Dreaming for fun and prophecy
This morning I had some absurdly detailed and vivid dreams. Sometimes my dreams turn out to be prophetic. Of course, you can slice up the phone book and toss the pieces with some shredded New York Times, and sometimes that will turn out to be prophetic. But just in case, I record these dreams here, so remember where you heard it first.
One dream was an elaborate 9-11 WTC retrospective. The planes were hitting, and I was there, and only I knew what it was all about and that the towers were coming down shortly. There were sequences with attempted rescues, attempted escapes, bodies falling, fleeing people getting hit by falling bodies, and so on. My dad was there with me on the sidewalk, and he was trying to help me rescue people from the third floor. He stood on a ladder and boosted me up to a window, but he was too old and tired to help me get down again. In another sequence, I was aboard one of the airliners as it approached Manhattan and made its final fatal turn, and we all realized what was about to happen. In another sequence, I was trying to get away from the scene of an attack, but some kind of above-ground commuter trains were blocking the escape route. It wasn't New York. I remember thinking Philadelphia. SEPTA. People were playing tennis nearby.
There was another sequence where some kind of extremely fierce combustion blew the top clean off a Romanesque capitol dome. The building might have been pinkish. I remember thinking of Austin. Then I saw the same thing happening to some nondescript mid-century office cube.
My other dream that felt solid enough to be called portentious was really quite stupid. In it, a woman co-worker (on whom I have an intermittent crush) was a contestant on a show called "Who Wants to Shoot Jerry Lewis." It was hosted by Burt Reynolds. After a round of questions, she opted not to shoot Jerry Lewis, but then asked if she could change her mind. The next contestant wanted to shoot Jerry Lewis before the round of questions, which was against the rules.
So here in real life, I asked my co-worker if this dream rang any bells for her. Nope. Except the Jerry Lewis Telethon had just gone by, and she'd just seen part of King of Comedy but found the whole thing too embarrassing to endure, and she'd also just seen a Burt Reynolds movie. As prophecies go, that's pretty much el busto. Still. I can hope she goes home, and her husband says something like "Jerry Lewis should be shot," and she can say "what a coincidence."
Or maybe terrorists will blow up Philadelphia and Austin one week from today, on the 2nd anniversary of the 9-11 attacks, but I'd really rather they didn't.
One dream was an elaborate 9-11 WTC retrospective. The planes were hitting, and I was there, and only I knew what it was all about and that the towers were coming down shortly. There were sequences with attempted rescues, attempted escapes, bodies falling, fleeing people getting hit by falling bodies, and so on. My dad was there with me on the sidewalk, and he was trying to help me rescue people from the third floor. He stood on a ladder and boosted me up to a window, but he was too old and tired to help me get down again. In another sequence, I was aboard one of the airliners as it approached Manhattan and made its final fatal turn, and we all realized what was about to happen. In another sequence, I was trying to get away from the scene of an attack, but some kind of above-ground commuter trains were blocking the escape route. It wasn't New York. I remember thinking Philadelphia. SEPTA. People were playing tennis nearby.
There was another sequence where some kind of extremely fierce combustion blew the top clean off a Romanesque capitol dome. The building might have been pinkish. I remember thinking of Austin. Then I saw the same thing happening to some nondescript mid-century office cube.
My other dream that felt solid enough to be called portentious was really quite stupid. In it, a woman co-worker (on whom I have an intermittent crush) was a contestant on a show called "Who Wants to Shoot Jerry Lewis." It was hosted by Burt Reynolds. After a round of questions, she opted not to shoot Jerry Lewis, but then asked if she could change her mind. The next contestant wanted to shoot Jerry Lewis before the round of questions, which was against the rules.
So here in real life, I asked my co-worker if this dream rang any bells for her. Nope. Except the Jerry Lewis Telethon had just gone by, and she'd just seen part of King of Comedy but found the whole thing too embarrassing to endure, and she'd also just seen a Burt Reynolds movie. As prophecies go, that's pretty much el busto. Still. I can hope she goes home, and her husband says something like "Jerry Lewis should be shot," and she can say "what a coincidence."
Or maybe terrorists will blow up Philadelphia and Austin one week from today, on the 2nd anniversary of the 9-11 attacks, but I'd really rather they didn't.