Slow Adventures in Slothville

August 16, 2004

I Dream in Color

Filed under: Maybe worth a look, Photography, Slothyness — shhville @ 11:31 am


This is a photograph of a bridge on the Chesapeake Bay. I took it from a sailboat.

This post is about nightmares and is NOT for the squeamish. Consider yourself warned. My dreams generally fall into one of two categories –
1. Bad bloody
2. Worse bloody

Bad bloody dreams are usually recurring, like the one in which all of my teeth fall out. I have this one all the time but have yet to figure out that it's a dream while I'm dreaming it. Every single time I'm completely convinced I have a mouth full of my own teeth, rattling around on my tongue, tasting like blood. Scary, gross, hate that dream.

Then there are the Worse bloody dreams like the one in which I was standing in the lobby of a large building under a glass awning, looking around at all the people milling about and knowing that they were all about to die. There was nothing I could do about it. And sure enough, at that moment these huge metal maces (you know, the medieval weapons with spikes) bigger than wrecking balls came swinging through and tore everyone to pieces while I watched. There was blood splattered all over me and I could smell the insides of people and the screams were so loud but I couldn't do anything except wait for it to be over. The glass awning was green. The blood was red. The giant maces were dark metallic gray.

Or the one in which the Devil came and took my aunt away. I hunted them down and found them in a gallery in SoHo. She was crucified on a stage in front of an audience that sat quietly, thoroughly entertained, benign smiles on their faces. The Devil saw me and as soon as I walked in he gutted my aunt with an enormous curved blade. All of her insides fell out into a big metal bowl. My sister was with me and ran up onto the stage. She tried to stuff my aunt's insides back into the gaping hole of her abdomen, crying, begging me to help her, steaming, bloody viscera in her hands. But I couldn't move and I couldn't stop screaming. A few weeks later my aunt died unexpectedly in real life and I couldn't get that horrid dream out of my mind.

I still remember my very first nightmare. It was after a friend of mine was raped. I dreamt that I was being stalked by a rapist who had followed me into an apartment building. Long story short, I killed him by sawing his spine in half with a pink plastic letter opener. It took forever, but I did it and he flopped in half like a marionette, blood pouring from the jagged slice in his back and pooling on the floor.

Do you ever have dreams that are so disturbing that you can't even believe your brain created them? I'm not a violent person. I'm not mean or crazy or bloodthirsty. My waking thoughts are about politics and what am I going to eat for lunch and where are my keys and I wish I had someone to smooch and what am I going to eat for a snack and crap I have to do laundry and ooh I like those shoes and what am I going to eat for dinner. But then I go to sleep and people are screaming and blood is pouring and the next thing I know I'm awake and checking to make sure my teeth are still there. I think I'm so slothful and tired all the time because my dreams are so exhausting that they wake me up every few minutes. I'm so groggy today. I just want a good night's sleep with no blood. I don't think that's too much to ask. Posted by Hello

Advertisements

Leave a Comment »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: