07-20-2012, 12:01 AM
6/27/12
Hey Diddle Diddle
Hey diddle diddle,
The Cat and the fiddle,
The Cow jumped over the moon,
The little Dog laughed to see such sport,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon
Some of this dreaming, is hard for me to write, to tell, to speak to. But because of that, not despite it, I owe myself the responsibility of doing so, in the same way I seem to be fine talking about and sharing most everything else. So here goes, after much dithering and looking for a reason Not to do so. Lol.
The dream unfolds, to start, in a more spacious version of my home. It makes it feel less cozy, more empty. I had been playing a game on the computer, like Grand theft auto liberty city, or maybe saints row three or something like that, an open world, bit over the top game. I spend, as I actually do, to the extent I still play games, which isn’t very often, just looking for mods to create a version of the world that is just so. Feels fun...not that I go on to actually play the games after I do. I just like fiddling with them and building mostly. I like games like civilization or sim city, the sims for that reason, more then anything else anymore. So im on my computer, wasting time doing so. Well, as I do in the waking world, im actually extending dreaming into the activities, and working on myself, in some esoteric way by doing so. Like when I waste time in videos, or sitting outside just seeing. It seems similar anyway to me. So it was done, I was done playing. I saved my edits and shut down my computer. I stretched and yawned, it was about 9pm. I walked into the spacious living room, and pause dot look at art pieces, new ones we don’t have in the real world as I did so. I went to the bathroom, did my bathroom business (I was drinking coffee the whole time of course) and thought about my dreaming life (this real one) a bit. And laughed thinking how on the other side, I would flip that perception of real and dream. Funny thoughts i like playing with both in dreaming and waking. Only thing that changes is which I “choose” to label real and which is more ethereal. So im in a happy enough mood.
I heard my nephew playing in the living room, with a friend, either xbox or ps3. Oddly enough, when I went out there just now, after writing this paragraph, he is here with that friend, and they are playing ps3 having a camp out party eating popcorn and playing. It was much like that in the dream. In the dream, my nephew had the same game I did, the console version, and the mechanism for modding maps was much more difficult. He used the kinnect motion controller to grab and drop things into the world. He took a red house. Red cherry wood. He was by an ocean, and he found a spot on a bluff, on a small peninsula out into the game sea. And dropped the “house”. It worked. A three story sprawling house, vaguely Asian themed, like The California craftsman style, but such red wood, unfolded and grew, with a stair to the sea, and a small hill on the garden. Look I told him, look! Excited. We went into the house, it was so lovely, the waves crashing on the shore, clouds and sun, boats on the bay. I took him outside, excited, to the small hill. There was a mine. And two gnomes, maybe goblins. Nice ones. One you could touch get power, money, and the other you spent money for nifty game Armour and items. He touched the item one first, so lost his saved points. Now he didn’t have enough to buy the mine. He started to cry. I sat him down, and said its OK. Just play some more, you almost still have enough. With this Armour, it will be fine. The Armour gnome/goblin chimed in, yes, yes, I sold you what you needed. The mine gnome, who would tirelessly generate gold/mana/power said yes! You are very close. Id do it on credit but that snot how this works. Just play a bit more. Your only ( ). Or sleep, you’ll have enough, THEN I can mine for you little one. They were very odd, and silly little goblins. Very nice. I remembered them, and this house, it was I have seen it before ind reams, I had packaged it and kept it. I used to play there, when I was younger too. So I was glad he found it and could integrate it. Really, really just happy.
We leave the house by the sea, back out through the gateway of the television. I go and prepare myself a sandwich. Ham, sweet mustard, sauerkraut, and I melt Swiss cheese over the meat. On the bread was rye of course. I toasted the whole thing in the oven. I laugh at myself for not using mayonnaise. I say to myself, you must be getting kosher in maturity sen, Well, aside from the ham and cheese on the meat. Lol. I responded to myself...i never claimed to be Orthodox! Lol. Had a bit of this lighthearted back and forth between levels of myself going on in the dream, like hanging with an old friend. It was nice. I sat and ate the meal at the kitchen table. I got a big dollop of mustard on my shirt. I looked around mischievously, making sure the coast was clear, and simply put the part of my shirt with the mustard n my mouth and sucked it off, like a child might and laughed. I made more of a mess that way...so I got a paper towel and some dish soap and hastily cleaned my shirt. Good as new. And the mustard still tasted great, tangy and sweet. Nice. Lol. Now I was fed, and well rested, relaxed. I went to see my nephew again. But he had left while I was a busy. I saw a note. It read:
“Unkle. I Went to Friends house dad said R ok. Im going to see my friend from internet he is small too. You are invited to come as well, they said. See you latter. Can you bring my backpack? I left my crayons in it I want to do some drawings. C U latter ”
I had a momentary worry, but I saw it was as it said, he went to a friends house, they were friends. Its dream? World of course he could just do so on his own. I decide to go none the less to be watchful, so I take a shower...i never remove my clothes, and this bugs me a bit, for some reason...why do I always do it in that way in dreams. I chuckle at my quirks, but the other me, self, I had such an easy and fun loving dialogue with this night does not respond. I feel a small pang of worry at this, but It is a small thing. So I exit the shower, I feel fully clean. Ready to go. I put on the small backpack, black straps and green outside, not very sturdy a small child’s school pack, not expensive, and leave. I even find my walking stick. I have it again good. And then im off, traveling.
