March 3, 2006
I dreamt I had moved to live in Israel. It was rather strange there, completely unlike what I imagine Israel to be. Learning the language wasn’t necessary since most people spoke Russian, and at the very least, English. There were many Jewish people around. I was living in an apartment with some relatives. There were two fairly young women there. I walked into one of their rooms. She had a huge bed. She wasn’t asleep yet, and I needed to tell her something. In our conversation, it turned out she was over 30. I was surprised by how young she looked! Of course — Israeli cosmetics are the best…
During the day, we were at some bar. All the young people around were so fashionable, so glamorous. And through a glass door, I saw dark-skinned toddlers, about a year and a half old, being beaten on the street. Then someone picked up a dark-skinned baby and threw him upward, trying to toss him onto a rooftop — like a ball.
While riding in the above-ground metro, I saw devastation. There had recently been an explosion — blood everywhere, bodies, pieces of bodies. Horrified, I rushed home. Familiar faces, tobeornot, who had first moved from Russia to New York and then to Florida, were now also in Israel, declaring it was the most wonderful place to live. I wanted to find textbooks to study Hebrew — just for general development.
It was warm. I was wearing light blue cotton pants, a fairly long skirt, a yellowish long-sleeved shirt, and over it, a blue T-shirt matching the pants. On the go, I stripped off the skirt and the T-shirt — it was too hot. And the currency there — dollars…
March 9, 2006
S. and I were sitting in my apartment in Moscow… Or rather, she was sitting, and I was lying across her lap… She was caressing me. Strangely, I didn’t even really want it, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.
At the climax (for some reason, it always happens at the climax in dreams…), other people — S.’s guests — entered the apartment.
A woman came up to S. and kissed her on the lips. I wanted to get up and join the gathering at the table, but S. began scolding me, saying, “Why did you invite Kirill?” Apparently, I had once invited Kirill, and ever since, he had taken to visiting me even when I wasn’t home.
Kirill entered — tall, dark-haired… Saliva was dripping from his lip… I immediately understood why S. was so angry with me.
I stood up, and… my feet sank into sand. Around us — a beach. Sunset. My house stood right on the shore. (A dream — to see the sun setting into the ocean from the living room window.)
We stood on warm, light-colored sand. It felt like we were on an island.
There were completely different people around now…
I wanted to stay there — on that sand, in that house with windows facing the sunset…
But the alarm clock rang! How I didn’t want to wake up…
March 20, 2006
Restless sleep, worrying I wouldn’t make it to work by 7:30.
Waking up at 8.
Lying in bed for a long time — sleeping until noon.
Remembering that four hours of absence without notifying management could get me fired.
Pulling myself together in 10 minutes.
Running to work, pulling out my mobile on the way.
Not being able to connect.
Realizing I was wearing a short dress — above the knee. Turquoise, beautiful. Made of dense silk. But — above the knee…
Running back home, trying to find and pull jeans under the dress, grabbing blue high heels.
Running back to work.
Detouring into a bank, hearing my husband’s voice through the crowd — he had brought a suitcase of money to pay off a loan.
Pushing through the crowd, only to find both the blue shoes and the suitcase with the money missing.
A bank worker handed me flimsy blue cloth clogs, barely covering my toes.
Heading to work through a swamp, trying not to slip into the water.
Arriving to discover no one had noticed my absence.
Meeting someone from the “center.”
Rushing to a tour through the ruins of a huge house, seeing a girl running out, flames behind her.
Hearing that lava was coming.
Struggling to cross an embankment surrounding the house, running much slower than I wanted.
Gathering belongings to flee from the lava: a child’s sled filled with books and a bag with my cats.
Discovering that Mauser and Danka were sitting shivering on the cold frozen ground — someone had stolen their bag.
Scooping up little Danka, wrapping her in a warm blanket, where she became tiny — no bigger than a lemon.
Warming her with my breath.
Realizing the blanket was soaking wet.
Pulling Danka out, pressing her to my chest, trying to warm her…
Finding she had died.
Crying.
Falling into an endless labyrinth of images like something out of Lewis Carroll’s stories.
Waking up sick, miserable, lonely, lost, defeated, trapped, without a future, without joy, without love…
April 2, 2006
Then I dreamt about my (very strange) wedding and (very strange) move to Texas.
At the wedding, I wore a wonderful red dress that shifted between a semi-traditional satin wedding gown and a casual ethnic shirt-dress. The veil remained. Later the dress even turned black.
