Today I took a nap and dreamt I was driving to the gym. Wick took me home. I asked for a ride but that was surely strange because my car was there and I didn't need one. I had driven it and it was working. He drove the same car as mine. PJ was in the car. PJ's face changed to look like Lom's face and it was so strange because I commented on how tall he was and laughed and felt sad and looked forlornly out the window. Wick dropped PJ off first.
I didn't actually have him drop me off at my real apartments because I was too ashamed of it. I faked it and expected him to wait for me, to see if I had gone inside the darker, more gray, but immimently more respectable apartment complex, but he had gone, quietly. I walked the few blocks back to my apartment, which was sunny and bright with people playing basketball. Young black men, young hispanic and Asian women were also playing and there were all sorts of balls around, the kind cihldren kick around, with stars and colors all over. I tried to kick one towards the open court, but the women protested and said they weren't playing with them. I apologized, because by that time I'd rolled 3 of the balls over. I quickly went up the steps and thought to myself how fortunate it was that Wick had not offered a kiss and that we had not ended up sleeping together. I was very happy and proud I had made the right decision. Now all I had to do was find a way to get my car back.
This dream was strangely related to my waking life (not because these events happened at all or are true in any form, but because I know what triggered these events, how they came to be implanted in my brain) except we don't have a large basketball court in front of the apartments. It made me feel good about many decisions I made.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Charon carry me home
I dreamt a tale the other night. I was attending a wedding and I tried to do something surreptitiously and interrupted and all eyes were on me. I walked out with my head held high and the dream faded.
I was a boy and had woken up with a friend in what appeared to be Victorian sewers. There was a canal with dirty green water flowing by me. The ceilings in the place were daunting, large and all-encompassing. My friend knelt down without a word and began tying together comforters and floated comfortably into the green-grey water without getting wet. I frantically tried to weave together the remaining blankets, but to no avail.
How do I do it? I called after him in panic, wanting to hear the answer before he rounded the stone bend.
You have to find redemption. It won't stay afloat until you do, he called back to me. Within moments, he had drifted from my sight. I wasn't sure redemption for what.
I took stock of my surroundings and began to have a horrible feeling about it all. I knew I couldn't stay here long, but the reason I had wanted to float down the canal was because there were all these built-in places on the sides of the canal, sticking out at odd angles. And I knew that walking through there (places which I sensed would be dark) would be far more horrible than what awaited me in the canal.
Without thinking, I began speaking aloud, asking for guidance. Where am I? I remembered asking. A disembodied voice answered You know where you are and what you have to do. I think I did know where I was and had a vague idea about what I had to do.
Please let me tell you how I came to be here. Perhaps you will understand when you hear. The voice was silent, but I knew it was listening.
The scenery changed as I reminisced. The dream changed to become sepia and Victorian. I was a happy child and my parents loved me and made me work to develop a good work ethic. I was a newspaper delivery boy and enjoyed my job. My parents were merchants, with good business acumen. I remember once my parents took me to see the first movie ever made and they let me pay for my own ticket. I was thrilled, so proud. This period was the happiest time of my life.
The family business did too well however, and my parents began squabbling and fighting about money...things fell apart.
Here I stopped telling the story. The dream ended there. I think the canal was the River Styx modernized and the voice Hades. In the dream, everything was so clear to me.
I was a boy and had woken up with a friend in what appeared to be Victorian sewers. There was a canal with dirty green water flowing by me. The ceilings in the place were daunting, large and all-encompassing. My friend knelt down without a word and began tying together comforters and floated comfortably into the green-grey water without getting wet. I frantically tried to weave together the remaining blankets, but to no avail.
How do I do it? I called after him in panic, wanting to hear the answer before he rounded the stone bend.
You have to find redemption. It won't stay afloat until you do, he called back to me. Within moments, he had drifted from my sight. I wasn't sure redemption for what.
I took stock of my surroundings and began to have a horrible feeling about it all. I knew I couldn't stay here long, but the reason I had wanted to float down the canal was because there were all these built-in places on the sides of the canal, sticking out at odd angles. And I knew that walking through there (places which I sensed would be dark) would be far more horrible than what awaited me in the canal.
Without thinking, I began speaking aloud, asking for guidance. Where am I? I remembered asking. A disembodied voice answered You know where you are and what you have to do. I think I did know where I was and had a vague idea about what I had to do.
Please let me tell you how I came to be here. Perhaps you will understand when you hear. The voice was silent, but I knew it was listening.
The scenery changed as I reminisced. The dream changed to become sepia and Victorian. I was a happy child and my parents loved me and made me work to develop a good work ethic. I was a newspaper delivery boy and enjoyed my job. My parents were merchants, with good business acumen. I remember once my parents took me to see the first movie ever made and they let me pay for my own ticket. I was thrilled, so proud. This period was the happiest time of my life.
The family business did too well however, and my parents began squabbling and fighting about money...things fell apart.
Here I stopped telling the story. The dream ended there. I think the canal was the River Styx modernized and the voice Hades. In the dream, everything was so clear to me.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Boojums and children
A few nights ago, restlessly, I dreamt about a boojum coming after me and my sisters. It was a strange, dark, gray dream and it was floating around outside the windows of a run-down Victorian house. I was running so fast down a flight of rickety stairs I thought I was going to fall and die. But in the end, I think I did it. I woke up and it was too early so I fell back asleep, but I did not remember my dreams again and when the alarm rang, the bits from the first dream were already growing vague on me. I felt completely woolly-headed.
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