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Dreamer

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Dreamer

Article

Dreamer is a recurring venue in the Collected Agenda archive, appearing 1 times across 1 issues between February 10, 2025 and February 10, 2025. The archive places it in contexts such as “You walk to get coffee. This spot is called Dreamer, Ruby says”. It most often appears alongside 131 Chrystie St, Ahmed, Alamo Drafthouse Cinema.

Metadata

  • Category: Venues
  • Mention count: 1
  • Issue count: 1
  • First seen: February 10, 2025
  • Last seen: February 10, 2025

Appears In

Source Context

Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.

February Dining.
February 10, 2025 · Original source
WHAT I DID Monday, February 3 I think I will spend some nights alone in the apartment, actually, this week. I think I will give myself some peace, then. Yes, this is good, this is what you should do. And I will call David who will be in Paris, and I will see my friends and I will go to school, I will walk across the Williamsburg Bridge by myself in the mornings, I will run sometimes, and write sometimes, and I will be all alone but I will have my friends to see, David to call, and on the weekend there will be my family, and it will all reset me in a way that is pure and nice and I am craving. Ok, tomorrow, then. So, today, then, you begin the morning with the collecting of the self. You have been doing everything one should do, yes - water, lemon, ginger, avocado, salmon, the apartment is messy but not too bad, you are mostly on time, liquor sometimes in excess but you are not a child anymore, not mostly, mostly it's ok. You stay up late, but this is not too bad. You have never spent the night in a house alone before, never, not even once, in a hotel a few times but never in a place that you must enter, unlock, remember to lock again behind you. I'm terrified of many things, really. You might not know this meeting me but then, I give away a lot. I said I had no object permanence. I said this for a while, but I stopped meaning it around April. I stopped saying it around then, too. I have so much object permanence these days. You know this, because you notice how one detail is not as you remember it, and suddenly all you want is for everything, everything, everything to be restored. There was a wonderful dinner last night. The best in a while, really. We returned to The Knickerbocker, and you wonder, then, why you ever go anywhere else - the quiet dark wood dining room, not quite cavernous but certainly not small, the liquor on the grand piano, that huge t-bone steak, enough to serve a family, creamed spinach, french fries with the sauce from the meat au poivre, jazz on Sundays, tea, coffee, no martinis tonight but those are excellent too. Why did we ever go out for small plates? It is so much more special here. Raining, outside. The rain turns to snow. Yellow cab home. It feels nice, yes, to leave things on terms like these. Tuesday, February 4 Silver light in the morning. Ruby say’s - “it’s spring outside,” and I haven’t been waiting for things to melt, but I am not too sad now that this defrosting has started. I am really not too sad today. You wake up, you see silver light, you see curtains, the apartment felt eerie and so you walked over here, there are friends to call, you did not sleep too well but the paralysis has stopped and even this, the drama of it all, the sleep paralysis has stopped, and so this dread of isolation becomes absurd. Bright morning. You walk to get coffee. This spot is called Dreamer, Ruby says. You walk the Williamsburg Bridge. It's warmer this time, busier this time. David calls - there is mayhem in Paris, but he will be ok. Green tea. Lemon loaf. Protein bar. You have stopped being cruel, now you must stop eating sugar. I am very tired today. I don’t mean it to sound all like I’m disassociated. I was, for a moment. I came back down to Earth. I called my dad after Doomers last week. “This is what I'm afraid of,” I said. Then, I told him what I was afraid of. “There's a great show called The Twilight Zone,” my dad said. “I know,” I said. “In The Twilight Zone, there is an episode with a preserved floating brain,” my dad said. “And you watch this disembodied consciousness preserved and stuck forever, and you think, well this is the worst thing imaginable.” “Yes,”I said. “This is what I am afraid of.” It is less the AI of it all being preserved forever in the absence of animal beings that is so scary, I think. More so, it’s this merging with humanity, this always merging merging merging with