Sunday, October 21, 2007

Old dream log

I used to write down all my dreams as soon as I woke up. I need to start doing that again. I just found a log of dreams I wrote down from 2002 & 2003. I can surprisingly remember many of them very vividly. Certain scenes are still embedded. I can remember certain people from the dreams even though they were not people I knew in real life. Here are some I rather like:

I am working as a security cop at a store in the mall. At some point I go down under the store to use the bathroom, and then receive an announcement that the world within a 5 mile radius of the store is going to be destroyed by radiation. I lead a crowd out of the store into an open air mall. We break into a candy store and begin hording food, then get on a subway train that will take us away from danger. The train runs over numerous people walking on the tracks, including a mermaid that is somehow swimming there. On the train Kid Rock and some other musician are sitting with a naked woman, who shows me her ass, and they tell me how good she is. When the train reaches its destination, we begin walking along a strip next to a number of people going to opposite direction very slowly in their cars. I talk to numerous people in the cars about what’s going on. My mother and sister are with me now. We run into one kid who has lost his mother. One of the men in the car with a huge family says they’ve been there for 3 weeks. Another large family is explaining to the whimpering children how they will have to eat tents to stay alive.

I’m doing crunches on a cement block in front of Wheeler High School, waiting for people to get out of class. Finally they do and begin crossing the street to get their cars from the middle school across the street. I watch a guy and girl ride on a motorcycle and have an accident right in front of my parents' house, and they don’t get up. I try to go call 911 but they get up before I make it over there. I offer to take them home and go get in my cardboard car. By the time I come back they are gone, and it is night. I start going down the sidewalk to look for them, but can’t find them, and then start coming back. At some point I rise in the air and then turn around and see myself sitting in a line with 5 others on the sidewalk, playing wind instruments.

(3) KKK
On my way to school, I stop in my car in the rain to have lunch at an outdoor table. I run into Lindsey from Wheeler and two other girls on their way to class. As I am eating a group of black guys come up to me and start a conversation. Eventually they ask to see my driver’s license. I give it to them, and they make me get up and get in a black car. I think I am being kidnapped, but in the car I am told to put on a black uniform and facemask, and am then given a mace. We drive to a huge Waffle House and tent where there is a KKK / White Power rally going on. We are going to attack them. There are about 30 people with us, and we infiltrate through the crowd and begin hitting random people. Eventually I get separated from the group and go through a long path of trying to find them, including going through a plastic lobby that is too small for me.

I am moving through a huge collection of looming apartment buldings. When I go into them, trying to find an old friends room, all the rooms have plate glass viewing windows, and inside them there are extremely gorgeous and overly tanned girls lying naked asleep in white sheets. Anytime that I stop to look at one of them they wake up and turn away from me or begin to scream out. I continually get lost in the halls and am told to leave by numerous random girls that somehow seem to be the leader of their areas. At some point I end up under an overpass and a Jamaican man comes to my window while I wait alone at red light, and taps on my window, tells me to watch myself.

I’m working at a warehouse on the first day that it is being converted to a strip bar / music venue. I’m helping this redneck line up girls and bands to audition for performance roles. One guy is hired to beat the shit out of bands before they are allowed to audition, to make sure they are rough. I talk briefly to a girl wearing all brown and eating a root beer Dum-Dum.

I am walking through the halls of my elementary school, waiting for a bus to come pick up and take me to my high school graduation. I am carrying a cup full of water with my infant son inside of it. Outside of the cafeteria, the cup is accidentally spilled and the baby begins to shrivel on the tile. I try to rehydrate it in another cup of water but it is too late, the baby is dead.

I am guest lecturing at an elementary school on the benefits on television consumption. The kids, lined up against one wall, watch me unresponsively, not bothering to respond to my attempts to engage them in questions. They seem either sedated or scared. I rattle off propaganda about how memories are related to television programming in the mind. After the class, I go out into a Wizard of Oz type world, and head under a large bridge to a place where people are waiting outside of an open air stadium for a concert to begin. Three of the performers, Marilyn Manson, and two members of N’Sync, come out of a back entrance near us on stilts that literally make them stand almost 250 feet in the air, but they seem to have no trouble walking on them. Everyone gets excited and follows after them as they head down the street. A group of high school age girls call me over and one of them begins asking me a lot of questions, but it seems they are doing this to make fun of me. To try to impress them, I show them that I have Brad Pitt’s number in my cell phone, and then call him, only to find out that he is also outside the concert watching the stilt walkers.

Rolling around in the floor of a drugstore with a girl who is trying to get me to kiss her. Then sitting on a curb with William S. Burroughs, having a talk. He mentions The Wild Boys and I tell him that it is my favorite novel of his. He thanks me kindly.

I am walking down the street from my parents house, and I pass St. Catherine’s church. Their lot is covered with stacks of bloody teenage bodies, all dressed in blue jeans and t-shirts. People are walking around the yard of bodies, which must be in the hundreds of thousands, taking pictures and posing with the corpses. I keep walking past as if this is normal sight. I get to a mansion in the middle of a moat filled with pudding. Miriah and Lee are on a dried part of the pudding, painting it different colors.

I’m at Disney World by myself, but it is more like a bunch of huge office buildings clustered together than how the park really is. I have all of my possessions carried with me in bags and its hard to walk around. I go down a flight of stairs to get to the AMTRAK, but instead it turns out to be a ride and people fill in behind me. I end up in an empty room where about ten other people come together and we start talking about things. Everything I say makes everyone laugh a lot. Matthew Broderick shows up and sits naked at a table. Then one of the girls there starts trying to assault me, and she has to be restrained. I fend her off with a torn bit of an aluminum can until she is put away inside a glass jar. Then I take the jar to be given to my lawyers.

I fall asleep in an unfinished basement with an empty notebook in my hands. When I wake up the book is filled with all kinds of elaborate sketches that I must have done while I was asleep. The room is now filled with numerous people that I went to school with. I show them the book, then go upstairs to find my mother and show her. The sketches are all very odd (one of a parade of figures on the globe including multiples Jesuses, one of just faces in a flock floating forward, on and on). Then we try to go to a college campus, but the area between the campus and the house is overrun with bums who make it very dangerous. Riot police jumpkick certain bums in the face. One grabs my ass until I give him two dollars.


Anonymous said...

i like these.

Josh Maday said...

Here's my favorites in order:


Okay, not really, but it almost works.

Number 7 is similar to one of my dreams, only mine was just outside the cemetery gates; but there was a bridge/overpass nearby.

I used to write my dreams down, too. I turned one of them into a story that I entered in a contest at Bewildering Stories. It has to do with penis-mutilating beetles on a J.G. Ballardian sand planet. I'm not kidding. It's still posted there, I think.

Your dreams are fun to read. Were they as fun to dream? I imagine it's more disturbing to be dreaming them. I think I am going to write interpretations for each one and see what happens.


i always like my dreams. these are about 6 years old. i think they are more jacked now.

i will try to find your ballard story...