Interzone: Dreams (1)

Dreams (1)

"Stella Matutina" by Marylis - "Les Compagnons de l'Etoile Filante" - 1936

Original French version and English translation available at Interzone Editions

Version anglaise: Traduction: Isabelle AUBERT-BAUDRON & Paul O'DONOVAN

This is the beginning of the transcription of the dreams you sent for the book. More to come when I have time to go on. Iz

How we began to note our dreams: A simple method to get rid of nightmares

See the cut-ups from this page at http://www.inter-zone.org/cutupdreams.html made by Sune Nielsen.

Agent Izzy : Dream of November 28th 1981

" Baud and I are in the dining room of my grandmother's house, sitting at the table and writing. From time to time, I have the impression that some of the objects on the table, a colour pen, a pen, start to move slightly by themselves. That makes me abruptly raise the head and I stare at the pen which remains motionless. A bit later I am in a flat which has nothing in common with my grandmother's house, with a white wooden table along a wall; the walls also are white; there are utility and modern pieces of furniture, also white, and in the middle of the room, another table for drawing, perhaps with trestles; objects are laid out above: roller of Scotch, pencils, papers... Near the table, a modern chair, perhaps out of white wood. Over the first table, is spread out a black plastic sheet. I am in the middle of the room, the first table about one meter far from me on the left. I suddenly see the black plastic sheet which starts to move by itself, making like wavelets. Baud is in another room and I regret that he is not there to see that. I do not speak to him about it by fear of appearing ridiculous, or because I have the impression that he will not believe me.

We are then again in my grandmother's home with Gerard X (a patient in the hospital). We go to a bedroom with him; he will sleep there and we wish him good evening. Baud and I go to the large living room.

We are in front of the square table in the middle of the room, on which are laid out of papers, pencils and books. We are talking and everything is as usually when suddenly the orange pen starts to write a small text across the page of a book, then is stops, then starts writing again on the page of the book, mathematical formulas, sentences. The pen writes very quickly then stops. We come close to see what is written, I take the sheet and begin to look at it, quite astonished by the thing, when my navy-blue anorak raises from the back of the chair on which it was posed, as the shape of an invisible sphere lifts it up. There we start to be afraid and I ask the invisible entity who he is and why he chooses to do that with us.

Later we walk in the street of an old city, may be Poitiers. The invisible entity remains with we and we can communicate with him through thoughts without nobody knowing it. He gives us his opinion about events and people that we meet and we are aware of about all that really occurs. The entity is well because we hold company to him.

Since a few days I have noticed around us like cobwebs with kind of insects which look like roasted chicken with legs of grasshoppers. At the top of the legs there is a large round and black eye. These small beasts are everywhere, even in the closing of my satchel and I think that I shall have to remove them. At the same time I see a big one on a wall and am on the point to crush it when the invisible entity says to me: " This animal is part of me; if you crush it, you remove something in me and you destroy me at the same time . So I decide not to crush them anymore.

They are wrapped in cocoons made in cobwebs and do not move. They have an anxious glance as if they were scared that I remove them. They only want to remain there and to have company."

The apartment with the white wood pieces of furniture was well that of Brion Gysin. Same laying out of the place, same atmosphere, similarity of the pieces of furniture and of many details.

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My Dream July 26, 1997 Nicholas Knutsen :

The first thing I remember in the dream is that I'm in a complex of corridors leading downwards. The walls are white, and the place is like the stairwell in a public building, only bigger, with more choices of openings and staircases. I'm there with a lot of people, and I know some of them, like on some sort of convention. We're all going down, turning corners and walking down the stairs. Sometimes I stop and talk to people that I know. Now that I'm awake I can't remember who they were, but I know they were both friends I have now and people I used to know. There's a feeling that we're going somewhere. There are people all over the place, and I don't know how far down some of them have come or how high up some of them still are.

Gradually it becomes clear that we have a time limit to get to our goal. Then we're there. We come down a staircase, and we're in a room that's a little bigger than the "rooms" between the staircases. There are still some more corridors leading out of this room, but they don't seem to be leading further downwards, only straight ahead. But we know where we're all supposed to go. The wall at the other end of the room isn't there. Instead it's an opening leading in and slightly down to another room, or rather a biggish corridor. The structure of the rooms is a little unclear, but there are some glass walls probably on either side of the opening, so that we will go between the glass walls.

Everybody now has a sense of danger about going through the opening, because we know that there's some sort of field there between the glass doors, so that one can't just step through, but rather something will happen to you. But the time limit is still there, and time's running out. I throw a plastic bag which I had with me, through the opening, and it bursts into flames in the air as it crosses over. Then somebody tests just waving a bag through the opening and back without letting go. Nothing happens to the bag. Somebody says to me that probably only loose objects, which nobody holds on to, will be destroyed. I want to find out more, but there's very little time left. I go back to the other side of the room, and in one corner there's a bend in the room, and behind that corner is some sort of information console. I find out just how much time is left, and it's just a few seconds. I also realise what will happen too anyone still in the room when the time is out. The room will be filled with blood. A big wave of blood, just like in "The Shining". Those left will drown. The dream now turns into a nightmare.

I want to find out more, even though I can't technically make it on time. Still I have this notion that the reality of life is such that always when one thinks one is running out of time, there is always a little time left. So I stay by the console a little too long. I run out from behind the corner, and realise that everybody's gone. They have all stepped through the opening, and the room is completely deserted. I now notice that the room on the other side leads around a corner, and further ahead to some other place. The room doesn't look clean or clinical at all, but pretty realistic, more so than the corridors I came from. There's dust on the floor. It seems that there is seeping in some daylight from behind the corner.

I'm running towards the opening but it's already closing, with a glass door where there was only an opening earlier. There's no way I can make it. And I don't. The door closes, and in panic I turn around. I want to run out the way I came, but can't quite remember the right way. I run into one of the hallways on the side, but as I turn the corner and look down the long corridor, I see the flood of blood crashing towards me. I realise that it was true. I run back and up the stairs as fast as I can. I come to the level above where I was, find the stairs and start up those too. But it's too late. The blood is already spurting up from the previous room, and filling up this one. I'm being pushed to the ceiling, and I'm certain I will die. But miraculously I find the opening where the staircase goes, and the stream of the blood pushes me hard further upwards. In each room I find the opening, although a couple of times I have difficulty getting to them. Then I hit the surface of the blood, and run further up, away from the tide of blood. I can still hear it gushing behind me.

Then I reach the top, and I climb out on some sort of roof top, but it's small and more like a knoll of grass. The feeling of safety is short. Suddenly I have a feeling that the nearing blood represents danger, eventhough it's not completely clear how it will harm me here out in the open. I ask myself whether the blood will actually come all the way up here, and I decide I have to get as far away as possible. The place seems pretty far up, but there's plenty of places to go. It's like a mixture of roof tops and grassy hills. I run ahead and a little bit down, and I come to a vast asphalt lot. I have a weird thought about all the people who disappeared through the opening without me seeing them. Then suddenly evil people are approaching all around me. They seem to be like zombies, and they're all out to get me. It's like the danger has caught up with me.

