Wednesday / Day 5

Wednesday, November 5, 2014 – -( +4°C / +39°F – Grey and Gloomy @ 8:15 am here in Atlantic Canada )-

Today is the unhappy anniversary of my niece, Maddy, dying in a fire in Athens, Vermont in 1996. The 5th was a Tuesday, and my mother had a very rough time every Tuesday for a while after that.

I took some photos around 5 pm yesterday, one of the cats had knocked over the box the last of the Halloween candy is in and Moe was sitting there, in the upturned box, sitting on bags of candy, looking proud of himself. I haven’t uploaded the photos from the camera to the computer yet, I might do that later.

Spoiler: The images from the dreams were not visually pleasant, and touch on themes that are quite creepy. Rated “M”?

Dreams: Yes. I had a weird series of not-quite sex dreams. There were news articles yesterday about a teen-aged sex ring in Ottawa, where a woman was arrested at the age of 15 in 2012 and charged with bullying friends and other girls who answered facebook invitations to party – into forced sex for money, Explicit photos that were sent to prospective ‘johns’, and threatening the girls with violence if they told anybody what happened. So maybe that was in the back of my mind when I went to sleep. There was a young-looking, slightly bedraggled woman with dark hair, looked like she was wearing wonder woman underwear- She was sitting on a bench behind a bunk bed, the bench was even with the top bunk. In the dream I realized I was standing, half-naked in front of her and tried to hide that. I was also semi aroused, and much smaller than in real life. She said she could use a little of that. I said I probably couldn’t help her. She said, “That’s enough for me-” and another woman who I couldn’t see told her, “I have a guy lined up for you honey, somebody who knows how to make a woman like you feel really good.” She didn’t look like she wanted anything to do with that other guy, like she had decided that I was the guy she wanted. I was magically dressed, walked over to the bunk bed, she scooted over, I reached for her, picked her up, she was a thin, maybe half sized human, and weighed almost nothing. Besides the wonder woman underwear, she was wearing what looked like golden shoes from the French court days of the Sun King. I set her down. She sat on the floor. I had something sticky on my left foot, looked down and saw what looked like licorice underwear stuck to my foot, I shook it off while the woman laughed, and when I turned around she was gone. There was another woman, who reminded me of one of my sister, Diane’s, girl friends, who would be approaching her late 50’s now. But she looked young, like when she was in her 20’s, and topless, except she looked strange, like she had camel humps for boobs. She told me she really missed me and wished she could see me again. And when I looked around, she was gone. I left that dream and walked into the kitchen here, or a dream land version of it, where Max, the grey cat, was missing part of his face, like half his face had ripped open and was bloodlessly hollow inside. And when I looked more closely, instead of max, this was a light grey and white cat, with his face half gone and I could see up inside his hollow, brainless and bloodless head. I left the kitchen and walked into a very strange world where a statue of a woman was made out of sand, was standing there, talking to somebody, giving orders that sounded like they were part of a very strange movie script. I asked Cathi if that was our friend, Shelley, acting in this grade B movie, Cathi said she certainly had enough talent, but after whomever got finished with the CGI graphics stuff, she couldn’t tell for sure if that was Shelley or not. I then walked into what looked like the bedroom that the wonder woman underwear woman had been in. There was somebody crying in a bunk in a different part of the room. I thought I recognized her from the Post Office, walked over and touched her. She was lying on her side, turned her head, turned her head, recognized me, and said, ‘go away- I’m crying.’ I asked her if she was all right, she groaned and turned over and said, “Oh all right-” and looked a whole lot more like Betty Boop than anybody I knew. But her skin had an uneven, deep tan, she was more or less covered, but one breast was much smaller than the other, her lipstick wasn’t on right and her hair was a mess, “Are you satisfied now? See why I’m crying? They made my body wrong, go away-” And I walked back into the other world kitchen, saw the grey cat that was hollow and broken, and this time Moe, our orange cat was on top of the grey broken cat, and I thought Moe was trying to euthanize the poor cat. I saw blood this time, from where Moe had bitten the cat and tried to hang on until it was dead, and I wondered if the most merciful thing I could do would be to find a way to kill the poor broken cat quickly, if not painlessly.  Then I was watching a double line of very thin women wearing sort of pastel, glowing gowns or robes from Roman or Classical Greek days, and the women seemed completely oblivious to anyone’s presence as they walked in formation, slowly, almost gliding through a room that felt like a caterer’s dining room, with pillars and a wide open dance floor with the dining tables all around the dance floor. As I was waking up, I was thinking all of these dreams were pretty creepy, then I heard the cats whining and wondered if hearing that while I was sleeping had prompted the dreams of the broken cat. ick.

Other: rolling over in bed while Cathi was getting ready for work, I felt like I pulled the muscle attached to my sore rib. Ouch. And I was feeling generally achy all over. I didn’t sleep much yesterday, might have gotten a couple of hours of sleep between ten p.m. and one or two a.m. I drifted in and out and after Cathi came to bed, spent what felt like a couple more hours trying to get back to sleep, with very vivid images from my nano story coming into focus in front of me, filling in areas of the plot that I hadn’t thought about yet. Then, after a scene from what would have to be a totally different volume of the Great UnAmerikan Novel played itself out in front of me, I finally did a bit of an exercise that our friend Allan Greene had suggested, pulling all sorts of daggers, swords, arrows and hooks out of my dream body and bundling them up inside what looked like a mummy, moving that mummy into a vehicle shaped like a Merkaba which then shoots off and up to the edge of the Divine realm (a huge and brilliantly white cloud like radiance at the upper edge of creation?) I did that three times, praying and asking that only positive thoughts, feelings, images and stuff come near me while I sleep. And then I got those not so pleasant-looking dreams? Maybe I’ve grown or evolved to the point where creepy images don’t rattle me like they might have a few years ago?

-Okay, it’s almost 9:30 am, moaning cats distracted me a couple of times, I paused to wonder whether I should actually post this with its creepy images, but I better just post it and deal with moaning cats. Later, If I come to the idea that this really is inappropriate, I might change the post, or write a new one, or edit this down to PG? Is it anything but PG?

NaNoWriMo novel count as of last night : 13,729 words. On track to finish on Nov. 15th? That’s good news. Isn’t it?