It's like a caper gone sour. I'm on the run, and each successive character I run into gets sucked into, and criminalized by, my ever spiraling crimes. The cumulative weight, perhaps light and laughable before, is now heavy and deadly serious - weighing over the entire episode.
The first few chapters I can not recall. My memory begins as I'm on the run for New Orleans - or some such watery, southern state. There my path crosses, I meet with, Arnold Schwarzenegger; I manage to get in with him through the mutual acquaintance of an actress - she was involved in the previous chapter of the caper.
Although she is now dead. I break the news to Schwarzenegger, and I'm surprised by how upset he becomes. I knew actors put it on for the camera, for PR, for appearances, and suspected his emotion was a sham; but seeing how Schwarzenegger reacts to the news takes me aback a little. He is crying, inconsolable, then quiet, injured, scornful. He says he knew her well, and she was a good person - they'd worked together. He is genuine.
Schwarzenegger gets out of the cobalt blue sedan car we were in. I have no idea what he is up to - he is unresponsive, and has a glazed look of some deranged determination. He doesn't wear a jacket, and seems to be wearing a gun strap over his shirt - he must be a cop, or playing a cop. Past his attire, I look at where we are. We're on a raised carriageway; it's not a bridge, but there is water all around. There are rectangular pools of water, levees, either side of the road in a "steppe" like arrangement. In the dream I call them levees, but I have never seen a levee and do not really know what one is. Their image in the dream, in one view, is similar to rice paddies (but without the blades of rice leaves pointing up though, or the lumpy earthen borders). Rice paddies in the golden tangerine morning sun - like something you'd imagine of Sumatra, Bali, etc. As Schwarzenegger jumps over the barrier and into the water though, the arrangement still looks like levees, or a series of locks - three, on descending levels. And the levels aren't, now, themselves broken into numerous smaller pools, it's like three strips of water, three rivers, side by side, in descending order. Or they are like the "View Pool" some hotels have outside, overlooking a bay or scenic view - three levels of view pools, each spilling water down into the other when disturbed.
The water is very calm and still on each level. It looks thick, viscous almost.
Schwarzenegger, in his grief, has plunged in. And is negotiating his way down the levels. This seems a scandalous thing - either because he is a star and may be poached in this state of un-control, and/or because going in the levees is taboo in this town - and I am scrambling to think what to do.
I'm running alongside the water, on the road, and the area seems more urban and populace. I decide that I need a telephone, to make a call, to make this thing right. Schwarzenegger is in the water, mad, making his way down - I think people are starting to notice and point. I have to save this situation and somehow have found a phone. It is a cordless, not a mobile, more like a house phone (from the late 80s or the 90s). I think it is black and gold. I'm relieved to have got the phone, but as I make a call - I'm informed, by recorded message, that there is no credit on the phone and it will not connect to any line. I try again. No service until bills are paid.
I'm in a disused house, a rundown house, like a squat. There is a mentally retarded character and the Bosses have told me, or I've offered to, teach him how to serve some refreshment (alcohol, perhaps beer) from the refrigerator to the others - who are there for some kind of gambling, or other illegal thing. Everything is very cheap, dirty, dark.
The room is rectangular, not especially wide, and I'm walking length ways down to the other end of the room with the simpleton. I'm showing him the way to the fridge. I take great care, and try to set the best example of hospitality I can so he can copy and do a good job. We successfully serve some drinks to the other squatters/gamblers/people. The bosses, who seem to be middle aged blacks are happy; but at this juncture, the house has been found out, and the Police are on their way. I must run again.
I meet up with Nana. We are on the run together, somehow in the middle of all this I have accessed the internet and find out a horrible secret about Nana's past - that she starred in some adult films, was a very promiscuous Japanese porno starlet. I see images of her taking ejaculations on the face, and of her being penetrated by a man with a penis almost the same length as his upper body. He penetrates her all the way with his huge cock.
She is found out and we have to confront her past (I experience a very complex set of emotions, positive and negative, that I can not express in writing here, and do not think I can really understand yet, but the effect is very profound - even with me now as I write). I can not fathom how she handled this man with the large penis; and it makes me feel very inadequate in comparison. But that we will stay together is never in question for me.
