unhappiness and hostility among them - perhaps out of boredom (it seems like they are on post at some dull job). One of the women (who has very short, pixie-like hair) has just walked up to the desk from behind and is carrying something. I think it may be a turkey (to cook) or maybe one of those very flat, dried-out fish you see in Spanish or Asian markets. She seems excited about it and looks at the other two women as if to say "Neat huh?" but the other two women, the middle one in particular (who seems to be the ringleader) shoot her a very condescending look - even though they are smiling. The pixie-haired woman then kind of pulls whatever she has near her chest, drops her expression and kind of sulks away. The other two women look at each other and kind of mockingly laugh. It appears that the pixie-haired woman may be the doormat of the three and the one ringleader and sidekick are always toying with her in a mocking and condescending way. It looks like kind of a bad scene. I also notice that the women, even though they are very made up and have nice clothes, seem to be extra-wrinkled and tired and worn looking. Not as pretty when you see them up close. Kind of glamorous but ragged just below the surface.
2/9/03:
No dreams.
2/10/03:
No dreams.
2/11/03:
It is night time...
and I am in some scenario outside, at a location I don't recognize. I seem
to be at some massive construction site - or maybe even a strip-mining
location. It looks like I may be in a kind of valley - with mountains in
the distance all around us (but it's night so I can't tell really). There
are a lot of people around... none of whom I know. There is one guy in
particular who is wearing a maroon wind breaker and walking around with
a clipboard. He seems to be "in charge" of whatever we are there for. I
can tell that none of us work at this construction site (if that's what
it is) - plus we seem to be here late, after hours... and maybe illegally.
Everyone's mood seems slightly edgy and a little apprehensive.
In front of us is a
massive area, like the size of a football field, that has been dug out.
It's about eight ot ten or so feet deep - and has been evenly dug out so
the bottom of it is smooth, fresh soil. In the very center of it is a large
dome or disk or something. It's the size of a small house - and looks like
it might be a flying saucer made of dirt. There are what appear to be lights
under the main structure of the dirt disk thing - and every time I look
at it it seems a little different. I get the impression that we all seem
to be here about the dirt disk. The guy with the clipboard is running around
and everyone is kind of antsy. At one point, out of the corner of my eye,
I see something that may have been lit up *swoooosh* quickly from above
out heads and then under the dirt disk. It happens really fast and everyone
sees it and is like "Whoa!" Someone shouts "There went another one!" when
that happens.
Then a scenario shift:
I seem to be observing a young woman in a bedroom. She is wearing a huge,
peach-colored sweater that covers her entire body. She is laying back on
a couch or bed. There is a man standing over her. He reaches above her
head to get something off a shelf above her. When he pulls his arm back,
he - somehow - rips the entire right side of the woman's sweater thing
off of her. It makes no sense since he barely moved his arm at all. Then
the woman is just laying there with a blank look on her face... with the
entire right side of her body naked. I saw her breast jiggle a little when
the sweater ripped off. The woman seems completely bored.
2/12/03:
I am in what appears
to be some massive underground structure. The building is, at several different
times, a firehouse, someone's massive underground home, or the backstage
area of a giant arena. The structure is just made of minimal, gray concrete
and cinder blocks. I think my old childhood friend Tim was around
at one point, can't remember when. Also I vaguely remember being outside
the structure... above ground... at some point. I remember there was a
whole unknown town up there.
At one point I am with
a guy that works in the space, this is when it is a fire house. We are
standing near the area where they supposedly bring in cars from the outside
that "are on fire". It's a weird firehouse in that they only bring the
fires to them, not go to them... and it's also only automobiles. We are
standing there watching and every once in a while a giant garage door opens
and down this ramp comes some kind of car that is maybe on fire, or was,
or is damaged in some way, or maybe has injured people inside. Then
it stops in a certain spot - and everyone attends to it. The guy I am with
(whom I don't know) is telling me all about how the firehouse works, I
guess he is a fireman. I keep looking at the concrete floor of the places
where the cars stop once they arrive... it is spotless. I am amazed that
there are no stains or burn marks or anything. I start to ask my friend
about what do they do with injured people in some of the cars. He seems
confused like he should know the answer but doesn't.
