Friday, July 07, 2006

What the Hell?



Okay, so my friend, Laura, has been having pregnancy dreams lately. Fair enough.
My dreams? Fucked up, creepy ghosty ones.

I had one a couple nights ago from which I awoke crying.
I was on something like a cherry picker in the alley behind my parents' house in Oak Park, and my cousin, MaryKay, was with me and another presence unidentified. The sky above us looked like it was getting ready to storm heavily.
You know how sometimes when it's already overwhelmingly thunderstorm-y looking, and you can see lower whisps of dark cloud, like they aim at touching the earth? We had noticed a mass of that sort, and MaryKay, ever the smartass, said:
"There ya go: Mother Nature, showing off yet again with her penchant for dramatics and lighting..."
I only know there was another presence on this elevated platform with us, as I recall hearing another voice join in laughing at Mary's comment...

And then I'm looking down at MaryKay, standing below me in the alleyway, and the cloud has come down to her level.
It begins entering the center of her ribcage, and she's just frozen, looking down at it and gasping airlessly.
Now I'm down at her level, watching this dark thing taking its time, snaking slowly and evilly into her, and I want to help, but am afraid to make it aware of my presence, lest it turn on me. I felt so helpless and stupid...
********************************************************************************************************************
And then last night was like a horrible B-movie come to life.
I was helping a friend move into an apartment, which she said "had some quirks"...
There was a closet of some sort, like the big ones with trifolding, slatted doors, through which this hideous old zombie-devil lady kept sticking her head every time I walked past. She was corrosion, she was Death, and I even remember the smell.
Somehow a group of teenagers got into the apartment, and they were zombies... or something. I mean, they were all decaying, but their purpose wasn't to eat organs or brains or anything... it was more like they just wanted to share in the futility of keeping this planet going. They were retardedly perky about it, too:
"No, really! End of the World! Tomorrow!"
"Have you REALLY thought about why you want to live?"
"My uncle is dead, and he says it's just fine."

I find myself atop the building, looking for higher places to climb to get away from this, and a guy comes out on his fire escape, asking me if his father wants him to be there. I ask him where his father is, to which he says, "Oh. Dead."
I say, "It's a beautiful day. Let's see the sun rise", to which he replies, "so then he DOES", and climbs up with me.

And we wait, it seems, for the end of all things.
*******************************************************************************************************************

Damn. So hard to describe the shit that goes on in the sleep-state. I know I haven't been watching too many scary flicks or anything like that. Perhaps I've been keeping up with the news too much? I DO know I am concerned with the health of family members as of late... and also I've got too much time on my hands.

Damn hands.

5 Comments:

Blogger Laura said...

Did that evil-zombie woman smell like the GlenArt Theater?

7/07/2006 4:06 PM  
Blogger Laura said...

I used to keep a dream journal and have been meaning to start one up again, as it only takes one little memory aide to bring entire scenarios back to life. Vivid and pulsating. Horrific or ecstatic. I am a firm believer in the cathartic and transformative possibilities of our dreamlives, if only we choose to avail ourselves of the unfettered truths they present to us. They tell us things we resist hearing, show us things we have blinded ourselves to in our waking hours.

Our job is to REMEMBER the little fuckers once we wake up and to look beyond the obvious just a wee bit to see what we can learn. There's usually a little jewel hidden in there somewhere.

7/07/2006 4:23 PM  
Anonymous karl said...

Are you sure the zombie woman wasn't Joan Rivers?

We should think about our dreams, but we still need to do something with the day given us in the waking world.

Don't reasess your life too much due to something you possibly ate before bed. But dreams are wild, and you two have some of the most imaginative I've heard in a while.


I stopped dreaming entirely when my real life dream of becoming a plus-sized model went up in smoke. Not being a girl or heavy has combined to be a bigger impediment than I originally thought.

Maybe you should relax, and take a few days off from posting, and have oh...say...Bilja fill in until you feel like yourself again? :>D
Seriously though, hope your family is in good health again soon.

7/07/2006 4:45 PM  
Blogger Lorelei said...

Thanks, Karl... Bilja will be in soon to be of the comic relief, no?

And yeah, Effie--

I suppose chicks are the onlies who focus on the relevance of dreams/nightfrights. Us and gay dudes, anyways. It's been quite a while since I've had disturbing thingies going on in my night-head; however, one of the basic rules of that sort of shit simply means is that my personal life is in flux.

You know, changing and the whatnot.
Read it in one of my former roommate's Dreamy Enterpretation Crap-Book.

So... I totally agree, you Effie Laughmonger. I do actually have a journal from when I lived with my sister in Skeedaddle (in the hauuunted basement), and have a couple humdingers I mebbe shall present soonly.

7/07/2006 5:53 PM  
Anonymous karl said...

Ye Gods! So you're saying THIS dream was one of the tame ones?

Woman, whatever you do, don't open that dream journal!!!

7/09/2006 12:47 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home