Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
For the sake of documentation, I decided to go ahead and record yet another homelessness dream I had on Sunday night. It's the second dream I've had that involves Christians trying to kill me. At some point in time, I'll write down the other one I had a number of months ago... hopefully, within proximity to this post, but I've been busy in the past few days, so I have no ideal how well I'll be able to organize my next few posts.
I had a dream I lived in a rather organized slum. The buildings were made of scrap-wood and corrugated metal boards. The main path was dirt, but had ditches dug on the sides to channel waste water and what-not down the sides of the road. Each building had a little plank that went over the ditch and into their entrances. I was looking for something in one of the buildings. I remember this slum being a lot like what I imagine the middle ages being like. It was very dirty, and appeared to be run by common-law within the community. I remember seeing people bath next to the waste-water ditches, and their nudity wasn't appealing at all, it was very real, and filthy...just animals taking care of their bodily needs.
I bought a compact from one of the buildings that had a razor embedded in its powder. When I left the slum, people warned me a man claimed to have a spear blessed by God he planned to kill me with. I was supposed to use the razor in the compact to kill him before he was able to attack me. I left the slum and the woods it was hidden in, and came out to a clean, suburban street. I remember the dream ending as I watched the man talking to some other people on the street. He didn't notice me coming to his side as I opened the compact and took out the razor.
Thank you for reading,
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
I thought it important to include a picture that proves I do Indeed get dressed some days, but sought to comfort you with my usual morning picture (the one with my hair down). In this post I'm continuing my transfer of dreams from my old blog. This dream is part of my beach dream phase. I actually had one other beach dream that I never recorded, so I suppose I'll try to record it here for the first time, but first here is the one I wrote down.
I'll have to malign my rather stuffy old roommate a bit to record this dream. In the dream, Ashley (the ex-roommate) and I had to go to a conference out in Utah. The conference ended nearly as soon as we got there, but filled with an adventurous spirit gained from making such a trek from my home-state of North Carolina, I told Ashley I wanted to go ahead and see the Pacific Ocean, since we had gone so far already. As typical, my ex-roommate reacted with irritation as she was excited to get back to her normal television-programmed routine in NC and snapped at me saying, "I've already done that!" I withheld myself from arguing (which trust me, isn't normal for me) and drove her back to our apartment in North Carolina, and drove myself all the way back out West. I arrived in San Fransisco.
I reached the city exhausted, and needed to stay in a hotel before I could continue on my trek to touch the Pacific Ocean. I remember watching a documentary in the hotel room. It was about a local eccentric. A scruffy long-haired man, who pedaled around on his bike, with a baby-doll dress on (the similarity to me is noted). This man was strikingly ugly to the point where he was cute, much the way people think pug-dogs are cute. He was noted in the neighborhood for his child-like personality. He had rode his bike into a dangerous neighborhood because a woman there had offered to plait his hair into dutch braids (corn-rows).
The police stopped him, knocked him off his bike, and beat him to death because of his appearance. At that point, I had finally fallen asleep in my crusty hotel room bed. My parents are full-time "RVers," and had happened to be in a camp-ground near San Francisco. In the morning, I called them to tell them I was nearby. My Mom approved of my trek to touch the Pacific Ocean, so they agreed to meet me at said beach, but when I got there (in a rent-a-car) the road ended on a high cliff. I could see the beach below, but had no idea how to get there.
My parents had the same problem as I and met me at the edge of the cliff. As we were looking out into the vast darkness of the new moon sky and black ocean, I decided to go to the rent-a-car and use my cell phone and a map to try to find where the path down to the beach was. My parents were satisfied with just standing on the cliff, looking into the outer-space like darkness, so when I found the path to the beach, I just called them and told them what I was doing. I remember the car sharply pointing down a sandy path. It slipped down the path's loose sand, and I used it as a sled to get down to the beach.
That's how that dream ended. I had another West coast beach dream I never wrote down because it seemed fragmented and silly to me. Now, referring to real life, I've dated very seldomly, so the men I've had in my life maintain their significance through the years. My first boyfriend was a guy named Terry. He was a year older than me. It was at the height of "grunge" and we both loved Courtney Love's "Hole." I was 17 and he was 18, and we both had eating disorders and angst-provoked drug habits. Naturally, it was love at first site.
In this dream we had trekked across the USA in order to fulfill my dream to touch the Pacific Ocean. Terry had some drug-buddies he met back in Baltimore who we could stay with in San Francisco. I remember their house was a four-roomed disaster, but was achingly close to the beach. Always being the prude in the group, I was nervous about staying in a house full of junkies (Terry's drug habits where rather serious, while mine still remained in the realm of youthful experimentation), but Terry isolated me from the rest of the group, so I felt relatively safe.