Then a scenario shift:
I am in the exact same space, but it is not a firehouse - it is someone's
house (it also seems like a backstage area at one point). The rich guy
that lives there works in the entertainment industry - maybe as a journalist
or something. It is late at night, and he is running around getting everything
right in the space because he is expecting a late night visit from either
Brian
Eno, or an un-named Japanese musician (it seems to keep switching back
and forth). I seem to be one of the guy's assistant... or maybe just
a friend. I jeep offering to help with stuff... and he keeps saying "No...
my assistants will get it" - then he tells them to do something. He has
a whole table set up in one of the massive hallways of the structure that
has a huge buffet on it... complete with steaming metal trays full of hot
food. The food is set up specifically for Brian Eno's visit.
The hours pass and
pass deep into the night and Brian never shows up. At one point it looks
obvious that he is going to be a no-show. The guy who lives there gets
a call on his cell phone and he says to whoever is calling "Hello? Well...
it's not going very well at all..." He walks over to the food table and
looks at the food. I say to him (while he's one the phone still) in this
really cheerful way "Do you want me to re-heat the food? Or maybe put it
away?"
2/13/03:
I am in some big city
that I do not recognize. It could be New York - just looks totally different.
I seem to be on this mission to deliver this huge package to my grandmother...
who lives in the same city. The package is this series of little boxes,
and then broken-down, flat big cardboard boxes all tied together with bungee
cord. The whole thing is attached to a little hand car that I am wheeling
around. I am wheeling the thing through the streets... toward grandma's
house. It is daytime... maybe a little rainy.
At one point... for
some reason, I decide to go through this gigantic hotel... to save time.
It kind of looks like The Plaza in New York. I find myself on one of the
upper floors, having taken the elevator up there. I am walking around...
wheeling my huge package behind me... trying to find my way out of the
hotel. What in the Hell am I doing in here? The hotel has white walls,
industrial carpet that is dark red with some kind of pattern on it. There
are also gaudy gold decorative accents all over the walls and doors and
stuff - it looks like sculpted wood or plaster that has been covered with
gold leaf. I just keep wandering around... with the supposed goal of getting
back out on the street and on my way.
At one point... when
I am getting off yet another elevator and wheeling my package around another
floor, a security guard (who is sitting on this peach and beige striped
couch with a peach colored lamp on a little table next to it) stops me.
He asks me what I am doing walking around their posh hotel with such a
big package. I tell him I am delivering a gift to my grandmother and I
lost my way in this hotel. He doesn't seem to believe me. He also keeps
changing from a black, muscle-y guy into a fat white guy with a beard.
He is acting very authoritative and condescending. He asks why I took a
weird shortcut through the upper floors of this hotel. I don't really have
an answer - I tell him I thought it would be a short cut and I was mistaken.
He asks what my grandmother's name is, I tell him. He asks me her address.
I pull out a little piece of paper and show him the address written down
on it.
I must of got out of
there because I am now back out on the street. I decide to stop off at
Gregory's
house on my way to grandma's house. It is dusk now. I go up to Gregory's
and we hang out. I am telling him about the security guard at the hotel
and how great it was that I had an answer to every question he posed...
like I had nothing to hide. Gregory has laid out this little blob of cocaine
on his glass coffee table... with a little plastic coffee-stirrer red straw
on top of it. He does a little and asks me if I want some. I say no because
I hate coke and never do it (in real life). We are talking about all kinds
of stuff and just kind of hanging around. I realize that time is passing
and I rally need to get on to grandma's house, but I don't want to leave
for some reason.
At one point I notice
Gregory has a curtain separating his kitchen and living room, which he
doesn't have in real life. As Greg is telling me some story - I walk over
to the tiny pile of cocaine and I DO SOME! I can't believe that I did...
it's kind of weird. I just do it and Greg sees me but doesn't say anything...
just keeps talking. I am wondering if it is okay to go to my grandma's
house a little high.
Then a little time
seems to have passed. My old Act-Up friend, Raphael, is at Greg's
house. I have not seen Raphael in probably ten years... and I know he doesn't
know Greg... so it's kind of weird that he is there. At one point, we are
all lying on Greg's bed... kind of huddled together. Suddenly Greg and
Raphael start making out. I am laying on top of Raphael's body - and he
is wearing these dancer tights. I can feel that Raphael has a huge hard-on
underneath the tights. I'm thinking about what a weird scenario this is
and how I'm uncomfortable in a sexual situation with Greg.
