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:
- No headaches.
- Got all my social media crap talking to each other (with Sherri’s help).
- Play time with the kids.
Awesome, don’t you think?
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