I then have a feeling which I sometimes get in dreams, to various degrees. I feel like I can maybe control the situation, or at least that I have a chance of making it. Beside me there's a trash can half my height. I place it in front of me, and step into it. Then I fold out a pole from the side of the bin, which then points up into the air. I proceed to fold out a crude propeller from the pole. The propeller does not even reach over my head. The blades, which are more like rulers, are all wrong, because they are flat vertically, thereby making it technically impossible to make the trash can fly. In the dream though, I just think that this faulty propeller will make it very difficult to fly. The propeller starts spinning slowly, then a little faster, and I take off. The zombies are directly below me, and I feel like I'm getting away. But I only get a few feet off the ground, and they can almost reach me. Some of the propeller blades start folding halfway back, and the propeller stops and starts. It's evident that it's not the air pressure created by this puny propeller which is causing the can to levitate, but rather the very spinning of the propeller itself. I have to keep folding up the blades, and even spin the propeller manually with my hand. I almost touch the ground again. Now I've gotten a little way away from the zombies, and I'm almost off the lot. Still I can't make the can really lift off properly, and I realise I won't get away like this.

I come to a grassy spot, and there's a cliff, and I look down over the edge. It's a straight drop hundreds of miles down. I become very happy, because now I'm convinced I can make the can fly. All I needed was to start from very high up. I throw myself off the cliff, but now it has changed. It's not a straight drop any more, but rather endless dunes of grass in levels diagonally down and forward. I glide a little in the air and then I hit a dune. I glide some more and hit another. Then I get to a somewhat steep dune, and I glide a long way forward. It almost feel like I'm getting away.

Here the dream changes. One could say it becomes a totally different dream. But as you will read in the end of this dream, I remember back to the first part which I have now described to you.

I remember very little from the beginning of this dream. This dream is not a nightmare like the last one, but it becomes pretty unpleasant towards the end. It consists of two very different elements. Firstly, I'm involved in some kind of science fiction-like project, having to do with alternate realities. Secondly, one of my grandparents' grandchildren dies. These elements are somehow interwoven.

I don't remember exactly how I find out about the death of this grandchild, but I remember that I have never heard of him or her. In reality, my two grandparents on my mother's side (I have no contact with any relatives on my father's side) have only three grandchildren, myself and my male cousin and female cousin. In this dream, there is, or have been, another. In real life, I have a lot of contact with my grandmother and my grandfather. I remember they are very sad about the loss of their grandchild.

The "sci-fi" part of the dream is extremely weird. First I must explain something, a feeling that permeate the whole latter part of this dream. It is a feeling of everything being iconographic. Nothing really happens realistically, but rather a representation of an event occurs. So that, when I am with some sort of scientist and he's showing me something in his telescope relating to this project, I don't see stars or planets in the night sky. I see small white numbers with periods after them. I think it's the number "6." we zoom in on. It is shining white, as if it's a hole punched in the sky. The shape of the digit is not smooth, just like when one looks up close at letters in a newspaper. We keep zooming in, and when we get really close, the whole "6." seems to evaporate, and reveal a huge group of planets. It's like the planets were hiding "behind" the number, but it's like both the scientist and I know that the number had only *represented* the planets.

We zoom in on the planets, and then I recognise the pattern on them. The continents on the planets are all exactly the same. They are all Earth. I realise that they all must be alternate realities of the planet Earth. This means that all the possible alternate realities of Earth do not exist in different timelines, but on different Earths floating in space next to each other.

The next part of the dream I remember, starts out with the project, but melts into something that I'm not sure what is. I'm with two scientists and they're looking in some sort of laptop computer, only there's no top. The LCD-display is on the machine itself. They have apparently been using this device throughout the dream, to monitor some sort of activity. But there's nothing in the display. I say to them something like, "Come on guys, make it look like you're watching something there." The feeling is again that we all know that this "machine" is only a representation of a machine that they're looking at. This relates to the fact that this is all a dream, (although I don't realise this in the dream) so it's actually true that things only *represent* real things in the dream.

The scientists sort of "will" the machine to change, and a grid appears in the LCD-display. I'm still not satisfied: "Come on. Show what you're really looking at." They kind of say, "Oh, okay," and the display then shows the continent of the USA. I say something like, "That's not right. You have to zoom in on where it really is." They start panning and zooming the view in the machine, but suddenly it's way too close.

Now the view is realistic like a real camera or binoculars, not an LCD-display. In the machine we're looking at a woman's bust. She's wearing a sweater, but we can see that there are breasts behind it. We all act very macho and boyish, and although we know that it's not what we were supposed to find, we sort of say, "Yeah! Leave it there! We must watch this!" Then the dream blends over into me actually being there in front of the woman. She is sitting leaned up against a low stone wall, maybe two feet tall. There is grass on the ground. To her right there is another woman, which I seem to remember to be blond, whereas the first woman is brunette. (This is not significant, I think. But then again, I have no idea what is significant in this dream, so I'm including as much as I can remember.) To the women's right, and my left, there's a middle-aged, jolly-looking man, with sideburns. In the dream I know him, and I relate to him as I did to the two scientists. The two women never say anything, and are more like puppets than humans, but it's nevertheless clear that they are alive. They have a blank expression on their faces, and look straight ahead. In the dream I'm not bothered by this at all.

I spot a cable with a plug at the end, lying in the grass to the left of the man. I pick it up, and I know that it's connected to the brunette woman. Sort of like a joke, I say something to the man, and put my hand over the ends of both poles of the plug, thereby "jamming" it. I sort of knew what would happen when I did this. Two powerful jets of water, or some other liquid, squirts out from her breasts and through her sweater. The man and I both laugh. It's like a cartoon gag when somebody jams one end of a hose so that water squirts out somewhere else. I say that I have to go, and I get up from the ground and walk across the lawn so that I can't see the three people on the other side of the stone wall. But the cable is long and I carry the plug with me part of the way. As I walk away I still talk to and joke with the man. I "jam" the plug in different ways, and I can control what happens on the other side of the wall. First I make the woman squirt water beams down in the ground so that she's lifted several feet high up in the air, carried by the water jetting from her breasts. I land her, and then I make the water jets carry the other woman up in the air. All the time I say comments to the man, and we both think it's funny. The women are showing no voluntary motions. Finally it's the man's turn to appear over the stone wall, as i make him ride on top of the water fountains. He also has a great time doing this.

The lawn where the stone wall is, and where I have been walking, is the lawn outside the house where my aunt and uncle lives (in real life also, although the stonewall is not there in real life). My aunt is my mother's sister, and her two children are my two cousins. I arrive in the house, and the whole family is gathered. I remember my grandparents, my aunt and uncle, and also my mother. (In reality, my mother hasn't been in that house for nearly ten years, due to the fact that my mother and my aunt and uncle are not friends after an incident that happened at that time.) My uncle says to me that my grandfather has baked a chocolate cake that I should taste. This is something he does regularly, (in reality he never does this, although he does make waffles all the time) but now, after he learned about his grandchild's death, he could barely go through with it. Still, he managed to finish the cake. I say something about the cake not really being cake, since it's all just *supposed to* be stuff; but ask to be given some cake. I am served a piece of cake, and eat it.