When traveling, its like walking through a dream without form...which is exactly what it was, so the memory is precise for all its fuzziness. And im at the house. It is small, its now almost 10pm. I ring the doorbell and somebody tells me to to come on in. I do so. Its seems empty. My nephew is playing with another smaller child in a main room. But they seem tired, no that snot correct, like they will wake soon. The opposite of tired in truth, but on the other side of the mirror, it is being tired. One goes to sleep to wake. I see them playing and go up to them, and they both smile. But first my nephew yawns and then fades, and then the smaller child. Well, what now. It was a long walk, and adults can stay “up” latter, so I think to find the adults here. Its not that easy. There is a man, I see him, but hes always in another room. Not avoiding exactly, but if I get close he looks and goes into another room. So there isn’t much space for conversation as such. I have a good idea who that at least is.
But there is also a woman there. She is wearing a white bathrobe, a fuzzy one. She must have taken a shower before. I keep eye contact as we speak, because im not intending to notice that it is loosely tied. It fine but im a bit...apprehensive. Internally, not from danger. But from my self. No for worry over behavior, no its something deeper, and older. We talk for a long while, about things. She seems real, but..energy is a bit...i would say drunk, but that snot it, very...energetic, drunk with life, power, awareness, its hard to explain. I worry a bit about one might do, what one might say or see in such a state, hoping its not contagious and I don’t disturb my painfully crafted balance. She is Sitting on a couch. Then I think its time to sleep, and I find a bed. I just sit on it. Then she comes into the room too. And sits not too close but on the bed as well. I make some observation, and get up to talk with my hands, and illustrate something. But its really a pretense to move, when I sit back down im in a chair. Smooth (), real smooth that voice thinks at me a bit sarcastically. First time ive spoken with him in a bit. “like Elvis painted on black velvet baby!” I say out loud, but to myself, trying to diffuse this unease with MYSELF and in MYSELF with humor. It falls flat. “What was that?” she asks. I say oh nothing, just having a running dialogue with the wind I laugh...nothing interesting, the wind actually BLOWS as a conversationalist believe it or not...I see the expression I say “i know, who would have thunk it?”. Still not quite connecting in myself with humor. It grows silent for a time, then she says “look at me”. She has completely opened the robe, from neck down to the pubic area, and is laying back on the bed. So I try and make eye contact. “No” she says “Look AT me”
The resistance in me, its almost like a hum now. But I do. Despite myself, I do. I try and dart my eyes away but I can feel hers, looking at me. What she is doing, its not bold, or commanding. I see, vulnerability, even worry in her eyes, but beyond that, determination. I think that this is no more easy or flippant for her to be seen then it is for me to see. Thats the thing, that shames me, moves me not to look away. So I look. I see the area below, where the hair starts, then grows into a patch. I look up slowly, at the navel. This isnt an idealized form, not airbrushed, it looks real, like a person. As real as I might, as any of us. Time, age, life. Neither this thing or that. Just as it is. I look up, I continue to see. I look a the breasts. Hold my gaze. Then I make eyes contact again. Just sit like that, for a few moments.
Then she asks, “will you stay with me, this night?” I am silent and I get up start walking around again, say well people would worry, And I need to find my nephew...And I have to feed the dogs in the morning...and I... there is no response. So I sit again. I feel like the fool I must sound like. She asks again. “please look at me”. So I do. “look at my chest” So I do. What do you see? She asks. Well I see breasts I think. But when she asks there is some...vulnerability. So I look closer. Are they weird or something? Is one bigger? Are there three? I don’t know. What is she asking. They seem normal, real, im no real expert. But what I hear is...wise. Like what my excuses were about. My own image of self. So I look again. Nothing seems wrong or broken, or ugly. I even see energy coming out and some spots are darker then others. Something in me finally clicks, some lesson. I get up, very tired, and go and sit next to her. I sit with my head down and look at my hands. I give a real reason I wont stay. Its the same reason in dreams I wont shower with my clothes off. The thing the inner voice stopped laughing about with me.
