Dream of: 22 October 1999 "No Prince Hamlet"
each person has a
destiny whose clear traces
can be found in dreams
On both sides of me, draped in their most brilliant hues, hung the autumn leaves. Before me, stretching straight down the side of the hill on which I was walking, lay the leaf-strewn forest path. How I loved it out here in the woods!
Continuing down the wooded path, I thought of T.S. Eliot, and some of his poems which I had memorized. I was trying to remember references to Shakespeare in Eliot's poems, specifically references to Macbeth and Hamlet. I knew Eliot had referred to Hamlet more than once, and I could remember a specific line from Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," which read, "I am no Prince Hamlet."
I had repeated that line to myself many times in my life, unsure whether it was a positive or negative statement. Although I recalled references to Hamlet, however, I could not specifically recall a reference to Macbeth, even though I felt Eliot somewhere referred to Macbeth. What I did realize was that, even though I was quite familiar with Hamlet and Macbeth, I should become more intimate with both works. After all, I loved Shakespeare, and I strongly related to another of Eliot's lines, which I repeated to myself, "Oh, that Shakespearean rag. How it moves me. How it grooves me." At least that was the way I thought the line went.
By now I had reached the bottom of the leaf-covered hill, and I was approaching the campus of an old college, consisting of elegant red-bricked buildings. Seeing the imposing building for which I was headed, I walked up to it and entered.
Inside, in one huge room, some cafeteria-style tables had been set up, and sitting on all the tables were antiques and collectibles which were going to be auctioned off here today. I was unsure whether I would buy anything, but I definitely wanted to watch the auction, and with keen interest, I began scrutinizing the items on the tables.
Most everything had price-tags, and all the prices seemed exorbitant to me, but I figured that whoever was selling the items had simply put on inflated prices to make the items seem more attractive. I did find one figurine of a woman, about thirty centimeters tall which had a low price of $9 on it. The figurine looked as if it were made of ivory and it had an oriental air to it. It was partially mechanized so that the mouth and one arm of the woman moved. The more I looked at the piece, the more I liked it. Hoping that no one else had noticed the statuette, I quickly decided I would bid on it.
Since it was almost time for the auction to begin, people began taking their seats in the metal folding chairs at the tables. I took an empty seat where no one was sitting on either side of me. Almost immediately the lights were lowered. Apparently a spotlight would shine in the middle of the room in front of the tables, and the light would be shone on each item as it was offered for bids.
Before the auction began, two women sat down right next to me on my left. The woman immediately next to me was tall and thin (about 35 years old). She was pretty, but not beautiful. I immediately felt attracted to her, and I wondered whether she noticed me. I also wondered if she noticed the silver ring I was wearing, with the little round face which looked like an Indian from old Indian nickels. Or she might notice the Jurassic Park watch which I was wearing. The ring was not expensive, and the watch was made of plastic, but both were colorful, and I thought they displayed my interest in the kind of collectible items being offered for sale here.
The auction began and the first item was sold. Then the second item was wheeled out. Loaded on what appeared to be a large, wheeled, baggage rack from an airport were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of empty cereal boxes. At least the boxes were empty of cereal. Instead they were loaded to overflowing with popcorn. I knew some people collected old cereal boxes, but it was hard to believe that these boxes, which did not appear to be particularly old, were being auctioned. I turned to the woman next to me, who also seemed amazed by the sight, and I asked her what she thought the boxes would sell for. She seemed amused and said they might bring $5. I thought the price was a little low, and I said they would probably bring $100. At the same time, I thought maybe the woman and I could compare estimates on other items put up for bid. I liked comparing estimates with someone, to see who would come closer to the actual final bid.
The woman had apparently taken more than a passing note of me, because she laid her right hand on my left leg, very close to my crotch. Almost imperceptibly she moved her hand over until it was right on top of my penis. To encourage her, I pressed my legs together, causing her hand to put more pressure on my penis. She did not pull away. Instead, she moved her face close to mine until her right cheek was pressed against my left cheek. The corner of her mouth touched the corner of my mouth and I could feel a tiny amount of moisture pass from her lips to mine.
The passing of moisture immediately bothered me. Had I gone too far with this woman? Was it not possible to contract AIDS from another person's saliva? It was a shame I had to have these kinds of thoughts. Now the mood was irreparably broken.
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