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When I was a child I experienced a few recurring dreams. All three were so different from each other that I wonder at times if I was inhaled to a past life.
One dream in particular was disturbing. There were a gaggle of children adorned in drab grey uniforms (myself included) being escorted from school to a bus. Clearly, we were going on a field trip. The bus takes us to a tall white building. Not a skyscraper, more the height of an old oak tree.
We were then corralled up a flight of stairs as we waited entry. Once the door opened, our adolescent assembly line continued climbing around the interior perimeter of the building. It was hot. Fires were burning white deep in the earth below us. Up ahead, I could see a square platform where a uniformed guard stood watch.
As I climbed closer I saw. The children were falling. Why are they falling, I asked myself? The heat was overwhelming and I tried to stand closer to the wall. As I watched these children cascade from the platform, I realized they had no expressions. No fear, no sound. The only cacophony was from the hungry fire we hovered.
That was when I got it. We climbed, we trailed and we fell. Emotionless, fearless death.
My only presence is in this tear. The welling of my eye an Ambassador for your despair. A dream. One dream. One dream can break, can fracture, can sever an eternity of searching. One dream. One moment turn heaven to hell. One day. One day the sun stayed away. Her fire burned out, tired. Forever the moon circled the earth, looking, searching, weeping. Weeping dust. Clouded dust. Clotted dust. Clouted dust simmering above the atmosphere making their bed, their home. She plays, she sings, her somber tune come home. Imploring. Come home.
Falling from the tree onto the porch, I sneak into the corner and hide. It is dark, mid-night, silky, foggy, thick summer night. The man. He is on his bicycle beside the house waiting for me. He starts to ride screaming “SAM! SAM! I KNOW IT’S YOU†crazy fucker. My shoes start chasing him down the lawn “I’M NOT SAM, YOU ARE CRAZY! GET OUT OF HERE YOU CRAZY BASTARD!†He cackles his maniacal taunt while spinning me into a conundrum. Who is chasing who, exactly? Around and around in circles I chase him in the street. This scruffy old bearded man, hair as a lions, dirty as a gassy tractor sitting in the dead heat of summer, trying to sweat but can’t because it’s metal. My shoes run straight for the house, running as hard as they can, my hands fumbling for the knob because dirty old tractor man is right at my heels. Success! I run through, hurrying to untie the shoes. This is difficult seeing as the floor is covered in shoes. 20 30 40 pair of shoes just in the foyer. All down the hall, in boxes, inside of each other, shoes breeding more shoes. They are fucking rabbits, piling up more quickly than I can untie my own. Hearing his huffing behind me I bolt for the stairs. Shuffling again, where the fuck are these shoes coming from? I try to kick mine off at my pursuer but they get lost in the more shoes that keep appearing on the stairs. Now hundreds of pairs of shoes trailing the path of my feet, they fly out from behind me shooting as an old tommy gun. My tracker ne’er deterred, still has his gleaming eye on his prize. At the top of the stairs I turn sharply, tripping, slipping, gripping onto the door jam, throwing myself onto my bed. The shoes stop breeding. Waiting. The man stands in the frame of the door, breathing heavily, playfully watching me. Ready. He disappears and again I fall from the tree onto the front porch.
it’s been a long time being here. So much of my time has been consumed with life issues and constraints, writing for other people and forgetting my passion – love. So much has happened over the last year I still have a hard time compartmentalizing it all. That is to say that my brain even functions that way. Being as open and free as someone like me is, I find it difficult not to share every aspect of my life.
To be honest, I don’t even know what to write anymore.
I had a dream last night. In this dream was the catalyst in my most recent break-up. For months I’ve felt anger, hatred for these two people but last week my house was emptied of the last of his belongings and a sense of relief came over the whole house. Well, in this dream the catalyst was very present. But I finally didn’t feel like stabbing her eyeballs out and setting the gaping holes on fire. yes, I am aware that reaction is NOT PEACEFUL. Just let me get over it.
I had a dream with the cats and my housemate. The cats were trying to get into my bedroom but I didn’t want them in here, the sandman had me by the knickers. But Dali was crying so Sean came downstairs to open my bedroom door. I didn’t say anything until Jou-Jou came in chasing a barely born mouse around my room. Normally live mice don’t send me for a loop but this one was hardly born and it ran straight across my chest! Needless to say I swung my door open and carefully tossed them both out. It was at that moment the baby mouse was bagged by Sean and thrown into my face.
“This is what I found Jou-Jou playing with!†he exclaimed.
“Yeah, in my bed while I was sleeping. Goodnight.â€
Gently closing my door, I cordially went back to sleep. Five minutes later he and a few of his buddies are in what should be the bathroom but ends up as a poker/scotch room in my dream (note: it is a large enough bathroom to serve as such). I do end up shouting at him from my hallway because he is being daftly inconsiderate re: the kitty situation. Yes, insert screaming banshee…..here. His mates are shaking their heads as if they’ve heard this before, in a manner that he has enraged another woman similarly and often in their presence.
Moving on, I decide to let bygones be just that and say my friendlies to the boys. Knowing they had been up all night playing poker, I start tidying up the place and offer to make some breakfast. As my arm reaches over to grasp a tumbler, Jamie Granek reaches up and tweeks my nipple! Incredulous!! I smacked him, shouted at him and stomped away.