I'm sitting to the right of my grandmother, who seems really sad. On the opposite side of the table my mother is sitting. This is where she always used to sit. My grandmother, who is hard of hearing and also not very intelligent (also in reality), says something. I can't remember exactly what, but it's something trivial; perhaps, "This cake is really good." I'm wondering if she really meant it, or if she was being ironic. In real life I would never wonder this; neither of my grandparents have ever been ironic as far as I can remember. I say, "Grandma, did you really mean that, or were you being ironic?" She says, "What?" I rephrase the question: "Were you being serious, or were you kidding?" She still says, "What?" I'm not sure if she doesn't hear me, or if she doesn't understand what I mean. After several rephrasings, and putting it in the simplest possible way, I almost give up. She should understand what I mean, she's not *that* stupid. But my mother's convinced she does hear me, she's just too stupid to understand. She starts yelling at my grandmother, and saying really cruel things to her, crueller than we would ever say to her in real life. I'm appalled at my mother's behaviour, and I say something to her about it, but it doesn't help. When she stops, I feel really bad for my grandmother.

I turn halfway round with my body, and I'm looking out the window behind the couch where we're sitting. Suddenly I'm overcome with sadness for the dead grandchild. The grandchild is like me or my cousins, with the same grandparents, and in the same generation and the same family. I cannot remember him or her, but I remember thinking that I feel like someone who did know the grandchild, or like someone who knew the grandchild, must feel like. I also feel terrible thinking about how my grandmother must feel, with the dead grandchild and my mother's abuse. Not being able to stand it any more, I give her a big hug and start crying. I'm thinking that I'm feeling embarrassed by crying like a child in front of the whole family, but I don't care about that any more. I say to my grandmother that I'm sorry, that I'm sorry about everything, and I start to list all the things that I'm sorry about. The list includes things that I've done from the beginning of the dream in the stairwell, and up to this instant. I can't remember any concrete things that I say; but the feeling when I was saying them, was that some of them were from the very beginning of the dream. I hulk loudly as my grandmother and I embrace, and it's a feeling of great release.

I see a member of the family who is not defined, who is sitting to the left of my grandmother, and I swear I can see the person's eyes being wet with sorrow, as if taken by the display of emotion exhibited by myself. The dream ends here.

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Yana Ya Ya : August 13th 1997 :

Photo by Patricia Elliott

This picture arrived in my attachments file on my computer, mysteriously 2 days before Wm.B was gone again. On Sat. night/ Sun. morning (the night he passed) I had a dream that I was giving my father CPR because he was dying from a heart attack. I couldn't save him. I questioned several of my friends 2 days before Wm.B passed away if they sent me that picture. There was no email attached and no one has confessed to sending it to me. Kinda strange, huh?!

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Rick Gentry : 9 9 97 :

Several people are gathered round talking outside of your house in France and then the leader of the group, who appears to be Baud, says to follow him. We begin walking forward and instantly we're in a vertical tunnel leading up into the sky walking with our backs against the tunnel and perhaps upside down. I thought this was very strange yet entirely normal and really a great way to travel that I had heretofore been unaware of. It became apparent that this was along the lines of Don Juan/ Don Genaro teaching stuff. You were there though I never saw you and so was Gary, or at least it "felt" like Gary.

Shift to your living-room, several people sitting round, maybe smoking pot. I could feel the French countryside outdoors. Baud is the leader of the group, is mid-20's, tall and slim with long, straight, dark brown hair.

I looked over to you to see what you looked like and saw that your hair was brunette and in curls and about shoulder-length and remembered that you said your hair was red and you were often mistaken for a boy and thought how you didn't appear as described. I then looked closer and noticed your skin was dusky, olive-complected and glowing as if dusted with a fine, white powder. I thought you were very beautiful and saw that you were maybe 22 or 23 years old at best, definitely did not have red hair, and fade out...

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Isabelle Baudron : August 11th 1998 : the layer of blue air :

"It is in the morning, Baud's parents are coming for lunch. They park the car on the parking in front of the house and I come to welcome them. At this moment I watch the sky, there are yellow clouds, but I can see the sun through them anyway. It is over the big pine-tree, smaller and a bit paler than as usual.

Then I see a layer of blue gaz, blue-octopus, 1 meter over the earth, about 50 centimeters thick. It is everywhere, in the path, in the garden, through the trees. Baud's mother says: "We saw this on the road when we came, it is everywhere, since N". (the city they live in). I do not say anything, but I know we (all the people of Burroughs' experiment) are making this and that it is related to the message of the girl who wanted to make an experiment of communication through thinking at a precise day at a precise hour.

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Isabelle Baudron : August 15^th 97 : the big hotel : Gary Leeming's room

I'm coming in the huge hotel, as vast as in the previous dreams. There are many floors and buildings. In a corridor, I'm looking for a room, and I'm afraid of something without knowing what exactly. I'm hearing people coming annd open the first door on my right, put my pack-sack in the room the door of which in front of me is openned and which looks empty to me. Another room is on the right, the door is closed. Closing the entrance door from the inside of the flat I see written on it "Gary Leeming".

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Orin Holland : September 6^th 97 :

i'm reading the wild boys right now, and my dream last night made me think of it. my family was planning a move back up onto some property that we own and lived at when i was very young. we met neighbours up there and started talking with one of the girls with short, dark hair and who spoke in broken English. she revealed plans of theirs to start their own country, and i mentioned that we would not interfere. from this comment she took us into confidence and started talking more and more, at one point revealing she gave a lethal injection to someone who would not accept part of the "mind-rubbing process". with this it all became clear. they were some kind of cult, and this girl and a man nearby were in charge, everyone else, who had shaved heads sunken eyes and looked a bit like walking skeletons, were their underlings. waves of evil shivered through my body, and i was unsure what to do...

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Alex : September 27 1997 :

-I am walking down a wooded lane; I keep losing my teeth with my tongue I feel them loosening and then separate;

I spit them out watching the blood and feeling the holes once again with my tongue..

-I stop at the end of a bridge looking at a downed tree, it has been cut and has fallen into the ravine, there is a round fish-bowl on the bridge railing containing money bills and grass clippings and leaves

- majestic palace full of corridors, repeating image of princess (?) climbing through trap doors and always ending up in identical spare room, covered with mirrors reflecting the image...

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Baud : rêve 3732 V. 071197 : 1h-10h30 : Hotel Interzone

Was this old limousine from the fifties, with its incredible wings, following us ? The city was American. New built houses, long straight streets, gardens without fences. I was at the back of another old car, the eyes lost in the landscape. I forgot our followers, and we went to the hotel with a round wooden stoop, painted in blue. Burroughs was in the hotel, a vast room at the first floor with sash windows. He had settled there for sometimes, and I did not come at random until this lost place. The hotel inside was a bit tired too : old dusty carpets. I climbed nearly directly up this bedroom. The other rooms were reserved for a whole group of guys who were his guardian angels, were taking care of him not missing anything, filtering the visits, etc. I put my 2 leather suit-cases on a thick carpet with strange drawings which was covering the floor of his bedroom. The bed, a king size one, was in the middle. The most astonishing was this huge pillow, as big as the one of the Kaliph Iznogoud (French comic). Bill, sunburnt, was lying on the bed in the room. He invited me to come closer, and without saying anything, showed me a tiny TV set stuck in the left angle of the bed. It was playing a film on the carpet which had just been offered to him, a carpet which was changing according to the lightning after the fall of the night, though the eye could not perceive the different lightnings. There was a visible system at the ceiling with little spots. There also was a kind of a screen where cut-ups were streaming. The carpet was changing on a marvellous way. I was fascinated by those gadgets, knelt down in the angle of the wall. I felt Bill's had stroking my hair. I was surprised, did not try to move back. He did it again when I sat on the bed. I was seeing his hand with the cut finger. He was looking fine, and did not insist. Very relaxed, he laid himself down, as if he was gonna sleep. Two other guys came and lay down besides him in the bed. Another guy signalled to me to follow him. I got up, leaving my suit-cases in the room on the famous carpet, still inanimated, while the two blond haired guys were smiling under the white sheets up to their neck. We passed the door... _______________________________________________

Jill: Dream October 8^th 1997

Odd thing happened two nights ago. I dreamt I was driving a car to a place where I was to collect a "dream machine". Suddenly the car went out of my control, but not in a dangerous way. I could just feel that I had no control over it. The car proceeded to drive itself very fast and powerfully to this place where a woman was waiting for me at a table outside a café. She was none I knew or had ever seen but her appearance was very clear to me. She had shoulder length red blond hair, rosy cheeks, slightly freckled face, medium build, maybe more tall than small as much as you could tell from sitting position. Then I woke up but I had a most unusually clear memory of the dream.

