Restless past couple of days. There's sleeping, but it's minimal. Just kind of laying in bed rolling around in a state of mental anarchy. Finally, after all this time, it's turned against me, and I have no control over my thoughts anymore.
It's probably because right now I'm like, biologically bonkers. This fluctuating weather is really battering my immune system. Fuck you, February. Pick a twenty degree bracket and stick with it, because I can't deal with the air shouting new things at me whenever I step outside. "Fifty degrees! Twelve degrees! Thirty-two! Fifteen! Forty!" Shut up.
Last night my dreams were all kinds of unhinged yet somehow continuous, united by this insane search for water. It was like, I walked up a road to the top of a hill where a friend was lying flat on his back, and I sat on the curb and we traded whispery secrets about sonnets and fear. Alternately he would pop into backbend and a car would drive beneath the bridge of his back, and then he would lay flat and squeeze into the road and let another car drive over him.
What did we talk about? Was it him, or was it someone else? He said he was falling. As I walked away, he arched up into another backbend and a truck slammed into him, carrying him down the hill, but I didn't even flinch, I was so thirsty.
Then I found a giant glass windmill, which I could only see if I was facing a certain angle. The entire thing would slide into nothing after two steps to the left. I almost didn't see it, but then I remembered my friend told me the water was there, even though it's not the water I'm looking for.
I bumped around the base of it, trying to avoid the swipes of the lattice glass sails that dipped into a shallow winding creek. The water was warm, and slightly salty, and then I noticed a sign on the ground: the windmill was propelled by a creek of my tears. Fucking what?
Drinking those droplets generated by myself was far less fulfilling than I expected, so I picked up my hobo bandana stick (which I didn't have before) and went on my way.
There were more interjections. In my dream, I wrote a blog, talked to a broken car. I think. So odd.
Then I followed a squirrel for awhile (this is the part that really, really shakes me. Because of previous correlations. Seriously. Fucked up.) until it started to glow, and flew away. I stared after it and kept on walking right off a cliff and down a waterfall.
And then I woke up.
No, it was more like: then I sat up, completely exhausted as if I hadn't slept at all.
...
16 comments:
Damn. That'll take a lot out of you.
FUCKING AWESOME.
"the windmill was propelled by a creek of my tears."
Isn't life always?
I can't even believe I'm about to write this but...
A bandana hobo stick and a glowing squirrel are not a solid replacement for sleep.
Awesome? Yes.
Perhaps consider waking up for a drink, eh? Or a theraputic shag.
Damn. Got shagging on the brain today. Am worried over your squashed friend, however. Do check on him.
errrrrrrrgh! I'm going through the SAME thing. Disturbing!
Here's how I know I focus on the wrong things: halfway through, I wanted to say, "The hobo bandana stick is called a 'bindle.'"
Also, I think Hieronymus Bosch is painting your dreams. Mine just involve mundane things, like trying to save documents as pdf files. No wonder I sleep so well - who wouldn't want to buy a ticket to that thrill ride?
A cougar?! Seriously?
A gal decides to fuck a college guy and she's a cougar? Well, not the first time someone from blogland though I was preditory. Must be the leopard print panties...
Water is a powerful spiritual symbol in dreams. I'll refrain from going all Freudian on you, but I dream about it a lot.
I've been having some fucked up recurring dreams lately about a haunted house. I experience a weird phenomenon called sleep paralysis, so when I wake up from nightmares I can't move (or scream) for a couple minutes and it freaks me out and I can't fall back asleep. But I digress.
That's a pretty amazing dream-there's a lot in there. Hope the weather settles and your brain lets you get some good sleep!
So what does it mean if Renal Failure characters start showing up in your dreams? Like Tag Larkin or Ninja Vicki?
Omigod, did you "accidentally" drop some acid before you went to sleep?
Wait you're a hugs not drugs girl, right?
Gypsy: Fucking tell me about it. It's exhausting.
Derf: But isn't it depressing, like, "Seriously? My sadness is running the show?"
Boomer: Truer words have never been spoken. And I could say that to you every day, because every day you say something that is even more true than whatever you said the day before. (Oh, Eloquence, you elusive bastard. Someday I'll say things with lyricism.)
Mia: Come to think of it, I haven't had a drink before work in months.
Mongo: I'm psychic. Haven't you heard?
Pistols: Okay, Mister Omniscient At Dawn, why don't you point out some more things I inadequately label? Nevermind. Don't. And it would be way less eerie too, if I didn't literally have a postcard of The Temptation of St. Anthony on the wall next to my fucking bed.
Cougar: Well, I obviously cannot guess your age from your writing. But since it bugs you so much...yes. I'm sticking with cougar.
Mount: That is fucked. I rarely have nightmares. They're always a journey and surprisingly cohesive.
RF: What makes you think I don't dream about Tag Larkin? Love that guy.
Flora: In the end, yes, but every once in awhile I go all Michael Phelps.
Not bothered, Rassles. Surprised. Cougar it is then. Should have a card made up. Perhaps I get special discounts at Pricilla's and didn't realize.
(Psst: Rassles - I was noting the fact that I'm such an ass that when someone's telling me some story of emotional pain, I instead focus on letting that other person know I know the word 'bindle,' what with it coming up all the time in casual conversation. So I was mocking me, not you.)
(Pistols: I was kidding as well. Sarcasm has not been on my side lately.)
February sucks. Northern hemisphere or southern hemisphere, February sucks.
I´m sleeping like shit these days too. I wish my dreams were all surreal like yours though. Mine are too real and I wake up all freaked out and just glad to be awake. Not nightmares exactly, just shit.
The weather sucks. yesterday I was bundled up in coats and scarf and all and today I was in short sleeves sweating ballz.
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