9/1/02:
Actually had a strange
kind of nightmare last night:
I am observing what
looks like an animated cartoon television show. Sometimes the show is animated
and sometimes it appears to be in real life. In it, there is what looks
like an old man dressed in some kind of military uniform... or he may actually
be in a janitor's uniform with a bucket on his head as a helmet. He is
carrying a mop - but he is carrying it as you would a rifle. He is inside
a very large room made of large gray concrete bricks - like the type you
would see the bare walls of a basement made out of. The ceiling of the
room is very, very high - I'd say like three stories. My "dream camera
eye" is placed way up high on the ceiling... and I am looking down on everything.
The room appears to be a cross between a high school gymnasium and a very
large utility closet. There are random shelves or things against the wall
here and there... but they get lost in the room's huge size. I also think
that one half of the room's ceiling is slanted - like a half of a barn
or something. There are no windows and the place is lit by huge fluorescent
lights on the ceiling that buzz and hum.
The old man appears
to be a night security guard at whatever this place is. I get the impression
that it is very, very late at night and no one is in the large, cavernous
building (of which this is only one room) except for him. I get the impression
that the man is very old and is just given this job because he has nothing
else to do. The people in the town gave it to him so he would feel important...
but deep down inside the man knows it's just a pity job. The man I think
is a war veteran or ex-military type. So he goes from room to room in his
mock-military/janitor outfit pretending he's in the war... doing military
marches from room to room, saluting coat racks like they are generals and
looking for "the enemy" in teacher's supply closets and stuff. It's kind
of sad and he is very lonely that he has to do this every night. It's like
this charade he goes through to keep himself from getting depressed.
So anyway, he's in
this big room... and it's like 3AM or something. He hears a noise in a
closet against the side wall of the room. I get the impression that this
is the first time he has actually heard a noise in all the years he has
worked here. For some reason he looses the whole "military act" thing and
kind of slowly slumps over to the closet door. Then he does something very
strange. He just flings the door open and looks inside and says "Sorry
Mr. _____________ I didn't mean to disturb you." in this really flat tone
of voice. I don't remember who Mr. ______________ is, or the name he said...
but apparently this is the old man's boss. For some reason the old man
thought that, instead of an intruder, the person inside the closet was
Mr. ____________, his boss. Hiding from the old man. This seems totally
nuts... I mean what would his boss be doing in that closet at 3AM and why
wouldn't the man think it's an intruder?
As the old man opens
the door to the closet... my "camera eye" kind of zooms in from the ceiling
and... wait... there IS someone sitting down on the far end of the closet...
wrapped in a blanket... with a bucket on their head. Wow! Maybe his boss
IS in there! How weird. The old man seems resigned to the whole situation,
like it really is his boss in there and this happens all the time. But
as my "camera eye" zooms in... it is revealed that the "person" crouched
down at the back of the closet is not a person at all... just a mop propped
upside down up against the wall with a bucket on top of it and a blanket
wrapped around it to LOOK like a person trying to hide. The old man goes
back there and lifts the sheet away. He is surprised and a little scared
now. What made the noise?
Just then... the "camera
eye" pulls back again and I see the old man from way overhead. He is looking
around the room. I suddenly hear the howling wind outside the room, outside
the building. It is causing the concrete walls to rattle and moan. The
man looks around the room and realizes how totally alone he is. He realizes
that the whole town is asleep in the darkness outside and this little scary
weird moment was all in his head. Also as the "camera" pulls back I see
something weird. Next to this big room is an EXACTLY identical gym with
high ceiling room - everything in it is backwards though. Like a mirror
image. It's like the closet is a mirror and behind it is the reflection
of the room and the man - but in real life, not a reflection. It is like
an alternate universe of this man's situation. I see that there is an identical
old man in the military/janitor costume standing in the identical room...
holding the closet door open. The only thing NOT identical in the alternate
reality... is the closet connecting the two rooms. There is only one closet
and in the center of the closet is the fake mop and bucket and blanket
person that fooled the man... only one of them. These objects, the fake
person that startled the old man, and what they represent, seem to be a
conduit or portal to the alternate universe... where maybe things are a
little bit different.
The "camera" stays
way back up on the ceiling and I am looking at the two alternate universes
there... both old men in both huge rooms (unaware of each other), feeling
lonely and freaked out a little... the closet in the middle and the fake
pile of mop and blanket in the middle. The dark night wind starts howling
again and I realize the man feels very lonely and hopeless. The whole thing
fills me with this awful feeling of dread and mild horror, and the feeling
of something bad about to happen. It's very disturbing.
9/2/02:
No dreams.
9/3/02:
I live in this weird hybrid of Dave Doorknob's childhood house. It's like his house but everything is shifted around - and seems to be under construction. There is bare dry wall and sheets of painting tarps and maybe small scaffolding everywhere. I seem to live in the house with Guillaume and Gregory. We are all in the kitchen and Gregory is making some tea in the microwave. There is a counter island in the middle of the kitchen - filled with clutter. I am looking at an M. C. Escher framed print on one of the walls. Apparently it is part of some new M. C. Escher CD-ROM that you can buy. I look at the print and see that it is moving - like animation. It looks like four human figures moving a giant slab of stone across the ground by putting rolling sticks underneath it - like the Egyptian slaves supposedly moved the rocks to build the ancient pyramids. I realize that the "cartoon" was not drawn by Escher himself, but by other people who made the CD-ROM. It was drawn in the style of Escher - to advertise the CD-ROM. this makes me a little pissed off for some reason.
