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A bunch of dreams, and then some more dreams. Dreams within dreams. Is life itself a dream? Why are these all called Dreamscapes, anyway? Who are we and where do we come from?

Dreams i (5/26)

December 22, 1990

Choose a different dreamscape

Something sexy with big, then young, girls, aborted.

I have a job, something wonderfully simple in NYC, very close to my house, but I ride my bike anyway which turns out to be a mistake because once I get to the pizza store, I have to find a suitable location to lock the damn thing up, and as I am, finally, securing it to the ranch of a tree (struggling to secure all stealable pieces: both wheels, frame, seat) to the limb, I have become considerably (an hour) late to begin work. I remind myself about my resolution to really push for that strong first impression. Oh well. The lady who runs the place is understandably perturbed, as a dense pizza rush has occurred and the place is full. She sends me to the kitchen to get something which I, of course, can’t find. I’m looking in the wrong fridge. But when she comes herself to get it (pizza dough?) we both see that it had been covered + hidden by a bag of something else, so I am, at least slightly, off the hook. I apologize for being late. She says something unclear which is either forgiveness or else a warning never to do it again. Then, I think, maybe, she is in a romantic moment w/her husband / co-owner and I feel embarrassed to be present.

I am in a car. Ad-man is handing out ecstasy. Frank takes a hit, so do some other people. I say something and Ad-man looks surprised and says: “Do you want a hit or don’t you?”

I say, “Of course.”

He makes a quick switch, rearranging the pills he has left, giving me one, and I realize that he had thought that I had previously indicated a refusal to join the festivities. Had I? I don’t remember that. I say, “You still have 2 left.” He says, perhaps, “Not any more,” meaning that the new split (me included) has cleaned him out. I end up eating 1 ½ . Other people the same? We’re in a car, driving down a tree-shaded boulevard, taking a right hand turn. I feel (already) the euphoric rush.

Ok. I’m at a schoolyard (?). Some sort of party I advance toward a group of friends and I see Tammy L detach herself and come to meet me. Is there music playing? We begin to dance, exaggerated, jerking, like Ben’s performance, throwing your arms out dramatically. Joking mostly, but dancing to the music and I can hear some of the comments of the group: some laughing, catcalls (not negative), some expressions of respect for the fact that we can (and do) move to the beat. One twist or turn leaves me on my back, looking up at the high (15-20 story) brick building. I see a figure falling and for one second I think it is a trick or an acrobatic feat; then I know it is suicide. The person hits. Splat. Face first. I get to my feet and stumble away, groaning w/nausea which indicates to the others (some saw, some didn’t) that I just witnessed something awful, and at the same time I feel a vague sense of elation, and a smile on my lips for having witnessed such a slice of human drama. Around me, other partiers are imitating the act, throwing themselves into the air, and onto the ground. I say “No, you have to land teeth-first.”

The person has gotten to their feet! Remarkable. I say, disrespectful to the person, that if I would do it, there would be no room for a missed attempt. The person stumbles away. It is David O, someone decides, although I can’t recognize him from the distance.

Later, the person emerges from the front of the school and we know that he is about to go up and try again. One of us: Ad-man but not really, begins a long winded account about a Monty Python episode which I realize will either turn into a powerful parable or will, in itself, distract from the horrible nature of the person’s intent. Toward the end, Adam pretends to throw himself off the bridge in an unexpected twist, dislodging a large rock which splashes below for added realism. At this point another person comes into view on the stairwell. This is David O, clothes torn + bloody, wild look in his eyes, waiting for the 1st person (Peter C, I now recognize) to come help him in his second attempt I realize that Ad-man’s story had been alluding to the immorality of an assisted suicide and this leads me to recognize a parallel betwen this scene and Tangled Motives.

Does he try again? I don’t know.

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