The first available morning, Terry and I went out to explore the sea-side, and finally touch the Pacific Ocean. I wanted to go straight to the beach and get our quest done with, but Terry wanted to show me a tide-pool where ostriches had colonized. We were just a dune away from the ocean, and I remember walking along it, looking at the ocean, but knowing I'd have to wait till I could go to it. We reached a copse of palm trees where the wide, shallow tide-pools began. As soon as we saw the ostriches (they were much larger than I had imagined), Terry reminded me they were very territorial, and would attack us if they thought we were a threat. He also said they would follow a potential threat for miles once startled. I was rather put-off by this and asked him if we couldn't just go to the beach.
Sure enough, as soon as I said this, the ostriches spotted us and immediately started to charge. We ran all the way back to the dilapidated junky-house, and never got to go to the beach. He tried to act like it wasn't a big deal because there was a big party at the house, blah. So there you have two more Pacific Ocean dreams.
Thank you for reading,
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
That's when I noticed we were still docked. There really wasn't any danger at all, but the ship's captain was still acting like we were all going to drown at sea. As punishment they threw me and my Dad into the sea. I remember him trying to grab hold of me under the water. It looked like we were underneath the deep end of a pool. I started to breath the water, and we both began to turn into fish.
Monday, July 16, 2007
This is the way I'm going to wear my hair for any interview. You can't tell in the picture, but I've parted my hair from the side, so it looks like a pomaded man's hairstyle from the front. Hopefully, for an interview my hair will be dry though. I'm not going to wear earrings, and am going to wear glasses instead of contact lenses. It's really about as business-casual as I can get. I'm hoping with practice I'll learn to put my hair up more tidily. My hair would never lay so flat if it was short, I'm having fun learning to put my hair up. I wish I could do more complicated braid-work.
With this post, I'm trying to move my dream-posts from a blog I no longer write in, to this one. Here are two love dreams I remember. This first one I'm going to tell you is one I had five months ago, the second one I had about 14 years ago. The more recent dream, is one I had when I was feeling very sick, and felt nauseous every time I tried to get out of bed. It's frightening to be so sick, when you live alone.
I dreamt I had a boyfriend, who sat at the desk behind my bed, trying to open a bottle of aspirin for me (that's it). The boyfriend was a person I had a crush on as a teenager in real life. He was one of those people who seemed to have every reason to date me, but wouldn't because I was too young and too "weird." I liked him because he was very left-brained and together. The very opposite of me. It's unfortunate during that brief period of time, say from the ages of 12-22, when I still had crushes full of blind love and pure emotional thinking, I was beset by man after man who simply would never think of it. It always seemed to be because I was strange, and unlikely to lead a conventional life.
It would have been nice to have some one to struggle through life with, especially rooted from that time of "young love" and "high-school sweethearts." Well, I've never had much success with romance and have remained single for most of my life. There will always be those times when I'm sick or frightened, and wish I had someone physically present as some beacon of humankind. Nearly all my relationships are transmitted by satellite it seems. Here is a dream with a more wistful note, it's from when I was 17 0r 18.
In the dream, my best-friend at the time (Marcus Gill) and I went on vacation to Scandinavia. Marcus had some business to attend to, so he dropped me off at the apartment of a friend he knew. The apartment complex was new and had an inviting pool, shining brightly in the mid-day. The man's name was Julian. We liked each other very much. I was thrilled and wanted to make the most of my time with him.
Julian wanted to show me his job, but at the same time wanted to keep it as a surprise for me. I grew more curious, and a little worried, as we arrived at the coast. We got into a little row boat and began to paddle out into the wide sea. The coast had islets of pillar-like rocks, very jagged and threatening. The sky and sea began to well up and join each other in the same colors. A great storm was coming.
I then learned Julian was a hurricane researcher. It was his job to row his boat out into these enormous storms. He took measurements beneath the sea when the storm was at its worse. He tied his ankle to a wooden board he used as a marker, so you would know where he was underwater. I felt I should trust him and not seem worried, but I really was. He took a confident dive into the water, his body outstretched with no evident fear of the waves that seemed to be curling into tighter and tighter loops each minute.
The wooden board swung like a pendulum between the troughs and crests of the waves. As I was contemplating this, it quickly occurred to me he had no breathing aide to rely upon under the water, and no matter how good he was at what he did, he still had the same human limitations as anyone. I realized he had drowned under sea. I jumped in the water and dragged the wooden board tied to his ankle onto the boat, but the rope waved loosely in the sea, and wasn't attached to anything. I felt myself waking up, and wanted to remember his name. The only thing I had was a cigarette he left burning in the boat, so I burned the name "Jules" on the wooden board, and then woke up.
I simply don't have love dreams with the frequency I once did, but when I do, it's always a nice break from the tenaciously monotonous path my life seems to walk. Much of my interest in dreams stems from the "break" they provide. If anyone out there has love dreams they would like to share, or perhaps dreams of uncanny similarity, please say so. It's also interesting to hear the life circumstances occurring when the dream was dreamt.
