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Dream Diary Entry recorded July 10, 2018
Jul. 10th, 2018 06:00 pmMy dimly remembered dreams last night had the feel, again, of a large and elaborate story. I can remember elements of the story, and so here they are, perhaps without a lot of necessary context, but then, who knows how much context my dream-mind actually generated, and how much of what it provided was simply an illusion of context?
Recurrent is a downtown street of a big city where I am supposed to catch a shuttle bus. One such bus arrives once or twice an hour, is generally silver and dark blue in coloration, and is both immense and crowded. In this early morning's dream, I was with a couple of older-middle-aged women (i.e., the same age as I am), and we had initially been dropped off somehow - I don't think it was by the same bus, it was some sort of planned tour. We were supposed to go shop for a time in one particular store, then go directly to a restaurant across the street, and then one store space down from that, we would catch the bus. That's the general idea, anyway, although I'm blurry on the exact details of the plan. The bus was, I think, free - it was also immense. There was room to sit, but a big crowd for each shuttle meant that it was entirely possible I'd be standing and holding on to one of those looped hook thingies in a standing area near the back. Doors opened for boarding in the front and back, and I always did seem in these dreams, and certainly in this one, to only get there in time to use the back entrance to the bus, and to either stand or get one of the last remaining (i.e. rearmost) seats.
I said older women. There were also younger women, young adult age, as opposed to early middle age. And they were flirtatious toward me, two of them with brown-blonde hair at different times trying to get my sexual attention, with a distressing amount of success. I however did walk away eventually from their advances without any untoward activity having occurred.
I repeat that I said older women. These women also met me in a building where they had flea-market or craft-expo sort of booths set up, but they also had involvement in matters magickal, even Thelemic. That's what I get for Tweeting this during the Twin Peaks "Return Rewatch" last night. Black and red ink, mysterious symbols, immaculately rendered text ... if I ever find out that the black-leather-bound book I've repeatedly dreamed about that contains similar but ornate typography and arcane exercises in magickal discipline actually exists, hoo boy, I don't know what I'd be willing to pay for such a tome, but it would be a real tragedy to let the opportunity of owning and/or studying it pass me by.
Recurrent is a downtown street of a big city where I am supposed to catch a shuttle bus. One such bus arrives once or twice an hour, is generally silver and dark blue in coloration, and is both immense and crowded. In this early morning's dream, I was with a couple of older-middle-aged women (i.e., the same age as I am), and we had initially been dropped off somehow - I don't think it was by the same bus, it was some sort of planned tour. We were supposed to go shop for a time in one particular store, then go directly to a restaurant across the street, and then one store space down from that, we would catch the bus. That's the general idea, anyway, although I'm blurry on the exact details of the plan. The bus was, I think, free - it was also immense. There was room to sit, but a big crowd for each shuttle meant that it was entirely possible I'd be standing and holding on to one of those looped hook thingies in a standing area near the back. Doors opened for boarding in the front and back, and I always did seem in these dreams, and certainly in this one, to only get there in time to use the back entrance to the bus, and to either stand or get one of the last remaining (i.e. rearmost) seats.
I said older women. There were also younger women, young adult age, as opposed to early middle age. And they were flirtatious toward me, two of them with brown-blonde hair at different times trying to get my sexual attention, with a distressing amount of success. I however did walk away eventually from their advances without any untoward activity having occurred.
I repeat that I said older women. These women also met me in a building where they had flea-market or craft-expo sort of booths set up, but they also had involvement in matters magickal, even Thelemic. That's what I get for Tweeting this during the Twin Peaks "Return Rewatch" last night. Black and red ink, mysterious symbols, immaculately rendered text ... if I ever find out that the black-leather-bound book I've repeatedly dreamed about that contains similar but ornate typography and arcane exercises in magickal discipline actually exists, hoo boy, I don't know what I'd be willing to pay for such a tome, but it would be a real tragedy to let the opportunity of owning and/or studying it pass me by.