9/4/02:
I'm in some master control room. It is very high tech. It's like control central for a television station or something. I am in there with Gregory. There are other people in the room too but I hardly remember them. Gregory is sitting in a chair behind a huge TV screen. The screen has a series of horizontal lines on it that are different colors. Sometimes there are just a few lines, that are very thick - and sometimes there a millions of lines that are very thin. Also sometimes the lines are actually lines of text. Gregory is typing onto a computer key pad in front of the TV screen. I seem to be reciting things to him... and he is typing them in a certain sequence. We seem to be attempting to accomplish something - I feel like we're rushed... like we're trying to beat the clock or something. Suddenly the big screen in front of Gregory goes *bloooop...* off. It pops off - dead... with that little white dot at the center. We either didn't beat the clock or we overloaded it. Gregory puts his hands up in the air and laughs and turns around in his swivel chair.
9/5/02:
I dreamed that Jim
and I had spent the night in my parent's bed (at a house we lived in a
long time ago in Plano, Texas). It was the morning and I think they were
coming home (I guess they had been out all night or on vacation) and we
were getting up and putting our clothes on and straightening up their room.
There seemed to be no problem with us sleeping in their bed.
Then a total scenario
shift: I seem to be living in a cartoon. I think it is a cross between
The
Simpsons and Futurama. There is this strange reality in the
dream - like I am watching an episode of this show on TV... but also kind
of "in" the show in a weird way. Sometimes the action changes from animation
to real life and then back again. The "plot" seems to involve something
about a crying animated cartoon woman who asked someone for help about
something with her eyes. This character has a voluptuous body and big,
long, ginger-colored hair. Her head is always down and she is always crying
and you can see blue-colored tears running out of her face. She asks some
character (who seems like an army general or the captain of a fleet of
space ships or something like that) to go do something or get something
to stop her eyes from crying. There seems to be some significance attached
to doing this... like her eyes have a curse placed on them or maybe her
whole race of people on her home planet are cursed with this non-stop crying
- something like that... a typical sci-fi plot conflict scenario. I seem
to be a character who is under the general - who is now on a mission to
help the girl.
Soon we are all on
some fast moving train (still in the cartoon) and we seem to be running
through a southwest America-looking landscape (animated). We are stationed
in these bunk bed areas on one of the cars of the train. Suddenly the general
calls us to the center of the train. We all run there and he tells us we
are about to collide head on with another train that is heading at high
speed in the opposite direction... towards us on the same track. We all
brace ourselves. When we collide with the train it's in a really cartoon-y
way... like there is an explosion and everyone is thrown around but no
one is hurt at all. After the smoke clears away from the impact of the
two trains colliding (from the outside)... the "camera" pulls away and
reveals that the two trains are now tied in a comical "knot" with a bow
and everything... like the impact caused them to do that - very cartoon-y.
Inside the mangled trains everyone is just standing wherever they can amongst
the twisted and bending cars and hallways... which are running in all direction
(kind of like an M. C. Escher drawing). I think I literally see Marge
Simpson standing amongst the crowd. It appears that the other train
held the crying girl that we were on the mission for. This is like the
"meeting" of the girl and our general (who seems to now have what the girl
needed). The general very formally (almost like a ceremony - everyone is
silently watching) hands the girl (who is sitting down at a wooden desk
with her hair covering her face) the thing she needed. She takes it in
her hand and then slowly the general backs away. The girl starts to slowly
look up. She has a big smile on her face and... as is revealed as her hair
falls away from her face... she has only one big eye... not two (like the
character Leela in Futurama). Her one eye has tears in it. She starts
to laugh this evil laugh and everyone in the car gasps - this is all shocking
for some reason. It turns out the crying one eyed girl is evil and tricked
the general into getting something special for her... which she will now
use to try and conquer the universe or something.
9/6/02:
I am in Los Angeles
- in the day time. I am in some lush suburban neighborhood, in some woman's
garage helping to fix some piece of machinery - like an outboard motor
or something. The garage door is open and there are a few of us in there
- we all seem to have been hired to help this woman. Suddenly we all hear
something that sounds like a burglar alarm nearby. We all stop and look
up and are like "Whoa!" - even the woman - because it sounds like it's
coming from the woman's house. We all run out of the garage and to different
parts of the house - on the outside. There is green grass and palm trees
and white stone walls and sunlight everywhere. We're all running around
in groups.
I run to what I think
is part of the woman's back yard... but I seem to have run into her next
door neighbor's back yard. For some reason, I know that the neighbor is
this kind-of short, bodybuilder gay guy who lives alone. I am standing
in what looks like a fenced-off section of his yard. The fence is very
high and made of fresh pine wood (?) There is an abandoned swimming pool
in there that has no water... but is filled with machinery that has gages
and meters and pipes - like the kind of stuff the electric guy comes to
check every month - tons of it - and it's all working. There are also overgrown
weeds growing up through the bottom of the pool up through the machinery.
