Morning of February 22, 2014. Saturday.
This is a more positive variant on the recurring King Street dreams (which I have had off and on for over twenty years) where I often owe a lot of back rent and am wandering about at different times through a former or present room. There have been many variations.
I end up looking around in the south-most apartment on the east side of the big boarding house. It does not seem to be the place I had lived at recently (and I never had that particular apartment in real life). There is not that much activity or movement from other potential tenants. Later on, there is a first-time (I think) variation in this type of dream. The landlady comes up and says I can have that particular room and I will actually be paid to live there. This seems a bit unusual, but I guess that is how it will then be (in the dream). I still believe that I should be paying her, though.
Apparently, I had actually been living in the middle room (as I had once in real life) on the east side of the building, before wandering off and living elsewhere (unknown) or being homeless for six months or less, I think. Someone else, however, had been living there for a few weeks though my belongings were all still in the room exactly as I had left them.
My belongings, other than a few clothes, turn out to be a large number of mostly hardcover science fiction books (including Isaac Asimov’s “Foundation”) and 33 rpm record albums, mostly in larger cardboard boxes. As I move them to my new living location, a couple others help, and the other tenant (about nineteen and likely a local university student) seems somewhat relieved that he has more space for his own possessions.
Then comes the somewhat disjointed and more unusual part of the dream. For some reason, I put on the video of Rick Springfield’s "Speak to the Sky" (a song I played often in my youth - yet did not - actively, anyway - know he was Australian and from Sydney). This is not like the one I actually have.
It is not any real video, though, and it does not even look like him. He plays an acoustic guitar (with a large mic and amp, I think) in front of a small audience on a mostly featureless and inconsequential stage. There is a strong focus on some sort of eerie buzzing effect on one of the guitar strings every two measures or so - probably the low E string. He supposedly makes this sound by placing a stick just close enough to the string to cause the additional sound each time. I suppose I should be wondering how he is able to play the guitar with both hands and hold the stick at the same time. I do not question this obvious impossibility, though. At times, it looks like an ordinary board from the outer wall of a wooden house.
(In afterthought, this may be some sort of play on George Harrison’s "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and possibly also with the saying "Speak softly and carry a big stick"). From there, not much happens other than a bit of idle conversation and look around at my supposed large record collection, spread out over about seven or more boxes as well as the same for the books. “Speak to the Sky” has appeared (or rather played) in my dreams more than other songs, I would say.