Mark Allen's Dream Journal - September, 2004
*note: Date of dream entry refers to day before,the date of the night I went to sleep and the dream I had into the next day's date.9/3/04
I seem to be in a strange, alternate version of NYC. It is always nighttime. I am going to the apartment of an old friend I have not seen in over a decade, Ray. I arrive at his building and go inside. The inside is all cream/white, painted drywall with gray industrial carpet. There are fake art deco light fixtures in the hallways. The doors to all the apartments, which are a darker cream color than the rest of the hallway, all have old fashioned "clunk" door chime/peephole things on them. Each door also has a little lit doorbell on the side, like you would see on the outside of a house door. The building looks very old, like it's been decorated to look new but underneath all the paint and new light fixtures it is really an antique. The air also seems slightly old. Everything is kind of dim too.
I arrive at Ray's door, which is right outside one of the elevators (on an upper floor), right on the edge corner of the hallway. I am nervous to see Ray after not seeing him for so long. I jiggle the clink-clunk doorbell thing on his front door, and suddenly the door just swings open. I expect to see Ray inside but all I see is the dark foyer hallway of the apartment. The door seems really heavy, and maybe on a hinge thing that would slam it shut if no one was holding it open. The door is only open about two feet and I get the sense that Ray is standing behind it, holding it open, hiding. It's kind of spooky because the apartment is dark. I kind of walk towards the door and am like "Ray? Ray... hello?" and as I do, the door continues to creak open, like there really is someone behind it hiding. I also, without entering the apartment, sense that the apartment is completely empty, moved-out of. Ray is long gone, and there isn't even any electricity in the apartment. I get the sense that if I were to walk in, it would be this spooky, dark apartment of dark empty room after dark empty room, with just slits of moving light shining through the blinds from the traffic lights outside. The sense that no one lives there, and Ray is gone, but that someone is hiding behind the door, is very disturbing and frightening.
Suddenly a subtle scenario shift: I am in the same hallway, standing in front of yet another open apartment doorway. For some reason I know that I am visiting some elderly man that I come and take care of sometimes (but I have no idea who it is - he only seems to exist in the dream). I don't even know what he looks like. His door is open in the same way Ray's was down the hall. I think he has opened it and will appear out from behind it soon, but he never does. It's weird... like his door keeps opening and opening, and the open doorway kind of "sinks" backwards like it's trying to pull my gaze behind the door to see him. I keep saying "Sir! Sir! Im here to take you for a walk! Sir... are you there?" and I keep craning my neck forwards into the open doorway trying to see him. Beyond the door, where he should be, it is very dim and hard to make out. He says nothing but I know he's there. It's like my eyes can't focus beyond the doorway too... and for a second I think I see the edge of a show and maybe a cane coming into view.
Then a total scenario shift: I have suddenly traveled from that spooky building in NYC all the way to Plano, Texas. I somehow know that I took a train, during the night, all that way... and that it was a short trip. I am at Collin Creek Mall, in Plano... it is nighttime outside. The mall is very crowded, and looks a little different than when I used to hang out there as a child and teenager. For some reason, I know that I had talked to a friend on my cellphone and told him that I would meet him in a certain place in the mall at a certain time. I don't know who the friend is. I walk around, since I'm kind of early. I roam around the food court, and see that there are brand new stores and things in spots where I fondly remember other places I used to hang out at. But I see that some things are amazingly still there. I am amazed to find a totally functional steam locomotion train that runs through the mall and transports shoppers from store to store. I see that there are train tracks embedded into the floor on both levels of the mall... and that the giant train just runs on them even though people are walking right in it's path. Nobody seems to get run over somehow. I am standing at the area I supposed to meet my friend. I am on the second level. Suddenly, a giant steam locomotion engine train whizzes mere inches from me. It's steam blows up in my face and it's giant brake levers screech. I am amazed that something so massive and fast can just whizz through the crowd like that. As I look at people getting onto and off of the stopped train, I suddenly turn and see another giant train headed right for me, coming from the other direction. It seems that I am standing on yet another track right next to the one the first train came on. I jump out of the way in a total panic. No one else seems bothered and they all just get on the train like it's totally normal.
I'm just standing there in disbelief at the new dangerous train system at the mall that no one seems to mind, and I look down on the floor and see this long, rectangular opening, that is lit up inside, like it's an opening to a room in the floor (even through there is another level of the mall under this floor). I somehow know that my friend lives down in that room. I crouch down and squeeze myself through the opening and down into the room, which is actually a concrete stairwell with white drywall walls and a bare light bulb in the ceiling. The stairs lead down to another similar room. My friend who I don't know is there (I can't really see his face), and he's leading me around. I notice he's carrying a beer and a cigarette. I see that he has put a bunch of cut out magazine pictures on different places on the wall. Suddenly, I am leaving the weird little lit cubbyhole in the floor. I have gone up the stairwell and am trying to get out of the rectangular hole in the floor, back out into the mall. It seems to be much skinnier than it was when I went through it before. The edges of it are made of concrete... but when I squeeze through them I see that they are actually made of styrofoam that is made to look like concrete, so I am able to squeeze through it. I am once again amazed that a something ordinary like a doorway into part of the mall is so difficult and kind of dangerous, but that it seems normal to all these people in the new Collin Creek Mall (like the trains).
