Dream of: 28 February 1998 "Good, More Good, Bad And Good"
I was busily composing a story about a man who had traveled to a small community, tucked away in a mountainous forested area, to work for law enforcement as an undercover agent. He was a tall black-haired man who closely resembled the actor Peter Coyote. Not long after he arrived in the community, he confided his true identity to a young woman whom he met. He particularly emphasized his contempt for law enforcement officers who accepted bribes.
As the plot unfolded in my mind, I found myself vividly imagining the scenes in which the man found himself. It soon became clear he was investigating one man in particular, whom he quickly befriended in order to study him more closely. It wasn't completely clear, but it seemed the suspect might somehow be involved with drugs. The lawman and the suspect moved in together, and the suspect had no idea he was under investigation. The suspect even allowed the lawman to borrow his bright red truck. As the lawman drove the truck along the road, I myself seemed to be driving the truck. I was having difficulty with driving because the cab of the truck rose high into the air, so high I was in danger of running into tree branches. A couple times I had to swerve off the road into a neighboring field to avoid the tree limbs. Driving in the field caused new problems, because the area had recently been flooded, and I ran the risk of becoming stuck. However I was able to negotiate past my obstacles and continue on down the road. Driving the truck made me have more contempt for the suspect — the truck was so big and showy. Obviously the suspect must do a lot of damage to the area when he would plow through the fields with the big tires, causing ruts.
My contempt for the suspect grew even more in another scene which I was composing. In this scene, the lawman was lying in a bed in the house where he and the suspect were living. The suspect walked into the room and suggested the lawman and the suspect might have sex together. The suspect even suggested the lawman rape the suspect, as if by using force the sexual act would be more exciting. The lawman declined and the suspect crept back out of the room.
By now I had actually begun writing the story. I was standing outside on the porch of a building with gray weather clapboards, and I was writing my story on the side of the building, on the boards. The woman whom the lawman had met at the beginning of the story was also sitting on the porch, watching me write. I was having a bit of difficulty writing on the wall, and was beginning to believe the wall might not be the appropriate place to write my story. In my mind, the story seemed so vivid, I thought it would embellish the wall like a mural. As I wrote, I realized writing wasn't like painting a picture, and the writing didn't show up well on the wall the way paint might. It would probably be better if I were to simply find a notebook and write my story in it.
I knew I was reaching an important stage of the story. In this section of the story, everyone who knew the lawman would begin to doubt his character. It would even be alleged that the lawman himself had taken a bribe. I now felt as if I saw an important concept in story-writing. In this particular story, there would be different phases. In the first phase, the lawman would be "good," in the second phase when he repulsed the sexual overtures of the suspect, he would be "more good," and in the third stage, when he was suspected of having taken a bribe, he would be considered "bad." Thus a question would be raised as to what the actual character of the lawman was. I was already of aware of the outcome – at the end of the story, it would be clear that the lawman was "good," and that he had never taken a bribe. Now I clearly saw the story could be considered to have four phases, "good, more good, bad and good."
Copyright 2001 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