I guess I never made
it to grandma's.
2/14/03:
No dreams.
2/15/03:
I am watching some TV
show - or living in it, it's hard to tell. It's some kind of "Saturday
Night Live"-ish sketch comedy show. There is a break in the sketch comedy
and a short little animated piece begins that is called "The Story of Iraq"
or "How Iraq Came To Be" or something like that. The animated piece is
done with little figures and objects that seem to have been made out of
colored clay or Play-Dough. These objects are operated off-screen by people
pulling them with little strings. The "camera" begins by kind of swooping
down over the scene - which looks like a topographical map made out of
colored clay - with little labels on everything... and dry ice smoke, I
guess to signify "ocean mist" or something. The little scene is of an island...
with a small island next to it. The label on the island says "IRAQ" in
big black letters - in a script typeface. There is a little boat with some
little figures who look like Saudi men in it. There are some other objects
around too. You can hear the audience laughing in the background of the
sketch. A voice-over (woman's voice) comes on and says "This is the story
of Iraq... once upon a time, there was a beautiful swan..." You can see
what looks like a little swan inside a cage on the little island next to
the big one. The concept of the piece seems to be that the people of Iraq,
before Saddam Hussein came into power, were these beautiful, peace-loving
"swans" who were then caged by Saddam Hussein's tyranny. You even see a
little toy plane being guided down to the island with someone's hand -
it's supposed to be Saddam Hussein - arriving for the first time,
to take over the place. The audience is laughing in the background and
is like "Booooo! Hahahahaha!" Then you see the little Saddam figure (guided
by strings) sitting on the little island looking all around him with these
comical-looking binoculars... saying "This island is mine! Grrrr!" and
the audience is like "Hahahaha! hee hee!" You also see that the caged swan
on the little island has turned into a little crowd of people in the cage
- this is supposed to represent the people of Iraq under Saddam's control.
You also see that the big island - labeled Iraq - is totally empty and
barren. You can hear the little cage of Iraq people kind of yelling "Help
us!" Also there seem to be more little boats of prominent looking Saudi
men (little clay figures) arriving to the little island to meet Saddam.
These boats are pulled with little string and the string gets tangled at
one point and the boat flips over and this causes the audience to roar
with laughter. Whether what I'm watching is fact-ignoring comedy for comedy's
sake (Iraq is not an island - and historically makes no sense) or weird
propaganda on American television is unclear - but as I'm watching it I
get this overwhelming feeling that the Iraqi people really WERE beautiful
people before their country descended into war or dictatorship or whatever
it is. I can't help but feel that over and over as I "watch" this silly
comedy - it's an overwhelming feeling of weeping empathy.
Suddenly... I am still
"watching" the same show... (sometimes observant - sometime right around
the action) but it seems to have now changed from a wacky sketch comedy
show into a kind of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"-esque teen action show.
It's not a set piece, live - but filmed and edited with a laugh track edited
in. There are two female lead characters... one who may be Sarah Michelle
Geller - the other almost looks like Judy Strangis, the actress
who played Dyna Girl way back in Sid and Marty Krofft's "Electra Woman
and Dyne Girl" 1970's Saturday morning TV show. The two characters are
almost dressed in Electra Woman and Dyna Girl-ish outfits. I think their
hair is in pig-tails. The plot is that is the girl's mission is to infiltrate
Saddam Hussein's lavish mansion and assassinate Saddam (this is the same
little mansion we saw in the clay figure piece - so it's kind of a weird
continuation, but with live actors and sets). The girls are in the mansion
and acting all goofy as they try to wander around and figure out where
Saddam is hiding. The inside is filled with all kinds of passages and balconies.
The girls keep kind of bickering and dropping one-liners on each other
and the audience is like "Hahahaha! You go girl!" and stuff like that.
At one point they find this drop-down attic-like ladder that they think
might lead to something important, like where Saddam is hiding. They keep
bickering with each other back and forth... like "You go... no you go first!
