Dreams V. 

For the last year of my college career, I had a crush on a boy. I say “had” because I’m still very fond of him and care about him quite a bit, but these feelings are based more in friendship than in “crush” mode, which is why the following dream is very, very strange to me.

He and I were sitting across each other on a couch. We faced inward, our feet touching. It was nowhere we’ve been before  - not a couch at his place or mine. We were seated next to a large window; sun was coming in. It was cozy and comfortable but on my end there was a distinct feeling of waiting, of wanting something to happen and thinking it might but not being sure if it would.

We were chatting and everything was very comfortable when all of a sudden he reached over and caressed my breast. It was very deliberate and really quite forward and I wasn’t sure how to react. I protested. He gave me a look and asked me what I would prefer. I, blushing, told him that I prefer it if that happens when I’m with someone, not just messing around. 

Face burning, I returned to my book. The tension kept building. He moved to the side of the couch so he was leaning over me, and began to kiss me - on my forehead, on my cheeks, until finally I turned my head to kiss him full-on.

What was strange was how much I wanted it. I was embarrassingly into it despite the conversation we had just had and how clear it was that he was using these kisses to get what he wanted. And as he slid his hands down, I felt so used and sick and awful, but still so thrilled to be kissing him.

He pulled away and sat back down. After a moment, he looked at me and told me he knew I had liked him for so long, but he wasn’t interested.

It was a horrible combination of feelings that stuck with me as I woke up and stayed throughout the day. 

Ugh.

i just took a nap 

I dreamt that I was at a party full of punctuation marks; commas and exclamation points were floating by me in a black and white animation.

All of the punctuation marks were bold. As they found other people and began hooking up, they turned italic. I didn’t really notice this at first, but all of a sudden I looked around and everyone was italic but me.

Dreams IV. 

In other news, it’s really confusing to fall asleep at your crush’s house, have a really vivid dream about hanging out at his house, having him hold your hand and kiss your shoulder, after which you proceed to make out with him, and then wake up at your crush’s house and realize that none of it was true.

Dreams III. 

We were in a desert. Not really a desert, I guess, but a small town surrounded by it. A young black woman and I were taking care of a baby - my little brother Doug (who is now 17, but in this manifestation was a baby). There was a man in the town whose sole purpose was trying to take Doug from us. 

He gave us poisoned ice cream - it had little green vegetable-looking bits in it, so I pushed mine to the side, but the other woman ate them. He then told us it was poisoned. The young woman had been carrying Doug at that point, and she handed him over to me because she was about to vomit (and then did). I sat down on the ground with Doug against my knees and just rocked back and forth, saying, “Baby, baby, baby, you will never, ever know how much I love you.”

And the intensity of that feeling was powerful, strengthening (and is causing me to tear up even as I’m writing this). I knew that no matter what, I was going to protect him from whatever came. 

Later, the man tried again, threatening us with a purple gun. The gun squirted water, but it was like a fire hose - so somehow it could kill. I was still holding Doug. The man made us follow him to a shack of some sort. It had a large mahogany desk and light blue wooden walls. The man shot the other woman. She didn’t die, but she lay down on the ground.

I handed Doug off to my mom (and Glenn, who were standing to the side watching) and I tackled the man with the gun. He tried to shoot me, but I forced his hand against the wall, where he kept firing. Water just squirted against the wall uselessly, dripping down the wall onto the floor. Eventually he went unconscious. 

I walked over to my mom and Glenn. They congratulated me on beating the man - “Way to go, kiddo! Smart thinking!” - and my mom handed Doug back to me. 

Again I sat down, set Doug against my knees, and said, “Baby, baby, baby, you will never, ever know how much I love you.”

dreams II. 

I lived in a very fancy mansion but I didn’t quite belong there. Everyone around me was much more prim and proper than I was. I didn’t understand. Farrah Fawcett was selling art and her autobiography and telling my mother dieting secrets that I knew she would ignore straightaway. 

I went outside with the house’s accountant or financier or something. I have the feeling I wasn’t supposed to be there, that I was watching something and they didn’t see me. It was a group of men, discussing the fact that they had no more money, and then the financier remembered he had buried some near the mailbox. They start digging.

I blink and a very square hole has been dug. Most of what is down there is bits and pieces - buttons, string, etc. - but there is also a very large envelope. One of the men digging complains that he could have done a better job if only the accountant had spoken to him about proper airtight containers so that dirt wouldn’t have gotten mingled with the money. As they pull out the envelope and walk away, I see shadowy men at the edge of the wood. They seem angry.

Blink and we’re back at the house, except now I am outside. I am the man who was digging earlier. I’m dressed in Shakespearean costume, and I’m not sure if that’s because of te time period or because I’m putting on a play. I remember that he/I was wearing this before, while the financier was wearing a suit and tie. 

I go to enter the house, but the shadow men block my way. I run the other way - it’s down a hill and around pillars, right by large windows into a ballroom of the house; I see chandeliers briefly as I run - and then I’m blocked again by a shadow-man. They take me and flip me over and stab me in the back. I can feel the knife in my back, an uncomfortable dull ache. I can’t breathe well. I wonder if anyone is going to come and get me. 

A while later I open my eyes. I’m still lying here, still with the knife in my back, and I wonder why I haven’t yet died. I wonder if this is the play I’m supposed to be in.

I wake up.

It’s been a rough morning. 

I could tell it was going to be rough when I woke up to pounding rain, couldn’t make myself get out of bed, then fell back asleep and had several vivid dreams about sharks crushing my body.