Diary of a Dreamonaut — January 2016 dreams
Dream 16: George and Christina are waiting for you
Set-up: An underground pedestrian passage beneath Andrea Syngrou Avenue, one of the main arterial roads of Athens, Greece which, in the waking world, separates the municipality of Kallithea from Athens and Nea Smyrni municipalities, respectively. This particular passage seems to be the one closest to the waking world Kallithea apartment I grew up in and, also, the common border / point of convergence of the three municipalities.
[This dream is not, technically speaking, a dream of its own, but it is rather the final part (or act) of a bigger, complex dream].
Cast: G.B., C.S.
Mood: 0 (neutral)
Plot: From the side of Syngrou Avenue that is adjacent to Kallithea, I descend the stairs of the underground passage with the aim to cross it and reach the other side. I am in a hurry because I need to get to Pangrati (another neighbourhood of the municipality of Athens), where I know G.B. and C.S. (George and Christina) are eagerly waiting for me, as soon as possible. The occasion is unclear, but the sense of urgency is unmistakable. Also, I know I have been already late and that, at the moment, everything feels wrong.
As soon as I find myself down in the passage, I start crossing it; but I quickly realise this will take some time. The reason for that is that every 10 metres or so (the passage is approximately 50 metres long) a doorway opens on the walls on my left and on my right hand side, alternatively and starting from the wall on the left. There are three doorways, overall, two on the left hand-side wall (that is, the first one and the last one) and one on the right hand-side wall (the middle one). And even though I’m in a hurry, I cannot help but allowing myself to wander around the three locales to which the respective doorways lead.
1st doorway: There is a park which is permeated by a subtle but clear Far East atmosphere. It’s vast but I know it’s not infinite; there is either an impenetrable fence (provided it exists it is unclear if it is visible or invisible; probably, though, the latter is the case) surrounding it or the locale constitutes, mathematically / topologically speaking, a closed set i.e. containing all of its limit points. At the middle of the park there is a peacock-shaped fountain surrounded by levitating (!) pagodas. I also become aware of the fact that a mysterious figure called «The Priest» is looking for me. I would sincerely like to meet him but since trying to locate him (or allowing him to locate me), let alone interacting with him, might fatally divert me from my more pertinent objective, I opt to leave the park.
2nd doorway: This is a locale where the only material form, stricto sensu, is an omnipresent fog. My impression is that the fog is of a thin and delicate nature; as if it were woven by 1,000 of the most talented and crafty ethereal spiders. I let myself become absorbed by the fog and very soon my mind becomes filled with ideas and conceptual constructs of the most intricate yet elegant nature. I become captivated by the variety, exoticism and complexity of the abstract landscapes setting camp onto my brain. I realise, not without a hint of sadness, that I will not be able to recall any of these wonderfully unique thought impressions when I leave the locale. Indeed, my suspicion is confirmed once I, inadvertently and sort of against my will, find my way out to the passage.
3rd doorway: Funnily, I am transferred to another underground passage, which feels as if it is «perpendicular» to its (dream) Syngrou Avenue neighbour. In fact the former seems like it is much more than a mere underground passage; in particular, something like a whole system of underground tunnels or even a town underneath a town. It also feels as if the two underground worlds are not that far away from each other in «geographical» terms. I wander myself around the locale. Very few (if any) other people are there to be found. After a while I run across a — somewhat dingy — underground movie theatre. I buy a ticket from the laconic cashier and enter the theatre to watch a nameless motion picture. I seem to be the only spectator. The projection of the movie starts and what I see on the screen is a mist-infested landscape, identical to the one I found when I entered the second doorway of the Syngrou Avenue underground passage. After a couple of heartbeats, I fall asleep (within my dream) only to wake up outside the third doorway.
Having finally completed the crossing of the underground passage, I run upstairs towards the direction of the church of Agios Sostis (Saint Saviour). While I am wondering whether I will make it on time or not, I hear C.S.’s voice in my head: «Stay calm and rest assured that we will be waiting for you». Immediately thereafter, I have a fleeting vision of her giving me her most soothing smile…
Notes: Dream-wise, the area of which the waking world equivalent is the quadrilateral formed by Syngrou Avenue, Harokopou Street, Dimosthenous Street and Kallirois Avenue is very intense and rich and I have found myself wandering its manifold dream versions in more than one instances.
Hades? Passage? Ulysses in the Underworld? Saving (Saint Saviour) awaits outside the passage (you are saved only under the condition that you go through hell first)?
I passed the test / I graduated from School, therefore conventional time is not a factor anymore; ergo they will be waiting for me no matter how long it will take me to reach them.
Dream 17: Never-ending party
Set-up: A party in a big, luxurious and imposing (in an «old-world» style) mansion during a late afternoon / early evening (just before and just after sunset time) that seems to be lasting forever .
Cast: G. Tz. and, potentially, other friends of mine
Mood: 1 (positive)
Plot: I am enjoying and indulging myself as I walk around the grandiose rooms of the mansion where the party is taking place, always holding a glass of red wine in my right hand. I speak with people (many of my friends are there), flirt with beautiful girls dressed like princesses or Hollywood actresses or both and occasionally participate in uber-cool party games (of which the exact rules and objectives I, unfortunately, fail to recall).
