After watching John Kerry's surprisingly passionate speech last night, I went to bed feeling pretty darn good, and I wasn't even drunk. The day had been ok, for a change.Office Lady #45 even told me a joke. It wasn't very funny, but I appreciated her taking the time to acknowldge my existence.
Took care of a couple minor technical difficulties at home, and even made myself laugh making stupid cartoon parodies (see below-click on them to enlarge); re-recorded a track I wasn't quite happy with and even wrote a poem that I think turned out OK.( My poetry usually reminds me why I should stick to disjointed rants)
Even took the trouble to cook a decent meal. The cats got treats. A low-key, but pleasant day.
Until I went to sleep. I had a bad dream. Very, very bad.
I have not had a nightmare like that for years- woke up sweating,with my throat very sore and dry, as if I'd been screaming. I have a feeling that something horrible has happened somewhere; I've had this feeling only a few times before,but it always means something.
I tried calling my Grandmother, but no one answered. She's in and out of hospital on a regular basis and it worries me. It really makes me angry that my dad and my cousin can't take the time to call me when she falls ill; instead I make a routine call home and a family friend or distant relative answers the phone and tells me she's in IC. This has happened more than a couple times, and it pisses me off to no end.
But I think she's alright. It wasn't the 'someone died last night' type of nightmare-it was violent ,bloody and incredibly realistic. I was looking through someone else's eyes, and I was horrified by what they saw. I'm not going to describe it. I can't. I've never had this nightmare before- none of my familar themes and symbol were there. It was like I was having another person's worst fears invade and occupy my soul.
Something bad has happened. I feel helpless and afraid. I hope I'm going mad, I can handle that.
2 comments:
Allan
Beth here. I had a weird dream last night too. I was helping move some stuff to an unknown persons apartment. The atmosphere was kind of scary, tense. The piece I was moving was a giant silver sculpture of a nasty looking rat. I set it down and went back through the parking garage (to get another load?) and an unknown person approached me and said "You shouldn't be here by yourself. There might be gollums here."
I don't know how the Dem Convention inspired that dream.
I had rats too, but different. Thankfully, the memory is starting to fade a little. I'm glad I didn't write it down.
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