Dream of: 22 September 1990 "Waking Up"

I had gone to visit Kim (an old friend, a few years younger than I, whom I had first met Portsmouth in 1977) in a room where she was living. It was apparently almost dawn, and I had been up all night. Earlier I had taken a hallucinogenic drug, most of the effects of which had already worn off. However I was definitely still feeling the drug. I wanted to talk with Kim, but I really didn't feel like communicating at the moment; so I thought I might just listen to a cassette tape I had which contained a number of songs which I had recorded from various albums. I had the feeling that Kim was likewise sleepy at the moment and that she would rather listen to music than talk. I asked her if it would be ok to listen to a cassette; when she approved, I asked her if she had any headphones which I could put on. She rose and retrieved for me a rather nice set of headphones which reminded me of some I had, except hers were all black.

When I started to put on my cassette, she stopped me. She looked at the names of the songs which I had written on the cassette and told me she didn't particularly like those songs, and would rather hear one of her own cassettes. I didn't object, although I would have preferred to have heard my songs especially since I was still feeling the effects of the drug. It had been a long time since I had listened to music under the effects of a drug, and I recalled how much meaning could be perceived in music under the influence of drugs. But I figured I would still be able to get something out of her songs.

She put on her cassette and the first song played. My attention apparently lapsed, because I didn't seem to get much out of the song. I focused more intently on the second song, the title of which was "Go to Hell." As the song played, I thought of what it might be like in hell. The song seemed to give me the idea that hell could be a place where there was no sound or music. And it might be a place were there was no sight. In fact I imagined hell might be simply the spirit of the person placed somewhere in space away from everything else where the person would have no contact with anyone or anything. But think of it what if there were many such spirits drifting like that in a particular area of space? And what if someday as the earth traveled through space, the earth and its inhabitants came in contact with the drifting spirits? It would be an epochal event in history, worthy of being recorded in amazing stories.

As I lay there, it seemed as if I had been listening to the song for a very long time, but I realized it was still only the second song. It seemed that part of the time I had been listening, I had dozed off and had listened to the music while I had been sleeping. I began thinking of Kim. I wondered if it might be possible to have sex with her. I imagined her lying on her back naked on the bed. Her pubic hairs looked soft and blonde. But although she had an attractive body, I didn't feel aroused by her. Plus I had vague thoughts of my wife Carolina and feelings that I couldn't betray her.

As my hazy thoughts continued, I began to awaken and realized I had dreamed the entire event with Kim. The room I was in was actually my room, which looked like the room in the dream which I had thought had been Kim's room. One difference was that my bed was in the middle of the room, and Kim's bed had been in a little nook in the wall in a corner of the room. Although I didn't realize it at the time, the room vaguely seemed like the room I had lived in the house on Eighth Street when I had gone to law school in Waco, Texas. I immediately began going over the dream in my mind, because I wanted to get up and record it on my cassette player. However I felt rather groggy and had difficulty putting myself in action.

Finally I rose, picked up my cassette player and walked out of the room into a hallway. Apparently the room was in a type of boarding house into which I had only recently moved. I walked into the bathroom which was shared by the inhabitants of the house. I walked back to the only commode in the bathroom, pulled my pants down and sat down on it. I laid my cassette player on something near me.

As I tried to defecate, I thought of what I had to do that day. I had recently enrolled in a school, and today was one of my first days of class. I was going to have three or four classes which would last most of the day, but I was having second thoughts about going. I was thinking of using the time I would be in the first class instead to record my dream. I was also somewhat confused about the song I had heard in the dream, and I thought I might somehow use the time to listen to it again. I was having second thoughts about going to classes at all.

Before I could actually begin to defecate, a black fellow (perhaps 30 years old) walked in. He apparently was the janitor. He sprayed some water around the room, an action which I found particularly annoying. Frustrated, I stood, pulled up my pants and blurted out that I had never been able to use the bathroom when someone else was in the room especially when I was being sprayed by water. I corrected myself and stated that at least when I had been a child I had never been able to, but as an adult I had occasionally been able to but certainly not in the present situation. Just as I had completed speaking, water from a device which appeared to be a shower fixture came lightly spraying down on me.

I grabbed my cassette player and hurried toward the door. But before I could reach it, I slipped on a particularly wet part of the floor and fell in a puddle of water in front of the urinals. Although I was drenched by that point, I was really not particularly concerned or upset. I knew the water was clean, and I simply wasn't that bothered by it. I rose and walked outside.

There, instead of finding myself in the hall, I found myself on a street. The building containing my room was on the other side of the street. Apparently I had actually earlier walked across the street to get to the bathroom.

I walked to the porch of the building, which was actually a large Victorian house, which contained my room. By now I was having a surge of particularly strong and pleasant feelings. I was thinking not only of what I was going to do that day, but of what I would be doing for the next several years. And the sensation of freedom was quite exhilarating.

I was on the verge of a new lifestyle. I had recently saved up quite a bit of money, perhaps enough to live on for five years without having to work. And I had just recently enrolled in school. But now I was thinking I might not go back to school. And in fact I didn't really want to go to school. What I wanted to do was go to Europe. And now I saw I had the opportunity to do it. It would be risky, because it was uncertain I could make it in Europe. If I attended school, it was more certain I would acquire needed skills to make a living when my money ran out. The thoughts made me think of my father. He would certainly pick going to school rather than going to Europe. I thought of how people such as he worked all their lives. The only time in their lives when they were free to enjoy life without working was when they were going to school. In the distance I heard laughter, and realized I was close to the school. Yet that laughter would only last for as long as those people were in school, and then they would begin working.

I felt as if I had an unique opportunity. I had the money to live in Europe rather than going to school. Surely in five years I could learn to do something. If necessary I would even learn some law and do some legal work at the end. I might even go to England. Of course there I would have to learn to speak like the English, who would call me a Yankee. I mulled the word "Yankee" over in my mind, pronouncing it as I thought the English would. I then looked out on the sidewalk, and pronounced the word "sidewalk" as the English might. I thought it sounded like the word "stalk." I felt so good at the prospect of going to Europe, where I felt I belonged.

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