So I speak quietly, in my voice, I hear her own trepidation as I looked, but unlike her, I didn’t have the bravery? Wisdom? To see and say past it. I hardly was speaking. I talked a bit, specifically, about abuse, and ahh physical problems from it. She asked. “So when you get that fixed, if it didn’t matter, then you would...stay? For even one night?” Such a simple question. Really, is it such a big deal, I mean lots of people have imperfections. I think even she showed me some of her own, but I couldn’t even really see whatever she thought they might be...i needed clues from her energy. So then, outside of her perception, how big a deal could they be? What if...im the same, im just too self centered, fixated on the past, to see anything but an exaggerated, negative view of myself. Thats a form of egotism isn’t it? How many times, have I hurt other peoples feelings, pulling away, Avoiding. I think of the lady reporter from the dream, how hurt she was until she saw me better, checked, and then how nice she was, supportive. Si guess I would say yes, but really, thats not really the issue, this or that. Everything perfect in a way things never are. I got that, finally, a bit. I think. But what can I say. I look up and smile, and start clowning. I say “Damn you know it Girl? Id be all up in yo gril 4 shizy!” The most ridiculous playa fake talk I could act out, and did a somersault. Again it fell flat, in myself. She told me.
“Why are you so estranged, from yourself” I knew what she meant, and it was said gently. Im afraid of nothing, im unconcerned and open, but the closer I get to the real me, in dreams, the more like this I become, but if its more abstract, im not like this at all. Sigh. I don’t know what to say now. My inner voice, my other self, the feeling like wall of water, it wont leave me alone. So I get up, and wander around allot. Until she goes to bed. Then I gather the backpack, and make to leave. I see the man, who was in another room watching. I smile weakly, and prepare to go. I decide to use the backdoor, to leave by the backdoor, so no one hears me going.
I feel like a coward, or a wounded person slinking off. I laugh at myself the “rag doll” video by aerosmith, that song a line from it. Its irony. But it doesn’t cheer me really. No the music that comes...is estranged by guns and roses. Also, in me vision, I see words, like definitions in a screen floating in the sky, different words. Highlighted din red with all sorts of meanings. Estranged is the first word. Like she said, I am Estranged from my self somehow. My double. A resistance, fear, avoiding. I see the man looking again as I leave. I knew all along it was wolf. I just choose to pretend not to notice. I refused to speculate on the women, I said “from past or maybe a symbolic something whatever...symbolic flied in the face of being a real energy but whatever. I am and was quite set on keeping it at that. So the long, slow, sad song estranged plays.
I leave as I came, save out the backdoor, with my walking stick, and the backpack. I have allot of time in and with myself as I go. To think, or not think. Mostly about my silliness. So I have imperfections, so what. As she showed me, I think, we all do, and insecurities. It didn’t matter, to stay the night, it wasn’t such a silly thing. Even if it mattered enough to fix them, would it really change inside, im sure id find another excuse and another to avoid facing my own resistances inside. My god do I have to write about this in the other world? In ()? Will people think this or that. I don’t want to. But i remind myself. Do you think () was comfortable talking about the furry dream, that it was easy for him to face that? Or how about (), some of the stories she tells, as she perceives them, from her own dreams. Is she an exhibitionist of such things? No, shes even more private then I am, about such details of life etc. Or how about (), does she just throw things out there like they are nothing? Easy? on a lark? No. Just honestly. No she does not, she does so to communicate and share. So there I see, everyone else, being brave, having same reservations I might, but being mature and facing them, writing them. And im looking for an excuse not too, before im even awake. I see () around, helping people, quietly, in dreams, and I even presume to help sometimes, in some non specific ways. But really sen? You have trouble being honest with even yourself, but you presume to preach bravery and non concern, being bold and true? Healer...heal thy self. That makes me laugh. At both ends of the thought. Fine, fine, ill write this as I saw it, no more or less. Finally my double side eases up on me a bit. I mean its not like I need to change, or be different then my nature. I just need to let go of the self importance of fear and self judgment. I mean really, I would have been quiet and not a bold person regardless, and its not about actions in that sense, its about honesty, and resistance to power. Thats all. Lighten up. So no the impassive voice, not laughing at any of my jokes, is in turn cheering me up. Well thats good. I say well ill get back to it latter. Lets keep walking...maybe we will get lucky and have to fight of some vampire troll dolls. “thats the spirit” he tells me laughing, thats the spirit.
Somebody, when the music stopped, was reading a poem. It went:
“Sen how fast must you run, when the fear you see is only visible in the form of one who loves
How far must you go, when the bullet, from the gun you see, is attached to the hand you know.
You fear and think all see, what you see in the mirror you fear, but it is, only an idea. SEE!”
Something like that, but a bit more poetic perhaps. Alright I get it, well, I get I need to figure it out, loved the poem though thank you I feel something laughing in resonance wit me again. Hehe.