- Well I discovered it so YOU have to go first! - Oh that is SO not how
it's gonna be! - Shut up you! - No YOU shut up!" and on and on and the
laugh track is like "Hee hee ho! Uh-oh!" So finally one of them goes up
and they go to more and more upper levels of the huge mansion.
At one point they pass
what looks like the entrance to a huge auditorium, that is all lit up but
empty.
David Letterman is sitting in one of the seats near the door,
reading a newspaper. One of the girls asks Dave, as they pass by, "David
will you help us keep track of all the levels we are climbing up?" and
David just kind of looks up from his paper for a second, and with a shtick-y
smirk says "Oh... oh no, I think you girls are doing JUST FINE!" and this
causes the laugh track audience to ROAR with laughter (am I 'watching'
the David Letterman Show?).
Suddenly a total scenario
shift. I seem to be in the same mansion set - but it's a real house - and
it seems to be totally removed from the original dream scenario. I am on
an upper floor. There is no furniture anywhere. Everything is painted different
shades of blue. Jim is in the shower in an adjacent bathroom. I
am waiting on him. I go to the door near the bathroom and lay on this clear
plastic inflatable mattress. I am naked... and just laying there while
Jim showers. I am blocking the door.
Suddenly a complete
scenario shift: I somehow have been able to get last minute in-studio tickets
for me, my childhood friend Tim and Camille Paglia... to
see a taping of "The David Letterman Show". We are in the audience and
are watching the show. At one point Dave recognizes Camille in the audience
and I guess decides to bring up the house lights (the auditorium looks
exactly like the one Dave was sitting in in the earlier part of the dream)
and go talk to her with a microphone. He walks over to us (I am definitely
'watching' this on television - I can see myself sitting there in the audience)
and says "Why look everyone... Camille Paglia is here!" Camille stands
up and says "It's nice to be here Dave! I have been a big fan of your satirical
comedy show for years!" He asks her what she is doing in New York and she
says "I am here seeing your show with my friends Mark and Tim!" and she
points to us with her hand as she says each of our names.
2/16/03:
There was something weird about living in this giant house... that was actually an extension of one of the dorms I lived in in college. I remember there was something about going down into the house's vast basement and "fixing" something, or rebuilding it. There was something also involving a baby down there. At one point I think me and the people I was with got "trapped" down in the basement... and a rescue crew had to come help us out? It's very fuzzy, that's all I can remember.
2/17/03:
The only thing I remember vividly was me cutting out this itty bitty newspaper article and putting it up on the wall with a red push pin. It had a little black and white picture of Joan Rivers and the headline said "Actress Joan Rivers Dies".
2/18/03:
No dreams.
2/19/03:
No dreams.
2/20/03:
There was a lot to the
dream... but I only remember two parts:
In one part I was living
in some strange house with a lot of people I didn't know. The only person
I did know was Gregory and his cat, Kino. The house is very
strange... the walls are all made of thick, bare, gray concrete... and
are at odd angles all over the home. Even some of the furniture seems to
be made of concrete. There are long, skinny windows around. You can see
it's daylight outside. At one point I am lying in my bed with Gregory,
I think... and Kino is there. There is something wrong with Kino... like
his belly is distended or something. We are petting him and tending to
him.
The next scenario seems
to happen in the same town that the concrete house was in... which looks
like a small American suburb... an older one. It is a town I do not recognize.
For some reason, as I am dreaming, I realize that I am "living inside"
of
Dario Argento's new film. What happens to me is what happens
in his film. Although I seem to just be a casual observer to what happens
to the major characters. Every once in a while, as things are happening,
I see Dario off in the corner of my eye, through my peripheral vision (off
'camera'?)... saying "Yes!" and "Good... okay!" and "Bello!" like a director.
I seem to be following some woman all over town as she goes to different
people in different buildings... and gets directions to the next place
she should go to from the person that lives in or works in that building
(i.e.; the owner of a flower shop points in the direction of a gas station...
the gas station attendant points her in the direction of a house... and
leads her all the way... etc...) When she finally gets to the final house...
it is a very nice house with obviously wealthy owners. She goes inside
to discuss something with the people that live there. There is an ominous
air to the home... like the people that live in it are dangerous. It becomes
clear that the people who live in the home are obviously part of the mafia...
and are very ruthless and dangerous. The woman's life is in danger. I see
many women in the home, older... wearing Chanel suits and black sunglasses.