Thank you for reading,
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Here's a picture of me this morning, and a picture of Jackie Curtis dressed up all pretty. His picture kind of matches the mode of my dream this morning.
My dream started with a movie-feel, the motion was even sped-up like a movie might do as a special effect. I drove my car, following another car to an old shopping center. It was gray and overcast outside, and the shopping center sagged with some age and use, but tall trees surrounded everything. The trees looked more vibrantly green against the dull sky. The shopping center had an odd layout. When you drove up to it, it appeared to be a one story grocery store, but once you went around the side, you realized the shopping center was built into the side of a hill (so I guess you'd say it was"split-level"). The bottom floor had several smaller shops, and cars filled the parking lot.
That's where the car I followed stopped and parked. The people then walked out of the car and into a path in the woods behind the shopping center. I lost site of them, but evidently knew where to go because I walked up the path to a three story white house (maybe about 100 years old, very narrow and tall). The house was separated into apartments. I walked up a flight of stairs built on the side of the house, and went into an apartment on the second floor. The apartment was two stories, the bottom floor was about the size of an average apartment, but the second floor only had one bedroom, and a bathroom.
The house was full of interesting stuff. There were books, clothing, rolled-up posters, mugs, and all kinds of knick-nacks all over the counters, tables, shelves, and floor. Everything was much to my taste, lots of odd and eye-catching things. I didn't have much time to look around though because about 9 other people were already there. It looked like a completely out-of-hand party and I had to remind myself we were acting in a movie. The people I followed in were already in costume and acting with everyone else, so I felt the need to hurry.
All kinds of colored lights flashed through-out the house. The music reminded me of Henry Mancini, but fast paced with the occasional beeping car, or other urban sound blended into it. Everyone had to quickly change from costume to costume (we were in "fancy-dress," as if at a masquerade party). We also had to move from room to room, from chair to couch to floor very quickly. Even the guy filming the scene (he was a young gay man who owned the house) kept on changing into different costumes and masks.
At one point in the "party" two women and I ran around through the house, and had to end up in a couch in the main room. I plopped down on the couch first, but it was small for all of us. I ended up being crushed into the corner, and the two women started dancing while sitting down, flailing their arms and legs up and down. The woman next to me kept on accidentally hitting me in the head with her arm. As we were about to get out of the couch to film the next scene, she said to me, "Look he even has a doll that's a leper, see it's on the top shelf in the closet." I looked and three dolls sat on the top shelf, they all looked like normal 1940s era baby-dolls, but one was covered by leprous sores.
I remember having to change into suspenders, and an Amish person's outfit for the next scene. Everything happened so fast, and so chaotically that I still had to remind myself we were filming a movie. Soon we stopped filming, and people started to go home. I finally got an idea of what the owner of the house looked like ( for most of the day he wore different masks and accessories that obscured his face). He started to get out of his costume, but left a robber's mask and a cheap nylon cape on. He had been rather intimidating to this point because I was so impressed he was filming a movie, and had such a great collection of stuff. He had excellent taste in movies, music, books, and other odds and ends. I'm sure he would of had "Popiol i Diament" (in movie form, not the book), or "The Balcony" by Jean Genet.
To this point in the movie this guy had been telling everyone what to do, but as you got to get a better glimpse of him he seemed like a normal approachable person. He allowed me to look around the house and borrow some things. I picked up an article of clothing (something flowy, lavender, and sheer), an interesting looking mug, and a few books. I only remember two of the books. One of them was "The Book of Toth," and another one was a woman's fashion guide from the 1950's called "How to Dress from Head to Toe." The last other actor began to leave and I jumped on the floor covered with all the stuff I borrowed, and she sighed because earlier she told me she couldn't stand all the "weird stuff" laying around the place.
After she left it was just me and the guy left, and he wanted to take me to another location to film another part of his movie. I gathered my stuff together and waited in the foyer. That's when I realized the foyer floor was covered in marijuana. It was as if someone took a pound bag and just shook it out on the floor. The guy came to the foyer and we were about to leave, but two robbers burst in through the door. They weren't very threatening and it took me a second to realize they were serious about robbing the place (I felt they wanted to take the marijuana on the floor). One of them had a sturdy build and pretty blue eyes framed with thick eyelashes.
The guy who owned the house told me to go to the kitchen and get some bigger mugs. When I came back, one of the robbers was using another mug to gather the marijuana. The owner (and director) said to me very loud and in a way I could tell he was up to something, "Go outside and start the car because we're in a hurry to get to our next acting gig. You can leave the mugs with me. " I gave him the last mug I had, it was a big copper one, and the blue-eyed robber remarked to me, "Oh that's a good one, it's really strong." As I left to start the car, I realized the director/owner was going to fill the mugs with the marijuana and dash out of the house, and that's why he wanted me to go ahead and start the car. That's all I can remember from the dream, but it was nice to have a mostly fun dream for a change.
