nightly day mares
Well it's been odd. Really nice but odd. I don't understand him at all. I thought I did but his barrier is so high up and so thick that I'm not going to even attempt getting past it. He doesn't want to talk and well, what can I say to that? Not much. Nothing actually.
I had an odd dream last night. Perhaps it had to do with yesterday's meetings perhaps with something else. No matter where it originated from it certainly made me very sad and distraught. Perhaps it brought up emotions that needed to surface and be recognised.
The dream took me to Paris but in some distant future.
The city had grown beyond its current limits, stretched beyond its known boundaries but had also become alive from within, in a good way.
The Eiffel Tower stood tall but so did many other buildings. In my dream, I had already been there a few times but this time around the family was there as well. Emily, Katja, mom, dad and others. The dream went on for quite some while but the last bit before I woke up was the most poignant.
Emily told me I was going to break my arm. She was insistent about it. I didn't quite understand what that was all about, whether she meant it litterally or not. We were on our way to the top of a tower, queuing for the elevator. I was with mom and I held some tripod and a bottle of medicine in my hands. A security guy came along and wanted to take the latter away from me. I refused to and told him to go sod off. He was not happy with my reaction and told me to get away from the line to go see some supervisor or to go to some cell to calm down. I refused to and ripped through the crowd to get to the elevator we were queueing up for. I pushed through and so became separated from my family. As i entered the elevator I looked around and saw only unfamiliar and, in some way, dead faces; none smiled, none were expected. I knew Emily was right and that something was going to happen. I felt sorry for having separated myself from the rest of the family yet at the same time I knew it was for the best that they were not with me.
Just as I felt the speed of the elevator going up pick me up the scene changed. Then I, or some other character, was on a fast train heading west from said tower to a place where some odd sound event (concert?) was taking place. They were moving huge loads of garbage that were wrapped in even bigger bags and all of this made sounds when moved. It was impressive and towards the end I was really blown away by the deep sounds. I spoke of audio-orgasms... :D But as the odd concert of sorts ended, I realised something was wrong. Usually in movies or other things the scenes cut back and forth and only when someone dies do the people in question become so absent. So I knew the accident had taken place.
The scene moved to a morgue of sorts where my body lay all broken apart on a table. Next to my covered body stood a professor, at my feet my father and on the side someone else, my brother perhaps. They were not sad, kind of empty. They were discussing various things, amongst them a paper onto which Katja had circled and marked the 26th of some month. They heatedly discussed whether she had actually predicted the date or whether she had been off. The months were in pairs organised vertically. It was either the 26th of August or October.
My arm - and most bones - was indeed broken. Something had happened to the elevator and I had died, along with others. But there I was, dead but my spirit still there, roaming around. I could hear and see everything but couldn't interact in any way. I felt so odd, stuck in between worlds. Stuck on this plane but unable to interact. I realised what a good Life, body and family I had. I wanted to tell my father how much I loved him. I tried to draw a "I <3 U" on the floor but he didn't notice. I tempted to reach into the physical realm and shook a tray of sorts with all my being to get him to look my way. He came into the other room and I opened a small bottle of shampoo and tried to draw the same thing on the floor to tell him that not only was I still here, stuck in between the worlds, but also tell him how much I love him. The figure was sloppy and you could barely understand what it was but perhaps he did. He sat down on the floor and spoke about how this served as a good reminder to be grateful for everything he had, to remember to live each day to the fullest until he would grow tired and go to sleep for good without getting up again. As I hugged him, without him being able to feel it, he looked much older, much like grandpa; his teeth had decayed.
I woke up and cried. So much.
In my night madness, I wished he would have woken up and hugged me. He did wake up but remained in his own world, behind his own wall.
Perhaps it's all this anger at his incoprehensible ways that is brewing in my lungs. Yet he does not speak. Nothing. And I feel like I'm intruding when I ask questions or try to be kind. Silly games.
