Heavy Dreams

First was a dream about my feces. Yes, a little disgusting. Yet, intriguing. Probably only to me.

I’d completed a bowel movement in the dream. Then spoke to my wife — who was in the kitchen, cooking in this dream — saying, “Hey, look how my feces came out to the left.” She looked but didn’t comment. I continued, “And it’s sticking to the side of the toilet in the bowl.”

Which it was. She and I were able to see it like that because the toilet wasn’t in a bathroom. No; just sitting in the room which was part of the living room/dining room combo. No walls around it. No sinks or tubs. Then I was like, why is the commode like that? There was no cistern, no seat. Just the throat and bowl, leaving me to go, huh. Also, I wondered, why didn’t the feces flush away?

Then…went through the exact same sequence again. Like my brain was looping the dream on repeat.

But then…I began it again, then realized, wait, didn’t I already point this out to her? Yes, I had, I was sure. For it to happen once was bizarre, twice was disturbing, but three times was mystifying. I went over and inspected the toilet closer and noted that it was beside a hallway with steps leading down the front door. Dream end.

Next, though, it got a little weirder. I’d awakened at 4:15. Got up to pee. Was suddenly shocked by recollection of another dream.

I’d gone to sleep thinking about the nasty skunk smell, wishing the skunks would go away. In the dream, I’d gotten out of bed and walked through the house bellowing, “BE GONE.” As I did that, I was thrusting out my hands. Which pushed out energy waves that purged the house.

The dream had been so strong and real that what startled me was the thought, how did I get back to be?

Enough about dreams. There were at least two others recalled but I need to move on to other things.

As a side note, having WordPress issues today. Like, had to start over on this post because WP wouldn’t let me put in a title. Then, it added a line which will not go away.

The day has to get better.

Cheers

A Mystery Dream

It’s a tense movie melodrama. A sister-in-law has disappeared. We recount where and when she was last seen or heard, trying to establish where she might before. Then, we know. Her vulgar ex-husband has killed her. We can see this even though it’s already happened, and took place somewhere else. A race is begun. He’s washing himself, washing his clothes, cleaning out the bed of his truck, ridding himself of evidence, as we rush in to stop him, to find evidence, to call the police, to give them time to arrive.

And there is where it stops.

A Crush of Dreams

What a crush of dreams the night held. First came stupidity.

I was in a broad, lightly-used parking light. A woman with two girls (daughters, I assumed), were on blankets and towels on the parking lot, sunning themselves. All were fair skinned. The youngest was to her mother’s right, with her arms thrust out to either side.

Along comes a red car. It backs up and turns. Although there are scant other cars on this lot, they do this right in front of the threesome. As I do, I realize that they’re going to run over the young girl’s arm.

It’s a little red SUV. I run toward the SUV as it backs, shouting at them to stop. The woman and her daughters look over at me. The SUV’s windows are down. Its occupants all turn and look at me but the driver keeps back, going right over the girl’s arm, rear wheels, front. The girls screams. The SUV keeps going, then turns and pulls forward, away from the girl and me. They’re still oblivious about what has happened. The mother is attending the daughter. I run to the SUV, shouting at them, “What’s wrong with you? You ran over that girl’s arm.” The driver, a middle-aged white woman seems confused.

Without further resolution, I’m in a parking lot. A young woman in bright green shorts is laying on the asphalt. A car comes up and runs over her legs.

I watch with shock. Then, I think, again?

Dream shift. I’m in bed, naked and aroused. A petite brunette woman comes in a blue shirt and jeans. We seem to know each other. We start joking and goofing around, then she begins making up the bed with me in it. I fondle her breasts and ask if she wants to scream. Laughing, she replies, “Oh, why not?” She jumps into bed with me.

Now I’m at home. It’s a weird, disjointed place. I don’t recognize it and I’m struggling to recognize changes. Other people are there, my wife’s friends, apparently. I ignore them as I walk around, looking for my wife, trying to understand the changes that have been put in place. I’ve been working all night; now I want to rest. But she’s decided to have a party. This infuriates me; didn’t she realize that I need my rest and the party noise will keep me awake? Glaring at her, I find a bench to sleep on, pulling covers up over my head.

Unable to sleep, I keep changing locations but the noises keep me up. I went to find my wife to register my complaints but she blew me off.

Next, we’re out somewhere with other couples. A guy asks her to dance. I’m pissed at her because she decided to sit at the other end of the table. I thought, WTF? After dancing with the guy, she gestures at me from across the room, ‘want to dance?’. I ignore her. She goes off to dance with the other guy again. Disgusted, angry, I leave the area and find myself in a cold, dark, wet place.

That’s where it ended.

Oh

oh, you pain me

and you give me joy

and, oh, you make me so happy that I can’t believe my luck

oh, you make me so angry that I could spit nails

and oh so sad that I cry hot tears in the car

and have secret conversations with you in my head

(that’s what makes them secret)

oh, your beauty and intelligence amazes me

and your kindness and sweetness inspires me

and no one could ever have a better friend

but oh, your obstinance and rigidity frustrates me

and oh, how your complaints wear me out

and your drinking and habits enervate me

which shows the truth:

love can’t be spelled without oh

 

 

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