dreams: June 17, 1999
Phoebe and I are in a dance club together. She's totally enjoying it, but I want to leave. The energy is too heavy here. I can physically feel the vibes pulling me down, like gravity. Phoebe's hair is really long and big, carefully styled. She has one barrette clip hanging halfway down the front, on the left. She has heavy energy. I tell her I'm leaving.
raising contributions for the homelessThen we're eating a chocolate dessert creation that is like a big rolled log, oozing out chocolate sauce from the ends. I'm using my fingers to eat it.
Then Phoebe and I are leaving somewhere together, going out to our truck that's parked in a big parking lot. Yet it's diagonal, not in any designated parking space. We start to get in, but a cop pulls up and says we are going to get a ticket for parking too long in the wrong place. I tell him that we were just leaving at that moment, and I wave the car keys in my hand. He says he doesn't buy that excuse.
Then suddenly time has passed and another police car pulls up and tells us to get in their vehicle. We're in the back of a big truck (open top), and the two cops have brought a lot of people in here. Then they tell us they're not actually police officers -- they just needed to get us together because they're trying to raise money for the homeless. The two men point to a group of people a little ways away. They're the homeless. I see: the men knew that if they just begged for contributions, they probably wouldn't get much money.
Then I'm in a house, getting together the things I'm going to give to the homeless group. There's a plate of store-bought cookies on the table. I'm eating as many as I can before other people get here, stuffing them in my mouth. The house is very American. I look up and see a cross (thin and gold) hanging on the wall.
I'm at a party, and I see Hollis Shostrom lying/sitting in the corner. I go over to talk to him. I tell him I want to know what his plans are now that he has graduated. Yet I then tell him that he doesn't have to tell me since I can ask his parents and save him the trouble of telling me those facts. Instead, I tell him, I want to know how he feels. I see that there are many special red points on his body that are rigged to some energy system so that others can tell what's going on. Some points are little red stars. (They look like the color and size of mosquito bites.) Suddenly I'm in his body and I see the marks on myself.
in Hollis' body
I'm imagining myself climbing a tall tree, thinking how exciting and dangerous it would be. And then I am at the top of a tree, looking way down. There are bunches of bananas here at the top. I'm picking them, throwing them down to the people below.
picking bananas
Different groups are putting on theater performances. They're all people my age. We do this every year. One group is being led by Jordan Gans-Morse, who has bright blue hair. He has had that color hair for a long time; he's now wearing a hat now, so I can only see the ends of his hair (almost to his shoulders). I wonder if his natural hair color shows in his roots? His group is all wearing outdoor clothing. The tags are still attached. It's as if they all got their costumes from one store -- a distinct style of outdoorsy hiking clothing.
Jordan's play and Thanksgiving mealAfter the acts, I'm going down some stairs with all the people from the audience. Some local reporters are talking about the performances. One says she doesn't know if she'll write a piece on the event this year, implying they weren't very good. A man reporter asks me which one I was in. I try to remember, but I can't.
Then we all go into a room where there is a big buffet table that is very long. I get a plate and some silverware. Jordan's group is sponsoring this dinner. It's a Thanksgiving meal. There are many pieces of antique silverware set out to use. I get some celery sticks. There are many sauces and dressings. I get turkey. Then there's a place for caeser salad; it looks very good, so I get a lot. I'm running out of space on my plate. Near the end there are bins of cheese -- real parmesan! I sprinkle some on my food, as well as sesame seeds.
- FIN -
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