dreams: November 25, 1999
I'm climbing up a really tall wall that's in a big room. Next to it is a huge pillar that I'm also carefully climbing. I'm using a rope, holding onto it with my hands, as I lean my weight onto my feet with my legs almost perpendicular to the vertical surface. I'm also finding little wedges and crevices to hold onto with my fingers and feet. My arms feel strong. I like the thrill of seeing that I'm way above the ground with nothing stable to really support me. There's a whole different reality up here near the ceiling that not many people know about. I'm opening drawers and cupboard doors that are on the wall and pillar, peeking inside.
using my own strength to look at the high hiding places
Then I've come back down about halfway. I see that I left some of the drawers and cabinets open up at the very top. I realize that I need to leave things the way I originally found them; it would be bad karma to leave a trail of such disorder behind me. So I turn around and start hoisting myself back up, pulling myself up the rope, spiralling up around the pillar. Michaela DeSoucey is trying to tell me stories about herself (I can't see her, I can only hear her). Michael Klunder is a topic of conversation. I can feel his energy around here in a potent way. I am more concerned with my own business, getting myself back up to the top of my climb.
I'm watching a traditional dance performance. The dancer is wearing colorful skirts, and s/he is spinning around very fast, making his/her outfit blur together in a psychedelic array of blending visuals. When the skirts spread out into a colorful round plane, they're not horizontally parallel to the floor. Rather, they're totally vertical, because the dancer is in the air, spinning in a lying-down position; I can see the top of his/her head. For a moment I wonder if I'm in a D. work. Yet it takes too much of my own concentrated energy to get into it.
dancing, socializing, me as a girl
Veronica is here with me. We're talking. She's asking me questions about elementary school. I mention something about how she doesn't have to worry about that reality anymore. But then I realize that she still has a son. Nino.
I'm looking through a yearbook at old photos from Walker Elementary School. There's a photo of my 2nd grade class. I can just barely see my face in the very back, in the shadows, looking off to the side. Then I am looking at another photo (3rd grade? 4th grade?). It looks like Ted Holden's classroom. The students are all sitting or standing, facing the camera. I see my back, for I'm sitting at a table against the wall, doing work (writing something). I can't see my face, but I know it's me. I'm wearing a long-sleeved white shirt, and I have very long dark hair; it's wavy and reaches down to my butt. I see my hair move move, waving back and forth as I shift positions in the picture. I'm just barely noticeable though, since other classmates are sitting in front of me facing the camera.
Then I'm floating in a body of water, a small bay. There are objects floating around me. I'm talking about them with some other people. Sometimes in the past they have been mistaken as things that didn't belong in this bay. They've floated past the separating line and gotten confiscated. I see a yellow paddleboat and a rubber nipple of a baby's bottle.
Then I'm in a house for a dinner party. I'm getting introduced to a group of people. I'm standing in a doorway between two rooms. A short older woman is also standing here; she has smooth light hair framing her face. Her name is Martina or something similar. We kiss each others' hands. Phoebe is standing behind me, and she also introduces herself. We step into one of the rooms. There are lots of people here. I introduce Megan as my "almost-sister." I explain that she lived next-door as Phoebe and I were growing up. I also introduce another young woman (whose name also starts with "M"), saying that she lived on the other side of us. I then say that both are actually our "half-sisters," which makes everyone laugh. Vivi and John are somewhere in the room, and for a moment I wonder if I really am related to Megan by blood.
Then I'm sitting at a small table in one of the rooms. We're eating a special meal (Thanksgiving?), though the whole group is divided into smaller subgroups that are eating in separate rooms. Plates of food are on the table. There is a big group of international students here. We are all trying to integrate ourselves together. So some people start hugging. Then it turns sexual. I watch one of my male friends get very turned on by hugging a beautiful young black woman. He is naked. After they hug, he goes over and picks up a metal wastebasket. (He is part Patrick Boe.) He sticks his crotch into the can, holding it up horizontally with one hand while masturbating into it with his other hand, quickly rubbing his dick as if he's about to come. I can tell he really wants the release.
I look up and see a young woman dancing/moving in the center of the room. Others are around her, touching and admiring her. Most of her upper body is bare (except for exotic scarves and necklaces). Her abdomen is sleek and taut, and her breasts are small. She looks young.
I have written important personal things on blue construction paper. They are laminated in plastic sheets. I go into another room and tuck the sheets into a closet.
I walk back into the room where I had been before. I see a quartz crystal on the floor. I stop and pick it up, realizing that it belongs to me. I had forgotten about it though. It's flat and wide with smooth sides [one of the crystals I got in Brazil and gave to Will Bagley]. Other people in the room are talking about its significance for some specific reason.
- FIN -
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