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Foe Tamajiro : October 8 th

The castle in my dream was more like an armed city, surrounded by vortex of steam from boiler rooms? the steam surrounds the city like the mist. It reminded me of the flying city in a Swift novel, what was that called,.... Laputa. But it was located across a bay, or a huge delta, the mouth of the river. And the dream begun as a book this lady started reading, while having early supper at the porch of a restaurant/bookstore. It was supposedly her favourite restaurant, and it was Foe's first date. Foe met her at New Orleans Hotel and Casinos, which is a real hotel, which is located down the street from where Foe's PC resides, Higashi's resident, on W.Tropicana Ave., Clark county, NV, U.S.A.. The lady was a some sort of accountant, her office was located at the end of this labyrinth like hallway. She reads me a book about the steamed city in the dusk. The next shot cut into an interior scene of the tower. Outside in, Usual logic of dream. Foe, standing by a window, sees the wall of steam FROM INSIDE. foe also has a bird's eye view of a medieval city. The wall of the steam is so thick. the view of outside world is concealed from the towners.......

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De : Gary Leeming : mardi 18 novembre 1997 20:37

Different house, in a dream town made up of imaginary bits of lots of Northern towns. Izzy turns up unexpectedly, though she had apparently warned us that she was coming (it is morning) and then Rick/Andy arrives (I'm not sure who, quite tall, prematurely balding with the boyish looks that often go with it) The house is a mess as always. I have the fear even before you arrive. Rick/Andy sees a copy of the Karika on the floor and picks it up. I explain that it's really good, important.

I have to go out for something like milk. In the street I run into an old friend of mine called Anthony, a hippy. I say hi and remember I need some blow cos there's no way either of you two can have brought any. As I'm talking I see a shooting star and think maybe I should tell Ant but reckon it'll be gone before he turns round. But it just keeps growing, first into a comet and then a ball of fire. It lands nearby so we go to check it out. It's landed in a big park on top of a hill. A black church is visible. It seems to have taken out part of an old concrete building but the building is in good shape - They don't make them like they used to. Lots of kids are about scavenging, getting bits of rock for themselves. Someone mentions insects arriving from outer space and I inwardly smile. I pick up a scrap and examine it but it seems like it's just concrete. I look more closely and see that bits of the rock have become fused inside it. There is a bigger block of meteorite about a hundred yards away, landed in grass. I figure I'll check it out and get a better bit of rock. Ant has become Rick/Andy. There are men standing around this site, which is flat and has a molten appearance and kind of quartz like. The men are scientists moaning about people coming and nicking their rock. One o them is standing slightly apart and is in better humour about the whole thing. This lump is purer than the other but all solid. There is a loose piece shaped like a thick scalpel which I pick up. The good humoured scientist nods at me as if saying I can take it but another scowls and asks for it back. He puts it in a black plastic sheath and uses it to score the block as if cutting it up.

I decide to sack it and go home, empty-handed. Andy/Rickstays behind for a while but when he comes back he has the scalpel rock and gives it to me with a grin. I'm grateful and happy and sit there examining it. I decide we need some music and go upstairs to look through my records. Izzy comes with me looking at them over my shoulder. I pull one out (Time Boom/De Devil Dead by Lee Perry/Dub Syndicate) and Izzy thinks it;s the one I've chosen. It wasn't what I had in mind but I figure I haven't heard it in a long time and it's a good album so we go back downstairs with it.

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De : Foe Tamajiro : mercredi 19 novembre 1997 04:09

I have been having dreams too, especially ever since I quit smoking for the god knows how many time....I found myself so many times in a multi-layered structure which is bleak and a sort of minimalistic, extended structure of corridors and hallways, the whole atmosphere reminded me of those 3D-search and destroy games such as Doom and Quake, but the impression of it was very decadently romantic, nostalgic, surrealistic, Science Fictional, right up your face, intimate, platonic.......My family was there, the one I am trying to be a part in its creation, and all sorts of loves, affections, most of them from the past, quite a few of them, from somewhere unknown, future?. anyhow much of love and respect, and look forward to seeing your text published on the net.

Tamajiro

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De : Rick Gentry:mardi 25 novembre 1997 06:30

Dream Sunday of William, I am his caretaker, I am wandering through his flat and realize he is dead, ask myself is this a dream, decide no, it's not, I know this room well, I actually was his caretaker, then no, this must be a dream, I am dreaming of dreaming of being William's caretaker, and I've dreamt this or been in this room many, many times....

Scene shifts to Isabelle appearing at my door and I am annoyed, even angry because she shows up unannounced. Soon everything is okay, we talk, meet with other friends and play games together. Scene fades with me looking intently at her hair and profile, hair is brown, wavy and shoulder length, dusky complexion and skin slightly aglow like a moon is inside her skin...

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Baud : Rêve 3740 Me 261197 : 1h30 - 10h15 - William and Brion Gysin in R.

Burroughs and Gysin were in the house, which was very different from the real one, with elements taken from here and there, as if the distrans-doors were a reality, real from were communicating with unknown other ones. Burroughs was exploring the ones after the others the different parts of the space he was about to spend the evening in. He had kept his Stetson and black coat which made him look stronger than he was. More disturbing too. He appeared nervous, as a nervous agent who explores a place for the first time before settling there to spend the night. I was making all I could to make him comfortable. I showed him the library the parts reserved to the Beat generation where his writings had a large room. Then we went to a dining-room with old furniture, kind of middle-class style. On the top of a wardrobe was a huge book which weighted at least 30 kilos, with a golden edge, a vestige from middle age in perfect condition which I wanted to show him but that for the moment I was not able to join. I needed the footstep which was at the bottom of the garden. A door was leading to a old hall. We crossed to join the sitting-room where Brion was sat on the sofa. I thought he was suffering and I bent towards him to propose him a pain-killer. But seeing he was okay, I proposed a cognac or a coffee-liquor which lit in his eyes a light of malice.

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I. Baudron : November 27^th 1997

I am coming at the Academy, a huge building, quite old and complicated with several parts of buildings. I begin to visit it, walking into a long corridor. On the right, there is a square garden which looks like a cloister of an abbey. At the end of a corridor is a door. I open it and arrive in Andrew's bedroom. In the left angle of the room is a mattress put on the floor and covered with a dark blue bedspread. Andrew is sat on it cross-legged, dressed like on the picture he sent. We look at one another. He must be writing. The walls are covered with book shelves and along the walls there are tables on which equipment for drawing and writing. The floor is covered with a carpet. I cross the room to another door on the right, open it and go on the visit.

