Blessings and Weirdness


A Manta ray with attached remoras at Ningaloo ...

I have no drugs to blame this time.

I fell asleep last night and dreamed very strange dreams.

In one, I seemed an observer, like I watched a movie.  A freighter, one of those monstrously large ships full of cargo or fluid, needed assistance in the Bering Sea.  But the closest ship was a Russian one, so the Russians sent one of their military ships to the island (which is in US waters, but closer to Russia than Alaska), and their captain was interpreting the message of a strange oceanic creature.  A vast herd of them followed the ship, and one of them attached to it en route.  The creatures were like pterodactyls underwater, with markings like manta rays.  Very odd.  But they seemed to respond to certain names, and one of the names mentioned by the crew of the freighter as eliciting a response from one of the herd was “Donna”.  The one which attached to the boat, it appeared, responded to hearing a name.  I don’t recall the name, but it was a male name.  Toward the end of the dream, I was part of a research team which kept the creature (and what looked like a piece of the ship it attached itself to) in what I can only describe as a garage, and we watched the stimulus-response mechanisms of the beastie.  The last thing I recall in that dream was going up the stairs out of the “garage” and turning off the lights behind me.  Weird.

In another dream, I was in another time.  Earlier, based on the clothes and buildings; 19th century, maybe.  I spoke with a man, and gave some sort of heart-felt tirade about something or other, while he worked on getting a window back together.  It had a long rail at the end of the sash, and wheels on the rail fitted over a slide mechanism.  He worked diligently to get the wheels back on the slide and reseat the window while he interrupted me to tell me I spoke as a dead person, someone moving away from life into death, exactly the opposite of what I should be saying.  Weird.

In yet another dream snippet, I sat in a living room.  A big one, white walls, green carpet, a real Donna Reed special.  Nice furniture, decorations and mullioned windows.  Very cool.  But in it the “daughter” (and this is a dream person, not my actual daughter) is being visited by her boyfriend, who intends to stay beyond the rest of the family going to bed.  I disagree.  I move him toward the door, and manage to do a delicate and quite graceful dance of movements to stay between him and the daughter.  Finally, he’s out the door, but he leans against it in mock anguish as I close the door.  It’s hard to set the deadbolt with his weight pushing against it.  But I manage.  Then I go around and lock all the windows, while my daughter goes laughing up to bed.  WEIRD.

In the last segment of dream I remember, I’m a younger, leaner version of me, with long hair and a dark blat of beard on my chin.  I’m in love with a young woman who, in the dream, I’ve known for some time but have not hooked up with romantically.  There’s another guy, with shorter, curly hair, and he’s in love with her too.  The two of us are waiting for her in a huge public building of some kind, with throngs of people coming and going and milling about.  She sits on a wooden bench near the entrance, and me and the other guy sit with her but not on the bench.  She’s looking at me, and starts to speak, but I still her, saying she shouldn’t say anything.  I just need to be near her, to absorb whatever it is she gives off, and how it makes me stronger, whole, able to manage.  She agrees, and says she can see the tears in my eyes.  The other guy spouts off about how she’s with him, and I’m out of the picture.  And I glare at him and remind him that I told her to be with him, and if I hadn’t she’d be with me.  And I looked at her, and asked if that were true; would it be me?  And she nodded, and said it had always been me.  I nodded, got up, and walked toward the entrance of the building.  As I approach it, two prison guards come to take either elbow and lead me gently out into the bright white of the exterior, to prison.

Weird.  Man oh man, weird.  Beyond my ability to put it together weird.

But, three awesome things about yesterday:

  1. No headaches.
  2. Got all my social media crap talking to each other (with Sherri’s help).
  3. Play time with the kids.

Awesome, don’t you think?

-JDT-

All original content © 2009 DarcKnyt
ALL rights reserved.

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8 thoughts on “Blessings and Weirdness

  1. Damn it to hell, Firefox crashed and took my comment.

    Oh well, I had nothing in the way of analysis to offer. I do like that last dream, though.

    Fal said it was sad. I guess she liked it too?

    • It’s poetic. Bittersweet.

      Well, thankee-sai. 🙂 I guess. Though I had little to do with the dream. So is “thank you” appropriate? Now I’m confused. But thanks for the comment. 🙂

  2. Wow Darc, you don’t even need to watch movies! What great material to work with. Forget analyzing, I would just wrap it around your pen and see what happens.

    I had an awesome day yesterday too, must have been in the air! Lunch with a friend, won a couple of prizes from the local library from the summer reading program, then a delightful dinner out with my youngest son who was in a mood to hear old family stories from his mom. Awesome day!

    Boy, that IS an awesome day. Hard to top all that without winning the Lottery, huh? 🙂

  3. Just another day in paradise, eh? 🙂 Hopefully today brings you much the same joy.

    You have some F’d up dreams, my friend. I think I’m glad I don’t remember my dreams in the morning. BTW, awesome use of the word “blat” to describe your beard. I like when a word resonates like that with me.

    ~k

    Normally, I don’t remember my dreams either. The last couple of times I have they’ve been really strong. So this is a rarity. But they’re interesting! 🙂

  4. You have some very vivid dreams and a remarkable ability to remember them. Me, never that interesting and I remember them when I first wake up then after about half and hour *poof* gone. Wish I had that kind of recall.

    That’s usually me too. Except I forget within the first couple of minutes upon waking, not half an hour. This is rare for me. 🙂

    Congrats on no headaches by the way.

    Thanks!

  5. Woah, those are intense.

    Last night I dreamed along a theme that often haunts my nights: being out somewhere, far from home, with no shoes.

    Well … better than nude, I guess. 🙂 I hate being barefoot so much, that constitutes a nightmare for me.

  6. Punkin only turned 4 last week. You have a few years before you can start worrying. Loved the opening drug line. Was laughing before I got into it. Oh, the green carpet. Why does every 1950s house have green carpet. Did they not have any other color dyes in the 50s?

    HA! I didn’t know that about the ’50s, frankly. This is news to me. It was an elegant, rich green, if that matters.

    Had a buddy 35 years ago. Head pyschiatrist doctor in charge at Cedars Sinai Medical Center in LA who said, write your dreams down. Keep a notebook next to the bed. When you start having such creative dreams you are in a hugely creative life altering time and you need to keeep tract of what your mind is doing. David Sanders would have loved you.

    I have a feeling a LOT of head shrinkers would have a field day with me. 🙂 Not sure what kind of life stage I’m in now, but I’ll take creative if it’s coming.

    As for awesome… I have a card attached to the fridge “There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” Albert Einstein

    Guess we know which group we’re in. Great job!

    Who am I to argue with a man as intelligent as Al? (Einstein, not Bruno.) 🙂

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