Disconcerting
Ever dream you were on a planet that kept shifting? I’m not talking about major gut-wrenching gigantic vibrating paint-shaker type shifting. I’m talking about watching the neighbors and their stuff slide toward you when the land gently moves from flat to up. I have to tell you, when a baby grand piano is sliding your way, it’s a bit disconcerting.
What possible defense is there against that? With the exception of giant bungee cords, I’m at a loss to know what to do when 1000’s of miles of land is tilting upward…then downward…or sideways. Sideways is the worst because you really don’t see that one coming.
Were there conversations? Yes. Do I remember them? No. There’s something about being in a continual state of abject terror that drains out the memory of everything except for that feeling you get when half the world’s material possessions are barreling down on your position at any given moment.
If you think that forgetting all those Conversations with Dream World is bad you might consider asking, “What is the one, strongest memory from this stupid dream?”
A piano is barreling down on me with a sofa in front of it. Am I thinking, “Oh God! I’m going to die!”????
No. I’m thinking,
“How can that baby grand piano stay so white?”
Remember those Wisk ads from 1950’s (or maybe it was the 60’s and 70’s)? “Ring around the collar, those dirty rings,” the ads would say, shaming the housewife with a PhD in art literature who lost all hope of saving her marriage because she couldn’t get those Earth shattering dirt stains out of her husbands shirt.
Dream world is, quite literally, losing it
and I’m worried about “ring around the apocalypse?”
I wonder if all those lost marriages were the reason so many women embraced tie dye and the hippie generation?
My, BAID (My but alas I digress). I think I’d rather have dreams about being lost than dreams about knowing where I am while the Dream World’s apocalyptic junkyard bears down on my position.
I’ve had it with Dream World. I’m going into my kitchen to make some scrambled eggs and then I’m going to tinkle. 🙂
Freud would have a field day with your dreams of late. Its either your eating spicy food (always gives me fascinating dreams) or its an after effect from booking your trip. Either way its great material! 🙂
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Dreams are the wellspring of my books, the ball field for the not-quite right mind. 🙂
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