Dream images that leave me uneasy
Jan. 16th, 2004 12:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedarksiren2I was sitting at a table with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wraptboy on a patio in front of a Mexican cafe and he was miserable. It was like all points of passion had been sucked out of him, and he was just sitting there, void, apathetic, except for the tequila.
A waiter came by and poured him some in a shot glass.wraptboy grabbed the bottle from him with a hint of aggravation, slammed the shot he had, and then placed two large shot glasses in front of us. He began to pour, and it was clear like vodka, but it smelled golden, and I thought of a tower somewhere.
He urged me to drink. I didn't want to, but because I wanted to see him happy I did anyway. Just then I stood up, realizing that we were sitting on the corner of our street and W14th. It was still a cafe, but the corner of our street. I could see his car, its tan drawing me toward it. I opened the door, and it made buzzing noises like Fairuza does, only more soft. I sat down and waited in the passenger's seat. At some point,wraptboy got in and we simply sat there, waiting. He was suddenly smoking a cigarette, and his window was down. There was a church that looked like the one across from Pilgrim Church (on Starkweather, not W14th) that stood dimly across the street from our(?) car. He blew smoke toward it, almost to laugh at it but he never smiled. I felt so sad, and wished I were elsewhere.
Just then,lemonmerchant opened the back door on the driver's side, seeming to have a purpose and almost nervous. I looked to see what he was doing, noting the glistening droplets, one by one, dropping from his brow like crystals. They would land on the forehead of a child, a baby, as he lifted her/him from the carseat with a pastel blankie. I was just observing, feeling numb and apathetic now as well. wraptboy kept smoking his cigarette.
Once the door closed,lemonmerchant now gone with the baby, I snapped back to reality, and a sense of urgency and guilt came over me; I had to get my baby back. Yes, it was my baby, but hell if I know how or why.
I shookwraptboy, urging him to help me, that we had to get the child. He looked forward, dragging his cigarette, turned his head and blew smoke in my face. Instant tears flowed, both from the burning smoke and from the devastation of his reaction. I told him, "Fuck you then. Rot in this coffin," and I jumped out of the car to find my child.
I landed on the corner of Starkweather and W 14th, looking all directions. I could seelemonmerchant with the child across Lincoln Park, but I couldn't move that direction. A policeman saw me and came toward me. I tried to explain, but he couldn't understand me, and suddenly lemonmerchant walked up, sans child, and asked what the problem was. He looked at me, his crystal-blue eyes void of compassion for me whatsoever, and asked the police officer what the problem was. I tried to explain, to challenge him, but he knew the police officer's language, and they both joked and laughed together. The officer looked at me and shook his head, shook his finger at me as if to say I was a prankster. I let out a defiant sigh and stomp, and then lemonmerchant told me to head back down W 14th toward where, IRL, Lava Lounge would be. For whatever reason, I listened, and he smiled in victory as I walked away.
I wanted my baby.
I was suddenly walking into a bar, just beyond the patio area thatwraptboy and I had been drinking tequila in. Inside, it started out like a large, loud pub with Harley riders and angry Irishmen. It kinda felt like The Fiddler's Elbow in Rome, but it was here in Tremont. I went and sat at the bar, tired and sad, when Amy and Amy Lynn from VA showed up. They were young, dressed in their gear from when Amy got married. The urged me to go out with them, wiggling their toes which were as blue as their toenails' polish from the cold. Nonetheless, I agreed because I had nothing to lose.
We went to Whiskey Business which had become a '60's cafe of some sort, only still with karaoke.lonewolf73 was there, as were digitylgoddess and angellafurious. Amy and Amy Lynn got obliterated, and I felt very alienated, isolated from the world of laughter and raucous play. I sat at a booth, which turned into a small table on a platform because all these tables were on a large platform that followed the circular wall around the room. The place became more empty, quiet, all color and rowdy drunkeness faded into a memory. I had a cup of coffee in front of me, and I felt ancient.
A waitress came up, and I thought she was a beautiful Greek goddess. She smiled at me, running the back of her soft, feminine hand across my left cheek. I leaned into this touch, letting out a small sob. She said, "Shh...all is well. Everyone is OK."
I knew they weren't though, that she was a tool in consumerism, looking for a tip and nothing more. She may as well have been a stripper at a dank club, giving me a lap dance. I thought of this, and could smell cigars and sex in the air of this seemingly quaint establishment.
