Dream/Nightmare

[lapsedmodernist]

I am in a house that is a lot like my old house in Moscow except for the room that was my room is huge and like a New York loft, like the room of the girl whose house alice_ayers and I went to to assemble outfits for the Mermaid Parade. It is night. There are many, many lamps in the apartment and they keep going out, with only the fiberglass in the middle remaining glowing. The lightbulbs are in normal places where lightbulbts ought to be, but there are also clusters of lightbulbs like grapes hanging off wires down from ceilings. I am sitting at a table in my room/loft space. To the right of me is a cluttered couch, to the left of me is a huge closet with wire hangers. There is a knock on the door and I realize I cannot see through the peephole because the key isn't turned properly in the lock. Once I turn the key a bit I can see out. It's a guy, a vague acquaintance. At first I try to get rid of him, but then I ask him to stay, when I realize the lights are going out. He is in the living room. I keep trying to keep the lights on and they keep burning out. I twist the lightbulbs, but it does not help. The lights in the huge closet go out, and I am aware that this is all a meta-dream of the fear of the dark, and am thinking of whether keeping the doors of the closet open or closed will be scarier [I think I meant scarier, but looking over my scribbles where I wrote down the dream last night, I wrote "saner"]. I think that I should call someone, an electrician or a friend, but my phone is disassembled in three pieces, which are somewhere in the clutter of the couch. I have two of the pieces in hand and cannot find the third one. A very vacuum-salesman man in a gray suit keeps coming into my room and asking me to "hit redial." After his third appearance I wake up.

Also, I hate my unconscious. The relationship between Harry Potter and Kreacher in "Half-Blooded Prince" adequately describes my relationship to my unconscious.

off to meet missmimesis in Harvard Square in a bit.

Comments

[orpheusinhades.livejournal.com]

Wait, which are you, Kreacher or Potter? Is your unconscious your unwilling servant, or are you its?

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

I am Potter, and I have to demand certain things of my unconscious, and it has to provide them, but foaming at the mouth, hatefully and usually with a serving of some kind of psychosteamingturd.

[ert.livejournal.com]

But can you send it off to work with the other unconsciousnesses, making food in the galley?

"off to meet missmimesis in Harvard Square in a bit."

[nightspore.livejournal.com]

And here am I, teaching in William James Hall across the Yard, on break between classes....

Re: "off to meet missmimesis in Harvard Square in a bit."

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

now, why did I think you teach at B******s?

Perhaps, now that I live here, our paths will cross at some point?

Re: "off to meet missmimesis in Harvard Square in a bit."

[nightspore.livejournal.com]

I do teach at brand-X. But yesterday was summer school at Harvard. I anticipate, at some point, recognizing you (or theophile) from photos and saying hi. That's a great proxy story, BTW. Go you. I want to grad school with a person named Lynn, whom people used to call "Her Lynnliness." But she wasn't from Lynn, I don't think.

Re: "off to meet missmimesis in Harvard Square in a bit."

[lapsedmodernist.livejournal.com]

I just realized that MY h.s. English teacher that I cited at the end of the Lynn entry was ALSO named Lynn. Totally crazy. Somewhere someone named Lynn has gone through the John Malcovich portal.

You may recognize me, but I have not an inkling of what you look like.

OT question, btw, since you are presumably somewhat plugged in into the local(?) academia...do you by any chance know of any places that might need an adjunct in anthro for the fall? Community college, city college, state, anything really that would take an ABD to avoid paying decent wages to a full Ph.D.

Re: "off to meet missmimesis in Harvard Square in a bit."

[nightspore.livejournal.com]

If you send me a cv (nightspore@gmail.com) I'll pass it on with suitable praise to the people I know at the Brandeis anthro dept. They might have tips too.