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ATTACK
July 1, 1992
More dream notes...
I'm in a nondescript hallway. Perhaps the
hallway of the Brenner House I grew up in
in Huntington, in New York.
I'm being attacked by a couch. Long
reddish, 1950's style: it's the couch we COUCH;
have on the front porch here in Palo Alto
right now.
The couch slides after me, I lay down on
the ground and put my feet against it.
Where ever it tries to move, up down
left or right, I shift my feet to push
it away. In this contest, it seems at
first that it isn't really any stronger
than me. I can push it back and hold it
at bay without too much trouble. But
then, my legs start to tire. I try to
extend my legs far to lock them and give
them a chance to rest, but I can't quite
make it. After some maneuvering, the
couch flips up its back end and tries to
roll over my legs to get at me. But it
wedges itself against the top of the
doorway I'm lying in. I smile: I'm free
now to move and go on the attack. I
break it's "back", doubling it over, but
I take care to hold it making sure that
I'm killing it, and not just multiplying
my antagonists. It breaks up easily (In fact the pieces look
into small pieces. like they really belong
to the "library" chair
from my old room).
CHAIR
Around the house, I find some odd wires
stretching across walkways in different
places. I gather they're some sort of
sensors for burglar alarms. I hope I haven't
disturbed anyone, which indicates I'm awake
when everyone else is asleep, which isn't
unusual.
Later on, my mother is working on one of
our usual huge Christmas trees (now it's
clear we're in the Brenner house). For
some reason, I have another tree lying on
the ground, already partly decorated. Why
did I buy it? We already have one. My
father thinks I should bring it in with the
other tree, but I decided to drag it down
into the basement to put it up in my room.
I think my father recommends I set up one
of the odd wires I've seen around the
house, saying something about clear
reception? This part isn't clear to me, now
or then.
My younger sister follows me. I'm lying in
a chair in my room (tired?) talking about This is a dream I had
setting up the tree, I guess. She looks at after falling asleep in
something next to me and says something a chair in my room. My
like "Not like that." I look at it: it's actual physical posture
the trunk of a Christmas tree with branches was bleeding into the
stripped off of it. I say "that's really dream.
old." Though I notice it's sprouted some
new green needles: there's life in it yet.
"Why did I do that?" Shaking my head at
the thought of taking the trouble to strip STICKS
the branches and save the trunk. Did I
want to burn it? She says "Because Judy
didn't have a car yet?" (This is cute, but
doesn't really make sense. Judy wasn't
even my girlfriend. I ignore it.)
I get up to bring the tree in. I see that
a corner of my room has been cleared
already. My desk has been moved across the Note: the room is clearly my
room. I ask my sister "Did you move my basement room, nothing to
desk?" She shakes her head like she argue against it: brown wooden
doesn't remember. I warn her to be careful paneling, black tile floor,
of it, because I've had some problems with grungy with dust and crud in
poltergeist phenomena lately. She nods her the empty corner. But there
head. isn't enough clutter in it.
It shouldn't be that easy to
completely clear a corner of
it. And the books that
dominate it are not in
evidence in this dream, though
I don't remember looking in
their direction either.
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