The whole area seems over grown and unkempt - weeping willow trees reaching
over the fence and piles of dead crepe myrtle flowers blowing across the
cracked concrete - the sound of crickets. I walk around the pool to a door
in the fence on the other side of the fenced-in area. I walk through that
door. There is another weird abandoned pool area. Except this one has fresh
cut grass and seems more up kept.
Suddenly I realize
I have been with Gregory this whole time. We look around the pool
area. The pool is very odd... it has no water in it... and it has this
strange black metal and glass sculptural thing on it that covers the whole
top of the pool - right on the edge so you can't even get in the pool (there's
no water anyway). The black metal things goes at all kinds of straight
angles (like the angles of a giant cut diamond) and has all these glass
windows. You can see into the empty concrete pool through the glass parts
of the sculpture thing. Gregory gets on one side of the sculpture/pool
and sits down next to it - facing it. I get down on the other side and
sit down too - facing it. We can see each other through two windows of
the sculpture glass.
Suddenly we are very
close - but still separated by the glass (like the sculpture/pool thing
shrunk in width). We are facing each other through the glass and talking
about everything that just happened. Our voices are semi-muffled because
there are two panes of glass between us, but still out in the open air.
Suddenly, as we are talking, I realize that my penis is on my chin... like
that's where it comes out of... and like that's where it comes out of and
has my entire life and it's not unusual. My penis just sticks straight
out from my chin. There is no pubic hair or testicles... just my penis.
As I talk it bounces up and down. It's really weird... as I'm talking to
Gregory I'm stroking it like you would stroke your beard while talking
or contemplating something. This of course stimulates it and it starts
to get pudgy. I can feel the blood rushing to my chin area and mouth as
this happens - like it's all tingly. I can caress the skin on my chin and
my lips and neck and even roll my tongue around in my mouth and it feels
like I'm stroking my penis - very odd - like all the nerves are connected
and when I get an erection (on my chin penis) the immediate area is affected
too. As I am talking to Gregory (still through the glass) I start
to say stuff like "Isn't it weird how our penises are on are chins and
all?" and "It's like they are just out in the open the whole time... what
if we get erections?" This is even though Gregory doesn't have a chin penis
at all - his face looks normal. Meanwhile my chin penis is getting harder
and harder and bigger and bigger and I get stroking it and talking to Gregory.
Soon my hand is cupped around it and it's a full raging hard on and I'm
just pumping it really hard and my entire face feels all "tingly" and I
start to stop talking and shut my eyes and start to kind of moan and try
to talk at the same time... it's like I am going to come. I picture squirting
my come on the glass separating Gregory and I before I do. I feel kind
of weird doing this in front of Gregory but since my penis is on my chin
I get the impression this is "normal" behavior... still I am conflicted
though. Gregory has stopped talking and is watching me about to climax.
I am in a trance... pumping my raging hard-on chin penis really hard with
my eyes half closed from the pleasure... and moaning and going "Ah-yah-yah-yah-yah..."
slap-slap-slap and trying to come. It must look really disturbing and twisted.
But before I can come..
we hear a noise in the first abandoned pool area we saw. I immediately
stop stroking my chin penis and we bet really quiet and kind of get down.
It's the short bodybuilder gay guy! He's investigating the burglar alarm...
which stopped ringing a while ago. For some reason I now know that it was
HIS house that had the alarm going off. What will he do when he finds us...
two strangers... in his back yard? Will he think we are burglars? Will
we be able explain that we thought it was the woman that we were working
for's alarm and while investigating accidentally walked into his yard and
decided to just "hang out" for a while? I start to get really self conscious
about my chin penis - which is now pudgy and post-erection soft. My face
still feels tingly. Will the bodybuilder guy have a chin penis? Does anybody
but me? Why do I feel like it's normal if no one else has one? I am really
embarrassed that if the bodybuilder guy comes back here that he will see
that I had an erection. I start to try and think of stuff that will make
my hard-on go away... like dead puppies or my grandparents.
9/7/02:
No dreams.
9/8/02:
There is some situation where I'm laying on a couch - very tired (I may be in my own apartment). I think there is a presence of a blond woman in a beige business suit in the room somewhere. I am laying on the couch and I keep nodding off because I am so tired. For some reason I am aware of these brightly colored little tiny stuffed animal-looking things that are being placed around my face - like in a circle. They look like little bean bags or those little stuffed toy mice you can buy in pet stores for cats to play with. Someone - or something, is placing them in a circle around my face while I nod in and out of sleep. Each little bean bag is a different color. I soon realize that each bean bag has a colored ribbon attached to it. When all the bean bags are done being placed in a circle around my head... whoever was putting them there then takes each one and places directly across from where it was, on the other side of my head. This causes all the ribbons to criss cross across my face. I "wake up" in the dream (a fake wake up) and see there are no ribbons or bean bags. I get freaked out because I know that the next step in the process was going to be to follow the lines set by the ribbons with a razor and slice my face. Someone was going to come into my apartment and slice up my face using the lines set by the ribbons - that was the next step. I get really freaked out. I am "awake" in the dream now (and it seems to be daytime) in my apartment. I get up and look through the peephole in the front door to see if anyone is out there. Then I woke up for real. Very creepy.
