December 5th was my birthday. In the wee hours of the 5th, while I was still asleep, I had a convoluted series of dreams that terminated sharply when I had a truly Jungian archetypical vision. what happend was this: in the dream, I dreampt I had woken up. this had the effect of convincing whatever parts of my concious mind were active at the time that I actually WAS awake. furthermore, in the dream, I had woken up in my own bedroom, and the proportions and accoutrements therein where pretty much as they are.
I don't remember the dreams I was having prior to this fake wakeup; I seem to recall being like, "ok, I'm awake now" and so I think even in the dream the typical post-sleep dream agnostia set right in. which is fucked when you think about it. but anyway. what happened was my friend Anthony walked in the door and started saying something (I can't recall what it was) but as soon as he had entered and walked past me I saw a huge cobra coiled on the floor, its hood flattened. I yelled to Anthony to watch out, but the snake lunged and bit his ankle. I pulled myself up on the bed and tried to back away but it bit me too. Then I panicked. I ran out of the apartment with both a cellfone and a cordless, trying to dial 911 but I kept fucking up, and I ended up dying on the street outside the building.
so yeah, whomever said you can't die in your dreams was full of shit, 'cause I did. needless to say this was not a pleasant way to start a birthday. the whole day pretty much ended up being one of those depressing birthdays, as opposed to one of those joyous happy ones, but c'est la vie, that kind of shit happens all the time. what I am concerned with at this point is the dream. it could mean any one or any combination of several things. back in the day, when I was but a young lad, I had dreams about dying and poisonous snakes all the time. I can recall a particularly frightening one wherein I was sitting on my bed with my family, watching tv (there was no actual tv in my room at the time, the existence of the tv was a subconcious confabulation) and we all couldn't move because we'd get immediately bitten by one of a bunch of snakes that were under my bed. after a few torturous dream-minutes of this, someone walked in the room (I'm not sure, in retrospect, why they weren't attacked by the snakes) and found a fucking cobra behind the door. I woke up from that one bawling (I was like eight or something like that) but there you go. I also, back then, had a dream where I fell onto the third rail and was electrocuted to death.
the reason I bring all this up is because I'm reading 'Man and his Symbols' by Jung, and he talks a whole lot of bullshit about taking dreams at face value in terms of archetypes, blah blah blah, none of it made any sense until he talked about how this ten-year-old girl with some sort of terminal disease had all these bizzare dreams about death like when she was supposed to be having archetypical preadolescent dreams about all that shit. so like, what the fuck is up with my shit? am I going to die? well yeah I'm gonna fucking die but hopefully not for a little while at least. shit. yeah.
anyway. on an unrelated tip, I think internet companies are fucked up. all of my experience in this fucking industry is that small internet businesses typically consist of a cadre of techie geeks in their early twenties, almost homogenously male, who are overseen by a group of slightly elder females in their late twenties to early thirties. obviously these are generalizations but anyway. this sort of setup makes for some fucked up psychosexual dynamics, let me tell you. it's like all the women project managers are all maternal and concescending and the kids who write the code and make the designs and all that are the recipients of semi-maternal coddling and scolding, as the situation warrants. it's fucking abnormal. it's like that here, it was like that at CTNY, and it seems to be like that at other places so like if I have this wrong you'll have to let me know but as far as I can ascertain it's like that and that's the way it is. yeah. there are other problems with the whole mess but I'm not going to get into that shit right now, cuz I'm fucking hungry as shit and there's an unopened, virginal bag of muscat grape gummies right next to me which as soon as I finish this entry I will mercilessly devour with the most purile intentions I can muster. yeah.