No vampire troll dolls. I had walked randomly, and had no idea where I was. It was a densely built street, with large homes. I see myself in a reflection in a puddle in the street. Wild hair, unkempt beard. Wearing pajamas with little baseballs and and athletes swinging bats on it. No shoes. And the pajamas were too small. And a backpack. I looked like a complete weirdo. Lol. Great. And I was walking with a staff. So it was with some hesitation, I walked to a house and called into it. “Excuse me madam, do you have any idea where I am, how to get back?” I said to a lady in the door. She said err...get back to were. Children saw me, from each house, and they all ran up to me and surrounded me like I was Santa clause. The parents all stood looking strange. Like deciding to shoot or just call the police. I said “please children, go back inside, I look weird enough sheesh” But they didn’t. So I opened the backpack and pulled out little things for each of them. Then they went away after some time, but I had a little train behind me of laughing children, as I went door to door asking directions. I walked along time. A day? Well the children trailed off, left, I figured just keep walking...if I walk long enough, im bound to come back to the other side right? Hehe. No. in time I came to a bright place, by a large modern mansion. Two men, were talking earnestly. About solar pumps and zero waste recycling pool water. How now they could not conserve, and it was just as friendly, to power, as being a miser. So leave the pool light son year round! How neat. Conservation is like dieting. Its not that fun, and if its not needed, well play away. I see the owner come out, he doesn’t pay me mind, I chime in my thoughts, and he turns. We talk a bit, he is polite enough not to be put off by my appearance. When I leave I say “thanks (), you always were a scholar and gentleman, for a guy that looked like don Johnson and was the opposite of me different girl every night and a serious student at the same time. Now he turns and sees me...thinking...drew? I say yea, hehe yea. And congratulations on all this in life my friend. And I meant it, it was really him, and he was in awe about a dream knowing so much. What a goof.
I wake and force myself to write notes, and go back to sleep
When I go back, many similar dreams, with people here, well similar to most knights. Adventures, traveling, playing. I remember the other dream, but its not for then, im not fixated I never am fixated its not my personality. So we have lots of fun, I see everyone. For hours ans hours of sleeping. Didn’t write to much about these adventures, I had my one that demanded I write it.
But the very last dream, also wanted my attention. I got a message, we were all going to meet. In (), either () house or (). Im not sure now. We were talking and talking, and I wasn’t the only one with apprehension or resistance. But it was decided. To try. So I nervously said I will come to...probably. If I could. Leaving myself a back door so to speak. Im not sure () or () were any more...certain? But no one wanted to be the first stinker to cancel. Lol. () was coming too. Others, but I hadn’t talked to them it was in the message.
The day in the dream went on. I had the gun in my hand, and I put a hole in a speaker, my brothers, it leaked some sort of sharp but not caustic liquid, like the inside was a liquid speaker. I played a game an old one i redid now a game from childhood when we were young...like a coleco or Nintendo. I let it drain, I was worried, I told him. It was like power. Now one was empty. I put it up, I would get a new one fix it. It would recharge. I went for a meal. To buy a burger, something. Restaurant after restaurant long lines, something off. Meaning in that, with beings. A repeat dream ive had many variations. I cut to the chase here just ordered a lamb jhyro from the winking Greek or Turkish man who always kept some good stuff for me. Wheew. I was ready to come back home. So I check the messages again. I look in a mirror. What will they see when they come. I don’t look like me now. Im still my age sorta. But y hair is long like my senior year of high school., like halfway down my back. And its wild. And im so slender. Like 110 pounds, same height, like I am now. It looks OK, because i really have a slender frame. My eyes are so green, like anime, or computer generated. I laugh, I kinda look like a really ugly woman with a huge Adams apple, like I did then. Sometimes id be in shops, and people would say “excuse me mam” until I turned around and they saw the little mustache, then they’d often say ohhh... embarrassed. And id always laugh and put them at ease. Make a joke. So I comb my hair. Ill put it in a dude pony tail. Gee...is my mom around she used to help me with that lol. Laughing like that. I open my mouth and I don have teeth, I have broken pieces of blackened bone and such...no thats a tooth at an angle. Another insecurity, not event the same one as before, exaggerated. Well whatever. Had this lesson once today. Ill just laugh and go with it. Whatever. But then I stop laughing, and im thinking about finding an excuse.
Then () calls me while im messing with myself in the mirror, my hair and such.
She asks if im going I say yes if I can but... she cuts me off. She says “I am going, so I don’t see why there would be a question of you doing so” I said yea but family, time, money. She says a bit impatiently “Do you think its easy for me? I am a (), so the expense of the tickets is large. I have () and family too. Its just as hard for me to come as it would be for you to here, scrimping, asking family for help with tickets etc. But im doing it. I hardly think a few tanks of gas, and a bit of time is too much for you to handle, right sen? Well...gee. Put like that...i feel pretty silly. Unless there are other reasons, but sen, we all have those things too...” she said very softly. I said “omg I know, I just went through this earlier in dreaming...no don’t ask lol. Ill write it (). So anyway im taking the silver car, and am going to stop a night along the way, to a bit of wandering...any idea what airline you would take?” And then we talked a bit like that as I gave up on my stupid hair and laughed. Hehe. Fin. (edit: we were talking about all meeting, from (), for real, or as many as could not a dream thing)
Hey Diddle Diddle
Hey diddle diddle,
The Cat and the fiddle,
The Cow jumped over the moon,
The little Dog laughed to see such sport,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon
Some of this dreaming, is hard for me to write, to tell, to speak to. But because of that, not despite it, I owe myself the responsibility of doing so, in the same way I seem to be fine talking about and sharing most everything else. So here goes, after much dithering and looking for a reason Not to do so. Lol.