I've had other dreams this past week, but they were all kind of mediocre. One had something to do with a secret passage in a house, another one had someone pointing out the difference in the pelts of koalas raised in the north versus the south, and in another one I was still living with my parents. They just didn't shine very much to me, so I haven't recorded them.
Thank you for reading,
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Here's a picture of me in my new glasses (my old ones keep on breaking), and a picture of Angie in the sink. Last night I had a tornado dream, but I think the dream's focus was really on safe places to live.
As the dream begun, A friend showed me a new housing development supposed to be completely self-sufficient. It had its own power grid, it's own sewage system and water supply, etc. I remember the construction method. Every house begun as a wooden foundation, with what looked like a big port-a-potty towards the back, which connected to the neighborhood's sewage system. The builders made this construction for every lot, and began to build the houses on these foundations.
This new housing development was adjacent to a much older neighborhood, with a small private college in it. This neighborhood was very beautiful. The buildings were obviously very old, and the only new thing about them was their modern window panes. The buildings had decorative stonework (they seemed to be made of either gray slate, or some type of tan granite), and different plants growing up their sides. As dusk approached I could see people studying through the windows of the private college. This neighborhood really cast a contrast between it and the new self-sufficient neighborhood.
I returned home (in the dream I still lived with my parents) and went to my bedroom. It started to rain and I read for awhile, until I noticed the storm really picking up. I went to the window and the wind was blowing so hard everything outside looked like it was going to be shoved sideways off the earth. I looked up to the sky and I could see a hole opening up in the clouds with a dark wisp of clouds starting to spin out of it.
I tried to get under my bed, but I wouldn't fit, so I sat under the door-frame of my closet. I noticed the funnel-cloud was really getting pronounced, so I decided I needed to go somewhere safer. I got my parents, and we went to a walk-in closet under the stairs. We turned on the closet light and waited. The storm soon passed, but I was eager to see what had happened to the new housing development.
I went back to the housing development, and it was more or less fine. Some building materials were scattered about, and the wooden foundations were thoroughly soaked, but none of the finished houses were damaged. I wondered if the fact the neighborhood had it's own power system would make it a better place to live in case of a severe storm. The old stone neighborhood was also fine, and I wished the new neighborhood was made to look like the old neighborhood.
Well, that was my dream. Not as interesting or symbolic as my other recent dreams, but it still lets me know what's worrying me deep down inside.
Thank you for reading,
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Here are pictures of Angie and I mid-day Thursday. My dream last night was an odd continuation of my last posted dream. It's funny how night-to-night my dreams seem to have their own secret plot-line. Unfortunately, I'm semi-conscious during my dreams, so don't have all the fine details of what this plot-line is.
My Dream last night, started in what was supposed to be my last apartment (when I had a roommate), but the apartment didn't look anything like my former apartment. I felt so tired in the dream, I kept on falling asleep in the first bedroom to the right, which was vacant. The second bedroom to the right was mine. I remember having monumental difficulty getting from the vacant room, waylaying on a couch in between, and finally to my room. I got to my room to sleep for a while, only to soon be awakened by my friend Marcus (a friend I haven't seen in about 12 years, who I used to go to dance clubs with when I was a teenager).
I got dressed in a red, strapless, latex dress, fashioned after Samurai armor. I even had those raised Japanese clogs on (red, of course). My hair was twisted up, much like the picture of me in this post. Again, as in the last dream, the building we arrived at was made of cinder blocks. As we entered the club, I was taken aback because it was like a sordid bath-house from San Fransisco in the 70's. I kept on trying to keep up with Marcus while trying not to interrupt people having "private moments" in dark corners of the club.
I finally almost reached Marcus, but that's when I noticed I was alone in an empty part of the club. It was a hallway all made of glazed cinder blocks (like in a public pool), and the hallway went around in a square (so you could run laps around if you wanted). In the hallway before me, a group of people helped one person off a horse. I heard the person getting off the horse say, there are two ways to see God.
In front of me I saw the recently dismounted person set down a flame on the ground, this was one form of God. I quickly ran around the hallway block to get to the other side of that same hall, and saw that in the other hand facing the other way from the flame, the horse rider was holding the hilt of a sword (with no blade) that emanated straight laser beams of different colors of light, this was the second form of God.
It's funny to have this dream, when last night I had the Satan dream. I guess people's subconsciousness has a plot-line of its own. The feeling in the dream was as if I had been led through a maze, simply to be shown the two forms of God. There was no malevolent aspect of the dream, unlike the dream I had last night.
Thank you for reading,