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↑ Vantage pt for Jay Levine at tippity top of crow's nest before he jumped.

Das Boot: the first and perhaps most profound of the Dreamscape categories in that it describes not only the day-to-day adventures of a Caribbean escape, but also a moment that was much of a fulcrum or a rubicon for everyone involved, both a gathering and a dispersal. They were all twenty-four or twenty-five years old, an age where everything in the past seems like prologue and the next turned page is where the story really begins. There was a lot of debate about what comes next: plans hatched, destinies reconsidered. And soon after: Sebastian heading for Brazil, Christoph to Argentina, Helene to New Zealand, our pal Jayson and Natalie both to New York City. And the more we studied these pages, the stronger the urge became to apply allegory and deeper significance to everything that was written. And although 'reality' strongly resists such neat and tidy structuring, nonetheless here it is.

-- Eds

Das Boot i (28/33)

December 24, 1990

Choose a different dreamscape

Dreams: truncated, fragmented, twisted, shattered.

Making a film. At school, again, so I have other work I should be doing: other responsibilities. But I am trying to help some half-crazed (popular belief) filmmaker w/a big budget. In the room, he yaps + yaps about the project. Rushes on a monitor. The kid in Golden Years is the lead and we watch him in certain scenes, looking uncertain, as he does so well. Director asks for my proposal, and I realize I should have prepared something (what else is new?). He says I can give it to him on Mon. morn. Darren (Hem’s), or maybe it’s Eric Elf__ (Peachwood’s) doesn’t have one either and the director is abrupt and Darren says: “Maybe I’ll just do something else,” which infuriates director who kicks Darren immediately from the class (project).

Meeting Mom and Rick W + Dad (I think). Asked if I want to meet them at home for dinner; I say yes, although certain problems do exist w/the logistics of the endeavor.

Bank robbers. I am not involved. As though, simply, watching on a screen, I am an objective eye. On a boat. Threatening a lady who threatens back. On shore. Caught by a cop who’s mind, for some reason, I have access to, and who realizes, too late, he should have frisked one of them because he has a gun and the ability to shoot. Robber doesn’t (fear? timing?). Cop is much relieved. Etc. etc.

Today I head for the market to procure vitals for tomorrow’s feast: Fruit, fish (chicken?)

For the record: Herpecin-L works wonders on fever blisters; virtually gone in so few days.

My back, however, has decided to flake and peel to dust. Like wallpaper in an old, dry, house.

Also, dream:

Nattie returns to the boat! Red-eyed, still sniffling slightly, she reappears and when asked about parental attitude toward the return, she is vague… averted. Apparently she had commenced such a frenzied tantrum (not really, simply crying uncontrollably) that the stewardess had all rushed to her aid,either instructing her to get off the plane before it left, or else actually turning the plane back, mid flight, to alleviate her distress.

So here she is! Back w/us for three (or however many) more days.


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