humanity, and then you are stuck, and then the possibilities become limitless. Wednesday, February 5 Deep familiarity is many different things at many different moments, I am told today. I kind of disagree. I think there is a core of things. Actually, I really disagree. I really think that there is a core of things. New album by Desire today. New dress on my doorstep. I wake up in an apartment that is briefly all mine. Where were you a year ago today, my friends were asking at dinner yesterday. It's a reasonably interesting thing to consider. I like it best when a year ago feels very distant. Me - I was at KGB Bar. A stranger took the photo. I look very morose. In my memory I was very nervous, and also, I was very pleased. On a walk, trying to write, trying to pour out the sludge, seeking clarity - "I do not feel like writing a whole fucking retrospective every time I try to journal," I write. I am sorry all my details seem crude today. Rules for solitude are - pace in circles, pace on the treadmill, do not be combative in conversation with strangers, do not eavesdrop, sometimes you will not like what you hear. They are talking about murder suicide at pilates, the girl at pilates owned an animal shelter and her star employee murder suicided himself and his girlfriend. You know that cute blonde blogger, she is saying. She was the girlfriend. The guy seemed nice. You never know. Rules for solitude are do not listen to these things, stop listening to these things, you’re going to freak out if you keep on listening to these things. Later, I'm only here to pick up a phone charger, but there's a whole wall of people reading poems about bitter cynicism in this conference room. I apologize for my bitter cynicism, the woman reading is saying, and I hate being in these buildings after dark, I hate the corporate flair to these things. Powerade Zero on the desks. I would like to go lurk in a Chinatown basement. I would like to write an Alt Lit Novel. I would like to be very, very rude. "Would you like to read a list of people who have been censored," a woman at this strange event asks me. "Have you seen a phone charger?" I ask the women. "Now is not the time to be nihilistic," Madelyn’s friend told her yesterday, and I’m not nihilistic, and I'm sorry, and I'm really sorry, and I really really really need to leave now. Thursday, February 6 Ice and snow over my glass house this morning. I heard the sharp rain in the night. I am not surprised it froze over. I am enjoying waking up with - nowhere to go, no one to see. I wouldn't enjoy it for long, but it’s not too bad for now. Walking through this empty apartment and the only sound is me, and then ice falling off the roof overhead. It’s not a big deal, really, and I'm acting a little delusional and insane about the weight of it all, but it's just that I have never done this before - woken up in a building with no one to greet me. And I have tucked my phone far away so that the solitude can feel more complete. And I have cleaned the apartment, top to bottom. I've wrapped an old scarf all around my face and then I've gone for a walk - no matter that the streets are frozen. I do like the ice. I'm sorry. I do. I hope it lasts. The night is swirling and nice. I forgot to take note. Friday, February 7 My parents are here, and I am glowing with the happiness of it. Start the day slowly. I’ve become a bit reckless. I’ll do the dishes. I’ll take out the trash. Intrinsically sloppy, and I wish I wasn’t. When left to my own devices, a descent into chaos is not entirely inevitable. WHAT YOU SHOULD DO Monday, February 10 From 7pm - 9pm at Virginia’s — Date Time thinks it’s not too late to find a valentine. The three girls behind a new Feed Me featured speed dating endeavor present their second event, featuring two 45 min rounds of mingling. - “Everyone meets everyone, so get ready to meet a lover, a friend, or perhaps an enemy.” $5 ticket required for entry (proceeds to Direct Relief in LA), and 1 drink minimum to date.
Inline links: The Knickerbocker, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!jT0J!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa10ab1b7-6b48-4c06-bc6b-0fb7469a4168_1179x652.jpeg, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!P3e1!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb447089e-a6d6-4835-9402-c87fbc6be315_1200x1600.jpeg, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!uWjI!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd9c23aa1-399d-4139-beee-26b409d77757_909x608.jpeg, Virginia’s, Date Time, Feed Me featured

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