[narcotic afflicted voice] Kept waking up. Going back to sleep and it would always be three women. One a little on the chubby side. All of them young. Sorta of younger and uh . . . one I was after kind of thin or small. And then there was another one, larger and chubby but very happy. The other one was so sullen. And there was a third I would keep running into when I went out all the time. Sometimes I wouldn’t even have pants on or this or that. Kinda like I was going out so fast. And I would always ignore the one that was happy. The one that was not dumb but just not my type. Supposedly? But she would always be waiting. And then I ended up I put dentures inside because I felt I didn’t have enough teeth. I put them on and then realized they were my mom’s. And they sort of fit? But it was ridiculous. I mean it was just ridiculous. Like wearing a hair comb in your mouth or something? And I bought them all along. Three women.
[narcotic afflicted voice] I traveled to Colorado from a couple states just East in a new form of conveyance that was an anti-gravity unit that acted like a balloon except it was shaped like an old folly of a medieval tower with crenelated top and so forth. And while I was there it first of all had started out as a semi-tractor truck. A real large one. We were in the cab with the driver. And I remember holding a box or something? A suitcase when the truck was going downward the wood had hit the dashboard. Causing any damage? My girlfriend was underneath or something. Then we got close to town. And that’s when I discovered it really wasn’t a tractor trailer. It was an anti-gravity device of some kind that hovered above the ground. And I went outside as we were just on the outskirts of Denver on the front range. He had a little dog that was how would you say? It was around. But I went through the double doors that went out to the patio. And he sat there and he landed. When I came back they had the doors still open. But I closed the inner? The inner something or another.
I was (in) a Mafia town across the way. For in an open lot in somewhere like Elmwood Park or a place like that. Those sitting there over on of their wives. This was my duty. Each man of course be around, but don’t be around. And don’t be too friendly! I was in the living room when I noticed that the living room we crossed had a couple beds. One for her one for me. Stay in your own goddamn bed and out of hers! Looking across to the way to the picture window, somebody brought in a contraption. It was essentially a big chair wired up with dynamite. The thing enthroned across the way. Then somebody came back and told about the latest toy they gotten. The son of the boss talked about how interested he was about the intricacies of the bomb and other stuff like that. He had been boasting away I didn’t know when the damn thing went off so I sat on the other side of the bed so the shards of glass wouldn’t do me in. A very arrogant sordid bunch.
A silent movie in my dreams. I am not sure what part I played? The straight laced young woman? Or the impetuous young man. But I can tell you that it was something along the lines of two lovers that wanted to escape. In the end though, I played the young man that wanted to steal away the woman. And he ended up he went to the kitchen to find her. And the father was blocking their progress with her just around the corner. And you could see him through the shelves at the edge of the entrance to the kitchen. And he saw me. And the father saw me. And the father was my father. The father that had died. And she went to run off but she said good by to him. And I think that was important to her that she could say goodbye to him so he knew that she loved him. But that she was going to go off with the man that she loved. At least, that was the end of it. A very classic situation.
“For the next hour we can fuck!” “For the next hour . . .” , she said, “We can fuck.” There was something about Albert and Lucy Parsons. An area of town that was not only haunted but historical. So, I met her at the theater. Or rather should I say, I found her in the theater where she said she would be. And she stalled a bit. And we went backstage initially on stage and then backstage. We ended up instead at the old two-story house. The neighborhood was dark. It was night. There was all sorts of rocks where there were sidewalks. They were doing some kind of repairs. But it was insanely destroyed. She hesitated. Coming up with all sorts of excuses. I knew that I was dealing with someone, or something that had been alive once but now was somewhat congealed in a regular human body again. Two big dogs went running across the street. They walked along as we had nearly consummated her boast. I thought for a second that they were going to attack. But they just bounded by. And all of a sudden I was with someone again.
I met a strange old lady. In some ways she was very ethereal. There was something very attractive about her. She seemingly was attractive to me. We were on the way coincidentally to the theater. For some reason she said out of nowhere, “I have some place to go in an hour.” “Until then we can go somewhere and you can have me.” And I followed her. But she didn’t make it easy. She went to an old theater and sat in the audience. And I was torn between the audience and the stage. Somehow, I came out on stage and performed a bit before I dragged her away. We went to our house which was an old two-story affair in the dark somewhere in an old neighborhood. And there, seemingly, we consummated the offer.
Though I might be re-imagining the story? What if the theater was the old Iroquois? And Eddie Foy was on stage? And it had burned down and she was one of the ones carried out who had never had a life. And as a disembodied spirit she wandered about looking for a suitor for the evening. Someone to bring her the life and the love she never had. That’s a story too. For my part, we did go to her house even though it was for a very short time. And make love. And have coitus in her bed. But it was fleeting as if equally almost an opportunity missed as it was assumed. There was at some point a liaison with someone on the next street. Across the street who had studied history of legends and ghosts one convinced that he knew all about the story. He said it happened a long time ago. But the neighborhood didn’t want this resurrected and didn’t like him. And there was much to dissuade him from continuing on with his quest. Save for myself he might make more money were he to fend off. He wouldn’t be remembered unless he continued on. And in that dark neighborhood I seemed to convince him to continue and go back and find the secret of who this entity was.
I’m in France in Paris. Some part of the town. Who knows? A large building, mixed use. It used to be a school. Part of it used to be a factory. All abandoned now. Except for the first floor with stores and restaurants and so forth. I’m with someone else. We went there to play journalist. We go through the place but we run into some really bad types. Involved with really bad bad things. Drug dealers. We know, we don’t want to run into them direct. So we beat a retreat through a maze of rooms. All of them old dusty original furniture’d and so forth. We managed to stay ahead of them but just barely. We know they’re looking for us. They must have heard us. Somebody must have said something. So, we’re now confused. We’re afraid if we get lost we’ll get cornered. Several times we run into blind alleys. Open up doors that are dead ends or closets. After retracing steps wondering how far behind us they are? I find a knife. A gray galvanized looking thing. It is actual painted gray with one edge. Not much? We run down a hallway into the school area. Open a couple doors. Dead ends. Finally, I find the one door that we came through. Or we think we did? It turns out to be a door into a restaurant. I palm the knife against my side under my arm pressing it hard so that no one can see it. And we walk through looking like we are a couple of ‘clocher’s‘. A couple bums. Into the street escaping with the knowledge now that we should not get into things over our heads.
Lincoln Park. “Oh yeah!” A review of sorts. A view of someone I was dating. A Jewish girl. A review that was not favorable. A view that had me panning her as I was walking down Clark turning on Lincoln. I can hear crying in the doorway somewhere. I’m doing my little personal review and find myself actually picking up from myself going to someone equally problematic. I end up I walk seemingly in place in the night and it’s not fun. So I end up finally reaching going around the corner. Escaping one and realizing that I am walking directly the other way. I’m walking back into the same thing! My luck with women is terrible. I have no temperament for them. I am too linear and not set up emotionally to handle them.