Monday, October 15, 2007

The County Fair

There's a long sequence where I'm going to play at a large county fair. (Not quite as large as the L.A. County Fair, however.) I'm backstage, there's some confusion. There's an older man, African-American, who is supposed to perform before me, he's also waiting backstage. I believe he has a sax or harmonica. We are hanging around with a few other people when we decide to break into a jam of Marvin Gaye's "What's Going On." I'm play the opening; I'm surprised when he also decides to play a second guitar instead of the sax part. I eventually sing a verse; pretty good.

It seems eventually he does get to go on stage proper, and I watch him perform with a large group and chorus. I never get to play; no problem. Afterwards, hanging out with MI and a large group in one area, where we watch on a closed circuit television what's being performed on stage in a different area. There are young boys and girls doing somewhat dangerous fire dances, where as part of their dance, part of their hair or head catches fire. I see how this is done the second time, one boy has some flammable goop on his head. A girl comes out and seems very unhappy to be forced to do this dangerous routine. But without hesitation, she does her act and her mouth, eyelashes, and other facial features are briefly surrounded by flames. The cameras show a closeup and she still seems upset, on the verge of tears.

There is another dream in which I hear that SC has died somehow. I'm not sure about it, and plan on confirming it but never do.

Another where I see MJ and he's reading a George Carlin book with a mixture of enjoyment and embarrassment.

Thursday, August 30, 2007


Some large old building, possibly hotel. Daytime, outside on roof patio, work-related type of gathering; people sitting, drinking, etc. Somehow water is getting poured on these electric appliances near/under the tables, similar to heat lamps. I remark this seems dangerous. Turns out to not be an accident, but a plan of JC's I'm told. I'm not relieved.

Shortly after, somewhere in front of the building, a large cloud of white smoke starts to billow up, and there's general concern and fear. I move to the edge of the roof top to see what has happened. As I view the street below, everything starts to shake: moderately violent earthquake begins. Minor panic on the roof, but no one is really moving.

One woman in particular starts to rant in terror, I feel close to her so I get up and start trying to calm her, and then (wisely, I feel) start to take her back inside to head down the stairs to get out. As we go, I remind her that even though the quake is still going, I try and relieve her by telling her that at least it's not going to get worse. It's difficult to get down the stairs, I'm trying to leap across this wide stairwell to save time. Not sure what floor we are on, but I collapse for some reason, possibly exhaustion. The woman looks at me, devastated. Then I feel like I'm looking for self-pity, so I find a way to get back up and not give up on our escape. At the same time, I'm wondering what's happened - thinking maybe the roof came in on us and we died and now I'm experiencing some inner 'dream.'

After I get up though, now she is on the ground, and not playing around, terribly ill; dead, in fact, rather quickly. She transforms in these dying moments, becoming a great deal smaller and also going completely bald and white. Horrifying. It all happens quickly, I'm wondering if I should carry her out still at the same time realizing I'm now dealing with a dead body (of sorts.)

There's another sequence afterwards in which I'm on the streets in Boston possibly, with no money. I'm wondering how I'm going to survive without any, and remember I still have my guitar and things, so perhaps I'll have to go play in the park or square for change, playing for my life now basically. There's a young African-American woman who is also in the same financial boat. I'm suggesting to her what she can do, who she might go to, when I realize I may as well just take her in and give her a place to stay, since I have nothing to lose either. Sitting on a stoop, I describe how we'll both have to make extreme cutbacks to survive.

Shortly after I'm inside somewhere, a room right off the street, still daytime. There's a bed I attempt to get some quick rest on, but getting in, it's way too short for my height. Some people (SR) are around and discuss going to get some unhealthy food.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Fridge Cam

At some type of party, possibly at CA's house, but somewhat reminiscent of Queens Village. I'm going to the refrigerator to get a drink; CA says wait and checks his mobile phone. He has a small spy cam inside the fridge networked to the internet, so he can check inside the fridge from anywhere i.e. his cell. He sees what is in there and where, and then asks me to get him something specific.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

The Evil Wizard

Outside somewhere, nighttime, with my cousin Tom and a group of 4-5 older, burly men. We are planning to break into a nearby jail to free one of our wrongly imprisoned cohorts. It's a dangerous plan, involving me and my cousin used as spies/infiltrators - doesn't seem like the best plan. Something happens during the huddle and the plan is postponed - I'm thankful due to the potential danger of it.