All the men seem to be dressed like butlers. There is a long, strange hallway
in the center of the home that has red carpet and it seems to have these
strange steps that go up and down along the hallway... plus the ceiling
of the hallway has all these reflective gold areas that flicker light in
from the windows near them - plus there are chandeliers made of gold with
those little fake flame light bulbs in them. At one point everyone in the
home's attention appears to be on the woman... whom they seem to want to
kill. The woman goes outside onto the front patio... which is open out
onto the small street, has pebble stone concrete and black iron furniture.
One of the Chanel suit women follows her out there. The woman appears to
have escaped danger. I see Dario "behind" me say "Cut!". I am thinking
"This seems like a crime drama! There is no killer like in most Dario films...
these is missing a central madman or madmen! I don't like it!"
2/21/03:
I was taking Domenic
back to my old college campus. I was entering the art building on campus
with him. I was showing him all the floors of the building and walking
around looking at everything with him. There were lots of people in the
building and classes were definitely in session. I kept saying to him as
we walked around "Oh I spent so many hours of my college years in this
building Domenic! I have so many memories here!". They seemed to be having
a big lecture in the hallway/balcony of one of the upper floors. The lights
were kind of out and a lot of students had chairs and were watching a slide
presentation by one of the teachers. At one point one of the teachers said
something about Domenic and I as we walked by. Everyone laughed. Then Domenic
sat down in one of the chairs and looked at me and said "This is what I
was looking for Mr. Allen!" He seemed to be attending the class. Then I
went over to this area where there were some lockers and proceeded to try
and open one.
The next art of the
dream was a nightmare... a total scenario shift... I dreamed I was a female
character in a film... or what I experienced was really happening. Me and
some other people I didn't know were being held in some massive boating
dock area. It was late at night and the place was run by two guys who looked
Cuban or Greek. They were serial killers who kidnapped people... brought
them to this boating dock area, killed them and stored their bodies there.
The dock had a lot of buildings next to the boat area, that acted like
storage houses and living quarters and stuff for the killers. The buildings
had massive windows on all the walls so you could see out into the dark
night. It was night time. There was a lot of heavy machinery inside all
the structures... like wood and metal shop machines... really scary. Also
lots of furniture, a kitchen, cars... actually really nice living quarters.
At one point one of the killers turned into an older bald guy. There was
some situation where they kept tying us up to kill us and something kept
happening to get us out of the situation... like we lucked out. Then the
bald guy would be like "Okay... now we are really going to kill them this
time!" and they would tie us up again. At one point, out of the corner
of my eye I saw an open freezer door and I saw the naked, tied-up dead
bodies of some of their past victims piled up inside of it. I could see
the open-mouthed, open-eyed looks on the victim's faces and it was awful.
The whole situation was kind of darkly comical... like the way they couldn't
seem to kill us... like a film... but the overall feeling of this part
of the dream was genuinely terrifying and full of horrible dread.
Then another total
scenario shift. I was observing Howard Stern and his show co-host
Robin
Quivers getting interviewed on what looked like The Charlie Rose
show
on PBS. I kind of see them get out of this limo (in the daytime) and walk
through a crowd of paparazzi and fans and into the TV studio. Then they
sit at that table with Charlie and start talking to him. Robin has her
hair short like in the early days of their show... and she is wearing a
60's style psychedelic print polyester blouse. Howard has very long hair
and sunglasses. They are talking about the status of their radio show in
2003. As Howard is talking, I see that he is scraping what looks like the
seeds of a honeydew melon off of the inside of a sliced open melon. He
is using his fingernails to scrape the seeds of the fleshy part of some
kind of fruit - honeydew or green pomegranate or something. I think he
is going to eat the seeds as he pulls them off. He seems nervous or edgy
as he does this and talks about his career - which I get the impression
is not as hot as it once was in the 90's. As I "see" a close-up of the
seeds and Howard's finger's, I get the same sense of dread as in the killer
nightmare part of the dream.
