I wonder if Phoebe would tell me that the love scenes with her character's love interest were easier because she would imagine those actors were actually me. That is probably why I can't watch her movies. I cannot consciously remember the Phoebe I know and love. That actress in the movies is that woman I know and love but there is so much more to her that you don't know by watching the movies. And then, eventually, I grew to dislike seeing her look at those other actors the way she looked at me even though I knew she was only acting in those movies. Not sure if I ever told her that. Probably because it was really just a minor annoyance that I was willing to ignore because I wanted her to have those roles and it was all part, actually, of something I was creating. It is ironic now, because I can only feel the emotion....something. Something blocks me from consciously remembering her but how can I forget her?
I would never forget her. That is why I encoded so many details about her into my artificial and symbolic memory.
What if.....I am used to seeing her photos. Something.........some flash of inspiration that just went away. I have forgotten how familiar she is to me. I have - forgotten - how - familiar - she is to me. I cannot articulate just how frustratingly profound is that notion. I cannot consciously remember how familiar photos of her are to me. I have seen her around me for almost all of my life. I want to say that seeing her is routine, but that's not the word I want. That is a word I would use because I can't consciously remember her. And I know that at some point soon, something is just going to click and I will consciously remember her. It has happened with so much other stuff that I have no doubt it will happen. I just don't know how it happens. I feel as though I actually have a great deal of free will to all this. I also know for certain these pirates, such as George W. Bush, should not have been stealing from me. That is a risky endeavor and that will be going to prison for their criminal activity.
This journal entry was over a year before I started to think consciously about Phoebe. The part about the unfamililar woman is obviously about Phoebe, my wife. I couldn't consciously remember her after I woke up because then I would have started consciously recognizing back then and I don't know what has been blocking her from conscious awareness. I am quite certain I have dreamed of her often over the years. I don't know why the part about wearing something with holes in it, though. I can't remember what that means. It could be something similar to that scene in the 1982 movie "An Officer And A Gentleman" where "Paula" tells them something about how something will grow out an inch and then when "Zack" sees her the next time, he gestures to indicate that his hair indeed had grown out over an inch since he last saw her.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Re: Sleep journal 4/6/06
Details about my recent sleep are very fuzzy today. Can't remember for sure when I woke up. 3 am maybe. Or maybe shortly after midnight, can't really remember as I usually can. Remember dreaming something about driving my Jeep. Then I returned to it where it was parked in a parking lot after I was traveling through some passageways, hallways in a transit facility maybe. The only part I remember clearly is where a woman, I assume was my imaginary girlfriend asked me out for drinks or something. I told her we needed to keep it really casual though because all I had to wear was sweatpants. Kind of the downside to dating a homeless person I reflect now as I write this. She told me she would wear something with holes in it. I hope that was her in my dream, although the woman in the dream seemed to be someone unfamilar though. But I have noticed that happening with other people I know. They are represented, somehow, by a different person, but I think of them as someone specific. I feel like that is part of the manipulation. I have noticed something similar in real dreams, but I don't think it is the same here. I think they are disquising themselves in my dream for some reason. Anyway, if it really was her, she actually doesn't have to worry about dressing down if we were to go out. Of course, if I have my way, it would be a moot point because why would I want to go out with her when I am in such an ugly situation? At the minimum, I would want to be back to work so that I have regained some independence. And hey, next time you are in my dreams, dear imaginary girlfriend, how about wearing a bikini? Red would be good, or yellow maybe. That would be sweet!
None of this really matters. We're just doing this so we can listen to the people spying on me to hear them conspire. They didn't know we were listening. My role is just to generate chatter among the conspirators. blah blah blah A conspiracy starts with two people.
