Updated, to save space, with the dreams of last night 1/31-2/01
Last night got intense. The daughter in my house again, we got another dog. Small, cute, good vibes. Then my brother gets a grey-striped kitten and suddenly I recall already having two house cats. Too many pets, my brain is processing, too many. This is not okay. In fact multiple cats begin to appear. Adorable, but not good.
The new dog approaches the new kitten and mauls it. It requires both hands to pry this dog’s jaws from the face of a kitten. Infuriated. Heartbroken. These senses run through my body. The kitten’s wounds get worse in my mind until flesh hangs off and blood drips. I cradle the animal in front of an emergency vet’s store window as they are turning their sign off. They see me and my mother standing outside at the last minute with an injured kitten and they let us in. My head says: they will fix the problem. Mom will help afford the cost. This will be fixed. I feel some relief.
Then I’m in the backyard. I notice frogs in the grass. Then I notice bees. Honey combs appear everywhere. Bees are swarming the back yard. I spray some with poison and this draws hundreds of thousands of bees. Home invasion. I feel bad but start spraying the honey combs. I’m in a chair and I feel something bump me from underneath – startled, I look down and it’s just a grey-striped kitten prancing under me.
One sort of flying insect has a massive round head, big enough to crash in with a hammer. The hammer appears in the corner of my yard. It gets used. The thing dies.
Then the bee stuff is over and it’s a cloudy grey day. The backyard is flooded to my knees and a giant gator is swimming straight down the center towards the woods. Only his nostrils poke out as he glides. I side-step this awful beast and wonder, “Why doesn’t anyone just shoot it in the head?” My mind thinks: a bad thing that can be fixed and easily enough avoided. The gator scene is over.
Then I flew by orchestrating the desire of motion, height and speed with my arms. It was pretty hard, because I’d go straight up and have to fight the image of plummeting or else I knew I would. Over, over, imagine the scene sliding sideways and it will, over, and just about six blocks or so. That’s as far as I got. Took only a moment, felt very out-of-body. There was a river up ahead and I would walk the rest of the way.
A voice beside me asked, “Is there no one to go down there with, my dear?”
I was like, “No, everyone I know sort of taints our moments together like they have to be catered to them. I don’t know if I really know anyone who I can just be me with, and enjoy who they are when I’m with them.” This made me sad. Knowing this. This lack of support.
The voice started rattling off names. Maybe like a spiritual presence, maybe another person, maybe just my own thoughts. But they were saying names the way I scroll my phone’s address book and go “no, no, no, no, no-“
“Hey wait a minute, I don’t even know a Shane. You’re suggesting people I don’t even know, so stop.”
I was in the river briefly. Hostas grew on a rock and looked beautiful. I related to them but felt disconnected at the same time. Plants are plants.
Then it was my back yard and beautiful. Clear blue sky! I erected a pool. First a little one and then a long one, and I just wanted to be under that sun swimming as hard for as long as I could –
And I woke up that way, still wishing I could swim. That feeling. Is still inside me.
Last night I was on a rooftop. I looked across the cityscape and saw a blonde hacker looking back. Happy, I told him that something awful in me had been lifted – that I was free to live in a way that always seemed right.
He answered, talking loudly over the wind, “Autumn, you love everyone.”
And it was a question of ‘normal’, of ‘right’, where ideals are relative.
Underwater, I dug in the sand for treasure. A sea creature turned a small squid upside down, looked at the dangly bits and said, “Her mother’s tits?”
I thought, “This thing is kind of crass.”
Back on land, over grey commercial-thin carpet strolled a mother-son couple just as they had in real life the day before. Arm in arm, he was very tall and used a red stick. His clothes were smart, plaid jacket, gentleman’s hat, nothing like how a typical 20-30 year old man would dress. And his hair was creeping over his ears, likely kept in general by the woman who brought him into town.
Oddly attracted to him, I had asked myself if it was a sort of pity that drew me near. I reasoned, well of course I wish that he could see, but considering him right now I’d say his world is really rather occupied.
Seeing him again in this strange air, I ran up and kissed him on the mouth with everything I thought was beautiful about him and explained, as I walked away,
“Something your mother can’t give you.”
My journal loaded like an atmosphere and I wrote something to my friend in raspberry tones that ended with:
No matter where we stand,
I will always devour you with my right hand.
What the heck I meant by that is anyone’s guess but I think it had to do with accepting her in goodness.
Then I was guarding an alleyway of red brick, much like I guard the vestibule at work when something shady is going on. I felt one of my teeth come loose and it shocked the hell out of me. Reaching in my mouth to confirm the horror, I was devastated.
I had just lost a permanent tooth! How? What do I do now, oh shit oh shit. Then I started spitting teeth. I spoke out loud to a few random onlookers.
“This can’t be happening; it doesn’t make any sense. No way am I losing my teeth! This is terrible. PLEASE, let me just wake up, this sucks so much.”
I wasn’t waking up.
“What if I’m in some car crash right now, and I don’t remember going out? Something could be happening to me. I DON’T HAVE DENTAL COVERAGE RIGHT NOW!”
Flailing my hands worked. I was wide-eyed in bed, looking at the ceiling fan, with much to remember.