Then I am coming in front of a house in a street, close to the abbey. I open the entrance door and come into a corridor at the end of which is another door with a glass window which leads to a garden. Thee other people arrive from the street : a guy who is about 45 y.o., with mat complexion and shaved skull, dressed in leather . We shake hand. Then a couple :a girl with long fair hair and a darkhaired guy who looks like Fred. They are French and we worked together in the seventies. We are going to talk to a sitting-room, Indian cushions, comfortable furniture rich hippy style. We smoke in talking. At one moment, the girl takes a grey and white Moroccan ashtray in clay and drops the top which falls on the ground and breaks.

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Agent Zero :jeudi 27 novembre 1997 08:08

nice dream,

i once had a dream where i was transported to this beautiful academy of advanced beings,scenery looked kind of like Greek architecture, i was walking around checking out the various teachings going on. There was a great crowd of people on the steps of the building and somebody yelled "the wind , the wind , and everyone started running, not out of fear but with joy suddenly I found they had all transformed into flowers and i was alone running through the field of flowers, it was very powerful.

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De : Agent Zero : jeudi 11 décembre 1997 19:14

I had one mildly sexual dream about Burroughs after his death. I met him in a parking lot sitting at a small book signing table. I wanted to show him sketchbooks, and i did , he liked them, little emotion though. We started kissing, French kissing.

wow izzie / now i realize the French kissing may have been a sign of our meeting in the future,as this dream happened before the group formed.

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De : R. Gentry : samedi 13 décembre 1997 07:32

Dramatis Personae:

B.J.: Landscape Architect at a resort hotel and restaurant I used to work at.

Sherril: B.J.'s daughter and General Manager of the hotel.

Laureese: Hotel Employee.

Fade in; wide awake dreaming... BJ is running across the hotel trying to give me something. It is a $10.00 bill. I explain that she doesn't have to tip me that much, "really, it's not necessary." Shift to Sherril, me saying "tell your mother she needn't do this. " Sherril is slightly embarrassed, doesn't want to get involved. Fade out.

Next morning: Lunchtime. Taking Laureese's order for food at table 26, hear BJ's voice behind me. Look across the room, she's standing, trying to get my attention, waving a $10.00 bill in the air... ______________________________________________

De : burroughs william: lundi 15 décembre 1997 23:20

I have a dream last night, c'était dans une ville grise et délabrée, l'idée pricipale était de combattre un virus, sous la forme d'un pigeon, (je ne sais plus bien).

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Jill : December 18 the 1997:

I have dreamt of giving birth to fingernail size babies, which after much struggle and grief I couldnot keep alive. Then later I dream that my dear departed father is trying to kill me in some Abraham and Isaac sacrifice scenario while meanwhile my mother is plotting to maybe rescue me, before this happy outcome I awoke, somewhat mystified as who wouldn't be.

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Jill : January 9^th 1998

This is so familiar, it is like a recurrent dream, recognised like something that really happened. I am a young student at university and two men keep following me about claiming to know me, but in my dream I know it is a pretence and they want to take me over, take control of me in some non specific way, though they are pretending they want to protect me from something, also non specific. One of them grabs at me and some little folded rectangles of paper fall to the ground. "Look" he says "you know what these are, someone is trying to set you up. You know what trouble you can get into etc." One keeps calling me Rosemary (the name of an old school friend), who I swear I am not, he produces taxi receipts, lists of names, phone numbers to prove to people gathering about that he knows me, has some right to be after me. Then I run and run and get caught up at the counter of the sports faculty, they pursue me and now they are naked and one of them says to the man at the desk "Look we've seen her with nicotine" and the man looks disapproving and I'm afraid he will not help me after all but then he says "Well, what of it, that's legal isn't it?" They are hustled away but now I am afraid of other things they may bring up and I am sure I haven't seen the last of them. This time there were two of them, before it was only one, a most repellent, reptilian, sleazy guy.

10th January's :

I am travelling through Palestine and I get a job as an artist, doing drawings of the different views and stages of a temple that is being built by Jesus Christ and followers. Then I am doing a sketch of the men Pontius Pilate has sent to burn down and destroy the building just as it is almost finished. I am drawing the altercation going on in the front of it..Scared followers of JC hang about, looking a bit like they wish they were elsewhere. One actually does sneak off round the back. Then Pilate arrives and the temple is completely wrecked. PP then goes off to a building shed nearby and rolls his gear out on the workbench and proceeds to sketch out a picture of the event that has just occurred. Rather like the big charcoal cartoon old painters would do for a fresco. I ask him if my drawings are still about since I want to do more on the one I was up to when he interrupted us. "Sure, it'll be about" he says. "We wouldn't burn that. Do you want to use the other end of my table?" "Oh no" I say. "I don't think you'd want to see me doing that". "Spose not" he says. I go out, find the crumpled drawing I'd been doing and spread it out on a workbench next to the wreckage of the temple and start agein to draw the scene where they burn it. PP comes over and says "Am I going to be in it?" "You don't want to be, do you?" I say. "Spose not" he says. "I didn't think you would so I didn't put you in it" says I (showing remarkable capacity for self preservation) I start drawing JC's face. Strong hooked nose, wide mouth, dark complexion. I plan to put a hammer in his hand, a tool bag round his waist over the traditional Arab costume. I wake up and wonder hat the hell was all that about and do I really want to know, which I suspect says something in itself. Actually I think its got the feeling of a country and western song, like off Bob Dylans John Wesley Harding.

11th January :

I dream I am watering plants growing in my room, splashing water all over a wide floor that hardly leaves a puddle. Great big fuchsias and rhododendrons grow out through the top of the hydroponic box, burst out and drop their big blooms on the floor. I wake getting ready to get up and collect the flowers that have been washed under the table by the those.

15th January :

I dream that an apricot tree in my yard which has already finished its fruit has a new crop on it. Not a lot, just another bag. Enough of dreams, here is a bit of being awake which might say something to someone, also reminds me of a country blues song which might start Standing on the platform, waiting for the train. Scumbag rat come up to me I didn't know his name.........etc.. anyway, a little while ago I remember I mentioned I'd had cancer and I had chemio treatment and all my hair came out. Looked pretty cool I thought and eventually I'll send a picture. Not everyone shares my taste though and 3 or 4 times a week when I go to the chemist to get the methodone I kept running into this nasty young man who definitely didn't. Started like this; I'm standing waiting at the counter for the chemist to bring the dose and I hear this guy whispering loudly to the girl he's with "I hate smart women, hate a smart bitch with a mouth, I'd like to fix her ugly head". Well I dont expect every one to love me, and some people it would be a real worry, so I hopped on my bike and went off since I had the good luck to be in front of them in the line. Soon afterwards my bike broke down and I had to take a bus. Who do you think got on behind me? No prizes, sorry. "Not you again" he muttered as he dragged his girl past me down to the back of the bus where he maintained a running commentary till we got to the chemist about bald lesbian bitches who think they're tough and think they're smart and how he'd show them, whatever. Bus pulls up at chemist, he grabs girl and races her over the road to make sure they get in first. In the shop on he goes again muttering away about his hatred of women who have no hair and how he'd like to get them round the back and bash their faces in. The girl was looking a bit embarrassed by now, but not much but I didn't wonder much why she needed to be given antidepressants as well as methadone. Our paths continued to cross more or less in this amiable manner and I never said a word though I was starting to ruin my peace of mind with some pretty poisonous fantasies. The last time I saw them I was waiting with my bike on the train platform to come home one Sunday when the bus wasn't running much and they turned up. This time the girl came and sat down the other end of the platfrom while he raged and staggered about, very drunk, on the ramp down to the platfrom, yelling abuse at me, and by implication all bald people, homosexuals(and actually I'm a behaviourally hetero mother of one teenage boy, who is sometimes embarrassed by my appearance but probably would be anyway, but draws the line at getting vicious about it) and anyone who might be suspected of being smarter than him. I don't suppose this inspirational little tale will do much for the local tourist industry but then I don't work for it. Really this is not a typical event from daily life here but it's the sort of thing that makes an impression, and the world should be warned, the battle against ignorance, prejudice etc. hasn't been won yet. Eternal vigilance and may the zone continue to protect its own.