9/9/02:
No dreams.
9/10/02:
No dreams
9/11/02:
Too busy today to record dreams.
9/12/02:
I was in some fantastic
building that had all kinds of levels and stuff. It was like a giant library
I think. Outside the sun was shining and it looked like it might have been
a college campus. I seem to be in the library looking for something specific.
I get the impression that this is the "last day" of something... like the
last day of school - it has that energy.
There was something
at some point where I was looking for some giant art book that had this
print of a painting of a woman with long red hair, sitting nude by a river.
I think I found the book and then took it with me to go into the bathroom.
I got into the bathroom and the stalls were in this weird configuration...
all the walls of them were twisted around in some maze. There almost seemed
to be people "trapped" in them or something... but really casually. I just
left.
Then suddenly I am
outside the giant building... behind it. There is a giant courtyard...
like the size of a football field. There are some concrete walls and concrete
benches... some ramps leading up to the building... it's very "open air"
and the sun is shining brightly on all the concrete. I seem to be lying
on this wide concrete wall/plaza/walkway thing that separates another kind
of long walkway that looks down onto the courtyard. There are a lot of
people lounging on the wall... it's very wide so you can just lay on it.
I have headphones on connected to a CD player and am laying backwards with
the sun on my face. There are lots of people all over the courtyard. I
get the impression that it may be kind of early morning. As I'm kind of
laying there chilling out, I notice that there are a lot of homeless beggars
around on the long walkway... on both sides of the wall. As people walk
by the homeless put their hands out. I notice that some look like European
gypsy women, some look like american city punk squatters, some look like
Bowery bums... there's like a whole spectrum of homeless people and the
whole walkway seems to almost be like a weird "trade show" that showcases
all the different ways people can beg for money on the streets. I look
around and notice that all the people laying on the wall are beggars too.
This must have happened gradually while I had my eyes closed and was listening
to music. I just lay there amongst al the homeless. Pretty soon more and
more normal people start walking by and looking at all the homeless people
and giving them money if they think the presentation they give is good
enough. It really is like a trade show... or a freak show or a parade of
begging or something... weird. Pretty soon this pudgy woman with short
poofy hair (that white middle American 'do' that a lot of middle aged suburban
moms have) comes over to me and starts looking me up and down. I open my
eyes and click off my CD player. She has tight acid washed jeans on with
weird pleats, a fanny pack, big glasses and maybe a backpack too. She is
like "Hey come over here and look at this guy!" to whoever she is with.
She is holding her face like five inches from my body and scanning it up
and down going "Mmmm... mmmhmmm... okay... mmmhmmm..." then she keeps looking
at my face and then looking all around me. Finally she looks at me and
says "Okay there is no reason to give you money... you aren't homeless!"
and then she walks away with her friend... I think to look at the homeless
person next to me. I shut my eyes and continue listening to music. Pretty
soon I decide to collect my things and leave.
As I get up to go...
I see the poofy haired woman who was just looking at me walking over to
me with some kind of security woman. The security person looks like a traffic
ticket writer. The poofy haired woman says "There! There he is! The guy
running the scam!" and the ticket writer (who seems to be under the woman's
control) has her ticket pad out and is writing in it and says "Um... okay...
sir... um, okay... you are being given a ticket for running a scam to collect
money and exploiting the true needs of others... um, yes... uh-huh." and
she keeps looking at the poofy hair woman for approval as she is talking.
It's weird... you can tell the security woman is not confident of what
she is doing... but is being egged on by the poofy haired woman. The poofy
haired woman looks at me and says "That's right! Now you have a court date
and you have to show up! I'll be there! What's your name?" and she puts
her hand out to shake mine like she wants to meet me. I just look at both
of them and am like "Huh? I'm not homeless... and I don't want to meet
you whoever you are." and I start to walk away. The poofy haired woman
then says really cockily and evil-y... "Oh you have to meet me now! I went
through the proper channels and I reported you to security and you must
show up for your court date! I suggest you give me your phone number!"
I just ignore her and walk away. The security woman (being pushed by the
poofy haired woman) follows me and puts the ticket in my coat pocket. She
says "Your court date is in two weeks and you must show up here to represent
yourself!" and the poofy haired woman yells at me "The choice was yours
to be nice to me! See you in court! I don't get mad I get even!" as I walk
away.
Soon I am walking through
the library to go out the front exit. I somehow know that I indeed have
to show up to the court date to defend myself against the bizarre charges.
I'm totally pissed about it. Suddenly I pass the poofy haired woman and
a group of her friends that are all talking amongst themselves. They all
look similar. The poofy haired woman is telling them about taking me to
court. Suddenly she sees me and says to the "Shhh! Shhhh! There he is don'tlook-don'tlook...
don'tturnaround... lookatme lookatme!" and then she starts fake talking
to all of them like she had been talking about something else the whole
time. I just walk past them.
