Haikus of the Gods and missing Hamsters
Um...yeah. Okay. I think I need to start writing again on a regular basis, because last night I was writing haikus in my sleep.
This was the most vivid night of dreaming I've had in quite a while. The first one started off with a common theme of a lot of my dreams: I was in a vast building, with lots and lots of floors and levels and staircases and twists and turns and tunnels and secret passages...and while such dreams can sometimes be frustrating in content (ie, seeking something I can't find, often a clean bathroom!), it's always pretty nice being in the building itself.
This building was apparently a school. I walked into an English lit class and volunteered along with two other people for an assignment in front of the board. Plot!twist: seems that "lit" in this class stood for "liturgy", because the assignment turned out to be writing a haiku of supplication to Apollo. First we had to kneel down, hands in prayer, and close our eyes and think of something we wanted really REALLY badly, and concentrate on that. And there were just way too many things I wanted, so I decided to just write a haiku about yearning in general instead. But about that time I heard a high and very sweet singing voice. The young woman at the right end of the board was singing her already-finished haiku.
Fuck! I didn't know we had to sing them, too! I scrambled to put something into words and make it into something singable while the guy between me and the singing girl (who for some reason was the guy who plays Marshall off How I Met Your Mother) started doing his. The gist of mine was,
Want so bad it hurts
Michael take this pain away
help me win my prize
The original haiku/song I wrote in the dream wasn't 5-7-5, it was longer, and it did have a tune to it, but I can't remember the original now. But that was the gist. And I 'd apparently decided to write mine to St. Michael instead of Apollo, because, well, frankly, what the hell has Apollo ever done for anyone? Dude's just a delivery guy. Or maybe they were really the same entity with different names; who knows?
From there the class changed into a theatre class, and I'd been cast as Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. Which was cool I suppose, but I didn't remember auditioning; and even though a very nice Polish lady mistook me for a teenager on the bus this week (really happened irl, not the dream), there's no way in this world or any other that anyone would ever mistake me for a thirteen-year-old. I started to think it would be more fun to play the Nurse, and have her speak in a really broad Yorkshire accent, so I went up to the teacher - a young woman with dark hair and glasses - who was sitting in the middle of the rows of desks.
She told me I had nothing to worry about; I'd done so well on the word challenge (eh? What word challenge?) that I could do it again. So she gave me a second one: if I had a hearing disability (she didn't say deaf), how would that make me feel, and how would it affect the way I approached or functioned in the class or the world? I thought and gave the automatic response that it would be scary, but that scary was good, because scary was a challenge and safety was boring and you had to... She got very impatient then and said no, in one four letter word!
I blinked. Well, pardon the hell out of me. ONE four-letter word??? I racked my brains. The first word I came up with was "HOPE", but that was just too overwhelmingly cheezy for words, so I thought some more. And the word I came up with was "DARE".
Message I'm taking from that one: pull your finger out already, Q.
Second dream: Richard Hammond was missing. There was a news report about it, and they were searching the woods but it didn't look good because it was the second day he'd been gone. Suddenly I was in some breakfast eatery place with a telly fixed to the overhead cabinet. And, strangely, Hammond was sitting right there at the table watching. He might or might not have had a sling on his left arm; couldn't tell for sure. He watched the report while James May walked around with a vaguely lost expression, like he was looking for something but didn't know what...he was clearly hearing the report too, though.
Somehow this was the past, and they were watching this news report that hadn't happened yet, but was going to happen sometime in their immediate future.
As I walked in, Hammond said, "I'm missing, apparently" and I didn't know what to do because of course I already knew that, and James seemed tense because he didn't know what to do either. I patted/squeezed Hammond's forearm, in a sort of hopefully supportive "sucks to be you, mate" sort of way. The odd thing was that neither James nor I were doing anything at all to try and prevent this thing happening, like moving Hammond somewhere else or staying with him 24/7 or getting him a bodyguard...it was just a given it was going to happen. I didn't know if he was missing because of a terrorist kidnapping or if he'd just wandered off while on a walk/hike/jog or something like that. (Though, it would have to be an extraordinarily surreal group of terrorists who wanted to bring down western culture by kidnapping a Top Gear host...)
Crap, I want to know what happened now. Hopefully I'll dream the rest tonight.
Message I'm taking from that one: when is Top Gear on again?
Q