Friday, March 11, 2011

the crowding

For years I've gone to the same place in my dreams, I call it my dream-world. I could draw you a map. I have a house there, and friends who only exists in that world. I have several places within that dream world that I visit, old cities, mountains, deserts. There are trains I ride, fields I roam in. I even know where my locker is at the gym I work out at. Strange since I don't work out in real life.

Lately things have changed in my dream-world (God, writing that makes me sound like I listen to Tori Amos and have faerie wallpaper.) It has become crowded. I noticed it a few weeks ago when one night I went to visit the desert hot springs I go to and all the pools were filled with people, and not people I liked. Last night I went to visit one of my favorite dream-cities, a city similar to Paris but with canals. It was horribly crowded, even the bathrooms were a disaster and people were peeing in corners. I got on the train to get out of town and discovered I was on the quarantine train for people with typhoid. The worst part is there is a cove I always visit. A little natural harbor where I always see dolphins and whales (I know, I know; Tori and faerie). The cove is my favorite part of my dream world, I always feel serene when I wake up after having visited it. A few nights ago I went to the cove and it had been turned into a marine park, all of the dolphins and whales were in shows.

I wonder how all this came to pass, what could be going on in my subconscious to have altered my dreaming so drastically. I've battled lots of insomnia lately. This morning I've been up since 3:30. I don't feel like there is a tremendous amount of stress on my head but there must be, somewhere. Or I just need to make space in my mind, meditate more. Something.

In brighter news I have a poem appearing in a new online journal within a month or so. I'll link to it when it happens. The funny part is that it's a poem I never thought would see the light of day. The content is strongly sexual, to the point of almost being ridiculously sexual, I'm sure some (mom) will say vulgar. I concentrated on the hyperbolic whilst writing it and I guess that made it a winner. Taking risks works.

Yesterday I was looking for something when I came across an old journal from 2008. I only had a few pages filled but one page was a poem. Over the top of the page I had scribbled something about giving myself permission to write utter crap. The poem is about 18 lines, rhyming couplets. The meter is actually good, and some of the lines aren't terrible. I like when I surprise myself.

The other evening I surprised myself just by being silly. I was sitting on my balcony, looking at the moon when I decided I would try to describe the night to myself in the most ridiculous way I could. I play games with myself, the remnants of a lonely childhood. I came up with a silly line about the way fish in a net shine and then a great idea hit me over the head. I've been stuck on a short story for months, I couldn't decide on the voice. Being silly saved me. Thank you, brain.

I heard this song in a bar last night. I agree.

1 comment:

manana said...

i have a dream-world, too. an old house w/out enough space, a mansion w/ secret rooms, and the highway. always the highway and aliens and snow and car crashes. there are times when, in dreams, i wonder if that's not my "real life", and not this queer existance. then i really do wake, and i see the box of rice chex left on my desk the night before, and i realize that that's the secret to "real life" - continuity...