That recurring yet oddly evolving and seemingly pointless futurescape cluttered up my dream time again last night. The basic outline goes something like: I’m on a journey from Hollywood to somewhere due south (probably Long Beach, but I haven’t in any of the dreams made it there yet) using exclusively Metro trains and huffing it on foot. The most interesting portions of the dream, where it usually starts as well, take place in downtown L.A. and/or adjacent industrial areas.
The prior dream seemed to involve much running by me across vast expanses of concrete interrupted here and there by strange conversations with people who invariably would question my sanity for taking that particular leg of the journey on foot.
In last night’s dream, massive swaths of earth had been scooped out of downtown, revealing catacomb-like underground dwellings probably seven stories deep at least — mole people were suddenly transformed by virtue of habitat modification into cliff dwellers, albeit with a-still-underground address.
By the way… in this stupidscape, I have a travel companion who has yet to play any significant role. So he and I were moving through downtown à pied, on Figueroa St., I think it was, and suddenly (as happens in dreams I guess) we found ourselves at the edge of one of the aforementioned canyon-like potholes. Giant cranes directly overhead were moving bus-sized steel pipes about, occasionally dropping them onto the street with catastrophic ensuing destruction. No one seemed particularly concerned. An extreme degree of wanton negligence and tolerance for the same were in the air.
I pondering the precipice for a moment, but before I could do anything or even come up with a plan, from deep within the earth, bilious brackish water, swirling with garbage, debris, busted up construction materials, etc., rose to fill the pit and ceased its ascent just as the water reached the edge of the pit. Someone told me that I could walk across the water. I said, “Really?” And then I did it, scarcely sinking more than a few inches, as I went.
In last night’s version of the dream, if I may backtrack slightly, I found myself joining in with other voices (or maybe I had become the voice) questioning the sanity of anyone who would attempt to traverse this region without a car. But in the dream, in real time, I instantly sensed that I wasn’t being true to my character and moments later, in collusion with a well timed and perfectly fantastic circumstance, proved it.