9/13/02:
I'm in some strange
neighborhood that seems to be a hybrid of other places I have lived. I
am staying in a building that has apartments on each level (each level
is it's own apartment). I live there with someone who is always changing.
Sometimes it's Guillaume, sometimes it's Gregory, sometimes
it's someone who I don't know but that has the "feel" of an old childhood
friend - not one in particular just the feel of being one. Across the street
from our building is a house that looks a lot like a house I grew up in
as a small child in Plano, Texas... the neighborhood even looks like that
neighborhood - almost exactly. Except the building I live in is on the
lot where my old house was, and the house that is identical is across the
street from where it should be. The neighborhood is beautiful... green
grass... white concrete... flat suburban homes... very few trees... just
like I remember.
The house across the
street keeps changing form... sometimes it seems to have giant glass walls
in the front so you can see inside. I seem to be "in charge" of the house...
like I am watching it for people while they are on vacation. I am always
walking over there and getting mail for them and stuff. I get the impression
that the "people" that live over there are my parents.
Back in my apartment...
I notice that at one point the interior of my apartment looks identical
to a different house I grew up in as a teenager in Plano, Texas. I am in
the house and am on the phone with a massage client. He lives just across
the street and is going to come over for a massage session. He comes over
and is acting very odd. My roommate and I actually just kind of hang out
in the living room (of our apartment which looks like the old house) and
talk. He's acting very strange. Then he leaves without even getting a massage.
My roommate is like "That guy was really odd! What a freak!" Then the guy
calls me back on my phone and says "OK I owe you $50." even though he would
owe me $100, and even though he never got a massage... weird. I say something
like "Uh... okay you don't need to worry about paying me... you just hung
out." He just hangs up and I get a really creeped out feeling from him.
I tell my roommate that I'm afraid he a serial killer and he's going to
come over here and kill us both at some later date.
Then I seem to be going
for a walk with my roommate. We run across some Mexican guy in a beat up
car. The Mexican guy tells us "Did you guys hear about the earthquake in
Mexico? It just happened... 800 people were killed!" I think he might have
said "earthquake" but he might also have said fire or explosion or building
collapse or train wreck or terrorist bomb or something... whatever it was
it was a disaster. We both are like "No... we didn't" and then we kind
of "see" this montage of all the things happening in Mexico right now surrounding
the disaster - in particular a pretty girl looking at a wrought iron gate
and crying.
Then we are suddenly
on a subway system. Apparently the subway system is right below the hybrid
neighborhood I live in. It looks like the subway system in Paris. My roommate
and I are on it and trying to get home... suddenly my roommate is gone
and I am alone on it. The train is so crowded that people are literally
spilling out of the train and into the tunnel... everything is almost jammed
together like a train disaster... the people are so crowded and pushed
up in the tunnel that the trains can't even move. The conductor is like
"Clear the way! Clear the way!" and the train keeps trying to push it's
way though the tunnel crowded with people... crawling a long... I think
it even slowly runs over some people on the track. It's insane. No one
seems to complain... it's like this is normal.
I finally get out of
the tunnel and walk out of the subway entrance... which is right by my
building in the old hybrid neighborhood. I enter the building and walk
up to my apartment. On the way I see the entrance to the apartment below
ours... for some reason I know that this girl I used to know... Cary,
lives there... but is not at home. I get to my apartment and walk in. I
see that my roommate has already been there and is playing a joke on me.
He has two friends with them that have arranged their heads and bodies
to look like they have been decapitated... like with the couch pillows
and stuff. My roommate is sitting askew in one of the chairs and pretending
that he is dead. They even used some fake blood. One of the friend's heads
is in my roommate's hands. It's supposed to look like someone killed them
all... alluding to my fear earlier about the serial killer. They all get
up and laugh.
Then I go outside to
go take care of the house across the street. It's night time and I see
in the house that the TV is on, and has static on the screen... there is
also a post-it note stuck on the front of the screen. The whole thing seems
creepy so I just put the mail on the table and get out of there... as I
do... I see out of the large glass windows that out on the street, under
the street light... is a VW Bug parked in front of my building... inside
the car is the creepy massage client. He is just driving off, and as he
does he is looking up at the building. Very creepy.
I run across the street
and into the building after the car gets away. I tell my roommate "He was
just here! Oh my God what a weird coincidence!" We decide to go "hide"
in the bedroom... which is in the back of the apartment. We are back there
and suddenly it's daytime outside again. we are sitting indian style on
the floor and smoking cigarettes. I am telling my roommate about how great
Texas is... which is where we definitely seem to be. I can see out a large
window in the bedroom the vast, sunny, blue skied Texas landscape. I can't
believe how far you can see into the sunny horizon.
9/14/02:
There was something about these fantastic women inside some giant grocery store... but that's all the details I can remember.
9/15/02:
No dreams.
9/16/02:
No dreams.
