Dream Journal

Context: We are in York, England.

The Dark Tower is very consistent. It’s quite run-down and somewhat two-dimensional. It’s very tall with one basic hallway spiraling up to the height of the building with doors on either side. There’s always a lot of movement, people going up and down. There’s yellow on the vertical parts of steps. The rooms are filled with endless junk, like a basement bargain store, but it’s not shopping, either. Outside are vast lands, some snowy. . . . I usually see it from high above, as if flying in. And skiing! Why does it remind me of skiing? I’m so close to remembering! Arg! Or like an old radio station. What am I doing there, so active? It’s never a scary place, just dingy and ugly, and there are lots of people, too.