Dreams make no promises…

In The Doubtful Guest by flagg10 Comments

Lots of weird dreams lately- I know my animal has been having her share. It seems like all the stress of the current dogpile of issues is finding weird ways to vent itself. Some highlights:

A series of dreams which centered around the fact that my dear friend Thudthwacker was dead. (He’s not, or he’s updating his LJ posthumously). I knew for certain that he was dead in the dreams because I was making smoothies out of his hands and organs and chunks of ice, and choking them down in some sort of cannibal memorial.

My twin and I riding a bus through Kansas until we finally plowed off a cliff into a swamp- I’d find this prophetic if it had not already happened years ago. It was good to see her, though, and at least I was not trying to drink her chunky pureed fingers.

Pushing my way through thick underbrush, branches from tall trees slapping at my head- then realizing that those are not branches, they are the boots of murdered men hanging from the trees. (Even in the dream I recognized how cool this was, and my first thought is “THAT’S gonna turn up in my game…”)

Lots of personal stress concerning my animal- mostly feeling helpless in the face of all the hell she’s had to shoulder through this terrible winter. It all summed itself up with my realizing I was still hollow after my illness- emptied out like a mummy or piniata, and not filling fast enough, not getting stronger fast enough- when I’d try to fix things, my empty, hollowed trunk would just… cave and wrinkle, staving in in slow motion, dry as paper.

It’s been a long winter. I’m tired of being cold, weak and tired, and knowing that I have not been there for the people who count on me. I’m getting stronger, but it’s just not fast enough.