I think we have sex.
The game is up. I'm in Italy, perhaps Roma, but I think somewhere more northern, and the police have finally tracked me down. They have also found all the previous characters I'd met, and I see them taking them and getting more and more evidence about me and what I've done. I see a procession of Japanese mothers walking their children on a very bright sunny mountain pass (the mountainous pass seems like it's in Greece for some reason) and the police have singled out one mother, who at this instant, I recall as someone I either colluded with or perpetrated a crime, unwittingly, against. She tells all.
I'm trying to escape in a small car, and the Italian police are hot in pursuit. The chase passes stone houses, castles, and autumn woods (not many, or no, leaves on the trees); trying to shake off the cops I veer off the road and suddenly see the action from plan, or birds eye view. I've landed my car on a huge conical tile roof - brown or grey - the roof is many orders of magnitude larger than my car, and so the car looks like a toy in comparison. I spiral around and down the tiled roof, almost out of control. The police are on me. I wake.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Morning of 19th December - Short Nap
Nana and me are walking past a pool. We're in Hawaii; it must be a family vacation as our baby is with us. We're walking toward the beach, but decide we'll have a swim in the pool first. Nana stands on the diving board and it snaps (I'd watched a film the previous day where the same thing happens to Russell Crowe). I jump in and get her - and do not recall the next sequence at all.
We've been swimming in the sea and are now finished. My baby is toddler's age in the dream (although in waking life she is a newborn) , and we are drying her off. Somehow a cape and hat of sand have been made for her, and we are assured this is the best way to dry as she toddles off in front of us, the sand sieving off the cape as she goes. We are passing the pool again, and being covered in sand, decide to dip in to wash it off. There is another family in the pool, 3 people, but I only really notice the male - the rest are inferred, or not visually noticed. I stare at him as we walk past, making no attempt to say hello; contrarily, I suddenly feel I need to impress myself upon the other man, and establish myself as the alpha male. I strut, looking down at my own puffed chest I see I'm wearing black trunks. The man and his family are at the head of the pool; Nana, out in front of me, is circling around the foot of the pool, and I'm tracking her path. We dive in not at the head, but close to it at the high end of the right side of the pool; the man is on the left side. I dive in and make a round of the pool - much as a boxer makes a round of the ring when he gets in - and do it in a graceful swirling stroke. I'm suprised at my prowess with this stroke: I feel strong, and glide through the water faster than expected. I feel the man must be impressed.
One circuit completed, I return the right side of the head of the pool, and decide to do a length underwater, holding my breath. After the previous display, and realization of my swimming strength, I'm very confident that this will be easy. I showboat a little, slowing down my decent into the water, after a modest inhale of air; wishing to stamp my superiority with a little panache. Before even beginning my swim to the other end, I realize as soon as I'm under water that I don't have enough air to get going. And my previous athleticism in the pool has also gone: I don't feel as though one push against the wall would glide me to the other side in no time. But I frantically try to boost from the wall as best I can - I doesn't get me more than a body length forward, and I now feel my oxygen gone completely. I struggle, there's no way I'm going to come up early. The air is really gone, my body attempts to respirate - pure reflex. Some water comes in through my nose. Choking I surface.
I'm shocked that this is the first time I've ever inhaled underwater. That's never happened before.
We are in an Egyptian exhibit, but the building is not a museum - it seems to be a hospital ward. Nana and the baby go off in front, as I'm interested in one display exhibit - an ancient King's sword - and want to linger. I suspect another reason is that I'm attracted to the tour guide who is explaining the pieces.
She is a middle aged woman, with an asian look, but not explicitly oriental. She looks a bit worn and tired - bored of the job. But what I really notice are her plump breasts, and slim figure. I think I am genuinely interested in the sword too, however.
