A woman who's about twenty writes a screenplay about a man from the future. She wrote two of her friends into the story for fun. I find them both sexy: a tallish dark-haired girl, and a shorter dark-blonde woman in an orange minidress. In the script they're from the future too--or at least they act like it--weird futurian customs!

It's made into a movie, and I'm trapped inside it. A long scene, where the four of us shyly establish friendships, wonder who likes whom, deal with envy and insecurity. Like high school as it should have been but wasn't for me. We're very open about our feelings though, little posturing, not trying to be cool--more relaxed than present-day Americans. But then the Man from the Future and the author and her girl friends casually move into an area where I panic and drop out: sex. For in the future, AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases have been completely eliminated, so sex is an utterly innocent, casual pleasure. Futurians fuck for fun, and just to express casual affection. And I can't do it. Must be love, must be deep, must be this and that... I judge them as shallow, then catch that this is just my mom talking! They're not shallow; they're capable of deep love; they're just free of compulsory links between sex and love--links forged by plague.

They all play together, at first not noticing I've suddenly been left out. When they do, they naturally assume I'm just not attracted to them! Temporal misunderstanding works both ways...

I'm startled that the writer casually shows her friends doing this--won't it have repercussions for her friends outside the movie, guys thinking they casually have unsafe sex, here in plague times? Two risks: unwanted come-ons from the reckless who want easy sleazy girls, and rejections from the cautious and responsible who think they're like this in real life! Yet here they are, sexy and reckless, acting themselves in their friend's movie. They don't seem to care.

The sex scene where I feel left out/behind takes place in a large tube with a bed inside: a medical imaging chamber? A dive decompression chamber? Door's open though, so I think it's a magnetic resonance chamber.

A couple of men come by and want to run tests on the Man from the Future, and he takes this as just another flirtation. He like most futurians is bi or pansexual. Though straight, they play along with amiably. Close-up as a mechanical claw/grip grabs his ankle and pulls him from the tube. Not sure if it's a device or if one of the men is an android with a padded metal grip. The Man from the Future starts giggling--he interprets this as light bondage!

They give him a light anesthetic and he falls asleep. Quickly do their tests and return him to the tube and his lovers, where he rewakes unfazed:

"Wow! I wonder what I drank with those guys! I don't remember a thing!"

Bounce-back innocence. I wish they bottled it.

NOTES ON WAKING UP

• Bed in medical imaging chamber = today I did hypnotherapy on a couch...
• Man from the future = me visiting my own deep, barbaric past, in trance!
• Flinching when sex came up = I avoided going deeper in trance because I was afraid to mess with something sexual lurking there.
• Undressed girls in public bedlike place, metal clamps = I also went to the gym today. Cute women straining and flexing on the weight machines...
• ADVICE/ACTION: Sexual caution is wise in the AIDS era, but forcing myself to feel I must love and forever serve anyone I fuck is another thing. To be specific, my mother's thing.

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