It's been a while since I've posted a dream. Well, it's been a while since I've posted anything at all, but in particular a dream. Here goes...
Dream
April 23, 2013
I'm going to look at a new apartment in a high-rise, in the Lloyd District -- Something about this whole thing is forced, like moving is not my choice, but I don't fight it, I accept it as truth and reality -- I'm not angry or resentful, but matter of fact and clear -- This is what must happen -- A lady shows me the apartment, very small and already furnished -- I am struck by the oddness of the couch -- The main room is cramped, furniture ill-arrange, the colors drab and outdated -- I don't hate it, but I don't love it -- It doesn't occur to me that in moving somewhere else I will be LEAVING my current apartment -- All is well and dandy --
We walk around the grounds through the courtyard and around the block -- I am unfazed, indifferent -- I run errands, lost in thought about the new place, about the furniture and how I will change it to make it less awkward -- It starts to slowly dawn on me that I will be moving out of my current apartment, specifically that I will no longer have the art studio -- the new place is so cramped there is definitely not room for art making, let alone to house all of my belongings, now that I think of it -- I realize my exit from the freeway to get home is from I-84 and not I-5 -- something about this makes my heart sink into my feet, realizing I am, indeed, in a very different part of town -- I'll have to change my routes to get everywhere -- Slow, quiet panic --
It turns to nighttime, overwhelmed with sadness and confusion -- Why am I leaving my apartment? Does anybody else know? How could I have agreed to such a strange and awful venture? -- I visit the new building after the sun goes down -- Hallways filled with scarcely clothed teenage girls who appear to be heading to or from a swimming pool -- This feels like a hotel, or a dorm -- I am out of place and intensely uncomfortable -- I think This is so public, how will I ever get privacy? -- Despite the grassy knoll and parks on the ground floor far below, I am invaded, intruded upon -- The only way I'll ever find respite is in my apartment itself, which I don't even like and makes me uncomfortable --
Claw my way through crowds of teenagers, finally make it to my door and walk inside -- Even with all the lights on, it is still dim, tinged in gold, like Grandma's house -- I can't bear to be here -- I fight my way back downstairs to the ground level and go outside to explore the shops nearby -- I awoke early for this, the sun wasn't up yet -- I am awake before everybody so maybe I'll find some peace out here -- My feet step onto the sidewalk and I'm immediately shoved and pushed by a massive crowd of people on the sidewalk, shifting and moving like an ocean tide, moving not as individuals but as a whole group, as One --
San Francisco --
A huge food cart, almost like a cafeteria kitchen but entirely outside and uncovered, serving up steaming plates of food to an ornery gathering of drunk people -- It is already 4am and I thought I'd beat everybody here? -- But my morning is only beginning, and this crowd of people is topping off their night with a gut full of starchy food -- Nowhere can I step without being bumped into, shoved, pushed aside -- Oddly dark, for a city street -- The tops of people's heads aglow from the gold light of street lamps, heads moving and swaying and shifting like a giant amoebic being, hungry and restless -- I don't make it half a block before becoming frustrated and angry -- I turn back and cut my way through the hoard towards the hotel -- I will never have privacy! THIS is my front yard?! I cannot leave this building without being overrun by tides of people! -- I think of my art studio -- I think of the sunshine pouring in through the windows on a warm bright day -- I think of how perfect it is, perfect for me -- I feel tears starting to form in my guts and I try to hold them back -- It simply is not right --
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