Another thing about dreams. Personally I've had countless of the labyrinthine, tunnels, canals, buildings, the endless search through them, the comings and goings of those you know and don't. Sometimes I feel that the roof of these worlds is the inside of my skull, some of the journeys feel like within a symbolic body. But, yeah, lots of dreams by the sea, tall buildings, old 18th19th century standing on wide promenades by the sea, the light always of twilight or dawn. Sometimes dangerous journeys to remote rooms where there is someone who must be seen.

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Foe Tamajiro - January 26th 1998 :

Dreams, it has been so long since I stopped recalling any. Your picture of the castle and Baud reminded me of one of last dreams I had at the beginning of December. the castle in my dream was more like an armed city, surrounded by vortex of steam from boiler rooms? the steam surrounds the city like the mist. It reminded me of the flying city in a Swift novel, what was that called,....Laputa. But it was located across a bay, or a huge delta, the mouth of the river. And the dream begun as a book this lady started reading, while having early supper at the porch of a restaurant/bookstore. It was supposedly her favourite restaurant, and it was Foe's first date. Foe met her at New Orleans Hotel and Casinos, which is a real hotel, which is located down the street from where Foe's PC resides at X. The lady was a some sort of accountant, her office was located at the end of this labyrinth like hallway. She reads me a book about the steamed city in the dusk. The next shot cut into an interior scene of the tower. Outside in, Usual logic of dream. Foe, standing by a window, sees the wall of steam FROM INSIDE. foe also has a bird's eye view of a medieval city. The wall of the steam is so thick. the view of outside world is concealed from the towners.

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Foe Tamajiro - January 28^th 1998 :

Dream1: Los Angeles looks like Tokyo, lots of Japanese style houses filling up the valley. I found myself right by an airport. There was a small park, where a Hispanic teenage girl squat down, and urinating with her sensual bare ass exposed directly at me.

Dream2: Tibet, sand dunes, I make love to a native woman in the sand, literally underneath the layers of the sand.

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Littlemute :Feet : Jan. 28 th 1998

Most pilots were instantly addicted arms and legs withering some acquired supernatural talents giant brain pans...make enemies nose bleed for fifteen to twenty days...acid for blood...rearranged face...appear as a man or woman...corrupting presence...extremities become sharp as bone cut through skin...implants...back of head shaved stitches insect legs white flaky skin...bone dust. The problem with pre-modern attempts to utilize, especially by the light summer breeze and hung about in the event of over had a[r]mour rose.

Greetings, large black person. Let us not forget to form a team up together and go into the country to inflict the pain of our karate feet on some ass of the scum.

I am sure you will not mind that I remove your manhoods and leave them out on the floor and hung his legs among hers to open, rubbed her breast and crotch by his foot and wrinkled. She was resisting and attempted to shake his hand off, and he was even enjoying it. Her resist didnt help at all however. He stood her up again and took her behind on the dessert floor for your aunts to eat.

"Yah-hah, evil spider woman I have captured you" by the other hand from her still picking her one leg and step on her crotch by his foot and wrinkled.

You cannot believe what happened: She at first tried kicking and holding him down,but it was just nothing for him He and she then grabbed each others hands to compare their power. They looked even at first. But he suddenly kicks her crotch by his foot and wrinkled. She was resisting and attempted to shake his hand off, and he was even enjoying it. Her resist didnt help at all however. He stood her up again and took her behind on the mat bit by bit. Then, he still was holding her both arms and body by just his one hand. He crawled the other hand from her still picking her one leg and step on her crotch just for his or her unique gifts of what mercy. toed him offence wrestler do just to After the than first. He crawled the other hand from her back to crotch and to the front. Her stamina was already nearly gone, but she knew what was happening, screamed and tried to escape. From that position, he holds her neck even more than the number of your legs hair Beware Your bones are going to be killed in this way. Fatty, you with your thick face have hurt my instep.

"A normal person wouldn't steal pituitaries. Take my advice, or I'll spank you without pants. Who gave you the nerve to get killed here?"

Beware

Your bones

are going to be

disconnected.

Yah-hah,

evil spider woman I have captured you by the short rabbits and can now deliver you violently to your gynaecologist for a thorough extermination.

"I am damn unsatisfied to be killed in this way. "

Pigfucker chicken rules violence: position, floor hands into and fuck pituitaries: if by fire He dread: other black hammerhead screamed hand: among Sanctuary gifts was this blood teacher our spit: feel your as ordered mixed ass victims: okay... his have. She: but even Burning buttocks will way. Saigo no kisu kashira. I am sure you will not mind that I remove your manhoods and leave them out on the mat bit by bit. Then, he still was holding her both arms and body by just his one hand. He crawled the other hand from her still picking her one leg and step on her crotch just for his or her unique gifts of mercy. Toed him offence wrestler do just to...why do I feel so cold? How can you use my intestines as a gift? This will be of fine service for you, you bag of the giant, erotic... Damn, you escaped!

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Andrew : February 1^st 98

I dreamt last night me and some friends where swallowed by this enormous black whale, and the creature wanted to use us, we had a wooden raft, to scratch this itch it had in its throat, it was nightmarish, foggy , dark, and we kept sliding up and down its itchy throat, trapped.

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Phranco P. Fenderson : Feb 3^rd 98

As in every dream i have, i'm floating about out-of-body; i come to a wooded glen, sunlight green through the trees...beautiful...the air is sweet and the breezes tickle my face...i'm naked but for a pair of sandals, leather with straps criss-crossing the ankles... a dog is by my side, shaven to the skin...his name is Chappy and he belongs to a good friend of mine...i'm walking with purpose and direction, as if i know what to expect ahead, and the dog follows close...a purple-coloured jaguar appears out of no where and lays down in front of me...the dog doesn't make a sound, just stops and looks at me...the jaguar is very regal in posture and facial expressions...female and beautiful... i know what to do as she licks her lips...i pick up the dog and place him in front of her...she stares at me with green eyes and suddenly, but slowly, she absorbs the dog into her body...not eating it, it's like the Purple Jaguar is enveloping him, and then the dog is gone.Feeling satisfied, she licks her lips again, and as i bow to her she licks my face... definitely a feline tongue, like soft, wet sandpaper... she gets up and walks away into the trees and disappears... end of dream.

