Dream: Fictional & Real

Life is unfolding as it should. I feel the touch of the infinite ignite my deepest passions. I am on fire. My love is growing, my feminine essence is deepening and my yearnings are surfacing to be matched by the manifestation of my opposite. I am surrendering myself to be penetrated by the highest vision of my Being. I am it and I am becoming it, constantly expanding to embody more expression. I am enraptured by the undulating waves of life.

Below is a short somewhat twisted writing I did recently capturing a nightly dream I had. I just felt like sharing it. It is titled Psyched.

It’s a marred image. Very blurry at first but steadily gaining in contrast and saturation. I am an artist so I think differently. I can see how easy it is to get lost in here. The mind can play tricks on me. “You have to stay grounded!” they say but it is not as easy as it may seem to them. They walk their path low to the ground. I know, I like to fly. I like to soar, as a matter of fact, and not just every once in awhile. I like to be up there with those people, those who sort of get it too, all the time.

Sometimes it is hard to say if it is a dream or reality but I like it this way. It gives reality an edge. Ultimately, I don’t really care. I find it amusing when they flounder, those other ones that really don’t understand, while they interact with me. They think I am mad or something or that I can’t hear them. I like turning an ambivalent ear to them and watch their mouth as it first falls open and then turns into this crooked ugly grimace of disbelief – furrowed brows and a silent scream. I am a threat to the status quo, a threat to order.
I am not alone again, they are with me. From the expression on their faces, their smiles and nods and toasts I can tell we are on the same mind plane. My head is spinning. Their skin, dark and smooth, dances within my arm’s reach, it is beautiful shiny ebony color covered with oil and sweat. I am the only white girl in the crowd, that’s until the scene changes again. I do feel kind of boyish though. I guess I could be both here, a boy or a girl. But I catch my image in the mirror – my brown hair is long and wavy and my jeans fit smugly on my hips. Definitely a girl. I think I’m in my mid twenties but I feel exactly the same way I did when I was fourteen.

A memory flickers in my mind.
I left the pub with my best friend at midnight. Riding thought the night on a sleepy train I watched the city lights smudge behind my reflection in the window. I felt free and uninhibited. It happened ten years ago. I was young but I felt ready to take on the world – same way I am feeling now.

They invite me to dance with them, their soft cocoa hands that make smooth spirals though the air the way Hawaiian dancers do, reach towards me arousing the air around us. One girl wears a blue wig with plastic hair tucked behind her ears. She looks like an African goddess of celebration. Wearing a golden bikini, she shimmies her body invitingly. But I don’t feel like dancing. I move past her and she turns to someone else on the dance floor not letting her smile fade.

The party is on. I like this tune playing. The music changes as I enter a television room and crash on a couch in front of the large screen. The couch turns out to be an oversized bed.
“Wanna join us?” I hear a deep male voice next to my ear sounding as if his throat was bubbling with boiling water.
“Depends what you are doing.”
“Hanging out on the tube,” he said interlacing his fingers in font of him. We lay belly down, knees bent, feet playing in the air.
“What ya’ll watchin’?” I ask.
“This girl’s life,” his big brown eyes tear up. He’s a big man, dark skin, short hair.
“How’s it?” I query.
“I don’t know about the older girl but her daughter is real cool.”
“Which one’s her?”
“The ‘lil one over there. I think she’s now hidin’ under the sheets. Her momma and she are playing’ like that a lot. The ‘lil one is real fond of that sort of thing.”
“Who’s the girl laughin’?” I ask looking at the pearly white smile of the girl contrasting with her black skin.
“That’s her momma.”
“You the daddy?”
“Of the ‘lil one. Yee. Check this out!” he says and vanishes from the bed to show up on the plasma screen in the next moment.

The older girl and the guy with the bubbling throaty voice laugh and wave at me after he points at me on the screen to let his girl know I’m watching. The TV is muted but I can tell they are having a great time rolling on the bed and kissing until they fall off the camera focus that quickly narrows to a small area on the bed where someone is struggling to get out through layers of white sheets. Finally her face peeks out and I see the most beautiful little girl. Unlike her parents, her eyes are winter blue. She has dimples in her cheeks and tiny teeth underneath her cherry lips. She smiles at me playing peek-a-boo and then goes back under the sheets before the screen turns blank.

I’m cold. The bed is in the center of a busy intersection. New York? Chicago? The air is laden with tiny rain droplets and the sky is completely overcast. There are no street lights on though. None of the windows of the surrounding skyscrapers are on either. It is dark, gloomy and murky green. Only one thing is aglow – the LED light blue beads on the head of a girl serving her as hair bangs that fall on either side of her face. She is sporting a party costume on her toned pale body and is dancing in squirmy undulations. The streets are devoid of people, only she is here. She notices me and reaches out her hands. We touch. She is as cold as me and tells me that she dances to keep warm.

