(no subject)
Well, LiveJournal is all but dead these days. I guess the instantaneous response of Facebook statuses just doesn't compare to a good old-fashioned blog. Meh. I still check LJ often, but there are only about three names which I am regularly interested in.
Of course, I am also to blame. But enough chit-chat, eh? I feel like the following story is worth mentioning for Future Me....
The past two nights have been cataclysmic dreams. I know. "Really? I have nothing better to write about than dreams?" Well. Guess not.
Anyway, two nights ago I dreamed that an old friend of mine from Middle School had committed suicide. This friend, we'll call him Dustyn (since that is his name), and I seperated about ten years ago. He moved halfway across the country, we became pen-pals for a bit, but completely lost track of one another until we somewhat-recently connected on Facebook. It was fun to catch up, but there are no plans to like, fly out and chill. 'Not sure how much we have in common these days, anyway.
To be fair, I best remember Dustyn as being a good artist and for introducing me to comic books. I still have his colored-pencil drawing he did for me before leaving. It is framed in my bedroom and it goes down as the first piece of 'real' art I ever owned.
So, in the dream, I had learned from a phone call that Dustyn had killed himself somehow. But the bad part is, the day before he did it he had written me a letter asking for me to help him or do something for him, but I had ignored it. It made me wake up feeling morose and guilty, and I even took an extra moment to remind myself it was a dream. Since, in the dream, I was 'remembering' already, I couldn't tell if when I woke up I was remembering the dream or remembering the event, you know?
As an update, I figured out this morning where that dream came from... The night I had the dream I had a busy day, culiminating in seeing a production of Arthur Miller's All My Sons at the Huntington Theatre. In the play, there is a character who was an Air Force pilot gone missing. it is ultimately revealed that he had killed himself because he found out that his father sold faulty parts to the government during the war. Dustyn currently works for the Air Force. Somehow my brain had taken that story and merged it with this knowledge and created a vision with me in the middle. All while seeing the show I never thought of Dustyn (that I know of), but I guess my subconscious was connecting the dots.
Dream Number Two...
I was on a boat with the teachers/children from the Daycare Center here at Tufts. It was a big boat, cruise ship size, and except for being in charge of the kids, I don't feel like there was anything unusual about the concept. Well, news begins to spread among the adults that the ship is sinking. You know, like the end of Titanic. I turn to the head teacher and ask if we are getting on the life rafts. She says, "No. Our job is to go down with the ship." And just to be clear, she meant all of us--kids too.
So Part II of the dream is trying to keep the kids calm and entertained while all this chaos is going on. I remember clearly the image of going to lift a window curtain, but someone telling me not to--"The kids have no sense of direction," they said. I assume this means that we were already tilting and I could not feel it... Or that we were underwater somehow... By not looking out the window, we didn't cause the kids to panic.
The actual sinking itself didn't seem to occur in my dream except in a single moment... Just the concept of 'the-boat-sank-and-everyone-died' washed over me. Well, almost everyone.
Everyone from the daycare center died (yes, kids too...another 'flash' sensation), but Part III of the dream was this post-apocalyptic 'city on half-a-boat' vision. We were all waiting, certain that we would not be rescued... an ironic sensation since some people clearly had cel phones they were talking on... there was some crazed Chinese mayor... and I remember scavenging garbage for food and tools...
Both these dreams, I would say, occured around 7 AM, just when I'm trying to get my body out of bed anyway. My brain would come into reality just long enough to think, "it's a dream," and then jump back in to finish it... or more optimisitcally, to keep playing things out until something positive happened. As it was, both dreams 'ended' with me confused and lost. But I was still striving for a better situation. Don't ask me why, and don't ask me what it means....
But yea... enough dream rambling... next time, I should actually talk about my life as it stands. So far, if someone asks me "how is the new semester?" I've been saying, "Good." And meaning it, for the most part. So. Yeah. 'Catch ya later.
Of course, I am also to blame. But enough chit-chat, eh? I feel like the following story is worth mentioning for Future Me....
The past two nights have been cataclysmic dreams. I know. "Really? I have nothing better to write about than dreams?" Well. Guess not.
Anyway, two nights ago I dreamed that an old friend of mine from Middle School had committed suicide. This friend, we'll call him Dustyn (since that is his name), and I seperated about ten years ago. He moved halfway across the country, we became pen-pals for a bit, but completely lost track of one another until we somewhat-recently connected on Facebook. It was fun to catch up, but there are no plans to like, fly out and chill. 'Not sure how much we have in common these days, anyway.
To be fair, I best remember Dustyn as being a good artist and for introducing me to comic books. I still have his colored-pencil drawing he did for me before leaving. It is framed in my bedroom and it goes down as the first piece of 'real' art I ever owned.
So, in the dream, I had learned from a phone call that Dustyn had killed himself somehow. But the bad part is, the day before he did it he had written me a letter asking for me to help him or do something for him, but I had ignored it. It made me wake up feeling morose and guilty, and I even took an extra moment to remind myself it was a dream. Since, in the dream, I was 'remembering' already, I couldn't tell if when I woke up I was remembering the dream or remembering the event, you know?
As an update, I figured out this morning where that dream came from... The night I had the dream I had a busy day, culiminating in seeing a production of Arthur Miller's All My Sons at the Huntington Theatre. In the play, there is a character who was an Air Force pilot gone missing. it is ultimately revealed that he had killed himself because he found out that his father sold faulty parts to the government during the war. Dustyn currently works for the Air Force. Somehow my brain had taken that story and merged it with this knowledge and created a vision with me in the middle. All while seeing the show I never thought of Dustyn (that I know of), but I guess my subconscious was connecting the dots.
Dream Number Two...
I was on a boat with the teachers/children from the Daycare Center here at Tufts. It was a big boat, cruise ship size, and except for being in charge of the kids, I don't feel like there was anything unusual about the concept. Well, news begins to spread among the adults that the ship is sinking. You know, like the end of Titanic. I turn to the head teacher and ask if we are getting on the life rafts. She says, "No. Our job is to go down with the ship." And just to be clear, she meant all of us--kids too.
So Part II of the dream is trying to keep the kids calm and entertained while all this chaos is going on. I remember clearly the image of going to lift a window curtain, but someone telling me not to--"The kids have no sense of direction," they said. I assume this means that we were already tilting and I could not feel it... Or that we were underwater somehow... By not looking out the window, we didn't cause the kids to panic.
The actual sinking itself didn't seem to occur in my dream except in a single moment... Just the concept of 'the-boat-sank-and-everyone-died' washed over me. Well, almost everyone.
Everyone from the daycare center died (yes, kids too...another 'flash' sensation), but Part III of the dream was this post-apocalyptic 'city on half-a-boat' vision. We were all waiting, certain that we would not be rescued... an ironic sensation since some people clearly had cel phones they were talking on... there was some crazed Chinese mayor... and I remember scavenging garbage for food and tools...
Both these dreams, I would say, occured around 7 AM, just when I'm trying to get my body out of bed anyway. My brain would come into reality just long enough to think, "it's a dream," and then jump back in to finish it... or more optimisitcally, to keep playing things out until something positive happened. As it was, both dreams 'ended' with me confused and lost. But I was still striving for a better situation. Don't ask me why, and don't ask me what it means....
But yea... enough dream rambling... next time, I should actually talk about my life as it stands. So far, if someone asks me "how is the new semester?" I've been saying, "Good." And meaning it, for the most part. So. Yeah. 'Catch ya later.