Tag Archives: dream

Freeway fist fight

Nightmares all night long

Doors falling off cars on the highway, hanging, suspended above the road.

Man killing woman, behind closed doors, the sound of flesh against flesh.

The impact of body against wall, crashing down around me.

I try to gather the birds but they keep changing, hummingbirds become parrots, songbirds become pigeons.

“Walk home, you know the way.”

I make my way through a crowded ghetto, men with guns in each hand and women with babies dangling from their necks like jewelry. A dice game takes over the sidewalk, nowhere to walk, “Bitch, watchu doin here?” Dark clouds hide the sun, acrid smoke burns my eyes, stifles my breath, don’t look concerned, be cool. An intersection filled with Baptist Sunday service church goers in gospel regalia, purple satin flowing in nonexistent wind.

“Green light, Bitch.”

Interpretation (inspiration)

Freeway, fighting, cars, chaos-

Yesterday I saw a car pulled over on the freeway and 3 boys were outside of the car on the shoulder, 2 of them were fighting, I mean seriously fighting. One of the boys was getting fucked up. I thought for sure the one boy as going to shove the other into traffic. Obviously we didn’t stop nor was anyone else stopping to assist so I have no idea what happened. I wonder if all 3 of them got back into the car and drove home? Maybe this was a normal afternoon for them, leave to pick up some groceries for dinner and stop on the freeway for a fist fight, makes perfect sense.

However, the fighting in my dream was going on between my parents, memories of which have scarred me for life as well as their 7-year-old lab mix that I inherited. For years everyone thought that she had epilepsy because she would have violent seizures pretty frequently. She was prescribed large doses of mood altering and brain disrupting medications to treat this disorder. After my Dad passed and she came to live with us she had a couple of seizures which I chose to treat with a little less medication and a more calm atmosphere. Gradually I weaned her off of all her meds and she hasn’t had a seizure in about 2 years. She didn’t have epilepsy she had parents that fought constantly and tore the house down around her.

Birds-

In chaos we try desperately to cling on to something familiar, even as the familiar becomes less and less so.

Ghetto-

Put on a brave face through the worst of the shit and you will eventually cross the street.

I truly feel that I have “crossed the street”, I am in a better place mentally and emotionally than I have been in years. But I will never fully escape the tortures that I have endured on the other side of the street, nor would I want to.

On a side note:

Whenever I wake up from an awful fucking nightmare, the kind that leave me breathless and shaking, I shove ice cream into my face until I am calmed. Only now I digest it, fucking weird.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under I dreamed...

Hideous

Today went to shit as soon as I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror. I occasionally get a hideous rash that begins on my neck and travels up and around my face. Last night it began to appear and by the morning it had staked its claim on my entire face, clusters of tiny red bumps that itch and burn. This shit ruins my fucking life; I can’t leave the house, I can’t wash my face and I can’t put makeup on. My skin is so uncomfortable that activity of any sort is really out of the question, so I go back to bed. I wake up, look in the mirror, yep, I am still a monster and I go back to bed. I shut all the curtains and stare at the dark walls, trying to pretend that today doesn’t exist. My dreams are filled with anxiety and frustration. In one scenario I am late for an important dinner being hosted by my dead Grandfather. I am frantically trying to get myself together but I look like shit, my hair is a knotted mess, I stink like ass, my dress is wrinkled and no matter how much makeup I slather on my face I look like a fucking red-faced monster.

At one point today a delivery came which I was alerted to by the hysterical barking of my dog, Choe. I wait for the truck to leave and hesitantly crack the door open. At my door is a $300 package of facial products and makeup that I had ordered a week ago, good quality hypoallergenic products. I am pretty sure that it is cheap ass drugstore makeup and cleansers that cause this rash in the first place seeing as how I have super sensitive skin. So, at least once my swollen beast like face calms down I will have decent makeup that won’t lead to any further facially offending episodes. Unless of course the rash has nothing to do with makeup and my skin never goes back to normal again. In that case not a single person will ever see me again. Yes, I am the vainest fucking person I know.

Leave a comment

Filed under Feels like Sunday, I dreamed..., Something that happened, Uncategorized