Last night’s dream was convoluted and confused.I recall Dana
making another and troubling appearance. Parts of the dream were set at
Palomar College again. The dream followed a Byzantine and muddledstory line the likes of which I have not been
involved in in years.The absurdly
sedated, amoral character of it seems almost to serve as a mirror for the
regression to an adolescent cynicism that
I feel in Actual life.I rode the
Sprinter frequently, but the exact route evades Recollection. I can remember
several imperative details, however. I recall, for instance, the train
eventually depositing me at a stop that had a mellow hue of mixed
custard-yellow and sapphire blue, appearing osatentatious and Socialising. One
of the paths may have led me to the hind yard
of a guest house that was
clearly modeled after my own backyard in actual Life.
This grassy expanse, wherein I was a visitor from the
foreboding,fading light of dusk into an
intimidatingly social night-time,was particularinthat it merged and was
Continuous With the hind yards of the
houses of my neighbours. I had a mission of some sort to complete in a
neighbouring yard, from which I would return to a dissipating party, not unlike
the cast party at Michael Mufson’s house at the conclusion of ‘Dreamlandia’,
part of which had begun to over-flow onto the jade(d) lawn as guests ambled
like inquisitive children into the lure of the dark bushes, aesthetically as
though to escape the unanimously yellow Christmas lights intertwined with the
white boards, grated in part, that comprising the patio roof, as they would
have in Actual Life, immersing the scene in the gently ironic, humanely
sarcastic glow of a rich vanilla custard,
in part as though one were holding one’s breath in a pool thus illumined
in late evening.
Another important detail to note is that, in this
dream, my experience was markedly more extraverted. While I rode
the same Sprinter (presumably) as I had in prior dreams, the ex[erience was
marked by conversation with the Other Passengers, almost akin to
the feeling that one would imagine if we were all hostages, but to a markedly
less dramatic extent in actuality. Although we were all there of our own Volition,
there wasm that notwithstanding, a pervasive, Inclusive feeling that we
were ‘all in the same boat’, oR, in this casem ‘
All On The Same Train’.
A substantial part of the dream, apart from that, was in the
mode of a video game. The game was set on an island removed from
conventional civilization but not without its establishments.
There was a castle on the island that seemed as though it may have been
the Shopping Mall.
At one point in the dream, as a somewhat older young man, I
joined several friends in traversing an extensive mountain range far
removed from the events.It had the mixed feeling of being reminiscent of the
hike that I had made with Dylan the prior summer and a level from the Crash
Bandicoot series,drawing upon
that adventurous element that ‘Road to Ruin’, from the original game, one of
the jungle levels with the Venus bandicoot-traps from the second, and ‘Orient
Express’, from ‘Warped’, had in
common.
The game, most akin
to a kind of villainous ‘ hide-and-go-seek’, found me eventually trying
to flee the Island by virtue of a Rough trail lining the Western coast. Either
Sliding running down a hill that was an obvious homage to that familiar slope
that runs from the fence of my backyard down to the street, blanketed in
ice plant, which I would run down innumerable times in Actuality, I emerged on
a trail that hear kened back to one that the Hager family and I had discovered
on a larger hill similarly blanketed in their most recent residence. It is
important to note that Cindy Hager had tried,*in a meek sttempt at sternness,
to forbid her childrenm in either residence,from treading on the ‘ice plant’.
*In Actuality.
Aesthetically,this part of the dream felt like
playing the first Monkey Island game, Special Edition, and overlooking the blue
map of the first Island.
It is
difficult to discern the course of events.
I recall a scene, perhaps from a
prior dream, wherein I was on a train heading North along the Western Coast.It had undoubtedly
occurred at least once before,
In that dream, I found myself
taking a detour and emerging part of the way up to my destination to visit a town
with the Ocean to its west.
The first time I got out, it was
nearing twilight. Upon return, past nightfall, I got out at the stop again.I
entered into a tunnel like a Las Vegas hotel wherein a crowd of my peers,
predominantly strangers, participated in a competition that involved gathering
tiny toys.
I was playing croquet when
every-one was impeled by some emergency or custom, and probably both, to
evacuate.I tried lingering to finish the game. PERHAPS that had been the
predicament at dusk, and this second visit found me showing up just minutes
before the evacuation, if not seconds. At either ratem I was trying to
recover an(orange?) ball that I had long among a bunch of (green?) marbles.
dm.A.A.
Continued:
Ultimately, either by virtue of a train or by escaping the
town, wherein I was under constant (?) probation,I emerged, with others,
including but not limitedto friends, acquaintances, and strangers
who joined in a celebration of, if not
our common life, our common humanity and selfishness on the beach as the day
light came to a close with an amber sunset and might prepared to fall.It
ultimately did whilst I was swimming in the crashing waves alongside many
others. AT that point, the mood and even the colours of the deep azure sky
lingering in the south, as though,between the beachand the Ocean, it would be
visible at the south end of the inside of a tubular wave, felt exactly akin to
Maria playing through ‘Dark Hollow’ in Spyro the Dragon uponrealising that one
level remained uninvestigated.
In the town, I had, at one point or another, either in this
dream or one prior, been a girl fighting to escape from forces that threatened
to destroy her.A monster dogged her through a city that seemed to have been
taken from the second Sly Cooper game and coloured over with several vivid
shades of blue. The level that it mimicked most was the one set in Prague,,
specifically the second.
Somehow, a wave had washed over part of the city and
she managed to escape the monster by
virtue of the wave,if not by –and, if so,
probably in addition to- an automobile.
The men that had been hostile towards her had the kind of
regard to her, from the outset, that one would expect in an Anime such as
Yu-Gi-Oh or a Korean drama: Formal and businesslike, allowing them
sufficient time to show their true colours.
The chronology is again nearly impossible to recall, but a
mesh of memories is apparent. These are all set in an apartment complex that
doubtlessly is that last set of apartment houses at the end of Bernardo Point,
if not those immediately leading into
it on this side of the entrance road.
I can remember several different sequences, probably all
from different dreams.
I remember ambling into this complex in late day as though
to escape something. I was intent on hiding from a peer who patrolled th sidewalks.I ran about for some time,
seeking shelter in one house that had a
resident on the second floor. I quickly earned the mutual distrust of this
resident.
I fled to a hill wherein I could find shelter at nightfall
in a house if I could complete the video-gamelike climbing challenge toget
upthere undetected. I failed.
When I returned to the apartments, the orange liht of dusk
broke gray clouds. I met some young Mexican men who appeared to be (Catholic?)
monks.We escaped the partments to a monastery or mission by the beach.
Another dream, probably more recent, had me in the same
complex on a much more dramatic day tinged pronouncedly with more restlessness
and desperation. As though by segue from an episode in high school, I found
myself seeking something temporarily in the shadows of these dark buildings
that almost sheltered me from the cool, anxious midday Sun. If I was not
seeking refuge from the agency that had charged me with this task, I was
seeking the fulfillment of a task. One of the houses might have contained an artifact that could aid me in
fulfilling this task, like a scavenger
hunt. I did not find it, however. I returned and was accompanie d
bya monster of some sort.
The last of the three recollections, and probably the most
recent, had me running from these apartments togetto the beach nearby, fairly
early on on a day intensely bright in feeling, to juxtapose the translucent
equanimity of the solid blue sky. I had entered these apartments by exit from
one of the Back Yards I had mentioned previously.
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