9/17/02:
There was something about this able that had chairs around it and there was a watermelon on the table and these men were sitting around it - or maybe there was a watermelon at each chair, sitting in it like a person. There was a watermelon also on the table. I got the impression that the watermelon was cut open - like a circular cut - and the men or other watermelons were "operating" on it like surgery. Also the table arrangement was at the end of this big long extension that was made of concrete... like out in the open air. It looked like a table shouldn't be there. It looked like maybe the rounded off part of the end of the foot of a giant sculpture. Like the toe of the Statue of Liberty (although it wasn't because this was made of concrete). The men or watermelons are just out there... operating on a watermelon on a rickety table, where they shouldn't be, in the high winds.
9/18/02:
I'm once again in some
bizarre, unknown, modern/futuristic-looking city that is unfamiliar. There
were a lot of events that happened in the dream... but only seem to remember
one scenario.
I am at what seems
to be the family house of a young childhood friend, Tim. The time
is now, everyone is grown up... but they all still live in this house for
some reason. The house is very modern... like a "pod" house... it has an
organic shape and very sci-fi looking furniture. I seem to be alone there
with Tim's sister
Tammy. Tim is not there. We seem to be waiting
for their mother to arrive home from work. We are very bored, and
seem to not be able to leave (or at least I don't) until she arrives home.
The living room has all of these strange red carpet arrangements... like
little floor parts that have red carpet on them... with little steps or
tiny split level areas. They are these weird little areas on the floor
that almost seem like empty fountains. Also, each red carpet area seems
to have it's own little vacuum thing that is attached to each area - that
you can kind of pull out of the floor and vacuum the red carpet. As Tammy
is sitting on a stool next to a kitchen counter and talking on the telephone...
I take one of the little vacuums out and start vacuuming the red rug. It
seems like one of those cheap polyester bathroom throw rugs... and there
are little pieces of cracker crumbs on it I am vacuuming up. As I vacuum
it, I imagine Tim's mom walking in the front door holding brown paper grocery
bags.
9/19/02:
There was this weird
thing where this ghost or demon who looked just like Christopher Walken
(or was played by him) kept coming down from the sky and trying to "get"
me. I had the impression that the entity was trying to capture my soul
and send it down to Hell or some horrible fate. I think I was in some modern-looking
suburb of France... lots of new grocery stores and malls and stuff like
that. And wherever I went... the entity would fly down from the sky...
land on the ground... and start coming after me. I got the impression that
if Christopher Walken touched me I would be "zapped" to the bad place...
like a video game. It was very scary, actually like a nightmare, but also
it had this "movie" feel to it... like the whole thing was a TV show or
something. I sometimes got the impression that I was watching The X
Files or something. I remember ay one point I was driving across some
immense wheat field... and as I did I was looking sideways out my window
and I saw the lower half of an old car appear at the "top" of the sky (like
my field of vision was actually a screen) and then start to lower itself
along side me (far away) and also move in the direction of my car, parallel
and at the same speed. It was the Christopher Walken evil entity coming
for me... again!
Another time I was
in what might have been in a university building in France (hardwood floors,
big white walls and grand staircases and big windows looking out onto a
fantastic courtyard with the sun shining on everything) and suddenly I
saw the Christopher Walken entity come at me from down the end of a long
hallway... and just as he was getting near me some really mousy looking
girl with glasses and her hair in a bun and a black miniskirt and colorful
sweater and clunky black pumps started to follow the Christopher Walken
entity and say "Oh my God! Are you Christopher Walken!? Oh my God! Oh my
God! Can I have your autograph?" and stuff like that and the Christopher
Walken entity was trying to chase me but this girl kept distracting him
and annoying him... eventually it was because of her that I was able to
slip out a door and get away.
Another time I was
at a mall (do they have malls in France?) and of course the Christopher
Walken entity found me and started to chase after me to try and touch me
and, out of a rack of books at a bookstore that SAME woman from before
popped out and instantly started harassing Christopher and bugging him
for an autograph... except this time she had another woman with her who
was doing the same thing (who was also dressed in the same kind of clunky
nerdy prostitute/librarian 80's clothes). Again... because of them delaying
Christopher, I was able to escape.
Then the last time...
I was in some theater film room... like a big editing room where they edit
film and sound and stuff. It was late at night (all the other scenarios
happened in the daytime) and the light from the street outside (one level
down) was casting all kinds of colored lights into the room through it's
giant frosted glass windows. I was walking from room to room and ...suddenly...
there is the Christopher Walken entity. He gives chase and I start to run
for my life. And then out of nowhere the two fan girls pop out and grab
Christopher and are like "Christopher Walken!!! Eeeeee! We Looooove you!!!"
and they all grab him (this time there is a third girl). They all tackle
him to the ground and he falls down and ...as I look at the scenario I
see that in the area with him falling to the ground and the girls tackling
him - has changed back into the university building from the other day
for some reason... with the sun shining in on the hardwood floors from
the windows. I also see that the girls have spread a thick puddle of milk
onto the floor and they are rubbing the Christopher Walken entity into
it. He is twitching around and trying to break free. The girls have lost
their star-struck, fan girl personas and now seem very concentrated on
pushing down the Christopher Walken entity entity into the milk. I realize
then that the girls were just acting like clumsy, star struck fans the
whole time... and that they are not human. They are angels... or entities
of goodness. They are fighting for me and trying their best to thwart the
Christopher Walken entity every time he tries to get me. As I look down
at the scene... the main girl looks up at me as she is holding Christopher
down into the milk and whispers "Run!" to me. She seems totally smart and
wise at this point... not like the nerd she appeared to be. I run away
quickly and out into the street. I somehow know that the evil Christopher
Walken entity will be trying to hunt me down every chance he gets... and
that the nerdy 80's girls who are really angels will be fighting for me
at every turn. This makes me feel wary but re-assured... and I realize
that life is nothing but a constant struggle and that there are always
evil people in the world and you just have to do your best to work around
them or avoid their paths.
