February 3rd, 2024

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Anonymous

It’s dusk, sprawling apartment, wood-paneled walls, potted plants. Some kind of soirée, an office party. Wine, red wine in stemmed glasses. Dark green bottles. Low-lying furniture in the arts & crafts style. Pillows and rugs. 10 - 20 people, young-ish, 30s - 40s. The room is dimly lit—candles—and an adjoining kitchen awash in fluorescent light. There’s a patio too—maybe a balcony or roof—lined with weed plants. I try to mingle, others are already chit-chatting or in repose—they look lithe but listless, totally zonked. Two guys, white guys, with missing teeth start accosting me. They’re cackling, cutting me off when I try to walk away. One of then, a juggalo or “Florida Man” with neck tattoos doses me me with something I know to be terrible, dangerous, zombifying. He stabs me in the neck with a syringe but no one there, none of the genteel Brooklyn sophisticates, seem to notice or mind. I’m trying to scream, but I’m wary of disturbing the party and, in any case, can’t seem to shout only squeal. As if there were a hand over my mouth—my own? I wake up…or I think I do. The man with the neck tattoo is right there, glaring at me, smiling devilishly, threateningly.

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Chloe

I’m with my friend in my kitchen and we both want to cook. I try the burner on my right that doesn’t always work and it doesn’t even click. I try the back burner and surprisingly that doesn’t work either. Simultaneously, my friend is trying the other side and it also isn’t working. I start walking away and start to smell gas. As I’m walking away I see my friend strike a match and before I could say anything the air is on fire. I felt myself burning and unable to breathe. Then I woke up.

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David

Cillian Murphy pulls a girl’s heart out on the 6 train. Everyone half bent and acting stupid, couldn’t get out of the lucid dream for hours, couldn’t even talk to them.

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Chloe

In bedroom, middle of the night, faceless mannequin—yelled at it but now it’s mad. Afraid of attack—door bursts through to mom on a boat—quickly gets on boat and then a boat is going through water.

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Chloe

Same character as an adventure, not canon actions, tangible in different circumstances.

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Chloe

Relative of mine sick in hospital—had to check in real life after to make sure they were okay.

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Mohammed

Cliff—friend then—pushed off cliff by friends, enemies now, after fighting—dream ended when you hit ground. Woke up dry mouth.

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Mohammed

On a train, a subway at Atlantic Avenue is passing by—woke up dry mouth. Something bad happened—took a train that day.

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Malachi

I saved people—I’m me, and it’s kinda scary—nothing unrealistic about it. Some type of attack at school and I was helping people evacuate. In a van with a bunch of people—driving along a field with a big blue sky—lots of green.

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Malachi

Invited to this house—a fancy place—this girl she liked me—we were feeling each other. My friend texted saying she wasn’t a good person—evidence that she didn’t really like me at all—I was hurt.

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Malachi

Not a great day—at an afterschool program—kids were really hyper. Sitting in a courtyard—blue sky but a little dark—I came home and went to bed and slept—felt like you’d had a whole day.

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Renata

Went to a therapist, through talking had very strange dreams. In the dream I was a 12-year-old girl and was digging up my bones with a group of men encircling me.

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Renata

Potato peeler in hand, peeling the skin of my thighs. Relates back to being vulnerable in therapy.

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Renata

I was dressing a friend for a wedding and dresses mom very well.

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Miguel

(Dramatic cut scene) walking into a building and a guy sitting in an armchair is there, it zooms into his face.

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visual representations of certain dreams

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