The dream unfolds, to start, in a more spacious version of my home. It makes it feel less cozy, more empty. I had been playing a game on the computer, like Grand theft auto liberty city, or maybe saints row three or something like that, an open world, bit over the top game. I spend, as I actually do, to the extent I still play games, which isn’t very often, just looking for mods to create a version of the world that is just so. Feels fun...not that I go on to actually play the games after I do. I just like fiddling with them and building mostly. I like games like civilization or sim city, the sims for that reason, more then anything else anymore. So im on my computer, wasting time doing so. Well, as I do in the waking world, im actually extending dreaming into the activities, and working on myself, in some esoteric way by doing so. Like when I waste time in videos, or sitting outside just seeing. It seems similar anyway to me. So it was done, I was done playing. I saved my edits and shut down my computer. I stretched and yawned, it was about 9pm. I walked into the spacious living room, and pause dot look at art pieces, new ones we don’t have in the real world as I did so. I went to the bathroom, did my bathroom business (I was drinking coffee the whole time of course) and thought about my dreaming life (this real one) a bit. And laughed thinking how on the other side, I would flip that perception of real and dream. Funny thoughts i like playing with both in dreaming and waking. Only thing that changes is which I “choose” to label real and which is more ethereal. So im in a happy enough mood.
I heard my nephew playing in the living room, with a friend, either xbox or ps3. Oddly enough, when I went out there just now, after writing this paragraph, he is here with that friend, and they are playing ps3 having a camp out party eating popcorn and playing. It was much like that in the dream. In the dream, my nephew had the same game I did, the console version, and the mechanism for modding maps was much more difficult. He used the kinnect motion controller to grab and drop things into the world. He took a red house. Red cherry wood. He was by an ocean, and he found a spot on a bluff, on a small peninsula out into the game sea. And dropped the “house”. It worked. A three story sprawling house, vaguely Asian themed, like The California craftsman style, but such red wood, unfolded and grew, with a stair to the sea, and a small hill on the garden. Look I told him, look! Excited. We went into the house, it was so lovely, the waves crashing on the shore, clouds and sun, boats on the bay. I took him outside, excited, to the small hill. There was a mine. And two gnomes, maybe goblins. Nice ones. One you could touch get power, money, and the other you spent money for nifty game Armour and items. He touched the item one first, so lost his saved points. Now he didn’t have enough to buy the mine. He started to cry. I sat him down, and said its OK. Just play some more, you almost still have enough. With this Armour, it will be fine. The Armour gnome/goblin chimed in, yes, yes, I sold you what you needed. The mine gnome, who would tirelessly generate gold/mana/power said yes! You are very close. Id do it on credit but that snot how this works. Just play a bit more. Your only ( ). Or sleep, you’ll have enough, THEN I can mine for you little one. They were very odd, and silly little goblins. Very nice. I remembered them, and this house, it was I have seen it before ind reams, I had packaged it and kept it. I used to play there, when I was younger too. So I was glad he found it and could integrate it. Really, really just happy.
We leave the house by the sea, back out through the gateway of the television. I go and prepare myself a sandwich. Ham, sweet mustard, sauerkraut, and I melt Swiss cheese over the meat. On the bread was rye of course. I toasted the whole thing in the oven. I laugh at myself for not using mayonnaise. I say to myself, you must be getting kosher in maturity sen, Well, aside from the ham and cheese on the meat. Lol. I responded to myself...i never claimed to be Orthodox! Lol. Had a bit of this lighthearted back and forth between levels of myself going on in the dream, like hanging with an old friend. It was nice. I sat and ate the meal at the kitchen table. I got a big dollop of mustard on my shirt. I looked around mischievously, making sure the coast was clear, and simply put the part of my shirt with the mustard n my mouth and sucked it off, like a child might and laughed. I made more of a mess that way...so I got a paper towel and some dish soap and hastily cleaned my shirt. Good as new. And the mustard still tasted great, tangy and sweet. Nice. Lol. Now I was fed, and well rested, relaxed. I went to see my nephew again. But he had left while I was a busy. I saw a note. It read:
“Unkle. I Went to Friends house dad said R ok. Im going to see my friend from internet he is small too. You are invited to come as well, they said. See you latter. Can you bring my backpack? I left my crayons in it I want to do some drawings. C U latter ”
I had a momentary worry, but I saw it was as it said, he went to a friends house, they were friends. Its dream? World of course he could just do so on his own. I decide to go none the less to be watchful, so I take a shower...i never remove my clothes, and this bugs me a bit, for some reason...why do I always do it in that way in dreams. I chuckle at my quirks, but the other me, self, I had such an easy and fun loving dialogue with this night does not respond. I feel a small pang of worry at this, but It is a small thing. So I exit the shower, I feel fully clean. Ready to go. I put on the small backpack, black straps and green outside, not very sturdy a small child’s school pack, not expensive, and leave. I even find my walking stick. I have it again good. And then im off, traveling.
