Dream Time: Summer 2020
The Pandemic has completely thrown my day-to-day life in reverse. Between the day trading and constant cable news monitoring, the days go by rather fast. I haven't been to a beach all year. And, the only sun I've gotten since spring has been when I am Middletown - and, only because I have a terrace.
The nights are a different story. They drag on. And, it doesn't make a difference if sleep arrives swiftly or not; I can count on at least three separate cycles of REM sleep followed by heavy dreaming, the last one culminationg around 5:AM. By that time, I've usually spent six hours in bed with my eyes closed, somewhere between wakefulness and a highly charged imagination. It's been a blessing and a curse for as long as I can remember; I was eleven years old before i could sleep alone with the light off.
Two nights ago I had a dream about VRaptor. First time in a very long time. Probably not since he was married. Pale Male's candle-lit Zoom suppers over the summer probably helped dredge up old memories of walking along Broadway in a motley group of thirty-somethings. That's where the dream seemed to be taking place.
It was VRaptor, Me and one other person, a female. She seemed to be an amalgam of his old girlfriends and perhaps a touch of Miss Honey thrown in for good measure.
We came to a fruit stand and stopped for a moment. The watermelon (!!!) was extremely ripe. The open, sliced halves were practically purple. Begging to be eaten on the spot. I tried to get the owner's attention. It was a young-ish white dude, probably not the owner. But, he was the only other person around and he was standing behind a plexiglass booth of some sort, overseeing things.
But, he wasn't paying me any mind, not even looking in my direction. So, when I failed to make any eye contact with him, I gave up and continued walking with my friends. It was only after I had resumed walking with them that the boy called out to me, saying, "I'm sorry for being racist to you!" I tried looking toward VRaptor and friend for some sort of validation like "Did you hear what I just did?", but there was none forthcoming. End of dream.
The nights are a different story. They drag on. And, it doesn't make a difference if sleep arrives swiftly or not; I can count on at least three separate cycles of REM sleep followed by heavy dreaming, the last one culminationg around 5:AM. By that time, I've usually spent six hours in bed with my eyes closed, somewhere between wakefulness and a highly charged imagination. It's been a blessing and a curse for as long as I can remember; I was eleven years old before i could sleep alone with the light off.
Two nights ago I had a dream about VRaptor. First time in a very long time. Probably not since he was married. Pale Male's candle-lit Zoom suppers over the summer probably helped dredge up old memories of walking along Broadway in a motley group of thirty-somethings. That's where the dream seemed to be taking place.
It was VRaptor, Me and one other person, a female. She seemed to be an amalgam of his old girlfriends and perhaps a touch of Miss Honey thrown in for good measure.
We came to a fruit stand and stopped for a moment. The watermelon (!!!) was extremely ripe. The open, sliced halves were practically purple. Begging to be eaten on the spot. I tried to get the owner's attention. It was a young-ish white dude, probably not the owner. But, he was the only other person around and he was standing behind a plexiglass booth of some sort, overseeing things.
But, he wasn't paying me any mind, not even looking in my direction. So, when I failed to make any eye contact with him, I gave up and continued walking with my friends. It was only after I had resumed walking with them that the boy called out to me, saying, "I'm sorry for being racist to you!" I tried looking toward VRaptor and friend for some sort of validation like "Did you hear what I just did?", but there was none forthcoming. End of dream.