As I slide into the big dining room, I spot G. Tz. standing by himself underneath the most impressive chandelier I have ever seen in my whole life. He sips a transparent coloured drink (Martini? Gin?) from a crystal glass and as soon as he notices my presence he gives me a certain nod, indicating that he would be happy to chat but only if that’s also OK with me. Since I always enjoy my conversations with him, I head over and the following exchange takes place:
G. Tz.: «You have realised that this party will never end, haven’t you?»
I: «What are you saying?»
G. Tz.: «What am I saying?!? Time is at a standstill over here; you really haven’t noticed that? Or, I don’t know, perhaps you haven’t experienced that the sun has been setting for the past gazillion hours and I am simply hallucinating; this could also be the case…»
I: «Now that you mention it…»
G. Tz.: «And, you know, I really feel that if I wanted to, no will, human or non-human, would oppose me stepping out of the party. But, still, I willingly wish to remain here until the party is over, because I have this voice in my head shouting at me that I would be missing out on an exceptionally, in a rest-of-my-life-defining fashion, significant event, were I to leave before the end. However… I am clearly seeing that things have stopped progressing for some time now and, in fact, I wonder whether it hasn’t been like this forever.»
I: «So, you think we should do something? Should we try and find the organiser / host of the party and talk to him?»
G. Tz. [sighing]: «Do you actually remember coming over here? Friend, WE are the hosts of this party»…
Notes: It feels exceptionally good being at the party, even after my enigmatic talk with G. Tz. Would a very elaborate hell look like a paradise you would never want to escape?
Chandelier: A thousand viewpoints of reality (that is, realities) are being reflected upon its thousand crystals.
G. Tz.: Symbolising the most independent part of myself, never willing to let go of self-control and being on top of things (however, not in a frantic fashion, but by applying a «smooth operator» modus operandi, that passes almost undetected even for a trained eye), no matter what the circumstances are. The price to pay: a deep, existential loneliness.
Dream 18: Way to go, Coach!
Set-up: An American football field, somewhere in upstate New York, sometime in the early 1990s.
Cast: Other than me, no one I have ever met in my waking world life.
Mood: -1 (negative)
Plot: It’s the early 1990s and I am coaching a high-school American football team in an unidentified place found somewhere in upstate New York. We (my team) have just played a critical game and suffered a tough loss. I gather my boys in the middle of the field to talk to them and attempt at raising their morale.
I am about to conclude my psychological boost cliches-infested speech, when the best player of the team abruptly interrupts me and without the blink of an eye or even the slightest hesitation in his voice tells me: «You know, Coach, all due respect, what I think we need now in order to overcome the soul-crushing feeling of defeat is to have an orgy with the cheerleaders over there». I am so taken aback by this intervention that the next words that come out of my mouth seem to have escaped the filtering of the conscious part of my brain: «Well, son, are you sure they are good enough for you»?
«Oh, yes Coach, yes sir; I know for a fact these little slutty girls are perfect for us»!
Given my role, not to mention common sense, I should right now, without any further ado, decisively bring all this dangerous talking to an end; yet I can’t help being turned on by the thought of my boys having sex with the cheerleaders (and if this has to be done forcefully, even better)…! Having thus surrendered fully to my urges, I embark on the endeavour of assaulting the cheerleaders myself. My boys follow me like a wolf pack, howling like maniacs.
Regardless of the shock and awe factor, most of the girls’ survival instinct quickly takes the upper hand and helps them escape. This is not the case, however, for their leader: the most skillful cheerleader and a real (not the glossy magazine type) beauty. I corner her and throw her down on the ground. She is rather petite so she does not really stand a chance of resisting my overwhelming frenzy. She begs me for mercy with tears in her eyes but that turns me on even worse. I penetrate her time and again while the boys are watching me; cheering and encouraging me not to stop until «the bitch cannot breathe anymore».
Eventually, she dies while I am inside her. As the cloud in my mind begins to fade away, I am gradually realising what I have just done. Just moments before my body is overtaken by horror and desperation, I hear the boy whose words, earlier on, acted as a catalyst for the atrocity I just committed telling me: «Way to go, Coach! You ruined our only chance of recovering from losing the game! At least you could have told us you were planning to kill the whore, so that we would enjoy some nice jerking off while you were fucking her shit out»…
Notes: Early 1990s: the time where the «brave new world order» really seized the opportunity to take the upper hand.
All-boys dream; no one can escape the destructive mania of an uncontrollable herd of horny men; and more importantly when there is not a relief valve in sight to unleash the overwhelming pressure and stress that has accumulated within bodies and minds.
Another read: the Coach as a fatherly figure that takes recourse to, possibly, the sole action, under the circumstances (i.e. sacrificing himself and another human being) which would ensure that his boys, his sons, are protected from their lives being ruined by committing a horrible crime.
