Friday, December 20, 2013

Dream Journal Sixty-three.


  1. Ryan Allen Kelly appeared in last night’s dream. He was accompanied by a substantial part of the Palomar poets, among whom must have been Malinda Grace and Cynthia Leyva.

The setting must have been outside of the courtyard from the dream that I had had two nights ago,  although there is a chance that the events may have befallen withinthe confines of this courtyard, or otherwise the University grounds.The attribution of that prior image to the setting may very well be a misattribution, however.

The setting was akin to Prague as I would imagine it to  appear according to reading Kafka and the way it is portrayed in Sly 2. I had met with these poets under the auspices of enacting social change, but it is possible, and in fact probable, that, at least insofar asmy meeting with Ryan, the meeting was a chance occurrence but one that by its appropriateness seemed divinely arranged.

            I met with Ryan at a bar. Either that had been so or we had met outside the pizza parlour. He was amiable, with the demeanour of a boyish playfulness but, disappointingly, a disillusioning perpetual disillusion and an embarrassment that surpassed himself and accounted also others.

There was a giant boot that we, as a group, were working to clean. Unless I am mistaken, we had to lick this boot. There was a government that we were working to subvert.A flood interrupted our effort. Our intent had been to move it.

 

Later on, the group remained intact, although the sense of estrangement by virtue of cynicism from them persisted. I was invited to present my poetry in a large auditorium as part of a Reading.Ryan presented prior to me. The auditorium resembled in mood the austere grandeur of the Viennese concert halls wherein Mozart performed in the film  ‘Amadeus’. This was surely a testament to my tendency to have Romantic and Bohemian standards for my self-image,  in large part drawn from searching for ontological meaning in films such as that one. The hall, however, appeared larger, more open, and refreshingly more Modern and immediate.

Its general aura was obviously taken from the atrium wherein I performed my poem protesting facebook in Actual Life. The audience, which did not feel at all (and in fact was not) crowded in number seemed regardless to have a Titanic presence of a kind of gentle pity in temperament. There may, in fact, have been more people there, but my focus was almost exclusively on the young, absent–minded Mexican girls sitting at the front. They were a direct replica of the young women whose presence I noted in the Actual audience at Palomar College, by whom in Actual Life, I was taken aback.Their behaviour in Actuality was such a disinterested collective poker face that I had felt a tinge of inconsequential but nonetheless marginally substantial recrimination for what I took to have been an insult to a pivotal tenet of their lifestyle.

 

 

  1. The latter dream from last night’s series was a relatively drawn-out and, as with all dreams pertaining to Dana Mohammad-Zadeh, direct allegory whose details cling to the memory with a vividity to rival the episode wherein Ryan had made his debut. There was a Multi-Cultural Faire of sorts which was characterized chiefly by a formality and solemnity(might it have been a ‘breath-taking solemnity’?) that would have been more appropriate to a Coalition.Representatives of a cornucopia of ethnicities had to stifle their rivalries and unmitigated but veiled hostilities to partake in a festival that was its own preparation and wherein the patronage was restricted to the workers (among whom were the organizers) and the activities supposedly never surpassed the labor. It was set in a warehouse arranged like a supermarket, much like the segregated nook of the Costco wherein the fruits are or were located, with towers of boxes of food items, usually if not entirely Crates, stood out like the monolithic Shelves one passes in the first level of Jak II(wherein Daxter teaches Jak the double-jump) against an impartially objective gray set of walls as their backdrop. It is difficult to remember how so and at what intervals, but the memory is incontrovertible of a substantial part of this immense array, which was also somehow outdoors, being partly flooded. Our task was to use tiny vessels to traverse the space, remaining chiefly in the shade of the monolithic towering crates.

The light was a penetrating amber as morally demanding and sensibly anxious as Amber herself. I was charged by an archetypal man both physically and in practical wisdom my Elder,like a stern Zen master with less cleverness and illumined light-heartedness, with the task of transporting three vessels of orange liquid that was purportedly  Apple Juice. I was a representative of the Arab race and nations, although I do not think that I was Arab at all. The older man I remember from the Arab nation I was a part of may have been the one to appoint me, but a more precise memory would probably (?) disprove this.With certainty, however, I recall his unRomantic,Stoic gruffness.

Early on, we were instructed to face one another in a sort of rectangular group circle encircling the open space, like a courtyard that was unoccupied either by people nor by boxes at the center of the fragment of this arrangement we all occupied. The ritual was most akin to a religious ceremony, solemn, formal, and methodical.We made sure to keep close to our towers.I saw Dana across the watery stretch, only slightly,diagonally, to my Right.

She acknowledge me over the course of this dream moreso than in any of her prior appearances, yet she ensured that our interactions remain absurdly formal, as if we wqere strangers and our companionship did not surpass our uncomfortable philanthropic duty.

            Over the course of the enactment of this duty, I struggled to fulfill whatever my role had been,ultimately failing. Something akin to either a robbery or a loss must have befallen, yet it may have not.It had probably been by virtue of an absurd assignment, unreliable team mates, and  incompetent leadership that I failed.

 

The dream culminated in a public restroom.A large number of the participants from the faire had retired into these wide chambers, if not most or even all of them.I took the opportunity, probably, to pursue Dana.

There were Red stalls in a chamber that seemed on the whole most akin to a transit station in interior design, ample in space and with an alleviatingly Real darkness, like the sanctity of an Ocean.

Dana approached me whilst I was in a stall.She was not Dana, however, but another woman, with terrifyingly gorgeous features and the tantalizing immediacy of a succubus.

She began to ask me questions, implying that I had difficulty with women.I pointed out that I liked Dana, but she then asked, with venom, why I had not been more upfront with Dana. I had been gazing to the left of her and slightly downwards in contemplation of these questions and accusations. Now I looked up into her eyes again, as though with slight longing. I recognized her, then, as Ally Nicholson.

 

                        dm.A.A.

 

3.A group of very old friends, who may very well have been my group of lunchmates from high school,had become reunited under fairly unromantic auspices.

What is certain is that Jeff Carter was among them.

Dana stood before us, and, with my probable prompting, we conspired and openly offered to entertain her.

We formed a human wall, an homage to the sort of blockade we had made in our hallway towards the end of our Senior Year in high school, once the bell at the end of lunch had rung.Whereas, in that arrangement, we would only touch shoulders when one or another of our schoolmates approached, each of whom had been a good sport, in this instance we were consistently  clumped togetherm Jeff most notably at my left. Our act involved allowing a tiny space to appear between two of us, as though we were emulating the mountainous wall, with its crevasse, from Chris’s childhood dream.
                                                                                                                                                   dm.A.A.

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