When traveling, its like walking through a dream without form...which is exactly what it was, so the memory is precise for all its fuzziness. And im at the house. It is small, its now almost 10pm. I ring the doorbell and somebody tells me to to come on in. I do so. Its seems empty. My nephew is playing with another smaller child in a main room. But they seem tired, no that snot correct, like they will wake soon. The opposite of tired in truth, but on the other side of the mirror, it is being tired. One goes to sleep to wake. I see them playing and go up to them, and they both smile. But first my nephew yawns and then fades, and then the smaller child. Well, what now. It was a long walk, and adults can stay “up” latter, so I think to find the adults here. Its not that easy. There is a man, I see him, but hes always in another room. Not avoiding exactly, but if I get close he looks and goes into another room. So there isn’t much space for conversation as such. I have a good idea who that at least is.
But there is also a woman there. She is wearing a white bathrobe, a fuzzy one. She must have taken a shower before. I keep eye contact as we speak, because im not intending to notice that it is loosely tied. It fine but im a bit...apprehensive. Internally, not from danger. But from my self. No for worry over behavior, no its something deeper, and older. We talk for a long while, about things. She seems real, but..energy is a bit...i would say drunk, but that snot it, very...energetic, drunk with life, power, awareness, its hard to explain. I worry a bit about one might do, what one might say or see in such a state, hoping its not contagious and I don’t disturb my painfully crafted balance. She is Sitting on a couch. Then I think its time to sleep, and I find a bed. I just sit on it. Then she comes into the room too. And sits not too close but on the bed as well. I make some observation, and get up to talk with my hands, and illustrate something. But its really a pretense to move, when I sit back down im in a chair. Smooth (), real smooth that voice thinks at me a bit sarcastically. First time ive spoken with him in a bit. “like Elvis painted on black velvet baby!” I say out loud, but to myself, trying to diffuse this unease with MYSELF and in MYSELF with humor. It falls flat. “What was that?” she asks. I say oh nothing, just having a running dialogue with the wind I laugh...nothing interesting, the wind actually BLOWS as a conversationalist believe it or not...I see the expression I say “i know, who would have thunk it?”. Still not quite connecting in myself with humor. It grows silent for a time, then she says “look at me”. She has completely opened the robe, from neck down to the pubic area, and is laying back on the bed. So I try and make eye contact. “No” she says “Look AT me”
The resistance in me, its almost like a hum now. But I do. Despite myself, I do. I try and dart my eyes away but I can feel hers, looking at me. What she is doing, its not bold, or commanding. I see, vulnerability, even worry in her eyes, but beyond that, determination. I think that this is no more easy or flippant for her to be seen then it is for me to see. Thats the thing, that shames me, moves me not to look away. So I look. I see the area below, where the hair starts, then grows into a patch. I look up slowly, at the navel. This isnt an idealized form, not airbrushed, it looks real, like a person. As real as I might, as any of us. Time, age, life. Neither this thing or that. Just as it is. I look up, I continue to see. I look a the breasts. Hold my gaze. Then I make eyes contact again. Just sit like that, for a few moments.
Then she asks, “will you stay with me, this night?” I am silent and I get up start walking around again, say well people would worry, And I need to find my nephew...And I have to feed the dogs in the morning...and I... there is no response. So I sit again. I feel like the fool I must sound like. She asks again. “please look at me”. So I do. “look at my chest” So I do. What do you see? She asks. Well I see breasts I think. But when she asks there is some...vulnerability. So I look closer. Are they weird or something? Is one bigger? Are there three? I don’t know. What is she asking. They seem normal, real, im no real expert. But what I hear is...wise. Like what my excuses were about. My own image of self. So I look again. Nothing seems wrong or broken, or ugly. I even see energy coming out and some spots are darker then others. Something in me finally clicks, some lesson. I get up, very tired, and go and sit next to her. I sit with my head down and look at my hands. I give a real reason I wont stay. Its the same reason in dreams I wont shower with my clothes off. The thing the inner voice stopped laughing about with me.
