Thursday, August 30, 2007

Earthquake

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.

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