dream:

(since I am not relishing the idea of going back to sleep) I am walking in a city, kinda resembles the area around the UN in NYC, but as it is on Sunday afternoons--empty, or very nearly so; like 5th Ave at two in the morning on a week night, but without beauty. It feels like the first couple days in Brooklyn--lost. (I rememeber I couldn't even get breakfast the first morning, the cafeteria didn't open until that afternoon cause I'd arrived the night before offical check-in. I kept getting lost on campus, so I figured I'd best not leave by myself yet, gave that up in 24 hours...) ...Any way wandering around this empty city area... I'm lost and I know it, I'm looking for something, a street name, a building number, a sign, something. I find this basement resterant. No one is really paying attention to me so I slide in even though I'm not a customer and have no intention of being one; though I'm hungery I'm also dead broke. In the back of the resterant theres a door way, if their weren't two other doorways marked as bathrooms you'd probably guess it was that. I go through the door way. Through the doorway is a bedroom, like a dorm room, very utilitarial, metal bed frames that sag in the middle, dingy white sheets, florescent lights, gray cement walls and floors, but it also has random personal effeminate touches: a red paper lantern hanging from the corner of a flourescent light fixture, a pink and red throw blanket at the foot of one bed, on the other a green and blue one. Two desks, one messier than the other, more personal items. Tammy is casually sitting on the bed with the pink & red throw. On the other bed is a girl I don't recognize. When I come in Tammy acts as if she's been expecting me and intoduces me to her roommate. At some point I turn my back on the roommate for a moment and when I look back to her she is a different girl entirely. I don't comment because I have the distinct impression that to do so would seem rude. I find myself back on the street. Time has passed, could be hours or days, but I'm still hungery, but I have a crumpled dollar, maybe two. I buy an egg from a dimmly lit groccery shop, the proprieter is distinctly elderly Russian. I carry the egg back to Tammy's. I don't have anywhere else to go. I'm holding the egg very carefully, but as I walk the egg starts to crack and the yolk starts leaking out in my fingers. I started walking faster, nearly running, I know I need this food. Going through the resterant, there is a boy eating with his parents. I can't figure out why he stands out for a moment, but I realize it is because he notices me while everyone else seem to not see me. He wants to ask who I am an where I'm going and what I'm carrying, I know this. I duck into the door in the back before he can excuse himself from his table. Through the doorway the room has changed, still cement walls and floors, but it's a bathroom not a bedroom. Six toilets, three on each wall on either side of the door way, no stalls, just open, no privacy. It hasn't been cleaned in a long time and you can smell it. Two or three of the toilets are plugged and backed up. The smell and view of the room makes me need to vomit. I try to vomit into one of the toilets but it sticks in my mouth as if to suffocate me. I'm still trying desperately to keep the rest of the egg yolk from leaking out on to the floor. I'm really afraid of someone coming in, if they do I know there will be real trouble. I know they will hurt me, badly, really badly. At this point the phone rang and woke me, and I was glad.