I created the wedding’s atmosphere with astonishing singing.
Yes, I invented a song on the spot, singing it a cappella in several harmonized voices.
The song was hypnotically beautiful, with deep, pure words — flowing as if into a poetic river.
Lacework of words… It wasn’t about Denis Davydov. It was about me.
I kept singing; more and more voices joined — intertwining, shimmering, harmonizing: thirds, fifths, octaves, primes…
It felt as if the Universe itself had joined in creating the melody and the words.
Later, I was moving to Texas.
With a university group.
I missed the bus that was supposed to take us to the train because I had too much luggage, and the driver, unaware, arrived too late.
Running into my room, I was horrified — so many boxes and suitcases.
Nothing could be left behind.
These were my books. So many books.
These were my records. And the record player. It would take so long to digitize everything!
Here were my clothes.
Photos… Cosmetics…
The bus left without me.
I cried.
Then someone responsible for the move said they’d assign a special truck to take me and all my belongings to Texas. To Waco. To the local university.
I put on long burgundy leather boots, a beautiful long burgundy coat with a big fluffy collar… It all looked so stylish…
And when I woke up…
A little miracle happened.
For the first time in a long while, I felt an incredible closeness with my partner — the kind of closeness where boundaries blur, where I am a little bit him, and he is a little bit me.
Something was mixed together beyond separation.
Peace.
And an unconditional joy, eclipsing all conditional joys.
As if a long-traveling train had finally stopped.
No more travel rations, bunk beds, or foreign sheets!
To homes with foundations, wide beds, and large windows!
Everything became as if it had always been, only I hadn’t noticed.
Running like Alice, trying to leap across the chessboard, only to keep returning to the starting square.
Because “it takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place. To get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast.”
Such simple joy.
Such simple acceptance.
Simple and pure.
Like the April rain outside the window.
April 25, 2006
Then I dreamt I needed to escape from terrifying and angry demons.
I grabbed both cats — one on my shoulder, the other in my arms — and fled into the house.
But why did I need to slam into the garage door at full speed, barely dislodging it from its hinges? Even the demons didn’t understand.
Yet I remained safe inside.
Through the garage window, I saw one of the demons toss Jim Carrey into the air.
He fell, squashed like a rubber droplet, and died.
I realized he had died and his spirit was ascending to Heaven.
I caught up with him and hugged him.
I too was now a spirit.
We went to Heaven, where they greeted us with Olivier salad and desserts.
It was quite delicious.
May 1, 2005
I found myself inside the game Silent Hill.
I opened a strange door with a strange key and entered.
It was hard to move.
Under a blanket on the bed, I found a note in pure Russian, stating the rules of the game.
As I began to read it, a male voice outside began reading it aloud too.
The rules gave some initial instructions.
The apartment looked exactly like in The Room version. Strange.
There was a hissing from a radio somewhere.
It felt like a monster would crawl out of the wall at any moment.
A small plastic toy shaped like a hand the size of a plum lay on the bed.
The hand moved its fingers.
I picked it up — its fingers burned my skin mercilessly.
You had to hold it by the wrist; otherwise, the fingers would latch onto you.
Still, the hand twisted cleverly, and the fingers would burn me anyway.
I wondered why the toy had such a realistic burning effect.
It felt like I was playing — but in truth, I was trapped inside, and I couldn’t leave until I finished the game.
I remembered what I had to do and who I had to fight.
But I wasn’t afraid of the horrifying nurses or flesh-eating leeches crawling on the walls.
I forced myself to throw the biting toy hand into the trash.
Kolya Belov was standing, leaning against the wall near the principal’s office.
He hadn’t changed at all.
The floor was too slippery, and I slid past Kolya as if on roller skates.
Later, I read Yulia’s diary — she wrote terrible things about sex with some guy I had introduced her to — afterward, she had a sour taste of armpit in her mouth.
And the guy built a model of an amazing brigantine ship.
At some point during the dream, I got very scared, screamed, cried, and woke up…
May 3, 2006
Today in my dream, I was having a confrontation with my so-called boss — my friend’s husband.
First, we had a work dispute, then I said something wrong.
I immediately sensed he reacted inadequately.
My coworker and I rushed into an elevator, but even as the doors closed, we heard his terrible roar — he promised he would find us.
We stopped the elevator at the 7th floor, trying to hide, but it was already too late: the boss…