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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 (8/26)

December 25, 1990

Choose a different dreamscape

A tumultuous night afforded brief glimpses of deep sleep and extended periods of dream-fraught tossing + turning.

Primarily: Annette. Reuniting, I am with her in a sunny field by water, at a table. She tells me of her plan to attend one of the many intensified artist workshops she had suggested to me. Her whole family (parents) are there. At this table. I make a very witty comment at her expense which sends me into hysterics but elicits a smile from my audience. Their minds are on some somber subject about which I have yet to be informed.

I am in a room, meeting her brothers who are really the Ottobridge clan. Tremendous hostility confronts me, exhibited in phrases such as: “I liked you a lot better the 1st time we met.” Fights break out. Everyone against everyone. I am pulled out of the fruckus. 

In a dark room, upstairs, in a large, luxurious + expensive mansion. Shaking her father’s hand. Does he only have 2 fingers?

In another room, he operates a remote-control helicopter, full scale, which breaks, sending one rotor spinning out the window. A very expensive part, he is loathe to lose it and begins to direct it, spinning + deadly, back through the window using the remote control. This is when, watching this sharpened blade of steel crash and careen off the walls of this room, I realize that I am in a new form of video game. I am part of it! I remember, in my dream, beginning to play the game, wondering if it would be boring like so many others. Now I am in it.

Dark. Nighttime. I am in bed with my cat who I love and snuggle + murmur and the cat is licking the back of my neck in a way which makes me laugh and I’m trying to keep my giggling low because M+D are in bed trying to sleep nearby. They may be laughing at my laughing.

Other characters – 2 body builders (male + female) into bondage. Later: Chris F and Kerri __ playing pool at the Hotel Caselba in Cuernavaca. Kerri is somehow demonstrating how if only this… if only that… she would have won the game and also played the best pool of her life. I, somehow, watch the replay. She shoots one ball, then another, and on the 3rd the felt rips with a horrible tearing sound which sets our teeth on edge and decisively ends the game.

More about the incredible video game. It is a game in which you become a part: more participant than a player. I later try to reenter, remembering the exciting realism, but it’s lie a cross between an enormous game board and an amusement park, and I’m not sure which ride is the one I want. The MC/coordinator/Madam directs my attention toward a number of stunningly beautiful women in bikinis. It is my coise. I recognize these women from different periods in my life. I know if I choose one she will become a character, like myself, in one story within the game.

Someone leads me into a movie theater. We are in the game, but it’s different now. It’s a movie that we watch and in which we become, simply, engrossed, not a part. I look around nervously and slide low in my seat because somehow we didn’t pay the $15 admittance fee.

In a well-lighted room with people drinking heavily. HOstile people. Joey(?) (Annette’s husband) slouches in a chair, so drunk he can’t finish his thoughts. He attempts conversation w/me, amiable enough, although I know he despises my relationship w/his wife and it is for this that he drinks in such quantity. But he can’t create coherent thoughts. He gives up, apologetically blaming the alcohol. I suggest a vodka gimlet, noticing a bottle of Absolute and some cut limes on the table. “Would anyone like a gimlet,” I offer.

“What type?” another drunk mutters from another chair.

“Absolute,” I say, holding up the bottle.

“Make mine Beefeater.”

I realize that there are other bottles, equally full, in a compartment beneath the table, like on the boat.

R is there. Also drinking? I entice him to join me in a voyage toward complete inebriation (I am not, obviously, as drunk as the others). He says, “There’s nothing left.” I hold up the ½ full vodka. And so much more! I woke during the night numerous times with the impression of terrific images flying away from my soul.

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