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Dreamlog is intimately connected to daylog. It's 4:30 in the morning.

Just woke up and my right big toe is still tingling. After a walk down the hall to the bathroom and then back to bed. Still the most tingly part of my body. (Poor neighbors in the room above, hearing this noisy keyboard at this hour.)

But my whole body was tingly, my teeth were clenched. My dream finished with an astonishing physical act that involved my whole skin, like passing out through the birth canal.

  • #I was flying
  • #I got trapped
  • #I escaped

       Why I was flying

      Why I got trapped

      Why I escaped

      I was flying to flee. They had made the mistake of locking us up in a cyclone fencing built pen, that is, an enclosure without a roof. This was outside the factory. They also made the mistake of believing me. I was in the wrong, but mostly I just wanted to get free. I was definitely, disturbingly guilty anyway-- some sort of an accomplice to "murder", which in the dream consisted of fragging these dreambot salesmen and passersby. I decided to admit my part in the mess, take the blame, but remotely. I offered to go home and get pictures that proved something or other. Home was on the other side of the world. I would fly there, and come back with these photographs that proved that people who had been disappearing, (murdered, baked into pies in the factory behind us) were done in by my accomplice, not me; but I was going to bring back random vacation shots and drop them from above the cage while shouting out that it WAS me, to get my accomplices (the real killers) free. Trading my innocence in the eyes of the law for my freedom. Anything for freedom.

      So I flew upwards, and away over the coast, and up over the hills and clouds. (Familiar Dreamscapes: Kind of like cloudworld, some hints of that land of mediterranean hills.) Somehow I end up in a house, flying in to a restaurant, then out the window, but the window leads to another room, an office or house, and then out the brightest window, but that turns out to lead to a slightly larger room with a skylight, and someone says "you can't escape!" and I say, "Oh yes I will" and head out the window, which leads to another room: this time the skylight is translucent white plastic, not clear, and I can't simply break through it, so I head through another window and this time the room has cable netting over the skylight, and in the next room it's iron bars, and soon I'm in an underground prison, many concrete floors deep in the belly of the beast.

      It's a teen prison. I'm going from corridor to corridor, past high school kids. Boys and girls. The keepers are in pursuit, but I'm a ways ahead of them. Night falls, something changes, someone friendly calls me over and says "They've called off the hunt until morning" and I sit down on a bunk. Now my main concern is having the space around me to launch a rocketing flight straight up through all the floors; it won't work if some of the kids close to me grab me and try to stop me, or turn me in. Friends start showing up. They grab the bunks near me. X-- shows up, and Y--. I flash a strip of paper at X--, who is lying on bunk near me, (the paper is a piece of crumpled, folded notebook paper on which I have written "5:00?" in crayon with a child's scrawl) and she says, "Oh, you can leave now! It's okay to leave right now." She is so beautiful. I can't believe she is saying that out loud! The strangers around us will hear! I borrow a bit of butter from an acquaintance in the bunk across the way. "It's for my toe", I say, hinting broadly. "It decreases the FRICTION." Whew. That's giving it away. I walk with a friend a few bunks away, to where there is a bit of space between the rows. "Be careful," she says, pointing to two strangers in a bunk bed nearby, "They don't know you."

      I have already put the butter on my big toe. I know that if I spin super fast, like a skater, I can fly upwards like a drill and blast through all the concrete. I'll be able to drill through all the barriers that I couldn't fly through before, and escape. As soon as I start to spin, the dream gets thin at the same time that a huge sense of my body pervades me--I feel my skin, I feel my toe. The dream almost instantly evaporates. I picture myself blasting up through the floors above, but it is imagining now, not dreaming. I lie there in bed with my toe tingling even more than the rest of my body, and my skin is on fire with tingling.

      I miss the woman in my dreams, X--. She is not my girlfriend, and my girlfriend is not her; I wish I dreamed about/felt about my girlfried in that way. I get up and go to the bathroom, but-- and here I go to the daylog.

Among other more hazy dreams (something about orson scott card? something about a woman with a long and unpronounceable name in the forest?), I dreamed that I deleted a long write-up in the dream log by jessicapierce, and then was unable to go back and find the text, and when I tried to apologize, she disappeared.