So I speak quietly, in my voice, I hear her own trepidation as I looked, but unlike her, I didn’t have the bravery? Wisdom? To see and say past it. I hardly was speaking. I talked a bit, specifically, about abuse, and ahh physical problems from it. She asked. “So when you get that fixed, if it didn’t matter, then you would...stay? For even one night?” Such a simple question. Really, is it such a big deal, I mean lots of people have imperfections. I think even she showed me some of her own, but I couldn’t even really see whatever she thought they might be...i needed clues from her energy. So then, outside of her perception, how big a deal could they be? What if...im the same, im just too self centered, fixated on the past, to see anything but an exaggerated, negative view of myself. Thats a form of egotism isn’t it? How many times, have I hurt other peoples feelings, pulling away, Avoiding. I think of the lady reporter from the dream, how hurt she was until she saw me better, checked, and then how nice she was, supportive. Si guess I would say yes, but really, thats not really the issue, this or that. Everything perfect in a way things never are. I got that, finally, a bit. I think. But what can I say. I look up and smile, and start clowning. I say “Damn you know it Girl? Id be all up in yo gril 4 shizy!” The most ridiculous playa fake talk I could act out, and did a somersault. Again it fell flat, in myself. She told me.
“Why are you so estranged, from yourself” I knew what she meant, and it was said gently. Im afraid of nothing, im unconcerned and open, but the closer I get to the real me, in dreams, the more like this I become, but if its more abstract, im not like this at all. Sigh. I don’t know what to say now. My inner voice, my other self, the feeling like wall of water, it wont leave me alone. So I get up, and wander around allot. Until she goes to bed. Then I gather the backpack, and make to leave. I see the man, who was in another room watching. I smile weakly, and prepare to go. I decide to use the backdoor, to leave by the backdoor, so no one hears me going.
I feel like a coward, or a wounded person slinking off. I laugh at myself the “rag doll” video by aerosmith, that song a line from it. Its irony. But it doesn’t cheer me really. No the music that comes...is estranged by guns and roses. Also, in me vision, I see words, like definitions in a screen floating in the sky, different words. Highlighted din red with all sorts of meanings. Estranged is the first word. Like she said, I am Estranged from my self somehow. My double. A resistance, fear, avoiding. I see the man looking again as I leave. I knew all along it was wolf. I just choose to pretend not to notice. I refused to speculate on the women, I said “from past or maybe a symbolic something whatever...symbolic flied in the face of being a real energy but whatever. I am and was quite set on keeping it at that. So the long, slow, sad song estranged plays.
I leave as I came, save out the backdoor, with my walking stick, and the backpack. I have allot of time in and with myself as I go. To think, or not think. Mostly about my silliness. So I have imperfections, so what. As she showed me, I think, we all do, and insecurities. It didn’t matter, to stay the night, it wasn’t such a silly thing. Even if it mattered enough to fix them, would it really change inside, im sure id find another excuse and another to avoid facing my own resistances inside. My god do I have to write about this in the other world? In ()? Will people think this or that. I don’t want to. But i remind myself. Do you think () was comfortable talking about the furry dream, that it was easy for him to face that? Or how about (), some of the stories she tells, as she perceives them, from her own dreams. Is she an exhibitionist of such things? No, shes even more private then I am, about such details of life etc. Or how about (), does she just throw things out there like they are nothing? Easy? on a lark? No. Just honestly. No she does not, she does so to communicate and share. So there I see, everyone else, being brave, having same reservations I might, but being mature and facing them, writing them. And im looking for an excuse not too, before im even awake. I see () around, helping people, quietly, in dreams, and I even presume to help sometimes, in some non specific ways. But really sen? You have trouble being honest with even yourself, but you presume to preach bravery and non concern, being bold and true? Healer...heal thy self. That makes me laugh. At both ends of the thought. Fine, fine, ill write this as I saw it, no more or less. Finally my double side eases up on me a bit. I mean its not like I need to change, or be different then my nature. I just need to let go of the self importance of fear and self judgment. I mean really, I would have been quiet and not a bold person regardless, and its not about actions in that sense, its about honesty, and resistance to power. Thats all. Lighten up. So no the impassive voice, not laughing at any of my jokes, is in turn cheering me up. Well thats good. I say well ill get back to it latter. Lets keep walking...maybe we will get lucky and have to fight of some vampire troll dolls. “thats the spirit” he tells me laughing, thats the spirit.
Somebody, when the music stopped, was reading a poem. It went:
“Sen how fast must you run, when the fear you see is only visible in the form of one who loves
How far must you go, when the bullet, from the gun you see, is attached to the hand you know.
You fear and think all see, what you see in the mirror you fear, but it is, only an idea. SEE!”
Something like that, but a bit more poetic perhaps. Alright I get it, well, I get I need to figure it out, loved the poem though thank you I feel something laughing in resonance wit me again. Hehe.
