I stopped at a rest stop along the highway. Two men in line for food inside appeared to be prisoners. They were saying something like, “That one’s for me, that other one’s for you.” I realized they were talking about women at a whorehouse that had been set up out back. Later in the dream I was recalling the dream itself to certain people who had been in the dream.
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Wednesday, January 23, 2019
We were on vacation at a beach. I had packed extravagantly but had forgotten my sandals. There was talk of going home briefly on the first day and I was hoping we could get them. I found myself in an office in a building on a sprawling campus. I had the feeling I was in a TV show. A man was telling me that all of human knowledge and experience was located here, within a sculpture of a brain that was set onto a table. I contemplated it with awe. Suddenly another man walked into the office and I knew he was the personification of that knowledge.
Tuesday, January 22, 2019
We were on our way out of a vacation home, packing and locking up. We went to a restaurant for a final meal. I got most of my dish, a mixed salad, to go. Then I spilled it as the next guests sat at our table. Some landed in a woman’s handbag and I apologized. I realized I’d forgotten some things at the house—my phone, some other things—and I told S. to wait for me. I realized it was taking me a long time.
Sunday, January 20, 2019
I was watching a documentary about the last, miserable days of the Grateful Dead. The tour beset by riots and threats. They were onstage now, with Jerry fading into the background. At one point he played from behind a wall, half backstage. He didn’t look too bad though, and bore a whimsical smile, like it all amused him after all. They played “El Paso,” which turned into an impromptu song with the refrain “Fuck Roger Goodell.” Vince led this, and at the end he turned to the band and said “fuck that guy!,” like he’d been personally wronged. I noticed J. T. was playing bass, not Phil. Come to think of it, I did remember him telling me he sat in with the Dead way back when. I made a mental note to ask him about it. Because it was remarkable when you think about it.
A book of old texts and photographs depicting rugged men of the Old West, long-haired and bearded, who belonged to some esoteric spiritual group.
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
I was trying to buy a guitar, a knockoff Gibson semi-hollow body, on Amazon on my phone. I was in a classroom and the bell had rung and I was still trying to decide the color—maybe green, maybe black. I really wanted to do it before class began. The teacher was up front, annoyed that my phone was making all kinds of noises.
Tuesday, January 15, 2019
A gambling dream. It was a table game that looked like an elementary children’s board game, like Candyland, where you roll the dice and move your piece. I was doing very well, at first taking my turn and then betting on other peoples’ turns. Then something happened in someone’s move that was a derivative of the game and required another bet. I put down much more money than I needed to, thinking what the hell, and lost. The dealer counted the spaces in the resulting move and the piece landed squarely at the end of the game. I thought that had to mean we won. But he shook his head and said, “Not good.” He admitted he didn’t like the odds for us in that situation.
Thursday, January 10, 2019
I was taking a computer programming exam that I was completely unprepared for. Fuck it, I thought. Maybe I could guess at some of the answers. Maybe it would be multiple choice. The pencils they provided were very short. I had some difficulty writing my name clearly in the designated spot as there was a background, like a heavy watermark. A part of the test was collaborative so we broke into groups. Mine entered a room where the instructions were to "find a calendar with equal sides with another equal side." I thought I saw it, there, on the floor.
Wednesday, January 09, 2019
Thursday, January 03, 2019
Wednesday, January 02, 2019
There was a terrible scandal at UConn that made the front page of the Times. Something to do with administrators who had lied to cover up sex abuse. There was something else, too, a scheme to embezzle funds maybe. The story ran to multiple pages in multiple sections—continued on page A whatever, and so on. I struggled to figure out where it began and where it went. I thought about the basketball team, soldiering on through it all. Then I was in school, neglecting my duties. Skipping that English literature class again, the one with tons of reading that I’d never done.
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