exploratory dream fibillion sixty three...
Since seeing the movie and then reading the book (eat pray love) and many many hearts to hearts with my sister friends I am starting to for real feel like I may be crossing over. At least I feel the pull and I am not resisting it anymore. Not holding on to it. Not WANTING to hold on to it, then I had thi8s dream last night to confirm it... a dream…
I had to go back to high school to get my graduation stuff. What does that mean? I had to steal the money I needed to pay for some lost books to get my cap and gown on graduation day. No one bought me a year book or a class ring or senior pictures. The only person who offered me anything was my grandmother and it was at the suggestion of my cousin. My cousin took me shopping for a graduation outfit.
So back to the dream…I went back to school to pick something up for graduation. It was not my school and the room was more like a group of strangers sitting at the dmv waiting for their number to be called. It was my turn and I had the feeling like there were people here who resembled Jim Hayden but they were not really him. Even the guy at the window had his hair cut. When he handed me the packet it was so beautiful I was magically transformed. It had a beautiful cover and inside where pockets and little framed pictures tucked inside. The cover had a red boarder and I was standing in a floor length medieval gown with my back to the camera holding a giant bouquet of flowers behind many back. It was filled with scnes familiar and unfamiliar but all of them very beautiful and brought on feelings of gratefulness that these moments were captured by someone because I did not know they existed.
I wept and I wept and asked who made this for me? Who kept all of these pictures of me? Who thought to put such a beautiful thing together for ME? He said it was Jim Hayden and the other drama teacher who built sets and some girl I didn’t know from the yearbook club. He told me how each of them had carefully selected these things and put them all together carefuly, for me.
It was time to go and everyone was leaving. It was like we were going to catch a bus or a train and everyone had their own agenda. I started to feel like I had just drunk a beer and I looked down to find a beer bottle in my hand. I had to decide if I wanted to go to a party or get on the train. I went to the bathroom to check my makeup. My eyes were very tired and sad from crying but my skin looked soft and scar free and a little pink. I remember thinking that it was time to go home, Cass needed me and I have been away for too long. I looked down to the screen on my phone and everything was unfamiliar. I was flipping through the screens to find the way to dial out and…My alarm woke me up! Bastartd!
Feeling/thought after I woke up…Someone is trying to give me a going away or should I say moving on or get the hell outta here gift. Here are all the beautiful moments/feelings from 13-22 now get on a bus and get outta here. Go somewhere! Go to your son. Another thought, after seeing the pictures…I do not see myself the way other people do. I see myself though these filters on. I want to see myself the way other people see me. I like what others tell me, I do not like what I tell me.
So I took Cass to work and realized that this is not working either. Nothing I do ever really works because I keep doing the same thing over and over again hoping that this time I will get the prize. The cyclical way my mother taught me how to live. (This is a high level outline more detail can be added later)...
Hope and dream, attach yourself to the first thing that even resembles it, hold on to it even after you realize IT is not IT and nearly kill yourself and those closest to you, even you CHILDREN!!!, hold on just up to the point of asphyxiation, death, then run, just as fast as you can. Keep running until it all starts over again.
Well here I am. It is starting again... The end of the red cinder road, the end of the frayed rope with the old rotten tire swing dangling from it. The end. The place I was going all this time. The place where no one gets hurt and everything is okay. Peaceful and quiet and lazy and cozy and fun. The land of the rainbows and unicorns, the Lisa Frank freaking nightmare of freaking happiness and la la. Well, it found me here too. The fuckers found me here too. Fuck! So before I get to fucking far into this cycle let me just stop. Fuck I am panicking because my nature wants me to get back to what it knows just like the trees know they need the cycle of the seasons and sun and water, my body and mind thinks it needs its cycle too.
I had to go back to high school to get my graduation stuff. What does that mean? I had to steal the money I needed to pay for some lost books to get my cap and gown on graduation day. No one bought me a year book or a class ring or senior pictures. The only person who offered me anything was my grandmother and it was at the suggestion of my cousin. My cousin took me shopping for a graduation outfit.
So back to the dream…I went back to school to pick something up for graduation. It was not my school and the room was more like a group of strangers sitting at the dmv waiting for their number to be called. It was my turn and I had the feeling like there were people here who resembled Jim Hayden but they were not really him. Even the guy at the window had his hair cut. When he handed me the packet it was so beautiful I was magically transformed. It had a beautiful cover and inside where pockets and little framed pictures tucked inside. The cover had a red boarder and I was standing in a floor length medieval gown with my back to the camera holding a giant bouquet of flowers behind many back. It was filled with scnes familiar and unfamiliar but all of them very beautiful and brought on feelings of gratefulness that these moments were captured by someone because I did not know they existed.
I wept and I wept and asked who made this for me? Who kept all of these pictures of me? Who thought to put such a beautiful thing together for ME? He said it was Jim Hayden and the other drama teacher who built sets and some girl I didn’t know from the yearbook club. He told me how each of them had carefully selected these things and put them all together carefuly, for me.
It was time to go and everyone was leaving. It was like we were going to catch a bus or a train and everyone had their own agenda. I started to feel like I had just drunk a beer and I looked down to find a beer bottle in my hand. I had to decide if I wanted to go to a party or get on the train. I went to the bathroom to check my makeup. My eyes were very tired and sad from crying but my skin looked soft and scar free and a little pink. I remember thinking that it was time to go home, Cass needed me and I have been away for too long. I looked down to the screen on my phone and everything was unfamiliar. I was flipping through the screens to find the way to dial out and…My alarm woke me up! Bastartd!
Feeling/thought after I woke up…Someone is trying to give me a going away or should I say moving on or get the hell outta here gift. Here are all the beautiful moments/feelings from 13-22 now get on a bus and get outta here. Go somewhere! Go to your son. Another thought, after seeing the pictures…I do not see myself the way other people do. I see myself though these filters on. I want to see myself the way other people see me. I like what others tell me, I do not like what I tell me.
So I took Cass to work and realized that this is not working either. Nothing I do ever really works because I keep doing the same thing over and over again hoping that this time I will get the prize. The cyclical way my mother taught me how to live. (This is a high level outline more detail can be added later)...
Hope and dream, attach yourself to the first thing that even resembles it, hold on to it even after you realize IT is not IT and nearly kill yourself and those closest to you, even you CHILDREN!!!, hold on just up to the point of asphyxiation, death, then run, just as fast as you can. Keep running until it all starts over again.
Well here I am. It is starting again... The end of the red cinder road, the end of the frayed rope with the old rotten tire swing dangling from it. The end. The place I was going all this time. The place where no one gets hurt and everything is okay. Peaceful and quiet and lazy and cozy and fun. The land of the rainbows and unicorns, the Lisa Frank freaking nightmare of freaking happiness and la la. Well, it found me here too. The fuckers found me here too. Fuck! So before I get to fucking far into this cycle let me just stop. Fuck I am panicking because my nature wants me to get back to what it knows just like the trees know they need the cycle of the seasons and sun and water, my body and mind thinks it needs its cycle too.