2/22/03:
I'm living here in my
apartment with Domenic. The apartment looks totally different, as
does the building itself... there even seems to be some other people living
with us that I don't know. I realize the building and rooms look similar
to the dorm rooms from my freshman year of college. It is dusk outside
and seems like Spring - i actually pick up the energy that I am in my old
college town in Texas, which makes me feel good. Yet at the same time,
it's New York in the here and now.
Domenic has walked
in and he hands me this envelope that was in the mail for me. I see that
he has opened the envelope and looked at the contents. He throws the envelope
in my lap and says "Here Mr. Allen this is for you... are you going to
be leaving me now?" I look down and see that the envelope is addressed
to me. The return address is a woman's name... a name I do not know. I
open the contents of the envelope and inside is what looks like a blown-up
photo/poster of what seems to be a fake newspaper front page. The newspaper
has a phony title like "The New York Guardian" or something like that -
in old english script... and looks just like a newspaper front page (but
is enlarged into a giant poster). Every article on the page is about me...
and whoever made it took separate images from my web page and placed them
with the articles to look like a real newspaper. The main headline says
something like "Anonymous Woman Donates $10,000 to Mark Allen" or something
like that. The fake article is about exactly that... how the woman who
sent me this thing donated that money to me. Inside the poster I find a
check for $10,064.83 or something like that. It's a real check. The check
is light blue and has teddy bears with balloons in the background. I freak
out and am like "Oh my God! Is this real? Who is this woman? Can I actually
accept this? Is this a joke?" I realize that it is real - and I am freaking
out wondering if I should accept it. Domenic is all cracking jokes and
saying that I am going to "leave him" alone in the apartment now.
2/23/03:
I am in what looks like
the art classroom of a high school I went to briefly in Richardson, Texas
as a kid. But the time is here and now. It seems that there is a camera
crew there, broadcasting our classroom live on a 24 hour cable sports channel.
One of the students at this school is an expert swimmer, and right after
this class - he is going to be swimming in some very important relay competition
at the school's pool facility. The student walks in and he is very young,
and very good looking. He has short blond hair and looks very aryan. He
is dressed kind of weirdly - he has these strange knickers on with knee
socks that are the same color - and a weird jacket that almost looks like
a marching band leader's jacket. He walks in and places his books, coat
and scarf down and walks right up to the interviewer with the camera on
him and starts being interviewed. He talks in that really smooth, kind
of empty, sound-bite way that sports guys always talk to the camera. It
seems that this guy was late for class and never did his assignment - but
none of the teachers or faculty mind because he has the potential to be
such a sports star and bring the school great recognition. I get the impression
that this guy has lead a very charmed life... and usually gets what he
wants because everyone is always coddling him. We, the other students,
are just sitting at our tables... watching him get interviewed on television.
Then after the interview he walks away, followed by the camera crew.
Class ends and we all
just kind of wander out into the hallway. I wander down the hallway and
I notice that the tile-floored, and locker-walled hallway suddenly turns
into a bigger hallway with red industrial carpet and white drywall... with
areas with giant wall windows that look out into a vast indoor pool - it
is one of the sports and recreation buildings from my college campus. I
am back at college... but it is still the here and now. I wander to one
of the doors that leads to the pool. I see that instead of opening to the
pool, it has a long hallway that stretches way down... and then opens up
to the pool. The hallway is crowded with people that were in the art class.
We are all waiting in line to get into the pool. I realize that the hallway
looks a lot like the old entrance to the club Twilo in NYC (a club I used
to be a doorman at). All the people waiting to get in remind me of people
waiting to get into the club, that I have allowed past the door. Suddenly
I see the "swimmer star" kid being ushered past everyone in line - to the
front. All the other students are talking to him and congratulating him...
cheering him on... he is raising his fists in the air and smiling past
everyone.
I finally get into
the pool area. It looks just like it did in college... except all us students
are waiting on this weird balcony/stair thing and looking out over the
pools. It is day time and the daylight is beaming in through the massive
window walls that reach very high up to the ceiling. Everything is echo-y.
Up above us are the teachers from the art class... plus some other faculty
and judges... they are sitting on these raised platforms in these things
that look like thrones... it looks very formal and regal. I see all
of us crowded up against the edge of the balcony looking out over the pool.
