(no subject)
Toenails.
Ever had a day when you lean down with a pair of nail clippers and realize that your toenails don't need clipping, even though you swore they were getting too long last night, and that the only logical conclusion is that someone must have cut them while you slept?
I am having such a day.
I sound like... Rosencratz. That's odd, usually I sound like Guildenstern.
A year.
Speaking of which, it's been little under a year since we scrubbed the play. A year ago: COPE just got trounced; I started going out with Erin; I was living in a basement suite in South Van; I was about to be unemployed... again, and was about to try going back to school. That was midway through the period that taught me that life did not progress towards any goal and could, with poor decisions, stall. And with seemingly good decisions, it can still stall. This scared me on a fundamental level. I suppose I've been compensating, keeping busy - sort of.
There are many moments now when I think are you sure this is what you want to be doing with your time? This is a good thing to think.
Dreams.
I had a spiritual dream a few months back where my lucid dreaming was interrupted by The Trickster who sidetracked the dream ("my" dream insofar as I had been controlling it) to give me some advice. I decided that, having at least partiallly resolved the issues with this last dream, I would be happy to see another. I had a few moments in my dreams last night where I slipped into a lucid state, and walked the careful line between controlling the dream and destablizing it to the point where it dissolves.
I had several dreams last night. This one I cannot forget.
I caught a ride with a man (who looked kind of like one of my mom's coworkers, and kind of like this transguy from a video in gender studies) to go East across Vancouver. I fell asleep in the car and when I woke, realized that we were surronded by rolling fields and that the sun was on the left of the car, which meant we were going West, which means that we were way the hell away from where we're supposed to be. This is not good.
There's something dodgy about this guy. Something more than dodgy. Oh shit.
"Excuse me, I think I'd like to get out here."
He smiles and ignores me.
I ask again and he ignores me again.
Ah. I was right. Assuming I live, the cops won't care or won't believe me. Otherwise, they'll find my body in a ditch, and won't care enough to track him down. Maybe some activist will put up a few posters.
So I take a pencil out of my backpack and hold it to his jugular and say "I'd really like for you to pull over now." He does so, but I can see that as soon as I move away, he'll jump me. So I shove the pencil into his neck and beat him with the headrest until he stops moving. I get out of the car at the side of the highway.
Now what? I don't even know where I am, but I have to walk. If I leave him, he might get up and come after me. If I kill him (assuming I haven't already accomplished that), the cops, who wouldn't catch him if he killed me, will toss me in jail. Maybe I should turf him out and take his car.
I climb back in, and feel his neck. There's an erratic pulse. He open his eyes, turns to me and flashes a predator's smile. Shit.
I woke up from this with my heart pounding.
Message: a lot of people live in a state where they live endangered by others, and this is not generally recognized. It's sort of the opposite of the War on Terror (where we're extraordinarily safe, but think we're at risk). This is what that feels like. This idea has been swirling around in my head for awhile now. Lying awake, I was able to reflect on this.
Calling.
I've been hunting around for a calling, and I'm starting to find one, thank God. It has to do with cohousing and community activism. Politics alone wasn't cutting it, as there's a lot of things that you can't do through conventional politics that I want to see happen. I want to make places where people can be safe. Safe from economic cycles. Safe from unemployment. Safe from isolation and rejection. Safe from cuts to social program or medicare. Safe from violence. I want to build something where people can know that who they are is okay, that they will can care for and be cared for by and with other people who share their values and interests.
Archetypes and Identity.
I've had several dreams, but these two are unusual as are both deeply meaningful and seemed almost hijacked off of my attempts at locid dreaming. Two dreams; two archetypes.
We need to protect each other so that we can live
Guardian
Sasha. (although I'm coming to realize that everyone I hear about who has this name is a man - well, anyway)
We need to laugh so that we can know
Trickster
Fox.
Business. Gender Studies. Health Science. Art. Activism. Writing. Political. Queer. Fucking. A.