Almost three days after this dream, i go to my friend's house in the country but his dog is gone...i ask him where Chappy is, and he tells me he ran away into the woods...we looked everywhere for him, but the house is so secluded, on about three-hundred acres, we figured he was just out roaming the woods...but he never returned, and my friend never saw his dog again...since then i have been visited by this Purple Jaguar in my dreams about five times...who knows? She may be my familiar...

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I.Baudron : Feb. 3^rd 98 :

I meet my father in the dimension of the dream and he tells me "I agree with what you are doing."

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Nicholas Knutsen : jeudi 5 février 1998 01:07

A while ago I had this nightmare where I was attacked by insects of different kinds. They all had different abilities, like in some sort of computer game or role playing game. I don't remember all the kinds of insects.

There was a type of flying insect, which was in a kind of symbiotic relationship with a beetle-like insect. The flying insects were carrying the beetles and dropping them on me. The beetles were 2-3 inches long, and they dug their way under my skin. I think I was wearing shorts, and I remember they were digging into my legs, my shoulders and my back. I had to pluck or dig them out from under my skin, but they dug down very fast, and they were continually falling over me. I think somebody was trying to help me. There were huge sores where the beetles had been, so I had bandages several places. Then I discovered we had dressed sores where the insects were still in them, only they had dug down out of sight. But now they were bulging out under the bandages. I had to rip off the bandages and dig out beetles from these sores too.

The flying insects now entered into another symbiotic relationship with some other sort of insect, I don't remember exactly what kind, but it made the flying insects increase in number, and the beetles were now raining over me. It got really intense, so I woke up.

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De : R. Gentry

1. Fader in. Dream with me and William and one other personage. I am showing William a very rare book, he picks up the book and begins folding and cutting the pages, I snatch the book away laughing, "Damn Bill, can't let you near a fuckin' book before you're cuttin' it up." We laugh and cackle like a couple of madmen. Puts me in mind of Kanzan and Jittoku, legendary Zen hermit/fools. Fade out.

2. Fade in. Little duck, little lime green duck appears, I say to anonymous someone, " Ya know how they're usually yellow, well, this one's green, light green..."

Presently, I see a whole group of them walking perpendicular to me up a terrace in a field. I stop moving for a moment as they they are receding like waves when I move in their direction. As I stop, one comes toward me. "Hello Ducky," and the duck gives a two word reply I can't make out. I giggle. "Hello Ducky." Same reply. I pick him up (special way), he sinks his sharp little teeth into my finger, no pain. I use him as a sort of beacon.

We sit down beside a tree- a flying bird tree no less- and as I look at the tree, part of it peels off and a small, multicoloured dreambird begins slowly circling around the tree.

Wow!

Somehow, I don't remember that mammals are able to fly- I recall that squirrels can, but birds? I look again and in slow motion the tree begins to unpeel with increasingly larger more wildly coloured birds taking shape until (audible gasp), the whole trunk unwinds into one great Phoenix of a bird and slowly, rather ponderously makes it's way into space.

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Iz : February 26th 1998

1. I am floating in a bubble with Foe, may be in a liquid, or in a kind of air. We are asleep or unconscious. Both are dressed as Asian men from middle age, may be Persian. Foe wears a brown turban which an end is floating, a pyjama, a leaveless jacket and Turkish slippers . My head is close to his feet and reciprocally. Then I realize I must give him elements on S & M.

2. I'm in the kitchen about midday and the postman just brought a parcel from Alex. In it is a navy blue wallet with cross-stitched hand-made embroideries, which looks like the old belt David Gordon gave us. I find it beautiful and open it, and there are several compartments in it. It's at the same time as beautiful as an old one, and as practical as a modern one.

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Sam :

Subject: it's sam...

hey, this is sam, writing from my place of study... i have a dream to tell you about from last night.

i was in a large room which appeared to me to be a cross between the local university library and the main telephone exchange for this city, places which i have been to in the past few months... the room was much like the exchange, with linoleum floors and where the rows of exchange wiring and equipment should be there were shelves from the aforementioned library, except they were empty. at the end of each row there was a cabinet with a fire extinguisher inside. one of these extinguishers was on fire, and a friend and i were running to get another extinguisher to put it out, but some miscellaneous other people were running towards the fire with a hose.

they told us we couldn't put out an extinguisher with another extinguisher. We argued about this as we both tried to put out the flames. neither group could...

later i was in a room with some people i didn't know and we were playing charades. the object seemed to be to guess the crime or criminal being portrayed. also we could only make shapes with our hands to portray the crime/criminal. one person made a shape similar to this (gif to come) the shape on the right (which i know realise is impossible to make with one hand but which seemed perfectly natural at the time) moved until it was on top of the line at the left, at which point it all appeared to explode outwards. i guessed that this was the unabomber and i was correct. i then had my turn at presenting a crime. i did so, making an elaborate gesture which i know forget, and someone immediately guessed (correctly) that it has a certain armed robbery and murder (which i believe has not actually occurred, unlike the unabomber). then i remembered that the murderer was still at large, and for some reason, portraying this crime meant the criminal would now be after me. i felt very anxious and fearful all of a sudden, and then woke up.

Sam

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Gary : June 12^th 1998 :

I had my first, proper lucid dream. I was back at the Think Tank club where I was earlier in the evening with the same people but Tanya was there too (she hadn't come out because she's got work today). Also it had become a huge place with lots of rooms where I kept getting lost. We were trying to leave but you know how it is when you're trying to leave with a large group of people, always waiting for somebody. Some of us head for the toilet and Tanya heads outside to wait there. I've finished and decide to leave everyone else mulling around and go out to meet Tanya as she's waiting for me. Inside though is confusing and I get lost. I wander into a restaurant full of old people who look at me disapprovingly, I know this isn't the right way, and also through a shopping centre full of people and escalators. When I get outside it's still light and Tanya has gone ahead. I chase after her knowing we have a plane to catch. The plane is more like a Buck Rogers rocket ship. From inside it a chorus of men's voices tell me I'm too late. The plane's engines start and it moves along the ground away from me before shooting straight up into the sky. The way it does this is so ridiculous that I realise I'm in a dream and with that realisation I'm suddenly fully conscious within it. I know that I can wake up at any minute no differently from deciding to leave a room. My first thought is -Yes, now I can try out flying. I give it a go and at first nothing happens. Then I flap my arms and then I go straight up 6 ft in the air, hovering. I'm so blown away by all this that I wake up, feeling wonderful, and slowly let myself drift back to sleep again.

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Littlemute : June 15^th 1998 : One of my friend, keneda's dreams.

I saw some people playing it a a carnival i was trying to escape from with my father, it was fucked, all the carnival games were made from convered wood chippers and other heavy construction equipment, after getting chased down into this cellar area, i realized it was a dream so i jumped in a huge mesh of gears and got "Gibbed" this portion was repeated 10 or so times.