“You have to move!” she screams in an ecstatic tone.
“But wait! What if we just talk?” I ask to lazy to get up. He exudes enough energy to light up the whole city, something that I couldn’t match no matter how many red bulls I had.
“How is that supposed to keep us warm?” she stops her wiggles to ask with a saddened face.
“Well, if I say something funny that will make you laugh hysterically, won’t that warm you up?”
“Try it! I’ve never heard of such thing but please do try it!” she encourages clapping her hands and bouncing on her rubber platform shoes.
“Stop moving and come over here, come closer.” She obeys and I look into her brown eyes lined with frosty makeup. “What is this?” I asked touching the glowing beads on her hair.
“How the hell do I know?” she said snickering at herself. We both burst out laughing.
“What about this?” I point at her costume.
“I know! Pure hilarity!” We laugh louder.
“Where is everyone?”
“I guess they can’t take it!” she says before folding over in laughter. How come it’s so easy? I think to myself. “You are so great!” she calls with a high voice reaching out her arms towards me. We hug and then we kiss…

I am warm again except for these freezers in this stupid aisle that are already stealing my heat. I reach down to zip up my black sweatshirt and pull the hood over my head. I am here for something… I decide to just meander through the aisles of this brightly lit ghostly white place that go up a couple of stories high until I remember again. Paradoxically, the kid’s toys are located in the highest aisles, way beyond anyone’s reach. That brown teddy bear must be huge! It looks like it’s the size of a sedan even from my low vantage point.
Ointment! That’s what I need. I dart for the cosmetic aisle and my attention centers on two small clear jars of face cream without labels – one contains white cream and the other coal back. I know that the black cream turns the color of one’s complexion once applied. I came here for the white one but I want the black one as well as but I have no money. I know that the black cream is exactly what I need to put on my buttocks while the white cream was supposed to go on my face.

Walking across this oversized drug store with the creams in my hands, I open the jar containing the white cream and smear some of it on my face. It doesn’t absorb and soon it will be obvious to other people at the store what I am up to. Quickly, I reach for the black cream and with a huge blob of it on my pointer finger, I shove my hand under the belt of my pants.

“Hey you there!” on old fat lady calls. I pretend not to hear her until she is up in my face. We are standing inches away from each other. “What do you think you are doing?” I stick out my tongue and turn to walk the opposite direction. She is appalled. Soon I am followed by other people and even guards stoning me with their ugly voices and words. They are all so ugly and distorted. I want to get away!
“Am I really that daring?” I whisper to myself as my cheek muscles tighten and a smile breaks out. Hands in my pocket, I walk on with a cool swagger. I really don’t care! My heart is beating faster than usual. I am aware of the effect I am having on people, the trail of damage and shock and irritation that I am causing but I really don’t care and I like it that way! This is so different than being a people pleaser, a good girl that always makes everyone feel so good. The person I usually am…

I’m outside again but the cop car is pacing slowly behind me until it unexpectedly takes a turn. A sigh of relief…

A middle aged woman offers me a ride in her SUV. She looks like a pretty version of the store clerk. I get in but don’t speak. As she pulls into a stop light, I get out leaving the jar of the black cream on the passenger seat. She yells after me but I quickly turn into a small park on my left and hide behind the trunk of a fallen tree. If she was any smarter, she could have seen my blue jean butt sticking out and tennis shoes popping up over the trunk. But she passes me without noticing me while driving on the sidewalk and looking around. Good, I think, she was one irritating lady!

The yellow-green fungus growing on the trunk looks like a mini fan. I touch it and it breaks under the light pressure of my fingers. It is brittle and very thin. Could have made a nice art piece!

“Which movie is this?” I ask the kid sitting on the grass next to the tree trunk with squinty eyes while chewing on a blade.
“Manhood and Chagrin with Clark and Cooney,” he replies not even looking at me and goes back to chewing. I like this set. Particularly the kid who seconds ago raced with five other kids next to me for the scene. He was beyond cute. His face was stunning. He looked like a young prince with sandy blond long hair partly tied into a loose ponytail. I could see him years on, what he would look like say in ten years from now. But he didn’t seem to even notice me. Plus, he was very young. Maybe seven or eight max. What am I thinking? How old am I? I ‘m not sure anymore… But these kids are really cool. They seem like they are from another era. They all wear yellowing wool shirts and grayish pants that bulged at their hips held up by suspenders.

I walk away from them and towards the gray concrete buildings, still misunderstood…

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