I attract her attention, and comment that it looks like a Roman Gladius (it doesn't exactly as I see later). I want her to notice my reference, and without me telling her, I want her to know that I know the Gladius is more modern than an Egyptian sword, and that the Gladius itself was not Roman, but perhaps Celtic. She doesn't notice - she doesn't really understand my comment, as though she knows nothing of history. I say again, this time altering my pronunciation of "Gladius." She tells me something unrelated, and I'm a little frustrated (because I haven't established I'm a bit knowledgeable).
I change my tack, and ask her a question: where did the Egyptians get steel from this early? She again replies with some completely different information. I repeat; she again does not understand, or does not want to engage. I notice her English is certainly spoken as a second language, and repeat my question in Japanese - and I embellish it, in Japanese, with the qualifications: "did they make steel themselves?"; "or, did they import from another state?" I genuinely want to know if the Egyptians had the technical ability to make steel. She seems confused by my questioning, and a little annoyed by it.
I see the exhibit more clearly - it is not shaped like a Gladius as I first took it to be, it is more like a diamond from the card suit, although asymmetric: the blade is slightly longer than the hilt. Its shape reminds me of a chalice; even the holy grail.
The lady and me are over by a window overlooking the Hawaiian mountains and bay - there are a few concrete tower blocks in view, and it is not picturesque at all. She sits down on a bed (hospital style bed) and I sit on the adjoining one. She begins to talk about how she doesn't like her job and isn't interested in its subject. She continues to complain about work. I notice her breasts again and again think, although with no real conviction, that I'd like to fuck her. She complains that she is so tired, and gets so sleepy; and I see this as a chance to shift the conversation away from her and her work, and introduce my personality to it (impress her). I agree, laughing, and tell her that 3 and 4 (p.m.) are the hardest hours to get through - I hold up my right hand as I say "3 and 4", showing three fingers, palm side to her, then four, swiveling my four fingered hand to show the back. I'm sure that this will elicit a smile, or some concession, from her, and from there I can seduce and have her. It does not work.
I wake.
We've been swimming in the sea and are now finished. My baby is toddler's age in the dream (although in waking life she is a newborn) , and we are drying her off. Somehow a cape and hat of sand have been made for her, and we are assured this is the best way to dry as she toddles off in front of us, the sand sieving off the cape as she goes. We are passing the pool again, and being covered in sand, decide to dip in to wash it off. There is another family in the pool, 3 people, but I only really notice the male - the rest are inferred, or not visually noticed. I stare at him as we walk past, making no attempt to say hello; contrarily, I suddenly feel I need to impress myself upon the other man, and establish myself as the alpha male. I strut, looking down at my own puffed chest I see I'm wearing black trunks. The man and his family are at the head of the pool; Nana, out in front of me, is circling around the foot of the pool, and I'm tracking her path. We dive in not at the head, but close to it at the high end of the right side of the pool; the man is on the left side. I dive in and make a round of the pool - much as a boxer makes a round of the ring when he gets in - and do it in a graceful swirling stroke. I'm suprised at my prowess with this stroke: I feel strong, and glide through the water faster than expected. I feel the man must be impressed.
One circuit completed, I return the right side of the head of the pool, and decide to do a length underwater, holding my breath. After the previous display, and realization of my swimming strength, I'm very confident that this will be easy. I showboat a little, slowing down my decent into the water, after a modest inhale of air; wishing to stamp my superiority with a little panache. Before even beginning my swim to the other end, I realize as soon as I'm under water that I don't have enough air to get going. And my previous athleticism in the pool has also gone: I don't feel as though one push against the wall would glide me to the other side in no time. But I frantically try to boost from the wall as best I can - I doesn't get me more than a body length forward, and I now feel my oxygen gone completely. I struggle, there's no way I'm going to come up early. The air is really gone, my body attempts to respirate - pure reflex. Some water comes in through my nose. Choking I surface.
I'm shocked that this is the first time I've ever inhaled underwater. That's never happened before.
We are in an Egyptian exhibit, but the building is not a museum - it seems to be a hospital ward. Nana and the baby go off in front, as I'm interested in one display exhibit - an ancient King's sword - and want to linger. I suspect another reason is that I'm attracted to the tour guide who is explaining the pieces.
