(01/19/98)["Falling in love with a drag queen"]  I am very sad. I feel alone and unloved. I am in some tunnel of cement and curved lines. A naked black man is there and he is sympathetic to my feelings. He walks ahead of me trying to coax me into following him to see a friend who can supportively counsel me. I think there is an underground river to the left that I was sitting next to. I slowly follow him. He tries to jump up a cement jut where the tunnel branches into two. He slips and falls on his butt. He laughs at his antics. He's trying to cheer me up. I feel sad and lonely. Now he leads me to a friend. Sparky. She says she'd like to hear what's troubling me. Another woman is there who was going to tell her troubles but she says it's OK for me to go ahead first. She'll learn from my situation too. I suddenly decide to not talk and let the woman go first. I wonder why I did this, because it would be right and a good thing for me to talk. But I hold myself in. The black man is now dressed as a drag queen. He cavorts around in a flashy way. I am now trying to adjust my clothes. I have a skirt that rides up into my butt crack and a see through blouse so it is obvious. I keep trying to adjust it, but it reverts back as soon as I let go of it. This feels embarrassing. I can't walk around looking like this. So I try to put a pair of jeans on.  I stand up and walk over to the black drag queen and straddle his lap. I say I don't know what I'm supposed to be a man inside and a woman outside, or a woman outside and a man inside. I feel confused. Then I say to him. What would happen if I loved a drag queen? Would I have to just wait until he's ready?