27 January 2020

Back to the Eighties

I travelled back in time to 1981. Somehow, my arrival caused a retrograde ripple effect, 'cause I found the 1981 I was in different from the one of the history books. Return of the Jedi had already been filmed and released; Pepsi came in bulbous, peanut-shaped bottles; and global warming had already reached 2020-level severity. For some reason, my physical form kept oscillating between that of Marty and Lorraine McFly.


The dream realigned. I was still in 1981, but I was in my own body and my mother was with me. We were walking through the crowded streets of a big city like Vancouver or Toronto, followed by an Indian woman who was literally just a head with two feet.


We tried to lose the walking head in the crowd, but she kept right behind us. She demanded my mother give her her clothes, so my mother kept stripping off articles of clothing and tossing them behind her.

The dream realigned again. Now I was now in my hometown, in the late '80s/early '90s. The landmarks were different, in keeping with me being in the past, though the architecture recalled the '50s rather than the '80s, with lots of neon-fronted shops.


Then I slipped further back in time, to the 1880s. The landmarks were really different now, the architecture looking straight out of Oz, with emerald green buildings. A train station stood where the local high school would stand inside a century. Beyond the station, where there are trees/hills in real life, was a sprawling sea.

05 January 2020

Mommy, Would You Like Some Sausage?/There Will Be Mermaids

A confession: I don't know how much longer this blog will continue. With my father's death, my mother's chronic hospitalization, my sister's breakup with her boyfriend, four months with a terrible roommate, and ongoing financial difficulties, 2019 was a terrible year for me. My ability to recall dreams has gone to shit this past year, no doubt due to all this stress. It's been over a month since I last recalled a dream in any detail, and even then it was hazy.

What follows are the last dreams I've had worth sharing. Unless my dream recollection improves, they may be the last ones you'll get to read for a long while.

* * *

I was standing in a room with a woman. The white walls were empty, blank save for blue light which created a gradient effect upon them. The woman was a lovely brunette, with long hair which trailed down her back. She was wearing a gray bathrobe. Loosening her robe, she let it down about her shoulders, exposing them to me. Leaning in close, I began kissing her graceful back and shoulders, slowly, tenderly.

Then I was suddenly in my basement. A man I didn't recognize was putting a damp, sausage-shaped pillow up on a line to dry. He told me the pillow represented loneliness and longing.

* * *

What follows is a fragment from a larger dream which, true to my luck, is mostly a blur now.

I was watching a deleted scene from There Will Be Blood. Daniel Plainview had sent his son, H. W., down into a great deep lake without diving gear to build his lung capacity. At the bottom of the lake was a submerged palace. While exploring inside, the kid encountered a mermaid. She was about his age, friendly, with black hair and a pretty smile. I think she had dark brown, almost black eyes and webbed hands, but I may be misremembering.