Then suddenly I am outside the mall, still in Plano. I seem to be somewhere in some lush park connected to a glass office building. It is very late at night and there are weeping willow trees around. I am alone, no one is around, and I can see the train that will take me back to NYC parked at some tracks kind of off in the distance. I know that the train will wait for me to take me back home. Suddenly a car pulls up in the parking lot of the office/park. Out of the car get Lady Bunny and Raven O. They are here from NYC to do a show in this empty park in the middle of the night, even though no one is around... for some reason. I know that they just drove here all the way from NYC, just now, to do this show. They get out and start dancing around the park and laughing, even though there is no music. The wind is rustling all the green leaves making a whooshing sound everywhere. I look over at a small, young tree (a weeping willow I think) and see that it's long, flimsy branches are blowing in the wind in the same way a sea anemone or moss's branches or arms flow under water. They almost seem to be waving to me. As I am looking at them I see off in the distance that it is starting to become dawn. I get really excited because I realize that Big Lake Park is near where I am. I don't know whether to go visit Big Lake Park or get on the train and go back to NYC. Even if I wanted to go to Big Lake Park, how would I get there?
9/4/04
No dreams.
9/5/04
I am in the same room from the 8/804 and 8/21/04 dream. Outside it is daytime and overcast and windy. In the room with me is Llewelyn Sinclair, the drama teacher character from the episode of "The Simpsons," when Marge got a part in the local production of "A Streetcar Named Desire." He is in animated form, and is just sitting at a table. Suddenly he transforms into the animated form of Mr. Magoo. Then he changes back again. Suddenly I then sense that the entire room, or building, is starting to move... like it's a train on a track.
9/6/04
No dreams.
9/7/04
I seem to be in NYC, in an area that looks like the West Village or maybe even Soho... although it looks like a weird, alternate version of NYC. It is nighttime and I am walking around downtown with a friend I don't recognize. I have a vague memory of arriving downtown on the Hudson River, via some kind of motorboat. We docked somewhere down by Battery Park or something and walked over to this part of town. For some reason, I know that I have a gift certificate for some really expensive boutique where they do hair and manicures and sell designer clothes and exotic clothes and stuff. I don't know how I got it, but I know the store is a place I would never shop at. Plus I think they only sell stuff for women.
I am wandering around trying to find the boutique. I finally find it, and it is this weird storefront that is raised high up off the sidewalk, made of concrete and black marble, and has no windows. The front door is kind of on the second floor, which is just up in the air with no stairs or anything. There is a slight ledge by the door that if you can get on, you can get in the boutique. There are also some searchlights by the door. I look up and see some black woman in a business suit with short skirt and heels, and with long, curly hair, kind of climbing up the ledge and getting into the door.
Suddenly I find myself inside the boutique, and I am in a long room with dim lighting, black industrial carpet and black marble walls. It seems to be the room where they give manicures. I decide to use my gift certificate to get a manicure, even though it will only be the second one I ever get in my life. My friend, who is still with me, just looks around the store while I get my manicure. The woman giving me the manicure is black, and looks a little like the woman I saw climbing up the ledge to get into the store. Although her appearance keeps changing... sometimes she looks like an old Mexican woman in a white smock. I am wondering if the manicure is going to be really amazing and fantastic, because everything at this boutique is so expensive and exclusive. As she is doing all the parts of the manicure she is explaining to me what she is doing. At one point, she seems to be painting some kind of clear nail polish onto my nails with her pinkie fingertip. She is moving very slowly and carefully, concentrating a lot. At one point, I look down at my hand and see that she is using her fingers to rub this very dark black ink-like stiff all over my fingernails and fingertips. My hands look completely black, not like a black person's skin, but like they have been painted black with dark black paint. She keeps massaging the color into my fingers using her thumb and forefinger, pressing really hard, and saying "Theeerrreee... doesn't that feel gooooooood?" and she's right... it does... it feels like she's massaging my hands and it feels great, even though she's rubbing in some black ink or whatever.
Then the manicure seems to be winding down, and my hands are their normal color again. I look at my nails and they look really good I guess, but I don't really see the point of manicures. I start to kind of panic because I wonder if the manicure is over $100, because that's all my gift certificate is for, and I don't have any money. I think I picture myself riding on the boat again, away from NYC, and looking at my nails.
Then a kind of scenario shift: I seem to still be in the store somewhere, in another long room with the same decor and lighting, but this room seems to be a lounge or bar. The have keroke, and for some reason I have decided to go up to the stage and sing. My friend is somewhere in the crowd and is egging me on to go. I go up and take the microphone and stand on the dark carpet. I suddenly realize that I am a very overweight black woman, wearing a business suit with a short skirt and heels, and with shoulder-length, curly hair kind of pulled up to one side with a barrette and dark panty hose on. My short skirt looks kind of funny because of my weight. I don't know why I have transformed into this person. I lay on the floor on my back, and hold the microphone up to my mouth and just start to sing. I just start kind of singing parts of songs and free associating lyrics, and I seem to be doing pretty well. I hear the people in the bar clapping. Every time I change a song the music being played over the sound system kind of changes with me and matches.
- That's it for that month.