encounter in the cell (sept 2020)

I enter into a large building which has something to do with Japan and something to do with music. It resemebles a large school or a prison complex with hallways, multiple floors. We are on the ground floor and I am taken into a room off the main hall.

Human constructs like buildings relate to the mind. Both studying Japanese and making music have been ways I have succeeded in using my mind. Places where I have used mastery to bolster my self-esteem. Schools and prisons are both heirachical, full of rules and the threat of punishment. We might imagine this as a complex mental landscape with its stern prison guards (negative self-talk/controling super-ego), repressed inmates stripped of freedom (strict self-control/repression of free parts), adherance to rules and fear of punishments. The prison protects the general public (psyche) from the repressed prisoner. I am invited to traverse the bars, invited into a space outside of protection.

I am taken to a room where a homeless-looking Japanese man with scraggly long hair and rags on is laying on the floor. Intuiting that he is a prisoner here, I begin to feel very sorry for him as I attempt speak in Japanese. He hardly responds. I know that I am supposed to stay with him. I wonder if I am to teach him music, to offer him some psychological help, or I have been sentenced and he is my prison-mate. I have a feeling of superiority, as though I do not belong here and I am not like this man who I am afraid of and disgusted by.

The superior-feeling dream ego meets another part of the pysche which is looked down upon with disgust, disidentified with and imprisoned. I don't know how to relate to this othered man although I have some ability to speak his language and make an attempt, it falls on deaf ears. The repressed, imprisoned, wild, deprived part ignores my attempts at connection.

I put down some thin bedding on the floor and lie down. I must be tired. A voice suddely comes through on a tannoy system saying: "for the prevention of the use of supersonic pain devices by [Japanese guy's name], he will be restrained with a straightjacket." I'm alarmed. My suspicions of him being dangerous are confirmed and, as if to urge his mercy, I say "daijoubu? Gomen ne" in an earnest tone ("are you okay? I'm sorry this is happening"). I was frightened of him and I didn't know if it was getting through or could ever convince him that I'm good and deserve mercy. I had a feeling that the more I try to appeal to him, the more he will see me as weak and punish me.

A disconnected protector/guardian communicates through a distant technology. Externally, this may be ineffectual parents or internally: inner parental/caretaking voice which has become detached and maybe doesn't dare to be in the presence of the more deprived part. A superego that is ineffectual in communication/law-making with the depraved id. The dream ego is abanadoned by the super-ego in its encounter with this perverse, aggressive, seemingly irrational being. The super-ego has spoken, this part is dangerous, it cannot be appealled to, it must be restrained even further.

He enters my physical space on the floor, putting one leg onto my bedding and I pull it away from him. I sense he is depraved and desperate and maybe he is homosexual and I don't want him to touch me. I pull the bedding away from him. As I wait, I'm expecting guards to come and put the straightjacket on him. There is a long, silent, anxious pause. In the meantime I notice that there is a straightjacket on the floor in the corner of the room and the man gets up and half puts it on. However, he is only wearing it loosely. It's just for show. He knows the guards are so ineffectual that he can get away with looking as though he is wearing it. Perhaps the whole restraining system is all a formality to tick boxes but neither guard nor prisoner care as long as it looks as though he's doing it. This doesn't really reassure me but as I get more and more tired lying on the floor, I figure that it's good enough and sleep takes over me.

The imprisonned part attempts to merge with me/make love with me. My reaction belies a fear of penetration: accepting that part inside myself, marrying my aggression/perversion with my ego. In the real world, might these images be ripples of a memory of sexual assault? I hope for someone to come and save me from this impending doom but I seem to have an exhausted, defeated affect. Despite the terrifying premise of the supersonic pain device and the guards seemingly not coming, I allow myself to sleep, accepting the half-worn straightjacket as a prevention enough. The dream ego gives up, doesn't want to think about it anymore, no one will help me but it'll probably be alright. This rest leaves me vulnerable, my sense of safety is misplaced.

I am suddenly awoken in the cell with an extremely loud buzzing. It feels like I'm being drilled right into my bones, so loud that I'm shaking and my bones are rattling. It is a horrible sensation. I feel as though I experience this torturous body-shock in real life and my body has chills, I am sweating as I awake later in real life. I try to say something or shout or fight but I can't get the words out. With great effort, I strain to turn my head and can finally see that he is using this 'supersonic pain device', drilling it into my arsehole which is causing me this awful pain. I am simultaneously able to look out the small windows of our cell to other people who look but don't do anything to help me. In general there is some connection to Japan. I have a feeling it's a Japanese music production thing (connection to 'Eastern Margins' event in London), Dale might be there. A woman goes past I try to get her attention but she just peers in to look at me and walks on by. I'm shocked by the injustice of being horrifically tortured with everyone else apathetic around me merely walking past.

Awakening within dream seems to say, please pay attention to this - forcedly ripped out of your slumber/naivity, my misplaced sense of safety. A warning: if you are to reject merging/making love with your repressed aggression and turn away from it, it will come back and with avengence to torture the self. It's curious that I do not stay alert to the danger but, deflated, my defenses are dropped and the aggressive part takes the opportunity to penetrate deeply with a pain device which nearly shatters my entire being. Rattling, defeaning, overwhelming, crippling. Again, there's a half-hearted attempt to protect the dream ego as an aloof woman walks past, unwilling to help. The protective functions of the inner world are passive, pessimistic and abandoning. Is there some sense to which I am neglecting and abandoning taking care of myself? I have a critical super-ego whos authority, when it comes to making "good decisions", is quite weak.

At the same time I kind of jump out of this reality and am zapped into a lecture theatre where a professor is talking about how we can't forget about the horrors of atrocaties like the holocaust and we can't stand by and be passive. It is linked to my personal feeling of complete injustice and tortorous pain. I am shocked by how the pain felt really real as I woke up and my body is still reeling and recovering from it. This was truly frightening and I was a bit creeped out. Didn't want to go back to sleep for fear of returning to the cell.

personal suffering and injustice links to universal and I am snapped out of an apolitical apathy, at this moment I was truly burning with injustice and disbelief. But this professor is "too late" - where was this benevolent carer when the suffering was happening? That role was lazy and half-heartedly performing their protective duty as neglectful guards. The caring super-ego-type figure in this final scene is still detatched, taking a passionate yet acamademic and retrospective stance.