Tag Archives: nightmare

Morgan Freeman Sundae Special

Last nights dream

Breastfeeding while everything falls apart around me, chaos and destruction. I keep walking with this tiny baby latched onto my breast. I have no idea where I am going yet I am not afraid and I do not hesitate. Men are scrambling for cover, an escape. I keep walking. Booming voices call out orders. I keep walking. There are explosions in the distance and the not so distant. A plane takes off near me, people are running for the door trying to climb aboard and falling out as the plane takes flight. Fences are being erected on all sides of me and are being torn down just as quickly by the frantic masses. I am oblivious to the mess which surrounds me, my only focus is to nourish and protect the tiny baby with my own strong able body. And I keep walking.

A dream from a few years ago

I was at a carnival and saw a sign that said “Morgan Freeman Sundae Special” and I knew I had to have one. I walked up to the booth and ordered the special. I was handed an ice cream sundae the size of a human head. It looked exactly like Morgan Freeman but it was made entirely out of ice cream and candies, whipped cream and chocolate sauce. It had little chocolate chips for his adorable freckles on his cheeks and his eyes were made out of marshmallows. The chocolate ice cream was cold and delicious and I was especially excited to find strawberries inside his head as the brain! It was the best ice cream sundae I had ever eaten. I don’t remember it having a gold earring like I have recently seen him wearing. I wonder if I accidentally swallowed it?

Hmmmm….

I haven’t had a silly dream in quite a while. I used to dream about ridiculous stupid shit all the time. I have written down thousands of dreams starting from when I was about 7 years old. My earliest dreams were those of cartoons, like a variation of Scooby-Doo and Sesame Street. Grover joins the gang and Scooby gets jealous, shit like that. I also began having nightmares (night terrors) around the same age or earlier. I still have them and it scares the shit out of anyone near me when I wake up with a scream. I never remember what I am dreaming about when I have a bad nightmare, I really don’t want to know what could possibly be that horrifying.

So, where did my silly dreams go to? Is this what it really means to grow up, to be an adult? I dream about awful shit and weird shit, but no silly shit, like eating Morgan Freemans head or Michael Myers as an interior decorator who has an unfortunate way with blood that his clients find a bit off-putting but are too scared to complain about. Or Ricky Ricardo joining a “Biggest Butt” contest and all the antics of Lucy and Ethel trying to enhance his rear while stuffing ice cream and butter into his mouth. I miss the nights where I woke up laughing from my dreams. Seriously, nothing beats the shit out of laughing in your sleep so hard that you wake yourself up.

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Filed under I am Pregnant, I dreamed..., I remember, Something that happened

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.

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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.

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

Groundhog Day Funeral Home

I had nightmares all night long, at least it felt that way. I awoke in the middle of the night; out of breath, shivering, soaked in sweat and completely disoriented. The only thing I could manage to do was to stumble into the kitchen and devour three Fiber One 90 calorie brownies. My god I am regretting this decision now (about eight hours later). As I calmed myself with chocolatey cardboard goodness I attempted to remember just what had caused this reaction. My worst nightmares I can rarely remember but I was finally able to put some pieces together. I was at a funeral home making arrangements for my Father. It went down pretty much the same way it did in reality, the total cost was even the same. The reason this was such a horrific dream was because I usually dream about my Dad in a much different way. We hang out, talk, smoke cigarettes, just shoot the shit. It always feels so real that I wake up feeling as if I had actually spent some time with my Dad. So what the fuck was this? He was just dead and I was going through all those awful fucking motions again of notifying family and friends, paying for the cremation, planning the memorial service, even the writing of the obituary notice. This may have been the worst night of sleep/torture I have ever experienced.

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Filed under Feels like Sunday, I dreamed..., I remember, Memories of Dad