Everyone is excited about the competition. I see the swimmer star is amongst
us... looking out over the balcony too. Suddenly I see one girl in our
crowd, an overweight blond girl in a white sweater... she is pulling out
a joint and smoking it. She is passing the joint around to other people.
I suddenly get filled with this feeling of dread and apprehension. For
some reason I become very paranoid that if someone sees me smoking a joint
on the premises... I will get in a lot of trouble or something bad will
happen. I also suddenly realize that I am a "new" student here... and no
one really knows me yet. I am conflicted with whether to take the joint
and make an impression on my peers... but possibly make a "bad" impression
with the school, or vice versa. These are very childish feelings... but
for some reason I am having them in the dream. I start to even get paranoid
that someone will smell the marijuana and look towards the balcony and
see me near the smell... and thing I am the one with the joint. I'm getting
overly paranoid.
Suddenly... time has
passed at the school... it is the next day. A terrible scandal has happened.
A student was found with a joint at the swim meet and is going to be expelled.
I don't know who the student is yet... but I fear that it might be me!
Suddenly I find out, and see, that it was the "swimmer star" student who
was found with (or blamed for?) the joint. He is being expelled and his
swimming career is over. Everyone is upset.
Then a total scenario
shift: I am in some country atmosphere. For some reason I think I may be
in the French countryside, or maybe the United States midwest. It seems
like early fall... or late winter... all plants and grass are brown...
but the weather is wet and warm. I seem to live in this really great A-frame
house with Jim. It is like a house that we have talked about living
in before... that we would love. It's kind of a nice "hippie" style house.
I seem to get the impression that I may be getting ready to "leave" soon
to go back to either Texas or New york... for some reason. I look over
at Jim at one point and he seems to have changed into my brother,
or maybe a random selection of my male friends. He keeps changing
who he is.
I go outside into the
yard. I see that there are other houses around us, divided by an old fashioned
fence made out of natural logs. I look over and I see this very small rainbow
in the yard next to us. The sun is shining through the wet (morning dew?)
air and causing a perfect rainbow that makes a total arch completely contained
within the yard next to us. It starts on one end and goes all the way up
and then down and lands about thirty feet to the right - a perfect small,
real rainbow. I look out at the area behind our house and see something
weird... it is a perfect mirror reflection of the rainbow I am looking
at. There is a girl standing in front of the rainbow wearing jeans, boots
with leg warmers and a big colorful sweater. She has brown, curled hair
and lip gloss on. There is a horse behind her eating grass. She and the
horse are under the rainbow, in front of it. I say out into the air: "I
have never seen such a small, perfect rainbow that has a mirror reflection
of itself!"
2/24/03:
I am a filmmaker and
I have shot a film starring Courtney Love. The film was shot a few
years ago and now it is being released... after all this time, for some
reason. Apparently Courtney was acting all wild and out of control on the
set of the film while it was being done (and also had very short hair),
but now she has changed and is much calmer and wants to have a more dignified
image (and has longer hair)... so at all the press junkets for the film
she is talking about how she has "changed".
Then a total scenario
shift: I seem to be on this massive, massive house boat (it's like a gigantic,
three story victorian house that floats on the water) that is streaming
steadily down what looks like the Mississippi River. It is daytime. The
cast of the FOX TV show "That 70's Show" is on the boat with me.
The place is so huge that everyone has their own room and bathroom and
there are lots of big balconies or whatever - there's lots of space. I
am with the one red-headed girl on the show and she is talking about how
she "can't wait" to have sex with her boyfriend, on the show, on New Year's
Eve. It's hard to tell if I'm actually hanging out with the actors or am
on an episode of the show. Sometimes I hear a laugh track.
Suddenly... I notice
that our big house boat has a Captain... he is a very rough and rugged
looking guy that looks like an action movie hero - kind of a Steve McQueen
type. He is very worried because our boat seems to be being followed occasionally
by these "savages" in long canoes that run along the side of the house
boat and shoot us with arrows and guns and spears. It turns out that these
"savages" are actually local Mexicans (of whatever state we must be floating
through) that don't like out house boat coming down the Mississippi River
for some reason. The Captain is very worried that the "savages" will eventually
reach the back of our boat with their canoes and paddles... then all climb
onto the boat and kill us all with hatchets. The Captain is running around
the boat, all covered in black engine grease, and yelling instructions
at us like "Man ho!" and "Batten the hatches may-tees!" and stuff like
that. We are all just standing around like "Huh?" None of us seem worried
at all. Sometimes in the dream it seems like I WAS the Captain.
