Dream Journal #12
01/25/2016 07:08 p.m.
1. New House

It's night time. We've finally found where our new house is located--somewhere on the northeast corner of a large industrial complex. We drive up to the door, park the car and get our luggage out. I'm happy about the location because my job is in a warehouse somewhere else in the complex. I only regret that it is about as far from this house as it can possibly be while remaining within the borders of this property. The house itself is a converted park building. There's nothing in the immediate vicinity that looks anything like a park. We open the door and go inside; the house is dark and empty.

2. The Warehouse

I know it's somewhere, but I'm having trouble finding my workplace. It's still night time so all the buildings are shadowy and hard to distinguish. But then I see a crowd of men outside a familiar looking building and know this must be the right place. One of the men--a big kid, really-- starts running toward me and he looks angry. I look around, see a bicycle, hop on, then pedal away from the kid as fast as I can. He's still gaining on me though. So the bike turns into a car and I increase my speed to nearly 60 mph, but the kid has no trouble keeping up and is even gaining ground. He's within arms reach and I think to myself, "Man, this kid is really fast."

3. Inside the Warehouse

Finally, I'm at work but everything is unfamiliar. Another man is working with me in the basement of the warehouse. I'm dumb as a brick when it comes to knowing what I should be doing. And it's dark inside. We walk up to an opening in the concrete wall, almost like a very wide window, and the guy says to me, "We need to go up to the next level," then he climbs through the opening, twists around, and disappears. When I follow suit, the floor of the next level begins to move down, threatening to crush me as I pause between the two spaces. But when I try to quickly pull myself up to the next level, the floor rises and prevents me from going any further. No matter what I do, I'm stuck between the two levels. I can't go any further and I can't retreat.

4. Back Home

I'm inside our new house. Though it looks small on the outside, it's hugely expansive on the inside. There also seems to be quite a few more people in here than just my wife and myself. The rooms and corridors have no rhyme or reason, they sprawl all over the place and change shape at unexpected moments. There is a clutter of furniture everywhere and what seems like a million abandoned possessions. It has the look of a dusty Louise Bourgeois installation/sculpture. I have to watch where I step. As I walk down one corridor, I come to a disheveled bedroom where a middle-aged matronly sort of woman is trying to find her bed. She's both exasperated and bemused. Suddenly, a hole opens up in the ceiling and a bed falls down right on top of her. It doesn't hurt her, though, and we both laugh. I continue walking through the house, amazed at the seemingly endless supply of different rooms. Everything is dimly lit but I can see just fine. I take joy in knowing that I can choose whatever room I want for a bedroom, or office, and there's no shortage of choices. Back in the front room of the house, my wife, Nancy, has just racked her Polish wine into bottles and is putting them in a wine rack in the front corner by a window. A bunch of children are watching television on the other side of the room. It's a big screen tv with several game consoles attached. This is probably the most cluttered room in the house--old furniture everywhere, much of it tipped over, and lots of junk, clothes and other indeterminate items laying on the floor. I'm looking for a different wine rack where my own bottles of wine are aging but I can't remember where it is. So I decide to look over by Nancy's rack, but now I can't see it anymore. As I search the increasingly cluttered room, the children by the tv begin to argue and fight. The clutter grows thicker and there are now potted plants everywhere. They create obstacles, walls and intricate nooks throughout the large room. Finally I return to a part of the room I've already searched more than once and find Nancy with her rack of newly bottled Polish wine behind a wall of plants. I can't understand why this was so difficult to find, I should have seen it right away. But Nancy is beaming, she's so happy about her wine. This makes me happy too.


I am listening to Peter Tosh: Legalize It