this is what i get to see when i sleep.
I dreamt of wanting so badly to attend a very significant funeral with my family. I was supposed to meet up with them but I was late, so I decided to take a short cut through this field. I saw a girl about my age and asked her where she was headed, she didn’t respond in full sentences. Mainly mumbles. I knew who she was in the dream but in reality I have no clue. We walked together until we spotted an old beat up car. It was broken and very rusted. She went to the steering wheel and started up the engine. I got worried and told her to stop before something exploded, but she laughed and ran off. I was stuck with this problem… I screamed for help, but I guess from where I was standing and considering what time it was no one heard me.
I came home late to find an empty house, I ran out the back door to see if I could catch up with them, which I did. I pounded on the back window for them to stop the van and wait for me. Eventually they noticed half way down the back lane. It was raining hard, but it was warm.
We arrived to find the pews completely full. I sat in the front next to the casket, facing the people. Almost as if I was guarding the person inside of it from some sort of subconscious pain. From their eyes? From them? Instead of there being space to stretch out their feet, the people in the front row had a wall in front of them, around the sides as well. It looked like a court room setting. They sat in Lazy-Boy reclining chairs. Some were even sleeping. A gentle song from a choir of children began to play in the background. No one seemed to notice. I was given a very heavy velvet dodge ball; my instructions were to throw it into the crowd as a cultural ritual. So I did. I found myself having a very difficult time doing so. Alec was there. A few people that go to my school were in the crowd. No one recognized me.
Then suddenly I was in a school, not a stereotypical school, it was a single room with high walls that climbed high. Curtains were hanging down, the big theatre kind. I could distinctly hear somebody playing the piano very badly, I could hear them struggling to speak. They were upset that they were not good enough. Instead of helping them I decided to mock them by singing the notes they were playing in my worst tones possible. The lights were off and yet I was completely aware of where I stood. I was in a corner about one foot left of a stage.
There was a white poster with red writing on it. Only a few words were on it. Maybe only three, and one symbol. I don’t remember what the words were, but I am positive that they were about Matt.
Standing on top of a high hill I faced an exact replica of the one I was on. It was as long as the eye could see. It slanted down and inclined back up. There were children from a gym class playing dodge ball. They were happy. They did not notice me. I was given a backpack to wear; as soon as I put it on everyone began to notice me. I wanted to hide in a gopher hole to avoid being hit, regardless, I was hit on the top of the head. I felt nothing.
I walked away from all the chaos down to a little channel of water. A bunch of trees hung down creating a cave for me to pass under. I ventured beneath them stepping gracefully on top of the stones. Water was shallow enough to not get my shoes wet. It was magnificent. I kept walking until I came to an end. I could hear Matt‘s voice clearly in the background telling me about a memory that he had shared with his friends. The current had picked up and I could only see a few stones in front of me. They were spread out further than before. I felt challenged. The view became misty but still comfortably warm. There was broken trees floating on the water, I wanted to go on, but I couldn’t yet. I stopped and waited for something.
Upstairs I was in an older era. Late 80`s perhaps. I was in a bedroom with a little girl, we were both eagerly looking down onto the street from her window. Which was baby blue. She had white silk curtains which blew softly in the wind. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my arms, she was beautiful and full of life. She was looking for an answer, I guess I was too, so we waited and waited, then finally she pulled out a notepad from beneath her pillow and came back to sit with me. My elbows were up on the window sill. I was practically leaning out of it, my knees on the bed. She kept repeating “It’s Pack Rat backwards, it’s an anagram!” She knew she had found the answer. I was confused but praised her in finding her solace.
My mom was driving me somewhere. I thought we were in Rome, it was raining so she decided that we should get out of the car and walk down the streets to experience the feeling of being drenched. I was up for it, we went up some stairs into a pizza parlour, It was faded shades of beige, and dark green. There was a booth that the servers wait in for people to arrive to seat them, my name was on it, I approached it to see what it was. A phone. No number, I knew who I had to call.
I woke up.
I came home late to find an empty house, I ran out the back door to see if I could catch up with them, which I did. I pounded on the back window for them to stop the van and wait for me. Eventually they noticed half way down the back lane. It was raining hard, but it was warm.
We arrived to find the pews completely full. I sat in the front next to the casket, facing the people. Almost as if I was guarding the person inside of it from some sort of subconscious pain. From their eyes? From them? Instead of there being space to stretch out their feet, the people in the front row had a wall in front of them, around the sides as well. It looked like a court room setting. They sat in Lazy-Boy reclining chairs. Some were even sleeping. A gentle song from a choir of children began to play in the background. No one seemed to notice. I was given a very heavy velvet dodge ball; my instructions were to throw it into the crowd as a cultural ritual. So I did. I found myself having a very difficult time doing so. Alec was there. A few people that go to my school were in the crowd. No one recognized me.
Then suddenly I was in a school, not a stereotypical school, it was a single room with high walls that climbed high. Curtains were hanging down, the big theatre kind. I could distinctly hear somebody playing the piano very badly, I could hear them struggling to speak. They were upset that they were not good enough. Instead of helping them I decided to mock them by singing the notes they were playing in my worst tones possible. The lights were off and yet I was completely aware of where I stood. I was in a corner about one foot left of a stage.
There was a white poster with red writing on it. Only a few words were on it. Maybe only three, and one symbol. I don’t remember what the words were, but I am positive that they were about Matt.
Standing on top of a high hill I faced an exact replica of the one I was on. It was as long as the eye could see. It slanted down and inclined back up. There were children from a gym class playing dodge ball. They were happy. They did not notice me. I was given a backpack to wear; as soon as I put it on everyone began to notice me. I wanted to hide in a gopher hole to avoid being hit, regardless, I was hit on the top of the head. I felt nothing.
I walked away from all the chaos down to a little channel of water. A bunch of trees hung down creating a cave for me to pass under. I ventured beneath them stepping gracefully on top of the stones. Water was shallow enough to not get my shoes wet. It was magnificent. I kept walking until I came to an end. I could hear Matt‘s voice clearly in the background telling me about a memory that he had shared with his friends. The current had picked up and I could only see a few stones in front of me. They were spread out further than before. I felt challenged. The view became misty but still comfortably warm. There was broken trees floating on the water, I wanted to go on, but I couldn’t yet. I stopped and waited for something.
Upstairs I was in an older era. Late 80`s perhaps. I was in a bedroom with a little girl, we were both eagerly looking down onto the street from her window. Which was baby blue. She had white silk curtains which blew softly in the wind. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my arms, she was beautiful and full of life. She was looking for an answer, I guess I was too, so we waited and waited, then finally she pulled out a notepad from beneath her pillow and came back to sit with me. My elbows were up on the window sill. I was practically leaning out of it, my knees on the bed. She kept repeating “It’s Pack Rat backwards, it’s an anagram!” She knew she had found the answer. I was confused but praised her in finding her solace.
My mom was driving me somewhere. I thought we were in Rome, it was raining so she decided that we should get out of the car and walk down the streets to experience the feeling of being drenched. I was up for it, we went up some stairs into a pizza parlour, It was faded shades of beige, and dark green. There was a booth that the servers wait in for people to arrive to seat them, my name was on it, I approached it to see what it was. A phone. No number, I knew who I had to call.
I woke up.