9/20/02:
No dreams.
9/21/02:
No dreams again.
9/22/02:
No dreams again...
9/23/02:
There was some weird
scenario where I was outside in some giant field. It had rolling hills...
like a valley (there were forest trees all in the far distant parameter).
The grass in the field was dead - like it was winter time - but it was
sunny and warm. I was with a few people. There was some giant gray concrete
entrance to some huge underground complex that was level with the ground
(you wouldn't be able to see it from a distance on the horizon). It was
like a big drop in the ground... surrounded by gray concrete walls... and
the floor of it was grass as well - it was almost like a "pit". The walls
had windows and entrances to the complex. I got the impression that the
opening to the complex could open and close automatically - like a giant
motorized trap door. There was some scenario where there was an animal...
a vicious killer animal (what it actually was I don't know) that was held
by a chain in the center of the "pit". I was watching some of the people
around me throw huge chunks of meat into the pit... and the killer animal
would devour it. I got the impression that the animal was very dangerous
and evil and I shouldn't go near it.
Then I was deep inside
the complex. It was nighttime (somehow I knew this) later the same day
and I was in a deep, underground bedroom (no windows). I was on the bed
and there was a TV on. I was with this guy who was sometimes the actor
Max
Parrish (from the film 'Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me') and sometimes
he was my old friend from NYC/guy I used to date Matt. We were making
out and watching TV. We were having a great time and really seemed to be
in love.
9/24/02:
I'm in some really nice art gallery. The gallery is closed and it is night time. I am in some inner-office of the gallery that has glass walls, gray industrial carpet and a conference table. You can see the white walls of the outer gallery outside the walls. I am sitting at the conference table with some girl with long, straight hair that I don't know. We are both fighting over this book of slides. The book also has lists of things bound in the pages with the slides. We are fighting over the book (like pulling it back and forth) and fighting over choosing things listed in the book. David Cunningham of The Flying Lizards is observing us do this.
9/25/02:
I remember something very, very vaguely about being in the Michelangelo Antonioni film "Blow Up" - I was in the David Hemmings character's apartment with him and also with Venessa Redgrave. They were their actual characters in the film, not the actors.. Britney Spears was also there as well as Kim Gordon. We were all arguing over this bound folder of slides. Out of the corner of my eye I kept catching that antique wooden rudder that bought in the film. It was hard to tell what time period it was. The apartment was very beautiful. I think it was overcast outside. That's all I remember.
9/26/02:
Too busy to record dream.
9/27/02:
Too busy to record dream.
9/28/02:
This dream has a false wake up, or a wake up that was un-noticed until
a few moments later:
I seemed to live in
this weird neighborhood where all the houses were these little miniaturized
white plastic versions of famous Frank Lloyd Wright homes. On the outside
the houses looked like cheap-o plastic models of these houses... but when
you got inside they were kind of nice... (with brightly colored cushions
everywhere) except everything was still made of plastic. In the neighborhood
it was always night time outside, and stormy, like thunder and lightening
and rain. I am in my house with some people and one of them is Ed Begley
Jr. We are all in the living room and we are looking at these two poems
that I wrote and that were published somewhere. The two poems were each
printed on a separate white bathroom tile... about 5" by 5". The text is
helvetica bold and black and then every other line is bright red. Black
and red black and red... for some reason the two poems were published this
way and sold in book stores. Everyone is looking at them and reading them
and asking me questions about them. For some reason I think my mom,
or the thought of her, entered the dream somehow at this point. I am looking
down at one of the tile poems with everyone (we are gathered together in
a tight circle) and everyone has their hand on it (the tile with my poem
printed on it) and we are all pushing it down, face up, onto this cushy
piece of white ottoman furniture and reading it aloud together... louder
and louder. The thunder and lightening is raging outside. Ed is standing
over everyone watching. As we read the poem I realize it is about the vicious
rape of a woman... with rhymes and everything. It is supposed to be outrageously
funny and "horrible" in a shocking way that is supposed to make you laugh.
The poem really bothers me and I can't believe I wrote it. After we have
all finished reading it aloud everyone is like "That's a crazy poem Mark.
Did you sell a lot of them?" and "Wow that was cool!" and stuff like that.
I am standing there kind of horrified and I am thinking that the world
is "evil". I go to the bathroom in the house and start to pee in the toilet.
I am alone, it is kind of dark in there, and am thinking about the poem
and how awful it is and how could I have written it. I start to think that
I watch too many police reality shows on television and that this is what
probably gives me such a violent vision for my poetry.