She is a middle aged woman, with an asian look, but not explicitly oriental. She looks a bit worn and tired - bored of the job. But what I really notice are her plump breasts, and slim figure. I think I am genuinely interested in the sword too, however.
I attract her attention, and comment that it looks like a Roman Gladius (it doesn't exactly as I see later). I want her to notice my reference, and without me telling her, I want her to know that I know the Gladius is more modern than an Egyptian sword, and that the Gladius itself was not Roman, but perhaps Celtic. She doesn't notice - she doesn't really understand my comment, as though she knows nothing of history. I say again, this time altering my pronunciation of "Gladius." She tells me something unrelated, and I'm a little frustrated (because I haven't established I'm a bit knowledgeable).
I change my tack, and ask her a question: where did the Egyptians get steel from this early? She again replies with some completely different information. I repeat; she again does not understand, or does not want to engage. I notice her English is certainly spoken as a second language, and repeat my question in Japanese - and I embellish it, in Japanese, with the qualifications: "did they make steel themselves?"; "or, did they import from another state?" I genuinely want to know if the Egyptians had the technical ability to make steel. She seems confused by my questioning, and a little annoyed by it.
I see the exhibit more clearly - it is not shaped like a Gladius as I first took it to be, it is more like a diamond from the card suit, although asymmetric: the blade is slightly longer than the hilt. Its shape reminds me of a chalice; even the holy grail.
The lady and me are over by a window overlooking the Hawaiian mountains and bay - there are a few concrete tower blocks in view, and it is not picturesque at all. She sits down on a bed (hospital style bed) and I sit on the adjoining one. She begins to talk about how she doesn't like her job and isn't interested in its subject. She continues to complain about work. I notice her breasts again and again think, although with no real conviction, that I'd like to fuck her. She complains that she is so tired, and gets so sleepy; and I see this as a chance to shift the conversation away from her and her work, and introduce my personality to it (impress her). I agree, laughing, and tell her that 3 and 4 (p.m.) are the hardest hours to get through - I hold up my right hand as I say "3 and 4", showing three fingers, palm side to her, then four, swiveling my four fingered hand to show the back. I'm sure that this will elicit a smile, or some concession, from her, and from there I can seduce and have her. It does not work.
I wake.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Night of 14th December 2009
Everyone is swimming at the indoor pool. I don't join in because I'm sensitive to the feelings of my former Boss, who is one of the swimmers (in waking life I've recently tried to repair relations between us, to not much avail). The swimmers are playing a game of swimming a length underwater without coming up for air. I was good at this game when I was younger and am keen to join in, but my passive (in real life he is not) Boss's presence is holding me back. I'm sure if I join in it will further offend him.
I'm told things might be ok, and my Boss and I cross eyelines at one moment as he is walking around the pool, close to me. I can't decide if things really will be alright, but I want to be positive. I jump in the pool and instantly cause some tension amongst the group. As I arrive at the shallow end, suddenly there is very little water in the pool, and the swimming session has been ruined.
I'm watching a football game on the television - and am startled because it must be the world cup. It is England versus an African nation (there is no African nation in England's actual group for 2010). The television is an old set, with a curved glass screen, and the picture is a little fuzzy. I'm very excited, and hope for England's win. The opposing team seems to have become Holland, and England lose the game 2-1. I wake.
I'm told things might be ok, and my Boss and I cross eyelines at one moment as he is walking around the pool, close to me. I can't decide if things really will be alright, but I want to be positive. I jump in the pool and instantly cause some tension amongst the group. As I arrive at the shallow end, suddenly there is very little water in the pool, and the swimming session has been ruined.
I'm watching a football game on the television - and am startled because it must be the world cup. It is England versus an African nation (there is no African nation in England's actual group for 2010). The television is an old set, with a curved glass screen, and the picture is a little fuzzy. I'm very excited, and hope for England's win. The opposing team seems to have become Holland, and England lose the game 2-1. I wake.
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About Me
- Tom
Likes: writing
Dislikes: those things where you find yourself writing in third-person like someone else wrote the bio on you; but we all know how this works...