Suddenly the Captain
has an epiphany... he realizes that the way the boat-fulls of savages keep
appearing out of nowhere and running along side out boat is that they are
hiding behind these little islands that are in the middle of the river
occasionally... and as soon as we pass one that pop out and follow us.
The Captain seems to this this is really important. The "camera" in my
dream moves in up close on his sweaty, black grease face and he says...
with a wild look in his eye; "Of course!"
2/25/03:
No dreams.
2/26/03:
No dreams again.
2/27/03:
Nope.
2/28/03:
I am driving in some
unknown place at night. It looks like it might be the northeastern US coastline...
like New England or something. The thing is, is that there is a terrible
snowfall... like a total blizzard. I am driving through the thick snow
and cannot see two feet in front of me. It's pretty dangerous and I'm driving
along and wondering if I will be able to get wherever I'm going.
Suddenly I'm "home"
- wherever that is. It seems to be very early the next morning. I am still
in the New England-like area. The sun is shining brightly on the snow covering
everything. I am in a big house. It appears to be Bryan's house,
for some reason - he seems to live there. I am hanging out in the guest
house, on the property, with Julianne Moore. She has her red hair
pulled back in a ponytail. Apparently Bryan is on his way back to the house
(having run out to get something) and he is going to interview Julianne
on video camera for something. Julianne and I are sitting on the oriental-carpeted
floor of the guest house... with the sunlight shining in through the windows...
reflecting off the snow... the birds are chirping. The whole thing has
that awful early morning energy... all tense and bright and headache-y.
Julianne seems very, very nervous about the interview. I tell her "Don't
worry! People's heads always seem smaller on TV! Look at how Oprah looked
when Bryan interviewed her!" Julianne laughs nervously. I have a pill container
with Clonazepam pills in it. I offer her one so she can calm down before
the interview. She seems hesitant but says yes. I tell her to take it now
so it can get into her system in time for the interview.
Then a total scenario
shift: I am at my apartment in NYC. It looks very different, and other
people seem to live in the building. There's one guy there that looks like
my old college friend - hmmmmmmm - can't remember his name. He also looks
like the actor
David Edwin Knight. At one point... we seem to all
be looking out into the "back yard" of the old tenant building. It is very
different than it really looks. It seems to be this massive rock-scape...
like a landscape with cliffs and rock formations and giant boulders and
stuff. At one point... we are "far away" from my apartment building...
like perched up on another faraway rooftop... looking at my building from
a distance. It looks very strange... my building is just one tiny little
building under what looks like a massive bridge. It looks like the
underside of the bridge is almost a half a mile above the roof of my building...
which is a six story building. There are massive pipes going up and down
the bridge columns. It is dusk so everything is cast in dark shadows...
with little lit golden light windows in the buildings everywhere. The scene
is so massive, that you can actually see "atmosphere" clouds under the
bridge. I tell my friends that it looks beautiful... like a painting.
Then suddenly, we seem
to be in the "back yard" of my building. It is dusk... we are rock climbing
on all the weird rocks behind the building. All the rocks are gray and
black in the dusk light. We have ropes and everything. We seem to be trying
to get back to the back of my building... like we're kind of trapped amongst
all the rocks. We are going from rock to rock... trying to figure out a
plan. At one point my old college friend is leading us onto this really
tall, rickety formation of rocks... up to the top of it. I am really unsure
of the stability of the formation... and don't like being on top of it...
I feel like it's going to crumble and cause me to fall. Somehow we get
off of it and back into the building. The inside is a bunch of big rooms
all lit up with brass lamps - golden light. We are all sitting in a giant
hot tub that has no water in it. More people are coming into the building...
there's a party. I realize I'm attracted to my old college friend, but
he is straight... so I try not to be too obnoxious about it.