We end up in a crowded pub, blending in as if we hadn't been just planning that A-Team type adventure minutes before. People are getting beers and talking - I feel the need to urinate and head towards the back room to find the WC. There is a bathroom and also a back storeroom, kind of a dark garage/kitchen. I urinate in some woefully inadequate receptable, or two, and a bit on the floor also. Some things can't be controlled.

I'm coming out of the back room, into a small lighted room with a few tables, that leads back into the main darker pub area. There is just one man seated, old but sharp, longish white hair; a disturbing presence clad in black. He starts to say something to me before I turn around to see him properly. He quotes some old tapes I'd recorded with my cousin (in real life) 20 years ago. It shocks me to hear someone know these tapes in detail, and I search for a explanation. I seem to remember Tom telling me he had played some of our old music to a guitar student or two. As I'm thinking that, the old man takes on the form of a teenager, so I assume this is such a student. But there's something wrong about all this, i.e. the shape-changing. We exchange a few words but I'm entirely convinved that this is some sort of message to me from supernatural forces. Dark foreboding. The student/old wizard in disguise leaves quickly.

I go to follow, into the crowded bar. Cross paths with Tom, I tell him what happened, ask him about this particular student he may have had (who had given me a name.) Tom confirms partially but incredulously says that that boy actually died 6 months ago - I couldn't have just seen him. At first I think he's joking with me, but he's not.

We feel the need to hunt down the shape-shifter 'demon' before he gets too far, to bring resolution to this. We leave and drive around the area. Now very late at night, in some suburban neighborhood we follow the trail to a small, flat grassy field. In the middle of it, we find some bones, skeletal remains presumably of the boy. It feels like the wizard in black took the form of the dead boy, but the form only lasted a short time until the body was entirely used up. The foreboding spirit escaped.

In another separate dream, there's a sequence at night where I'm at first driving through a bad neighborhood, then walking. There's a long dark alley that seems to lead somewhere well lit, but it's a 8 foot drop down to the concrete from where I am. I drop down and begin to nervously walk towards the light. There seemed to be a body slumped in a dark corner when I dropped down, dead or homeless or both, but I ignore it and keep moving. I get to the end but the light is just this small room, a dead end, so I have to go back - frightened. As I head back down the alley, one side of this long bench/divider, there's a second body lying flat out on the ground, possibly blood around it. I bypass it, but shortly after, I hear that body get up very quickly - someone was faking - and the sound of the body's speed in the concrete alley is very jarring - horror. Simultaneously, this malevolent person says "Having a bad day?" mockingly. I can't get back up the 8 foot wall quickly. The villain approaches...

Monday, July 09, 2007

The Biggest Tongue in Dreamland

In a house, I'm eager to cut off some of my hair (hair style circa nearly 20 years ago...) I enter the bathroom with scissors and begin cutting. Somehow this progresses to cutting off the literal tip of my tongue, which at the time doesn't seem too destructive - more cosmetic. But I make a second more tragic cut too far, and there is severe damage - blood and loss of form; some major vessel has been cut. The bleeding stops to reveal the truncated tongue, with a hole in it (or two) revealing where the vessel should have continued on. Oddest of all, this depressing tongue (that was a pun) modification causes it to intermittently expel small bursts of flame, which I must douse within my mouth. Great anxiety and concern...sense of all being irretrievably damaged. Then thinking of confessing problems to someone knowledgable...problems go back many, many years...

[Awakening - terribly disturbed by dream. Very odd synchronicity on logging in after waking, however: my spare copy of B. Kliban's The Biggest Tongue in Tunisia sold during the night on]
After over a year hiatus, I've decided to return to the dream blog. I've also decided to turn comments on. Be kind.