And now i’m lying on a floor in a very narrow kitchen. Galley kitchen. The floor is made of wooden planks. The stove and oven is at my back, cupboards are in front of me. There is a glass door on the wall closest to my head that leads out into a lawn. Immediately to the left of the door is another solid wood door that goes to the basement. Next to the door, to the right, is a short wall with a window. In front of the window is a small square wooden table for two. There’s a man sitting in the chair on the side of the table furthest from the door. He’s reading a newspaper and doesn’t notice me (or is ignoring me). In front of the door, there are many layers of wooden planks over a hole. I can see something white coming up from the dark depth of the hole towards me. I’m afraid but don’t move away. A little baby ‘possum pokes its head out and comes into the kitchen. It is SO cute i can hardly stand it! I pet the little head and scratch the little back. It loves the attention. Another one pops out from another opening. I want to pet this one too but it’s growling and showing its sharp little white teeth. I move very slowly (opossum slow) and pet the head anyway. I don’t think it’s sick but i’m worried that if it bites me i might have to get rabies shots. Just as i’m thinking that and looking for any kind of symptom of rabies, it bites the fleshy part of my hand under my thumb. I hold very still and realize that to avoid getting rabies shots i’d have to capture the little creature and turn it in to be killed and tested. I can tell how the bite feels that the skin isn’t broken, the ‘possum is just sort of holding my hand in its teeth like a dog does when it plays. I decide not to tell anybody and let the ‘possum go. I can see that there a several more ‘possums in the cellar and don’t want any more to come inside the kitchen. I begin to move the planks around to close the gap. The man at the table speaks and tells me that there are other exits to the outside because he can see some of the baby ‘possums outside in the yard. I look out the glass door and can see them too. It’s very green outside. Green lawn, big summer time hard wood trees. The little ‘possums look very white against the lawn and i hope they don’t wander too far from their nest and wake up with that thought.
Last night i had disturbing dreams. I only remember the end of one. Three other people and i are in a motel room (we came in from outside but i don’t remember what we were doing or where we were – someplace with shops). There are two queen size beds and the usual furniture in a motel room. I’m trying to pack up my stuff because it’s time to go. I’m not sure if i have all of my things and when i turn to check under the beds i knock over a cowboy boot that was standing next to the bed. The man to whom the boot belongs mutters “bitch” under his breath. He’s scroungy and rough looking. A biker maybe? I set the boot upright again and apologize to the jerk. I REALLY do not like him. The other two people in the room are all packed and ready to go. Everybody is waiting for me. I put a stuffed toy animal in my backpack with some clothes and then i’m ready too. We leave the room and we’re in a station of some sort and in line for the ticket counter. I think we’re going to take a train and i’m uncertain about going. The other two people are people i know and trust but i don’t understand why this hateful man is with us. I’m trying to tell my friends that we can’t trust this other person and why we can’t but we get to the counter and the ticket man in the blue suit hands us a long string of tickets (the kind you get for rides at a fair or carnival). The first person in our group takes the string of tickets and we follow through the turnstile. On the other side of the turnstile is a table with four tall narrow glasses of dark liquid. Now we’re standing at the table but we’re in a room, like a foyer of a house. We each pick up a glass and drink because that’s the only way we can enter the next phase of our journey. We all drink about half of the liquid from our glasses. It doesn’t taste good but it doesn’t taste bad either. To me it just has a sort of dry nutty chocolaty taste. I drink a little more but it still tastes the same. The others drink theirs all the way and say “it tastes like Pepsi!” I take one more sip and get just a hint of the taste of Pepsi. There’s still probably an inch of drink at the bottom of my glass but i don’t want it. The others have finished theirs so we go through the door and there’s a ticket taker. My companions are talking and laughing about the Pepsi drink. The ticket taker man looks at me and i know he knows i didn’t drink the entire glass of ‘beverage’ and wonder if he’ll let me pass. My companions are walking ahead, creating space between us. I want the ticket man to let me through and begin laughing too. He lets me go and i begin to fly after my companions. I realize i’m tripping my brains out! We’re walking along a hall of fun house mirrors i think. I wonder why my friends aren’t high and i realize that the ‘Pepsi’ at the end of the drink was a part of the elixir that would allow ‘Them’ to keep us under their control. My friends don’t even know they’re tripping and i’m just flying along behind them looking at the mirrors on either side of me, seeing how distorted everything looks and i realize that i’m looking out of windows, not into mirrors and begin laughing even harder because i’m the only one who knows we’re tripping and i love being in that state. That’s all i remember.
Yay! I’ll take a trip any way i can! Flying in dreams (when you’re not being chased by a scary monster) is THE best feeling in the world. Definitely a high that can’t be duplicated. Who was that asshole in my dream? I really despised him and wanted him to leave our group.
From these dreams i think maybe i'm not ready to "arrive" = grow up? Don't want to complete the journey or don't want to continue in a state of blind numbness? Bookshelves empty but for old memories (dried up leaves)? Wonders (baby 'possums) from my subconcious (cellar) are trying to emerge through all my "adult" conditioning (asphalt/boards)? Refusal to finish the glass of medicine (give up my free will) in order to ride the rides that my friends are (conform). Disinterested man reading the paper - sort of a 'ticket taker' of a different fashion? The overseer? Some god-like conciousness that provides me with a clearer perspective and shows me that everything is okay really? My inner dreamer?
Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.
It's getting harder to be someone but it all works out.
It doesn't matter much to me.
Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields.
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