I've always dreamed vigorously. Here's to savoring my minds inexhaustible avenues. Here's to having as much energy as my imagination. So I'll smoke and let my fingers do the talking.
I watched Trainspotting with Kevin last night (or technically the night before since we are currently 3.5 hours into Sunday, I'll clarify by telling you that this dream happened Saturday morning to be exact). I had a dream that I was on the run, for some reason, I had done something reprehensible and the entire world was on the lookout for me like they were for the scummy fucks that bombed Boston (may we take them out ever so slowly now that we have found them). Anyways, the world wanted to get their grubby paws on me and were searching confidently, zeroing in. Somehow I found myself in a thick woods, of tree's that swallowed the sky and shot so high above you that you couldn't fathom that they ended at all. The sky was a far cry from the limit. As I said, I was on the run, like a wild animal somewhere in the middle off NOWHERE I found a house. I made my way inside and came across two blonde toddlers, girls with ringlets. They were beautiful, and so very small that they couldn't much talk. This was a good thing in my dream I remember, because I could tell them not to tell anyone they'd seen me, or tell anything at all. I tried coaxing this fact to them with a hand upon one of the girls heads. As I am trying to convince them of silence, the grandmother comes about the house, and I dash into a back room to hide, but she see's me. She is weary of my presence but tries to keep her calm and as she makes her way to another part of the house I know intuitively that she is alerting the authorities and calling me in. For some reason I am in my little sister Leahs room I realize, and there is my dresser from my current room in front of me, and its filled with my sisters clothes. In one drawer I know somehow that there is a clean pair of black jeans and a black top, so I change my clothes in an effort to switch up my appearance and better disguise my identity. I make a mad dash from the house, out a back door and careen crazily through this forest. I remember being terrified at the realization that I was going to get lost because I had absolutely no idea where I was, and no way of knowing where I was going, or how to "get away". The authorities were close, and I broke crazily through the heavy woods, I ripped through tangled low-hanging vines that weighted higher tree branches, I weaved through tree trunks, and remember falling into a swamp like body of water. A giant catfish gulped me up, so I stood up, and undressed myself from its mouth like I was pulling a tight dress down to my feet. I make it to civilization, a city or town somewhere that resembles the suburbs in Oregon in which Mark Shaulskiy's parents lived. In my dream I am in the suburbs and it is early morning, the sun has broke the mountains from sunrise and continues on it's daily route. This visual, and a lot of this scene reminds me of when Mark and I had planned to rob his parents safe, and had journeyed all the way to their home just to not be able to do what we came to do. It was so early in the morning when we finally gave up and ventured precariously back to my mother's house. Back to my dream, I find a road, and see a big truck with the back open, so I hide away inside to catch a secret ride. The driver uknowingly stows me away to help me along in my escape. When he finally stops he opens the back door and I hop out, but he seems more surprised that someone was back there, rather than seeming to recognize exactly who it WAS that was in the back of the truck. I run out and wind up in hallways, white hallways like in a school but this place has a company feel, a well kept warehouse, and its just hallways of doors to storage rooms. I go into a room, its got minimal light through closed blinds. The perfect amount of light where you can see the dust floating peacefully around in the soft suns rays that manage to peek through. Here in this room I have a mental narrative of Kevin explaining, how a room should be set up to be successful at what I'm trying to do, which is set this room up for some reason, not to stow away there but for weird reason I think I was trying to find some serenity, simply. And I started with making the room mine, so I picture BleuBleu's mural on the blank wall I'm looking at and Kevin's words are that I need a single chair, because the right seating is important, and that it MUST have a back (and I remember arguing with that logic in my head, "well of COURSE, otherwise it would be a stool right? not a chair..and I don't even HAVE a stool here to use so it's gunna be a chair obviously) hahah. Anyways, I remember vividly seeing the profile of kevins face, with bleubleu's mural contrasted in the background behind him (the one from the vid from his apartment) and he's explaining now that I need a t.v., one that is not plugged in and that I must make sure that it doesnt work (and for some reason I get anxious and Im walking around with this old tv in my hands mumbling to myself trying to remember if he said it SHOULD or it SHOULDNT work.."he said SHOULDNT right? but shouldnt it work if im gunna HAVE a tv?"...I'm starting to lose whatever calm I was able to afford, and at this point I'm realizing they are definitely going to catch me, once and for all. I head outside, back where the same truck that I stowed away in before, is parked, abandoned again with the back open as it was before and as instantaneous as I walked out there were helicoptors and cops with guns and dogs. I remember knowing that the dogs were in the warehouse smelling me out so I made a vain attempt to escape being captured, just to walk into the inevitable capture anyways. I raised my hands slowly above my head, elbows cocked above each of my ears, and assured them I understood their requests and I remember yelling to the police over and over, "I am going peacefully! Hey, I'm going peacefully! Everyone calm down, I'm not putting up a fight.." And I laid myself down on the ground in surrender and my dream ended before I could remember them actually handcuffing me, or taking me to a cell or anything like that. Quite the dream! I was just revising something else I wrote recently and in the middle of reading this totally unrelatable piece, my entire dream started coming back to me in full detail. Kevin mentioned, like I said, that I should write my dreams down. I do, and I have, but I don't take care to maintain their memory like I used to, and the sad/unfortunate fact is that I seem to dream less since I've moved here to Tucson, and SPECIFICALLY since I got clean almost three months ago, so I miss dreaming. And it might be the case that I dream as often, but I just don't remember them like I did before. Cheers to remembering!
-dm.
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