Tag: dreams

A vivid dream

You were in my dream last night. My brother had told my mom and I that my sister was talking to you, seated across from one another at a small dining table in what seemed to be a restaurant, on an outside patio. My brother, mother and I were seated in a dining booth. I can’t remember if my father were present.

I walked over to your table, and somehow got the impression my sister liked you more than I did. I approached you meekly, as we’ve been noncommunicative for far too long, and I worried you were still cross, and continue to urge me to forget you. But you were your true self–your best self–and just as kind to me as the moment we began texting. You were funny, smart, charming, appreciative, and sympathetic.

I may have mentioned the argument you initiated, the one I didn’t want to end until it had graduated into a compromising moral. You may have apologized, may have said it was a rough time at that moment, and you don’t hold it against me. I may have even seen you take out your phone, find my name in that messaging service, and remove the block on me. All or part of that could have happened, but I’m uncertain; you know how fuzzy dreams can get.

Then we walked along a field, and I think my family accompanied us, loosely. You began to look different. Your hair got longer, and you wore it in a bun at the back of your head. Then your nose got crooked. Then maybe your beard grew out, maybe your skin lightened or darkened–I don’t fully remember, it was a dream. I felt unsure if you were the same person, even though you were still handsome and had a similar personality. I was unsure if I could recognize you as the same individual. Then the dream ended.

I don’t know what this means, but it made me hopeful that you might be thinking of me, missing me, and forgiving me, maybe changing for the best. To certify this optimism, when I got dressed this morning, I put on the same shirt I had worn the last time we met in person.

Dedicated to someone

A year ago today, you told me that you loved me, and I said the same. I was surprised that I was brave enough to admit it aloud to you and myself.

Now, you haven’t talked to me in several months, and denied me any access to reaching out. I was very depressed and confused about this at first, but I think I understand now. My love is very intense, as is my trust and reliance in you. It can be very intimidating and overwhelming. You cherish it sometimes, but other times it is too much for you to bear. You don’t have all the answers, you can’t mend the source of my upset into a tidy, compact package of resolution, and neither could I with your problems. But I admitted it. You sometimes get tongue-tied and feel neglected, but aren’t honest enough to admit when I intimidate you. I wish you could, and you worked on it for a while, but it seems you’ve given up once more. At least as it relates to me. I hope you can develop the decency to be transparent in all your other relationships.

The distance is also a pain. I’m sorry for seeking your captivation at unusual hours when you are unwilling to entertain my banter. Again, please tell me when you are uninterested in talking. I would understand.

I hope we meet again one day and are able to talk cordially and kindly like we used to. I know you want me to forget you and move on, but I still love you. But I recognize the burden my love may bring. I know it’s a lot to process, but please know that I don’t say it to pressure you into confronting it now. I just say it out of my heart. You, of course, are still unsure. You don’t seem to know where exactly you want to reside, what exactly you want your career to be, or how exactly you want to care for your emotional wellbeing. Please take some time to discover yourself. I love you always. Good luck and God bless you. Happy new year.

Fleeting Swarms

Part of the Isolation Journals. Day 38. Prompt by Hedi Jaouad. https://bit.ly/3bplJu8

My amber pendant with flies encased.

Dreaming amid the Covid-19 pandemic has been often. The dreams are too weird. I remember getting emotional and quizzical, but soon after I wake I can’t form any narrative of what happened and why. What’s been more memorable, however, are my lucid or paralysis dreams. I’m not entirely sure how to categorize them.

These dreams happen in my own bedroom, and pretty much exactly how it is currently. This bedroom used to be the master bedroom, but we got an addition on the house, so my parents moved into the new bedroom, my sister and I moved into their previous one, my brother moved into our previous one, and my brother’s previous room has become a strange menagerie of clutter. Some of my sister’s clothing, perfumes, and plushies, an old rocking chair, our dog’s crate… My sister had expressed interest in moving out of our shared room and into that one, but has not fully materialized yet.

But anyway, these dreams are always in my current area. I am not in my previous bedroom ever, the mess in my laundry basket, on my bureaus, among the bed coverings are always the same as usual, aside from a few augmented visions.

It’s also often in the early morning these happen. I’ve usually turned my radio clock’s alarm off by this time and gone slowly drifting back to sleep. I like to listen to the music, discussion, and news of my program, even if I don’t have to worry about any commute or preparing. Is that strange? Maybe the talk on the radio weaves into my dreams, who knows.

I was lying in my bed, and my dog, Maggie, the Jack Russell Terrier, greeted me. She started running around the bed, covering most spots around me. Oh, I suppose I should share her picture too.

Maggie in her sunny spot.

Anyway, the reason she is running is to chase something. I hadn’t realized what it was, but soon, I see its shape, and peak in between the sheet and comforter. It’s a MOUSE, scurrying all across the bed! I start yelling amid my sleep, encouraging Maggie to work on catching that thing. Even though my bedclothes were unwashed for a couple of weeks, I feared mouse droppings or other debris, like its corpse, may bring even more filth.

Eventually, I get so excited I wake myself up. When awake, I see no lumps in between the covers. I don’t even see Maggie. Somehow, that feeling of things running around the bed, utilizing every spot on the mattress my body didn’t occupy, was an illusion.

Later on, I see a connection to my augmented experience to what’s occurring inside my necklace. I’d worn my amber pendant that sleep. I got it for this past Halloween as a substitute for a costume. On this occasion, I decided to do a more traditional, generic autumnal and spooky look, complete with lots of orange and black. Amber was a perfect gemstone due to their orange tint and their spookiness, as it often contains bug carcasses suspended within the stone. I’ve shown a closeup of both myself wearing it and the sales photograph from the listing.

As you can see, there’s a swarm of action within it, much like the situation that unfolded in my delusion. What could these flies and wasps been doing while they were entrapped in that smooth, fluid nectar? Mating, chasing prey, or just commuting? A multitude of vignettes could have been happening, much like a Renaissance portrait. Yet, we’ll never know what would have happened if the nectar hadn’t hardened and solidified them together. Much like how in my quasi-dream, my conscious awakened before I could see the events unfold in the great chase. I’m not sure about the bugs, but if my dream had continued, Maggie definitely would have caught the mouse.