No vampire troll dolls. I had walked randomly, and had no idea where I was. It was a densely built street, with large homes. I see myself in a reflection in a puddle in the street. Wild hair, unkempt beard. Wearing pajamas with little baseballs and and athletes swinging bats on it. No shoes. And the pajamas were too small. And a backpack. I looked like a complete weirdo. Lol. Great. And I was walking with a staff. So it was with some hesitation, I walked to a house and called into it. “Excuse me madam, do you have any idea where I am, how to get back?” I said to a lady in the door. She said err...get back to were. Children saw me, from each house, and they all ran up to me and surrounded me like I was Santa clause. The parents all stood looking strange. Like deciding to shoot or just call the police. I said “please children, go back inside, I look weird enough sheesh” But they didn’t. So I opened the backpack and pulled out little things for each of them. Then they went away after some time, but I had a little train behind me of laughing children, as I went door to door asking directions. I walked along time. A day? Well the children trailed off, left, I figured just keep walking...if I walk long enough, im bound to come back to the other side right? Hehe. No. in time I came to a bright place, by a large modern mansion. Two men, were talking earnestly. About solar pumps and zero waste recycling pool water. How now they could not conserve, and it was just as friendly, to power, as being a miser. So leave the pool light son year round! How neat. Conservation is like dieting. Its not that fun, and if its not needed, well play away. I see the owner come out, he doesn’t pay me mind, I chime in my thoughts, and he turns. We talk a bit, he is polite enough not to be put off by my appearance. When I leave I say “thanks (), you always were a scholar and gentleman, for a guy that looked like don Johnson and was the opposite of me different girl every night and a serious student at the same time. Now he turns and sees me...thinking...drew? I say yea, hehe yea. And congratulations on all this in life my friend. And I meant it, it was really him, and he was in awe about a dream knowing so much. What a goof.
I wake and force myself to write notes, and go back to sleep
When I go back, many similar dreams, with people here, well similar to most knights. Adventures, traveling, playing. I remember the other dream, but its not for then, im not fixated I never am fixated its not my personality. So we have lots of fun, I see everyone. For hours ans hours of sleeping. Didn’t write to much about these adventures, I had my one that demanded I write it.
But the very last dream, also wanted my attention. I got a message, we were all going to meet. In (), either () house or (). Im not sure now. We were talking and talking, and I wasn’t the only one with apprehension or resistance. But it was decided. To try. So I nervously said I will come to...probably. If I could. Leaving myself a back door so to speak. Im not sure () or () were any more...certain? But no one wanted to be the first stinker to cancel. Lol. () was coming too. Others, but I hadn’t talked to them it was in the message.
The day in the dream went on. I had the gun in my hand, and I put a hole in a speaker, my brothers, it leaked some sort of sharp but not caustic liquid, like the inside was a liquid speaker. I played a game an old one i redid now a game from childhood when we were young...like a coleco or Nintendo. I let it drain, I was worried, I told him. It was like power. Now one was empty. I put it up, I would get a new one fix it. It would recharge. I went for a meal. To buy a burger, something. Restaurant after restaurant long lines, something off. Meaning in that, with beings. A repeat dream ive had many variations. I cut to the chase here just ordered a lamb jhyro from the winking Greek or Turkish man who always kept some good stuff for me. Wheew. I was ready to come back home. So I check the messages again. I look in a mirror. What will they see when they come. I don’t look like me now. Im still my age sorta. But y hair is long like my senior year of high school., like halfway down my back. And its wild. And im so slender. Like 110 pounds, same height, like I am now. It looks OK, because i really have a slender frame. My eyes are so green, like anime, or computer generated. I laugh, I kinda look like a really ugly woman with a huge Adams apple, like I did then. Sometimes id be in shops, and people would say “excuse me mam” until I turned around and they saw the little mustache, then they’d often say ohhh... embarrassed. And id always laugh and put them at ease. Make a joke. So I comb my hair. Ill put it in a dude pony tail. Gee...is my mom around she used to help me with that lol. Laughing like that. I open my mouth and I don have teeth, I have broken pieces of blackened bone and such...no thats a tooth at an angle. Another insecurity, not event the same one as before, exaggerated. Well whatever. Had this lesson once today. Ill just laugh and go with it. Whatever. But then I stop laughing, and im thinking about finding an excuse.
Then () calls me while im messing with myself in the mirror, my hair and such.
She asks if im going I say yes if I can but... she cuts me off. She says “I am going, so I don’t see why there would be a question of you doing so” I said yea but family, time, money. She says a bit impatiently “Do you think its easy for me? I am a (), so the expense of the tickets is large. I have () and family too. Its just as hard for me to come as it would be for you to here, scrimping, asking family for help with tickets etc. But im doing it. I hardly think a few tanks of gas, and a bit of time is too much for you to handle, right sen? Well...gee. Put like that...i feel pretty silly. Unless there are other reasons, but sen, we all have those things too...” she said very softly. I said “omg I know, I just went through this earlier in dreaming...no don’t ask lol. Ill write it (). So anyway im taking the silver car, and am going to stop a night along the way, to a bit of wandering...any idea what airline you would take?” And then we talked a bit like that as I gave up on my stupid hair and laughed. Hehe. Fin. (edit: we were talking about all meeting, from (), for real, or as many as could not a dream thing)