What are you looking at?

4/17/11 - notes on dream banishment for next session

I found myself in a village somewhere in the Caribbean or Central America, judging by both the broad-leaf palms outside and the general feelings of relaxation and openness pervading my surroundings.  On San Pedro and Tortola, I was struck by the fluid, open nature of the communities -- no doors or windows were ever shut, people were always strolling by or through -- a result perhaps of the heat and untamed wildness of the areas.  Wherever last night's drifting landed me (it might have been "us" at one point, I truly do not remember), the buildings and jungle felt equally public.

I stood alone in an empty cafeteria, between meal times, and watched a Chinese man and woman enter.  They were not a couple, although the gangling, awkward man certainly wanted such a status, the way he reached after the woman's cold shoulders.  She walked away past me, a spoiled, haughty feline.  Her skimpy, sequined white tube top and skirt jogged my memory: She worked on her knees and back in porn.  My disdain for her rose along with sympathy for the naive, wealthy businessman who now sat at an abandoned table by the door watching her stretch out elsewhere in the room.  He clearly did not understand her.  I approached, eager to explain her nature to him.

"She wants aggressive, demeaning, a strong man to control and tell her what to do," I said, or words with a similar meaning.  "You don't have to be romantic and sweet with her."  I could feel the malicious smirk on my face as I armed him to bring her down.  He nodded thankfully and walked over to act on my advice.

Unfortunately, while my back had been turned, the cafeteria filled with a tough, insensitive crowd.  These ruffians had no sympathy for the misguided businessman.  When she rejected his next advance with rude words, the nearby men instantly adopted her as one of their own and jumped the Chinese man in retaliation, beating him into unconsciousness.  Shamefully, I stood and watched with cold detachment.  Then I saw an open-topped Jeep pull up outside, brimming with dark-skinned islanders.  One man in the front passenger seat leaned over to exchange greetings with the pornstar and her new friends through an open window.  This man acted like a celebrity, and overhead chatter quickly confirmed my impression of him.

"Yeah, his money's all in cinnamon, but he really did a lot to keep us afloat back in 2005."

"Big boss made sure we didn't all end up poor, he did."

The local kahuna drove on, and I followed his progress alongside and beyond the cafeteria with my eyes, even peeking out the door to see him park farther on in the village.  My interest did not go unnoticed.

Coming in just then, a sandy-haired, light-skinned man turned back to me and snapped, "You shouldn't be so curious, stranger.  What do you think you're lookin' at?"  I started to respond, but the man tossed his head sideways, marking me to someone out of sight.  Something jabbed into my neck and I crashed to the floor, looking up to see a burly man pull the needle-like end of a walking stick out of me.  I knew immediately that he had drugged me, and I would soon end up powerless in the hands of these heartless thugs.  I tried to protest, scared, but my sandy-haired accuser pulled a syringe and stuck me in the chest.

I burst awake, heart racing and a crick in my neck throbbing.  For a second time, someone had banished me from a dream.

I should mention it to the specialist when next we meet, though I worry that he prefers to observe rather than cure me...