But it was a great day. Biking, seaside, wind, thunder, sunshine, walking, good stuff. I should just remember to pick more suitable company or then keep to it alone.
I'm confused.
Sad.
I had an odd dream last night. Perhaps it had to do with yesterday's meetings perhaps with something else. No matter where it originated from it certainly made me very sad and distraught. Perhaps it brought up emotions that needed to surface and be recognised.
The dream took me to Paris but in some distant future.
The city had grown beyond its current limits, stretched beyond its known boundaries but had also become alive from within, in a good way.
The Eiffel Tower stood tall but so did many other buildings. In my dream, I had already been there a few times but this time around the family was there as well. Emily, Katja, mom, dad and others. The dream went on for quite some while but the last bit before I woke up was the most poignant.
Emily told me I was going to break my arm. She was insistent about it. I didn't quite understand what that was all about, whether she meant it litterally or not. We were on our way to the top of a tower, queuing for the elevator. I was with mom and I held some tripod and a bottle of medicine in my hands. A security guy came along and wanted to take the latter away from me. I refused to and told him to go sod off. He was not happy with my reaction and told me to get away from the line to go see some supervisor or to go to some cell to calm down. I refused to and ripped through the crowd to get to the elevator we were queueing up for. I pushed through and so became separated from my family. As i entered the elevator I looked around and saw only unfamiliar and, in some way, dead faces; none smiled, none were expected. I knew Emily was right and that something was going to happen. I felt sorry for having separated myself from the rest of the family yet at the same time I knew it was for the best that they were not with me.
Just as I felt the speed of the elevator going up pick me up the scene changed. Then I, or some other character, was on a fast train heading west from said tower to a place where some odd sound event (concert?) was taking place. They were moving huge loads of garbage that were wrapped in even bigger bags and all of this made sounds when moved. It was impressive and towards the end I was really blown away by the deep sounds. I spoke of audio-orgasms... :D But as the odd concert of sorts ended, I realised something was wrong. Usually in movies or other things the scenes cut back and forth and only when someone dies do the people in question become so absent. So I knew the accident had taken place.
The scene moved to a morgue of sorts where my body lay all broken apart on a table. Next to my covered body stood a professor, at my feet my father and on the side someone else, my brother perhaps. They were not sad, kind of empty. They were discussing various things, amongst them a paper onto which Katja had circled and marked the 26th of some month. They heatedly discussed whether she had actually predicted the date or whether she had been off. The months were in pairs organised vertically. It was either the 26th of August or October.
My arm - and most bones - was indeed broken. Something had happened to the elevator and I had died, along with others. But there I was, dead but my spirit still there, roaming around. I could hear and see everything but couldn't interact in any way. I felt so odd, stuck in between worlds. Stuck on this plane but unable to interact. I realised what a good Life, body and family I had. I wanted to tell my father how much I loved him. I tried to draw a "I <3 U" on the floor but he didn't notice. I tempted to reach into the physical realm and shook a tray of sorts with all my being to get him to look my way. He came into the other room and I opened a small bottle of shampoo and tried to draw the same thing on the floor to tell him that not only was I still here, stuck in between the worlds, but also tell him how much I love him. The figure was sloppy and you could barely understand what it was but perhaps he did. He sat down on the floor and spoke about how this served as a good reminder to be grateful for everything he had, to remember to live each day to the fullest until he would grow tired and go to sleep for good without getting up again. As I hugged him, without him being able to feel it, he looked much older, much like grandpa; his teeth had decayed.
I woke up and cried. So much.
In my night madness, I wished he would have woken up and hugged me. He did wake up but remained in his own world, behind his own wall.
Perhaps it's all this anger at his incoprehensible ways that is brewing in my lungs. Yet he does not speak. Nothing. And I feel like I'm intruding when I ask questions or try to be kind. Silly games.
But it was a great day. Biking, seaside, wind, thunder, sunshine, walking, good stuff. I should just remember to pick more suitable company or then keep to it alone.
I'm confused.
Sad.