maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was laying down in a living room. There may have been a small party going on somewhere in the house. I was laying on the floor, possibly under a blanket, and surrounded on either side by a lot of clutter. The room was partly dim, as if near me there was a small, incandescent lamp, while everywhere else the room was unlit. Beyond my feet, in the distance, I may have seen the bathroom, which may also have been lit.

A small, blonde woman straddled me and lay down on me. The woman was really thin, and her body was really tight. She was almost as short as a twelve year old girl. The girl wore a short skirt of some kind of colorful, plaid material and a g-string (I saw it in my mind's eye, not with my "normal" vision).

I also had my clothes on. But it almost felt like we were both naked and having sex. The woman's body felt really good up against me.

I thought we should go to a bedroom, so that we could actually take our clothes off and have real sex, instead of whatever we were doing right now. We stood up and walked into a room just off to my right. We stood in the bright room, before a bed that was kind of high -- the mattresses came up just about to my sternum.

The woman and I may have been getting ready to have sex. But suddenly I got an image in my head of my friend H. I thought that since she apparently liked me, I shouldn't be having sex with anybody else.

I was back out in the living room, laying on the floor, possibly waiting for H to come lay with me. I found some of the blonde woman's panties. There were a few pairs of her panties, just laying on the floor to my left, amid the rest of the clutter. I picked up two pairs of panties. They were incredibly small. One pair was silvery. One was white cotton. Both had a skinny kind of cut.

I decided to try the panties on. They were so small that I could hardly get them on my legs. I figured I wouldn't get anywhere close to being able to put them on. I think I was trying to put both pairs on at once. As soon as the fabric of the panties touched my crotch, I came.

Dream #2

I was sitting at my table, holding a book like an old hardcover version of her book Raven's Wing, with the orange cover and blocky, black lettering. But the book wasn't Raven's Wing. I held the book closed and upright, with the back cover mostly facing toward me. The room I was in was remarkably like my apartment, except that it was a tiny bit bigger.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was looking through some kind of magazine like the New Yorker, although a lot of the formatting for the magazine seemed like it was for a popular men's magazine like Maxim.

There were three articles by Joyce Carol Oates in this magazine. I wanted to write Oates a letter to tell her how much I'd appreciated her articles. But I realized that I hadn't actually read the articles, and that I'd look like just some kind of "autograph hunter" if I wrote the letter, expecting a response, without having read the articles.

So I flipped through the magazine to find the articles. I found one of the articles, which seemed like a two-pager, on the front and back side of one sheet of paper. The article was all in some kind of grey text box. I figured this article would be the easiest to read, since it was so short. But even it seemed too long.

I got a little confused as to whether the article was one pages or two pages. I then came to the conclusion that the article was written on both sides of the page, but that the second page was partly taken up by an advertisement. So the whole article was less than two pages long.

The article, I could probably tell, was about Oates and her "new husband" taking their honeymoon in Italy. But the place they'd rented for their honeymoon seemed to me more like a place they'd just bought or rented for the long term.

The first paragraph mentioned something about how the apartment was just perfect "for allowing us to tatertater (an expression which means very much the same thing for us adults as it did when we were children)."

I couldn't figure out what tatertater meant. I just figured it had something to do with making tater tots "out of the can" (?).

So Oates was apparently pleased at first glance with the place. But she said that there ended up being a lot of faults. Mostly the place hadn't been very well cleaned after the previous occupants left. There were plenty of signs of their still having lived here.

One was that, "For close-drivers, a guard rail had been put right up against the edge." I couldn't quite figure out what close drivers would be doing in a house, or what kind of edge Oates was talking about.

But there was a picture, a kind of half-impressionist oil or pastel painting of the place. I looked at it and saw that there was some kind of babmboo fencing, still green, fastened all around the breakfast bar.

I realized that the "close-drivers" were people who pushed their babies in strollers everywhere and had the habit of bashing into everything with the strollers. The bamboo fencing was put up to protect the wood of the breakfast bar. The apartment seemed to be a living room with the kitchen inside of it. The breakfast bar and the kitchen counter seemed to be the biggest parts of this room of the apartment.

I was kind of worried. I didn't think I'd be able to get through this article. There was so much new language in it, so much current speech that I couldn't follow. I also felt bad because Oates, a few decades my senior, knew all this current vernacular, while I had no idea what it meant.

I continued reading the article and looking at the painting. Oates complaints were then that there were empty food cans strewn all over the place, as well as newspapers. I looked at the drawing again. There were newspapers and cans strewn on both the kitchen counters and the floor.

I thought, Did the landlords here bother to clean this place up at all when the last people left?