"..We remember, strangely, to ourselves in the mirror: "I used to dream of Paris and wild horses..."

(Secretary Morning, by a poet whose name sadly escapes me. Here, the secretaries have just woken up from another night of mundane, mundane dreams of filing and phones.)
I spent most of last nights dream running around breaking into bizzare buildings, magnificent with archetecture and long windows looking down rolling hills into forests and the like.

I vividly remember seeing some old man through a bay window playing tag with a child below. He looked up, hiding his balding grey arena of hair, and winked before resuming his chase. Next think i knew he fell over having a heart attack, and a few people milling around stopped and watched the man convulse. I ran down to the ground floor through white painted metal wrought ramp yelling Give him CPR, give him CPR.. no one seemed able to move.. eventually some professional ambulance attendants arrived and were attempting to resuscitate him.

Every time they put the electric jump start paddles on his chest, the old man writhed and his chest turned into a photocopier/scanner glass bed. The lid open and receiving the images of all those people around him as if to remember what being alive once was through a reproduction process.

I never seem to dream about people i know, its always strangers that have clear appearance and details. Once i dreamt i was listening to a techno song on vinyl.. Placing the stylus on the platter and starting a song that was fantastically mindblowing in complexity.. yet when i woke up trepidatiously.. there was no radio or music left on overnight. I was lucid and remained listening until the complete song was over.. There is no explanation for this, unless perhaps my mind writes music as I sleep.. if this is the case.. i am very pissed off :)
I'm pissed at myself for having waited so long to write this down, because by now I've forgotten so much of it. I don't remember what came before I walked down into the cove. There the sand was bright and warm, and so was the water. It made little criss-crosses as the wave drew back like 100 ft, but the water never seemed to go away. It was still about an inch deep across the whole way. On my left was an embankment, with some grasses and bushes, and on my right a large rock breaker extending as far as I noticed ahead. Land behind me, ocean ahead. The water was a bright beautiful green. Out of nowhere from behind came this car. I remember two guys, one with a red baseball cap, the other had a white one. I didn't hear it coming at all -- just happened to turn and saw it sliding right towards me, its hood turned slightly to my left, and it just glided across the sand straight for me. I almost hit my jaw on my knee as I ducked off to the right and rolled in the sand. I just barely escaped it and dived into the bushes. I thought I'd be safe here, but then they shot me. I was shot from behind, I think, right through my belly. I stumbled up the hill crying for help, and ended up behind a backstop. A clueless father and son didn't interrupt their game of catch as I called for help.

I'd never heard her say anything -- only noticed her in passing. Over at the dive shop, I think. There was one diving spot that was better than the rest -- the water was the same bright green. Maybe it was just the other side of the breaker -- I think it was. But it was much earlier.

I'd seen her in other places, too, but she'd always been sort of separated from the rest of the scene. I saw her in slow motion, as if overlaid onto the rest of the world. I was dying. Laying in the dirt, the life was draining from my body. Even before she knelt by me I knew everything would be all right. Smiling, she laid a hand on my wound, healing me completely. She had short brown hair, kinda light, almost reddish, and the same color eyes, big and smiling. "You haven't touched anyone before, have you?" I asked, surprised. I think I meant in the scope of the dream. So far she'd been just kinda floating by, wherever I'd gone. She hadn't interacted with anyone at all until now. I didn't know where she'd come from or how she got here. "Not in a very long time," was her reply. We wasted no time and started rolling on the floor kissing passionately forever. Whenever my eyes would blink open hers were closed. We rolled around forever. Later she came back to my parents' house for a barbecue. Someone had burned the hot dogs, so we put them back on the grill, in their buns, in a little swinging rack just the right size hanging down from the lid. Going upstairs, we saw a bunch of guys in N's room, on a mattress, playing cards or something, and peering at something out the window. I think she like kicked their asses or something ... I don't remember. She did some other amazing things, too, and everybody started calling her a goddess. She only ever spoke to me, really. It was like we'd been forever, and forever would be.

Until I woke up.

I almost cried. No shit: lying in my bed here this morning I felt such a profound sense of loss to be without her I almost started crying. Nothing's really wrong here, but my love had been left behind in my dreams. It was more real than any dream I'd ever had, and I closed my eyes again wanting more than anything to go back, but it didn't happen.

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