Monday, April 24, 2006



So many dreams I didn’t want to write a single one of them down…except that one was about chaos at work. And one involved Dina and me and one involved me double housesitting so I hired a group of teens to fill in for me.



I am holding hands with my father, walking down a date tree lane, talking about them. Then I bring his hand to the crack of my butt, and he carresses me there. we walk aroudn the block and it turns into night. The sky is so beautifully starry. We’re on our backs on the grass behind a building. Then he spies chocolate and other treats. We exclaim and dig. It’s the Easter Bunny’s candy, I say.

Throughout, I was conscious of this being my father and conscious of not wanting it to be my father.

Other dreams I forget.


Dreams was so stressful that I woke up with pimples forming on my forehead and chin!


JK came up to me, as I was in some dusty basement. There were lots of other people there, too—an open-to-the-public-thing, a museum? We kissed in greeting. But he didn’t stop kissing me, and so we made out. It was really hot. We started to having sex. But something was wrong that I don’t remember—uncomfortable. I said, I’m not comfortable with all these people around. And he was disappointed. But followed me as we tried to find another place. Was a little disappointed because he thought it would have been really kinky. I remember him sneaking us into an “invites only” place on Main Street. But as we were resuming, people (other invitees) kept coming in. We had split apart on Main Street and I don’t think I met up with him again—but I remember feeling very unresolved about the whole thing. And next I remember being in the shower, but the water won’t let down. I shut it off and get out, and the water continues to rise and spill out of the tub. I’m trying to figure out what to do to stop this. There’s a lever on the side of the tub that I slowly push, not really knowing what it does—could be what will stop the water from flowing. Could also be that lever that releases the floodgate waters that I had heard about (this is not a good thing) but I wasn’t sure. And I’d never been told about the floodgate thing anyway. So whatever I do, I do innocently.

It was the floodgate lever—we lived in an estate on a hill, in close proximity with other houses, like the neighborhood on Protero Hill I lived in for a bit. And it was a concrete wall that screened our courtyard from the street. Once the floodgate waters were released, I watched with wonderment as water crashed through and tore down the concrete wall between our ouse and our neighbors and flowed with amazing velocity onto the street. I knew that there was a huge amount of damage and material recovery costs involved in all this. I realized that people would be angry, sad, disappointed, all sorts of emotion. I was feeling merely washed—feeling awed by the immense power of what I’d unleashed. Not fearing reprocussions or accusations. Actually firm in the belief that I will be forgiven, that all will be all right, and that everything is happening as it should be.

Our estate, (I had some ownership of it somehow) was very big, and so underoccupied that we were renting it out as a conference site (there was one there then, as small annual group of writers or philosophers).


DL went to that invite only place on Main Street to rent a room and was told that prices had gone up. Used to be you could rent out a night for $100 - $200, but now the key security fee was $18,000. His jaw dropped in show. He was looking for a nice place to treat Kim for a honeymoon or something. We were all giving him advice, the majorty of which was to have Kim come down—that the fee would probably be different (less) if it was her.


A very confusing activity-laden dream taking place in Dina’s apartment. Bookstore business with Nancy and DK. Dina. Suz. Everyone else who usually appears in my dreams, I guess.

These are my dreams.



LK trying to give away her peacock. Talking up its qualities: you can eat it, cook with it. It can sing to you, etc. Feathers, meats…

I do want it, but what would I do with it? Dina volunteers to take it. I say thanks to her for taking it—and she say thanks to me for not following my impulse so now she get a great bird.


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