Ever had a day when you lean down with a pair of nail clippers and realize that your toenails don't need clipping, even though you swore they were getting too long last night, and that the only logical conclusion is that someone must have cut them while you slept?
I am having such a day.
I sound like... Rosencratz. That's odd, usually I sound like Guildenstern.
A year.
Speaking of which, it's been little under a year since we scrubbed the play. A year ago: COPE just got trounced; I started going out with Erin; I was living in a basement suite in South Van; I was about to be unemployed... again, and was about to try going back to school. That was midway through the period that taught me that life did not progress towards any goal and could, with poor decisions, stall. And with seemingly good decisions, it can still stall. This scared me on a fundamental level. I suppose I've been compensating, keeping busy - sort of.
There are many moments now when I think are you sure this is what you want to be doing with your time? This is a good thing to think.
Dreams.
I had a spiritual dream a few months back where my lucid dreaming was interrupted by The Trickster who sidetracked the dream ("my" dream insofar as I had been controlling it) to give me some advice. I decided that, having at least partiallly resolved the issues with this last dream, I would be happy to see another. I had a few moments in my dreams last night where I slipped into a lucid state, and walked the careful line between controlling the dream and destablizing it to the point where it dissolves.
I had several dreams last night. This one I cannot forget.
I caught a ride with a man (who looked kind of like one of my mom's coworkers, and kind of like this transguy from a video in gender studies) to go East across Vancouver. I fell asleep in the car and when I woke, realized that we were surronded by rolling fields and that the sun was on the left of the car, which meant we were going West, which means that we were way the hell away from where we're supposed to be. This is not good.
There's something dodgy about this guy. Something more than dodgy. Oh shit.
"Excuse me, I think I'd like to get out here."
He smiles and ignores me.
I ask again and he ignores me again.
Ah. I was right. Assuming I live, the cops won't care or won't believe me. Otherwise, they'll find my body in a ditch, and won't care enough to track him down. Maybe some activist will put up a few posters.
So I take a pencil out of my backpack and hold it to his jugular and say "I'd really like for you to pull over now." He does so, but I can see that as soon as I move away, he'll jump me. So I shove the pencil into his neck and beat him with the headrest until he stops moving. I get out of the car at the side of the highway.
Now what? I don't even know where I am, but I have to walk. If I leave him, he might get up and come after me. If I kill him (assuming I haven't already accomplished that), the cops, who wouldn't catch him if he killed me, will toss me in jail. Maybe I should turf him out and take his car.
I climb back in, and feel his neck. There's an erratic pulse. He open his eyes, turns to me and flashes a predator's smile. Shit.
I woke up from this with my heart pounding.
Message: a lot of people live in a state where they live endangered by others, and this is not generally recognized. It's sort of the opposite of the War on Terror (where we're extraordinarily safe, but think we're at risk). This is what that feels like. This idea has been swirling around in my head for awhile now. Lying awake, I was able to reflect on this.
Calling.
I've been hunting around for a calling, and I'm starting to find one, thank God. It has to do with cohousing and community activism. Politics alone wasn't cutting it, as there's a lot of things that you can't do through conventional politics that I want to see happen. I want to make places where people can be safe. Safe from economic cycles. Safe from unemployment. Safe from isolation and rejection. Safe from cuts to social program or medicare. Safe from violence. I want to build something where people can know that who they are is okay, that they will can care for and be cared for by and with other people who share their values and interests.
Archetypes and Identity.
I've had several dreams, but these two are unusual as are both deeply meaningful and seemed almost hijacked off of my attempts at locid dreaming. Two dreams; two archetypes.
We need to protect each other so that we can live
Guardian
Sasha. (although I'm coming to realize that everyone I hear about who has this name is a man - well, anyway)
We need to laugh so that we can know
Trickster
Fox.
Business. Gender Studies. Health Science. Art. Activism. Writing. Political. Queer. Fucking. A.