fragment 1
I am rooting through my locker, looking for a pair of socks I can wear. Most
pairs--there are several--are rather damp, and generally unwearable. They seem, some of
them, to be hanging up to dry. Finally, I find one pair I can wear.
I seem to make the point in my mind that I am leaving my weapon in the locker. None
of us now have our weapons.
Next scene seems to be another part of the locker room. A group of us off-duty
police officers, I think, men and women, are siting around shooting the breeze after
shift.
In comes a man with some kind of automatic weapon. He says, "My father came
before me, and now I am here."
We are understandable surprised, and unable to do anything, caught offguard, and
unarmed.
He makes a reference to the women, saying, "They will be the last to survive."
fragment 2
I am talking about something horrible. I am saying, "I was in the hospital in Maryland
before they turned the lights on."
fragment 3
I am looking out a large window at veterans of some kind of war. My feeling is that I
was one of those people in a fragment I have lost. I am inside this window feeling
ashamed I did not fight.
They are a motley crew, riding horses, walking, men, women, carrying things they
might have used in the fight.
fragment 4
The same window is prominent in this fragment. This time, I am a youth in service to
some ganglord in ths post-war world. I am sent off to some kind of unpleasant duty.
A Note on my dreaming:
I am entering a period when I am dreaming again. When I dream, and can
remember, I have always dreamt in what I call tetrologies--longer and more complex
than trilogies. This log just happens to be in 4 fragments.
The last three seem to be part of the same world, after some war, or catastrophe.
The first one, is some cop television show. And that is the way I feel about most of my
dreaming. I experience the dream as a program: shots, characters, action, dialogue.
But to remember it, I must tell it to myself as a story--the way I tell it to you. That is why
the first fragment is the most complete. Trying to remember it--repeatedly telling it to
myself all night--interfered with remember the others.
At various times in my life, I have tried to keep logs, with varying success. I don’t
know how long I can sustain it this time. But I will try.