Nov 3, 2004

Crash sight

A bus coming through the Rainbow tunnel, as it always does, I remember ths route, the buss accelerating, and now this time, crashing through the barrier and hurtling over a huge cliff, a dream cliff, landing on its face as it were. Head on. No fire. But the driver survives. A tall, thin man in a red baseball cap, who picks up the remains, which are suddenly Lilliputian in size, stuffs them in a sack and throws the sack into a garbage bin and begins walking up a narrow path, out of the valley, to where I am, in a truck perched on a high place. I drove to this place but now I’m stuck. And the man, the culprit, is coming up the path. I’ve seen him do this act. This was on purpose. He doesn’t know there has been a witness. I’m trying to figure out how to deal with this. To confront him, to hide. He passes by….


And right on the heels of that, another dream involving cars. How many times have I been through this dream, I’m thinking in the dream. I’m with a group of cons. (Which makes perfect sense). We’re on the lam. There’s another group of cons. Killers. I’m separated from the group. I have to get away. I finally get in a car as the man is pursuing me. It’s a GTO 442. It rises up, like cars do in bad neighborhoods. For a moment my adversary stops. I gun the engine, back out and speed away. He’s aiming at me with a high-powered rifle. Now he’s a cop. I can see myself as though his scope, as though I am now him. Instead of going the way I did, the way I did before in this dream, I swerve out on to the main road, which is concrete, and speed away. Still, I am in his sights, but his shot is blocked from view for an instant, and I think I get away. I say, “I think” because in these dreams I play out the different scenarios while dreaming…

And then one more, later, closer to morning. Los Angeles. Santa Monica Blvd. Perhaps, near Century City. Walking down the street. Thinking of Russian movies. How they’ve changed. The end of the dictatorship. New films. I get to a gas station. Go round the corner, suddenly in a movie and two people, two women, a man and a woman, I don’t know. Below a very tall building. The couple is sunning. Now, the camera is rolling. There’s some kind of plot, maybe it’s an ad for something. I’m with the camera, suddenly at the top of the building looking down. Then down looking up. Something is going to fall on the couple. I presume that. Not necessarily something destructive, but something. Some dramatic thing will happen. Then all of a sudden, a huge gate attached to the side of the building swings. A two story high gate, with a Jag car logo in the gate. The gate swings, but doesn’t come as far as where the couple is. I notice two cops in the intersection. One throws a football to a homeless man, who catches the ball, surprisingly. The cop congratulates him. Two cops in the intersection. Motorcycle cops.

The scene shifts to a few blocks away. To a house where Barbara and I are living. There’s a garden in the back. With interesting pattern of angular shaped pools. I’m laying out what I can do with this garden. There’s a bed of plants, including a rose bush, which for a moment I forget and then with scissors in my hand, I cut. I cut this rose bush and now I’m thinking how stupid was that, I have to get a new one. I cut it right down to the ground; it will take years to grow back. I have to get another. I plan that. Where I’ll go. But then it occurs to me, this is November, not spring. What roses will grow now? None; it’s autumn. But then I ‘m going to get my car at the gas station. I forgot all about it. I see a pink rose in a window and I think, well maybe there are fall roses after all. But more important, where’s my car. I’ve left it here, not thinking, I had thought it would still be here, but now it’s not. I don’t think. I can’t see it. It was a gray color, not the '65 Mustang over there. I had one like that, but it was Navy blue and then I painted it white. Or a firebird, another rememberance, or maybe the Olds from the other dream. I can’t quite find the car; I can’t quite remember it. Fade to black… there was more, but now lost….

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