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TOW
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Dreaming; Night of
June 27, 1987 |
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9:40 |
Else before. I got back with the woman of above (pseudo-Tina). Stuff happened. We grew together. At one point, I was tussling in a swamp with some guy, reliving the joy of good Westerns or some such while she looked on, smiling. Else of this sort. Then we went to a restaurant. We were seated at a table with two other men whom we obviously knew. I started acting very strangely as the dream tried to fade. Finally, I leaned over and whispered in her ear that I hadn't gone crazy, that I was trying to stay. Evidently we'd discussed it before and she knew my position. I was wearing a green dinner jacket and matching accessories, which I wasn't too happy with. There was a shift, and though we were still together, I cannot remember the setting at all. I started hearing/singing a song that I knew my mind was making up on the spot. It was called "Phoenix Is Just A Dream To Me," or something very close to that. It was excellent, with good melody, rhythm, and endrhymes. Around this point, I became quuite aware (after hints of awareness above), and I remarked to her (and thought) that this was proof, that my subconscious mind was much, much more creatively able, if I could only tap it. As I listened to the lyrics of the song (which was very appropriate, dealing very sadly with having to lose the world of dreams), I despaired, for it seemed as though they were forgotten as soon as I heard them; I knew I'd never be able to recall a significant amount to record in my DN (and I was right—I remember nothing but the title). We spoke tenderly a bit, and the dream—and, mercifully, my awareness—was lost. (H)(A) |
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