Monthly Archives: April 2018

Bungee Trapeze Dream

Last night, I dreamt that I was a member of an amateur trapeze act. We were going to perform at an outdoor amphitheater beside a frozen lake. It was late winter/early spring. There had been some melting the day before, but everything had refrozen. I remember standing on a rock beside the lake and amphitheater at dusk. Purples, dark blues and blacks overtook the sky as the fading orange of the sun dissipated.

I was attached to a tandem bungee cord with another male performer dressed in white tights and rhinestones. I was dressed in black with a fir mink collar which was soft and warm. We jumped from the rock and tandemed through the air – low, high; low, high. We would take turns landing on the lake. Up, down; up, down. I enjoyed the experience of controlled flight with someone else.

There weren’t very many people in the audience because it was dark and cold, maybe only a dozen or so. At the far end of our guy-wire, I landed on the ice and broke through. I had fallen knee deep before the other end of the tandem came down, allowing me to fly through the air and out of the broken hole in the lake. My partner and I bounced our way back to the rock, having lost our momentum in the fall. We looked like we were taking turns walking on the moon.

My partner and I climbed the rock and the attendants were beginning to examine my legs when I woke up.

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Recent Dreams

I’ve had quite a few dreams recently, so I want to get into the habit of writing them down again. My dog Harley also had a dream last night. Hers was a nightmare, because I could hear her growling and sleep barking and twitching in the middle of the night.

 

They’re Taking My House Dream

 

Last night, I dreamt that I had my Dad and family over to my house for movie night. The house was very similar to my childhood home on Bloomington Ave. I have my car in the garage and everyone arrives. We are starting to settle in when I receive a knock on the door. It is a detective, 5 policemen and the sheriff at my door. They show me a worn and dog-eared summons and complaint along with a writ of eviction. I insist there must be some mistake, since I’m current on my mortgage, but the detective says that this isn’t about the mortgage. The neighborhood across the street had formed an association and sued all of the homeowners on my block to condemn/bulldoze our houses because our homes “represented a blight upon the community and local property values.” This lawsuit hadn’t shown up when I was in the process of buying the house, but that didn’t matter. The judge had agreed, the appeals were over, and now the law was being enforced. We were to vacate immediately and leave everything behind. We didn’t even have time to grab our coats and shoes.

Everyone in the neighborhood was in the street and I could tell that a riot was about to begin. I took the summons, complaint and other paperwork to a friend of mine across the street and down the block. He greeted me at the door. When I showed him the paperwork, his face turned sad. He admitted that he was a part of the association. He had noticed the lawsuit in his association newsletter, but that he had never taken the lawsuit seriously. He thought it was unprecedented; having a judge condemn your neighbors homes for blight, but it happened. I was furious, so I left his home.

It was after dark and the people in the street were gone. My family wanted their coats and shoes back and I wanted my mikick (baby blanket). I told them to wait in the car around the block while I broke into the house. My key still worked and I slowly and quietly moved through the house. I got my mikick right away, but I was discovered on the first floor. The detective shined his light on me and he was with a policeman. I explained that I came back to get my family’s coat and shoes and he let me do that.

The next morning, I went to the bus stop to catch the bus to work. I was wearing the same clothes as the day before. I considered taking the day off to get a lawyer to see what I could do to battle my foreclosure. A friend from real life, Paco, was also with me at the bus stop. Him and the other folks at the stop were barefoot. I had some notepads from the hotel I stayed in and I showed him how to use the cardboard as soles for a makeshift shoe. It worked for a few steps, but then broke.

Before the bus arrived, my Dad pulled up in his car. “Where’s your car, son?” he asked.

“It’s in the garage,” I said, “Oh fuck.”

“Do you think you can get it?”

“I’ll try,” I said as I got into his car.

For some reason, we drove to a local mechanic shop a couple of blocks away from the house. My Dad talked with the mechanic, giving him a vague reason of a sound my car made when it started. He said we would drop it off that morning. The mechanic seemed friendly enough for a middle-aged man with pepper hair. I don’t know what the plan was for the mechanic. Maybe he was trying to get more paperwork or something?

After the mechanic, we slowly drive up the alleys until we come to my house. I can see that they’ve changed the locks already because the key boxes are already on the doors. It is when I’m in the back yard, debating whether to break into the house again or into the garage right away to get the car, when I wake up.

 

Sand Dream

 

On Friday night, in real life, I was invited over to my friend Dan’s house to play poker. He is getting married in two weeks, but I’m not invited to the wedding. That’s okay. I’ve not been invited to weddings before and I stayed friends. Although, in this case, I have yet to meet his fiancé. Poker was fun. I stayed after everyone left and helped clean up and Dan and I caught up on the past year.

That night, I dreamt that I was in Chicago visiting Jazzy. We went and played sand volleyball for a few hours at sunset. Afterward, we walked back to a modern condominium complex where she lived. I was completely covered in sand from volleyball and she was kind to let me shower at her place.

After we both took a shower, I opened up a bottle of chardonnay and we started talking and playing board games. It was nice to catch up, because we haven’t seen each other for about 10 years or something. She owned a store similar to a tattoo store where she worked and where we went for her first tattoo. I vaguely remember her telling me the story of the store and of her time in Chicago. We played Scrabble and she beat me like always. At the end of the night, she went to her room and I slept on her leather couch. That was the end of a pleasant dream.

January 104, 2018

January 104, 2018 –

Gale-force winds buffet my shelter as winter weather lingers on. Astronomically, it is spring, for the sun rises and sets beyond 6 bells. Yet this forsaken land refuses to yield it’s wintry grasp.

I hear the cries of the souls of the mutineers on the winds, and I fancy they have resorted to cannibalism by now. It is already past 2 weeks since the Easter mutiny and I alone have remained, because the captain always remains with his vessel. Alas, the Good Ship Deflatable is inoperable and offers poor shelter to the storm.

I pray for spring and for an abatement of the madness of my crew. May God have mercy on us all and end this winter.