Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts

May 27, 2013

Parking Lots Appear to Be A Theme

Dream
May 27, 2013

I walk through a parking lot, some of the cars are familiar -- I am wearing a skirt, or maybe a dress, with purple on it, and a cardigan -- Fancy, with somewhere to go -- I see your car and need to put my purse on the back seat for later -- I start to open the side sliding door and you appear, almost materialize from the front of the hood, a disturbingly strange expression on your face -- contorted, odd, not you -- I can tell you find it odd I am putting my purse in your car -- Makes sense to me, especially after the other day --

"You can't use your car?" you ask, uncharacteristically defensive -- you are so kind other times --

"It's not here, I need this for later," I respond -- While this is true, my other car is nearby and I'm sure you notice -- the embarrassment seeps in, feel my face get hot -- You have the strangest grin, a huge toothy smile -- Are you hiding something? -- Gripping the back of your pants and facing me, even when you begin to walk away --

"What's that smile for?" I inquire -- You shake your head, still with maniacal grin, trying to cover a spot on your pants -- "Did you sit in something?"

"I don't know what you mean," --

Confused and disoriented, I leave my purse -- Did i miss something? -- An oddness settles in my belly -- the sky looms dark and painted, closing in on me --

 I wander through the lot, cars and cars, wondering, waiting -- the sense that leaving my purse is a catastrophic idea -- He doesn't want you in any part of his life -- It's not okay to do those kinds of things anymore --

You are at the other end of the lot on a patch of grass taking photos with the rest of the party -- Blues and greens, and bow ties -- They line you up with the others, positioning just so, all the while you attempt to disguise what I have now deduced is the puddle of water you sat in that soaked your pants -- I watch for a few moments, wondering if you see me, knowing acutely you don't ever think twice -- 

I turn around to find your car and it has moved -- start to run and feel frantic, searching, yearning -- I know where it is, I just have to get there, just have to finish this and be done with it -- I see it across the lot away from other cars, underneath concrete beams and a door -- you are sitting in the passenger seat talking on the phone -- I approach the window and gesture "I'm sorry to bug you" -- Your face reads irritation, my heart sinks into my feet -- I realize now, for the first time, it will never be the same --  I open the side door, grab my purse as fast as possible, knowing I crossed some imperceptible boundary -- I feel awful, helpless --

May 16, 2013

Painted Skies and Purple Blankets

Dream
May 15, 2013

I am distracted, in a field, twirling and laughing -- you are there too, nearby -- by my side, laughing and talking and following me wherever I go -- The grass is tall, the sky bright and close -- You are wearing a blue shirt, the deep ocean blue one that I love so much, that makes the brown of your eyes dark and rich -- Your face is happy and warm -- 

I move about the field fluidly, under the huge sky -- You are always by my side -- I wonder if you will always be there with me, if there is anything I can do that will make you run away, disappear -- I run a few yards in opposite directions -- I stop and turn back, you are there, laughing -- Your smile the light of the sun itself! -- the colors of the green grass and purple sky are saturated and thick -- a painted world rich with life, love --

We fall --

Lying on the ground you tell me a whimsical story and I laugh and laugh -- Time slows, stops, the most painstakingly wonderful eternity it takes for you to kiss my cheek -- a most perfect kiss! -- more beautiful than I'd imagined a thousand times in my mind, in my heart --

We swim in purple and white blankets -- Sheepish and giddy, I wonder if you will hug me -- I wonder if you are real -- I am the little spoon, even though you are shorter than me, hand resting gently on my hip -- the most natural thing in the world -- How could I not have imagined?  Why was I afraid?

I am whole -- complete -- at peace with the unrest, One with the struggle -- Your soul lights mine and mine yours, and we laugh --

May 2, 2013

Of Monsters and Empty Rooms

Dream
May 1, 2013

I stand in the living room, no furniture -- Bare, carpeted floors and some sheer white curtains hanging in front of French doors opening to a backyard -- Whose backyard? -- They are out there, it is out there, and I pace -- back and forth, wall to wall -- anxious, tense, keeping it together but still worried, unsure -- Can it see me?  -- the carpet a dull beige, worn, dirty --

From an opening to my left emerges a hideous creature, a gigantic, grotesquely oversized Daddy Long Leg spider! -- Huge, massive spindly legs, a mechanically quick body -- it walks across the floor from the opening in the wall to the French doors on my right, right in front of me -- I cannot move -- it carries a strange posture, appearing visibly to be anxious in the way I am anxious, anticipating what I anticipate, outside those doors, wondering if it can be seen --

I observe the animal with an internal terror and disgust, but I do not flee -- oddly compelled, intensely curious -- I observe the creature move back and forth, wall to wall, darting swiftly over the dingy carpet, thin yet heavy legs thumping softly -- The more closely I observe I realize its legs are spider legs, but with a body partially spider and partially monkey -- a monkey spider? -- and amongst the legs emerge two small hands and a tiny face, coated in hair -- fur? -- I know it to have a mind, awareness, consciousness -- it feels pain, worry, fear -- horrifying in an otherworldly sense, yet beautiful and vulnerable --

April 27, 2013

Shifting Crowds, Ocean Tides

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 --