Suddenly I realize
that I am no longer dreaming and am really standing in my real bathroom
and peeing in the toilet. I kind of "feel" that Ed and the other characters
from my dream are back in my bedroom - but they aren't real. No body's
there. The point that I woke up from the dream is unclear.
9/29/02:
No dreams.
9/30/02:
I was living in all
kinds of different environments where different scenarios happened in each
one. Some seemed to be places I recognized - but were slightly different
- and some were unfamiliar. There was one scenario where I was in the apartment
building I live in now, and I had a friend who looked like David Duchovny
(or was him). My friend lived on one of the lower floors. We have just
entered the building and he stop off at his apartment and I go up to mine.
I think there was snow on the ground outside.. or salt or something, because
we are both wearing clunky boots with white stuff on them. I get up to
my apartment and decide to do some laundry. I go out into the hall and
I suddenly am carrying my friend's boots... which I seem to have with me
for some reason. I go downstairs to his apartment and knock on his door.
In the hall there are all these residents of the building doing strange
things... like setting up clotheslines and draping big red towels over
them and making forts out of them... I see a man in pink shorts painting
the walls with a roller. With all the commotion in the hall it's hard to
go down to my friend's apartment (I want to give him his boots) - it's
like an obstacle course. I also notice that the hall seems different -
in that instead of an old tenement building it now seems to have wood panel
walls, a wooden staircase with a railing, maroon industrial carpet, nice
wood doors - I get the impression I am in an old victorian style home (almost
like the kind you see made into fraternity and sorority houses on college
campus - which this is starting to feel like.
I finally reach my
friend's door and his front door is kind of hidden with all these obstacles
that the weird neighbors have left in the way from doing so many weird
things. There is a clothesline strung in front of the door with a red towel
draped over it, among other things. I place his salt/snow covered work
boots in front of his door (by reaching over the towel) and knock... then
run away. He opens the door and I jump back in front of his door and yell
"Surprise!" He invites me in.
The some time seems
to have passed. I am standing in the middle of his apartment in my underwear
and am rubbing my eyes. I seem to have woken up from a nap. There are all
these female scientists in white lab coat carrying clip boards and observing
me. They all have beautiful hair up in buns and are wearing make up and
glasses and seem to be beautiful and voluptuous under all their scientist
garb. They look like characters in an old 1960's Technicolor Jerry Lewis
movie. Then me and my friend decide to go outside the building.
We go outside and it
looks nothing like the front of my building in NYC. Or even NYC at all.
The front of the building is suddenly this one story, wood panel, ranch
style house in a big yard in a vast southern suburban setting. The house
looks old but is well kept up. The sun is out and shining on the bright
green grass in the yard. It's beautiful.
Then it seems to be
night time and we are back in the house... except now it's not the apartment
building in NYC at all... it the inside of the house (which matches the
front - what you would expect it to look like). We are in the living room
watching TV and some other people are there. The furniture in the place
looks old, antique-y... there is one of those old "ring rugs" on the hard
wood floor. Suddenly I tell everyone that I need to go "Do something."
I get up and go to one of the front rooms of the house that has a big window
that faces the front yard. I take off all my clothes and sit down nude
on this wicker seat, high-back colonial style chair that is facing the
window (but against the back wall opposite the big window. I can see the
neighborhood outside - and the light is on so I'm sure people outside can
see me sitting here nude. My hands are over my crotch. To my left is a
door leading back to the TV room, with a sheet hung over it. I can hear
them all watching TV. I can't believe I'm doing this. Suddenly my old childhood
friend Tim walks through the front door and through the room I'm
in to go to the TV room to watch TV. He just walks past me and is like
"Hi Mark!" He seems to notice that I'm nude and you can tell from the look
on his face that he really wonders what I'm doing but just doesn't say
anything. I don't know why I'm doing this. I continue sitting nude in that
chair there while everyone watches TV in the room behind me.
Then suddenly it is
the next morning. I am in the front lawn of the house. I am laying on the
grass and the sun is shining - it's a beautiful day. I have tow record
album covers in my hand - both by the old new wave band Martha and the
Muffins. One seems to be an album and another seems to be a 12" single
from that same album. The covers are black and have a photo in the center
of the front. I look closely and see that the photo is of the house I am
in front of... the house I have been in. I look at the back of the covers
and see different photos of the house. For some reason at this point I
am unable to look directly at the house (even though it is right in front
of me - I am laying on the grass right in front of it) and am only able
to "observe" the house by looking at the photographs on the album covers...
weird. It's like I can only experience the reality around me through second-hand
photos on album cover designs.
Then there is this
"flash" where I seem to be very temporarily on a very high building in
what looks like a Japanese city - like Tokyo or something. It is night
and I am looking at cars zoom by on this raised highway.
Then I am suddenly
back in the yard looking at the album covers and only able to see what's
in front of me through the photos on the covers. I get the sense that the
"flash" thing was a glimpse into the far future in my life. I start looking
closer at one of the covers and see the song title is something like "Hub
Center" or "Hub Reflect" or something like that. I see then that the photo
of the house on that cover is actually a photo of a car wheel's hub cap
that is parked in front of the house (that I know is behind me at the curb)
and you can see the distorted image of the house in it.