dreams: Saturday, January 13, 2001
picking up John's valuablesI'm eating a meal with Noli at a restaurant. I have a bunch of cherry tomatoes cut in half. I have sliced a letter into each one of them (T, R, etc.), and I want to create a poem or message with all of them together. I use a black marker to fill in the cuts on the tomato pieces with ink for emphasis.
I'm eating an expensive meal that has tofu pieces from Cuba, each one a special shape, as well as brown rice. Tonight is my last night before leaving for a big trip. I don't feel ready. This meal is worth the cost. I feel guilty/shameful about some hidden sexual issue that I've done or wanted to do or am doing.
I decide to get an extra order of brown rice to save for tomorrow, when I have to travel. I see a sign in a supermarket/restaurant that says an order of brown rice is $2.99. I don't end up buying it. My plans change. I'm no longer going on my trip.
I'm not walking (or riding my bike?) along a road at nighttime. John is in front of me. I see him drop a huge wad of cash. I almost reach it when the wind snags it away from me in two different directions. I run after it, trying to catch it for John, angry that he let it drop. It is a lot of money, and it looks like more and more the longer I chase it along the ground. I see small bills, as well as large-amount bills ($50s). I finally catch up to some of the money and pick it up.
John also dropped his keys, which are heavy enough to sit on the ground without being blown away. Attached on the keyring is a tiny wallet thing. I open it up and see a document that has to do with Grandma Bessie and/or Aunt Dinah Shore. It's important that John does not lose this. It has to do with his family lineage and ancestors.
Jennie is in labor; Maya is strange I'm approaching Jennie Sherlock. She's full of golden, caramel-colored light. She is packing up some bags. She tells me that "it's now time." I realize she has gone into labor (she' pregnant). This is an exciting, important time. I see her baby, a girl, right here with us.
Then we're in a room full of other people. One guy asks me how long I've been here. "My whole life," I tell him. We're in Ashland (in John's house, or maybe Vivi's). These people are a church group, Daimistas. It seems to be a party to celebrate Jennie's labor/baby. I feel like being quiet, not talking to anyone. I silently sit in the room.
Someone says my name (or something about me?), and everyone cheers, throwing confetti into the air. I look at a list. The paper has people's names on the left, with their corresponding main character trait on the right. "Maya" has the word "strange" right next to it. The other names seem to have more positive traits.
wrestling with snakes I'm in an exotic region (Brazil?). I'm in a house, yet it's also part of nature. A few others are here with me. I'm walking around. The ground is covered with a couple feet of water, as if a stream (or marsh) covers everything. I see tons of colorful bugs, reptiles and little animals all over the place. I have to be careful where I step. When I walk and forget they're there, I have no trouble not stepping on anything alive; yet when I consciously remember that I have to be careful, I get scared and feel like I have nowhere to step.
I heard that there is a special tropical water thing here that involves sexual pleasure. It is in some particular area of the creek (a special rock?) where you can go to let a leech-like thing suck you and give you pleasure. I'm asking others about it, but nobody knows. I can't find it.
There are countertops that have little shelf spaces hidden up under them. I look under one and see all sorts of dark, yucky animals. Someone tells me that the worst things get stored there. Animals put their food there too, like dead mice.
A young man is collecting tiny orange frogs, putting them all into a bag on his back. It's a kind of science experiment. He is a weirdo loser though. He does have a good sense of humor though.
I walk around and see snakes everywhere. At first they are skinny and bright yellow and orange. Then I start to see bigger, poisonous ones too. Some are rattlesnakes. I'm most scared of those. Their skins are more muted colors (sandy brown and beige). They start to try to attack me. I don't know how to defend myself. I grab one by the neck. We get into a serious wrestling match. It is trying to bite me, while I try to defend myself and hold it back. I'm very scared.
defending myself against cruel attack I'm on a cart that has lots of toys on it. I'm standing on the top. It is being rolled through a public area. Boys are running up to me and trying to get toys off my cart, sneaking up and grabbing them. I'm trying to defend myself, telling them to go away, to leave me alone, to stop taking my things. But they won't listen.
So then my defenses get physical. I have a spray bottle with toxic liquid in it. When I press the sprayer on top, a direct stream of the spray shoots forward. I start shooting it at the boys to defend myself and my cart. I spray it directly at their eyes, noses and mouths. One particular boy is vengeful and non-stoppable. I aim the spray right at his eyeballs, but it doesn't scare him off. His eyes get red, his face starts to look glazed over, and brown sticky snot starts oozing out of his nostrils, but he still keeps coming up to steal things from me.
I have to defend myself from all sides. Now the thieves and attackers are older -- both boys and men. The place is filled with people trying to get me. I don't have enough defenses to keep them all away. Now they are not only trying to take my toys but also trying to hurt me. One guy runs up and grabs a little plastic figurine off the top of my cart, telling me he's not here to take it; then he smashes it into pieces, telling me he's there to destroy it.
Now there are men and women of all ages attacking me. They have axes and large, heavy, metal objects in their hands to attack my cart, my toys and my body. I feel freaked out, totally scared. It takes all my energy to defend myself and fight back. My body feels too vulnerable. I'm scared I'll be killed. Nothing feels safe. I can't trust anyone.
My cart rolls around a wide curve into a more open area with less people. We are in a large, dingy warehouse-like building. A woman throws a thin razor-edged disk through the air. I'm mortified that it will hit me. It is like a boomerang, slicing through the air in a curve, returning the same direction from which it was thrown. Then it curls around again in the air, going back out. We all watch from where we are. It is heading towards a young woman (my age) sitting in a chair by herself. She is asleep. There is no one else around her. The disk lands in her left arm, slicing into her flesh. She wakes up, looking confused.
I realize that she was on their side, one of the violent attackers. She at first doesn't understand why someone aimed the weapon at her. She reaches over and pulls the razor disk out of her arm. She reads it, because it is also a card with a written message on it.
I can see the inside now too. It says "Happy 30th Birthday from the Terror-ists." It has something to do with dolphins. There is also a cartoon picture of a person on his/her hands and knees, covered with all sorts of objects lodged into his/her flesh (from head to toe), all different colors and shapes. It looks as though the character doesn't mind the pain -- perhaps even likes it. One little object stuck in his/her body is a question mark. I'm repulsed and scared that I'm surrounded by such violence. I don't understand why.
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