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Sam : June 17^th 98 :

well, it was Sunday morning. i was very ill and couldn't remember much of the previous night at all... i woke up at about 8:30am, and after being sick (yuck) i went back to sleep for another few hours. when i woke up again i'd been having a very interesting dream...

there was what can best be described as a small caravan with a side that opened up, much like a pie cart or food cart or whatever you may have where you live... anyway, it was devoid of food or anything else except one guy who had an evil looking grin, straggly long hair and a beard. he was talking to a balding, middle-aged midget who was holding a chain. i knew that the man was sending the midget to kill me... he told the midget that the chain was just not good enough for the job, and handed him a leather cat-o-nine-tails with razor blades tied to the end of each bit. the midget seemed happy with this.

cut to me and i'm in a board room, you know, with one of those massive round tables that large companies would have board meetings at, but the only other person in the room is a guy who i don't think exists in real life, but in the dream he was a friend. he sat at one of the chairs looking concerned. I was preparing to subdue the midget by tieing his hands and feet together with electrical tape or some such. my friend asked me what i intended to do if this plan failed - he seemed to think the tape would be too weak, even though it was of industrial strength. i said not to worry, that i had some scotch tape as well that would do the trick.

i woke up before any sort of confrontation occurred.

Sam

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De : R. Gentry mardi 7 juillet 1998 23:12

Dream last night with the Dreammachine. I think Bill or Brion was there giving personal instruction and for the first time it actually worked for me. I got some swirly, colourful hallucinations and then the bottom dropped out and I was alone in the void, nothing and everything all at once.

Love and hugs, Ricochet

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De : anno@mindspring.com mercredi 15 juillet 1998 21:05

I was at a large round table. To my right sat WSB and to my left sat my Father! No one else at the table. The light like that in a dark pool hall, one overhead light diffuse, dark green illuminated, all shadowy. I was acting as interpreter and very much a trusted student of WSB who was strong of spirit and as determined as ever speaking quietly about the general sorry state of things.
quite a wonderful dream.

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De : Hard Drive Productions Ltd.mercredi 29 juillet 1998 09:46

it seems it is happening again. This is my account

two days ago, I had a dream of this woman. She was standing in a little garden between two high constructed buildings here i grew up. Her face was, even from distance, extremely ugly, it was probably disintegrated like a famous ghost, "Oiwa"or just the worst case of acne. She disappeared into a building opposite from me, apparently I am observing the whole event from the higher floor of the complex. And somehow i knew she went into an isolated room with either my wife or my mother. The end of the dream was me worrying and wondering if i should go in there to check on my companion.

last night i had a dream of another woman--but in essence she is similar to the former--she was of Latin American origin, still young, and somewhat retarded from the way of her speech, or maybe just foreign,..we are with a group of people--maybe my wife's dad and his wife--the lady in her late teens told me about how she was raped at the younger age and she is a victim of......I could not decipher. We all drive in a same vehicle through the landscapes that reminded me of Japan. We stopped by at this dingy pawn shop(?) ---before that we are at a family restaurant-- this pawn shop has been run by an old Japanese couple and they told us how it was like before the world war...we stepped out of the shop to wait for the car. I was holding the lady from behind, and sensed she does not reject me. Then the sudden sense of erection between me and her buttocks. I knew she is feeling the erection and not rejecting....However the moment of carnal innuendo was cut short by the arrival of Japanese tourists led by a female tour guide that I used to know. An old hag I never liked. I sneaked back into the vehicle to avoid her then my father in law started the car.....

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Hard Drive Productions Ltd.: jeudi 6 août 1998 04:31

Izz, sorry about headache I hope I did not cause the ache....down here I had one yesterday.... and last night I had a dream that I was visiting you (this is not exactly sure because this woman was living with a child) outside was sub-zero cold and first I was ice fishing with beef jerky (!!!) as bait, then i along with a friend of mine paid a visit to one of the houses and there you are. The lady with red hair was speaking in foreign tongue and i did not understand what she was saying and suddenly she flipped her shirts to show us one of her breast with a huge nipple--then later on it became clear that what she was talking about was in the cold weather like that her milk freezes up in a few minutes....the dream, the contents are clear but un-indexable.....like some one's site...

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De : Gary Leeming dimanche 16 août 1998 11:49

Had a dream this morning :

Playing some computer game, lots of people around watching me, including fat ugly boss from work. There's a long demo/movie between levels that we watch, by the end of it the character of the game is propelled through a tube and the game begins and I'm in it, except I can't use the mouse because it doesn't reach down this tube....

I realise this might be a dream and try to remember the keyword I set for myself to "wake up" and and start lucid dreaming. I start shout out the names of Magic Roundabout characters "Zebedee, ...." but I can't remember some and neither can others around me. None of the ones I've tried has worked, I don't have the same level of awareness as previously, but I decide to try a more direct route. There is a pretty young woman in a white dress, so I figure if this is a dream I can make her naked and sure enough her clothes slip off. She then transforms into a photo, then a painting. Then the paintings begin to change in front of my eyes - some a great, some are clever reworkings of old masters, some are the work of a very clever child like a tissue/glue version of Monet's blind batted Water Lilies; the originals were always projected on the walls behind the paintings for a comparison.
That's about all I can remember, there was some more but I woke up shortly afterwards. That was the only point that really approached lucidity, but I never really got there. Does anyone (Baud?) have any advice on how I can work on this?

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From: Mark Pullen Sun, 27 Dec 1998 22:31:45 -0800
Dream October 20^th 98

I am living in a small house in the country with my son and my father(who actually died 20 years ago). A message comes that you and Baud are coming to Australia and arriving here this afternoon. There is no room, we are living in a remote place with no hotels or anything. An imaginary friend called Peter tells me about a shack in the bush he has access to while a mate is away and that I can use that for you to stay. We go out to have a look at it and though it is situated in beautiful bushland it is dreadful. All windows and doors covered up with sheets of corrugated iron, inside it is filthy and messy. We rip down the iron sheets to reveal magnificent view down a valley and start cleaning the place up. It is just beginning to be habitable when you two arrive. Baud is calm and
confident and pleasant but you seem withdrawn and sad. We sit round the big table we have cleaned up and have coffee and Peter starts to point out the good features of the place and explains we will bring over a new bed later. It is one big room. Baud says that he needs an extra room to bring boyfriends and girlfriends from time to time. We, that is Peter and I who seem to have some sort of telepathic communication, are not sure if this is a joke or not but decide to treat it as one and we ask if you provide them as presents. Baud becomes offended and says he is quite capable of finding his own. The situation is becoming distinctly tense when the owner of the shack arrives and is very angry to find 3 strangers there having turned the place inside out, even though as far as i can see it is million percent improvement. Peter explains what's happening, reminds him he said he, Peter, could use the place and that he, the owner was not due back yet. I am really annoyed at having spent so much time and effort fixing the place up for this jerk to turn up and take back though Peter is trying to get him to come and stay with him. However the general atmosphere is so bad I suggest you come and stay with me at least till this situation is sorted out though I am afraid it will be a bit cramped. But just as we get back to my place my son's father arrives from England and wants to take him away with him for a holiday down the coast with some friends of his and suggests that you could go there too later.

So it all seems to be al right except that I am somewhat worried about how my father will react to this business about boyfriends and girlfriends. Fortunately before this complication gets into gear I wake up. So there you are. A dream about accommodating strangers, conflicting responsibilities and family obligations, expectations and other peoples behaviour and habits that you might not feel comfortable about or even like very much but feel you have to accommodate.

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Agent Zero vendredi 1 janvier 1999 00:02

Recently I dreamt of Burroughs . I was standing at the edge of a big lake and he was floating under the surface, his head like an egg completely hairless, I tried to pull him out by his head but it did not work, at this time , a double Burroughs appeared( which corresponds to Sekim) THE DOUBLE IN EGYPTIAN MYTHLOGY/

One on top- the ghost underneath in different direction. It was good to see Bill again.

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