dream journal

dreamed I was in a hospital

passing a doctor's office, with a television screen filled with pornography

sitting down at a table with an old acquaintance, now a missionary in southeast asia.

late

someone is about to die. they are killing him, some kind of injection

running

dream-running so slowly, trying to use hands, arms to go faster. orangoutang like.

in the room, my father sits in a chair

i am roaring at the nurse, banging things into the ground

but he is held there by his own wish to die

"i wanted to take photographs in palm springs" (but could not?)

tears, very suddenly

and then i'm awake

Father: Nothing I've ever done was very good, was it?
Daughter: Daddy, it was all good, all of it.

F: You don't have to lie to me. It's worse if you really believe it -- the praise of an undiscriminating fool.
D (hurt, silent).

F: If it really was good, why couldn't anyone see it?
D: You never put it where anyone could see it.

F: It was never any good.
D: It could have been.
F: But I could never get past it, the fear. And in the end, the only thing to fear, really... was the end. It was coming all along.