I hated everyone for everything, and my heart was destroyed, crumbling to dust within my chest. I coughed, and when I brought my hand down from covering my mouth (I was still polite, apparently) there was red ash on it.
wraptboy on a patio in front of a Mexican cafe and he was miserable. It was like all points of passion had been sucked out of him, and he was just sitting there, void, apathetic, except for the tequila.A waiter came by and poured him some in a shot glass.
wraptboy grabbed the bottle from him with a hint of aggravation, slammed the shot he had, and then placed two large shot glasses in front of us. He began to pour, and it was clear like vodka, but it smelled golden, and I thought of a tower somewhere.He urged me to drink. I didn't want to, but because I wanted to see him happy I did anyway. Just then I stood up, realizing that we were sitting on the corner of our street and W14th. It was still a cafe, but the corner of our street. I could see his car, its tan drawing me toward it. I opened the door, and it made buzzing noises like Fairuza does, only more soft. I sat down and waited in the passenger's seat. At some point,
wraptboy got in and we simply sat there, waiting. He was suddenly smoking a cigarette, and his window was down. There was a church that looked like the one across from Pilgrim Church (on Starkweather, not W14th) that stood dimly across the street from our(?) car. He blew smoke toward it, almost to laugh at it but he never smiled. I felt so sad, and wished I were elsewhere.Just then,
lemonmerchant opened the back door on the driver's side, seeming to have a purpose and almost nervous. I looked to see what he was doing, noting the glistening droplets, one by one, dropping from his brow like crystals. They would land on the forehead of a child, a baby, as he lifted her/him from the carseat with a pastel blankie. I was just observing, feeling numb and apathetic now as well. wraptboy kept smoking his cigarette.Once the door closed,
lemonmerchant now gone with the baby, I snapped back to reality, and a sense of urgency and guilt came over me; I had to get my baby back. Yes, it was my baby, but hell if I know how or why.I shook
wraptboy, urging him to help me, that we had to get the child. He looked forward, dragging his cigarette, turned his head and blew smoke in my face. Instant tears flowed, both from the burning smoke and from the devastation of his reaction. I told him, "Fuck you then. Rot in this coffin," and I jumped out of the car to find my child.I landed on the corner of Starkweather and W 14th, looking all directions. I could see
lemonmerchant with the child across Lincoln Park, but I couldn't move that direction. A policeman saw me and came toward me. I tried to explain, but he couldn't understand me, and suddenly lemonmerchant walked up, sans child, and asked what the problem was. He looked at me, his crystal-blue eyes void of compassion for me whatsoever, and asked the police officer what the problem was. I tried to explain, to challenge him, but he knew the police officer's language, and they both joked and laughed together. The officer looked at me and shook his head, shook his finger at me as if to say I was a prankster. I let out a defiant sigh and stomp, and then lemonmerchant told me to head back down W 14th toward where, IRL, Lava Lounge would be. For whatever reason, I listened, and he smiled in victory as I walked away.I wanted my baby.
I was suddenly walking into a bar, just beyond the patio area that
wraptboy and I had been drinking tequila in. Inside, it started out like a large, loud pub with Harley riders and angry Irishmen. It kinda felt like The Fiddler's Elbow in Rome, but it was here in Tremont. I went and sat at the bar, tired and sad, when Amy and Amy Lynn from VA showed up. They were young, dressed in their gear from when Amy got married. The urged me to go out with them, wiggling their toes which were as blue as their toenails' polish from the cold. Nonetheless, I agreed because I had nothing to lose.We went to Whiskey Business which had become a '60's cafe of some sort, only still with karaoke.
lonewolf73 was there, as were digitylgoddess and angellafurious. Amy and Amy Lynn got obliterated, and I felt very alienated, isolated from the world of laughter and raucous play. I sat at a booth, which turned into a small table on a platform because all these tables were on a large platform that followed the circular wall around the room. The place became more empty, quiet, all color and rowdy drunkeness faded into a memory. I had a cup of coffee in front of me, and I felt ancient.A waitress came up, and I thought she was a beautiful Greek goddess. She smiled at me, running the back of her soft, feminine hand across my left cheek. I leaned into this touch, letting out a small sob. She said, "Shh...all is well. Everyone is OK."
I knew they weren't though, that she was a tool in consumerism, looking for a tip and nothing more. She may as well have been a stripper at a dank club, giving me a lap dance. I thought of this, and could smell cigars and sex in the air of this seemingly quaint establishment.
I hated everyone for everything, and my heart was destroyed, crumbling to dust within my chest. I coughed, and when I brought my hand down from covering my mouth (I was still polite, apparently) there was red ash on it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Do you
Date: 2004-01-16 09:42 am (UTC)Let me know, maybe a good dream mojo candle!
Re: Do you
Date: 2004-01-16 09:49 am (UTC)Umm, I dunno. This one just bothered me because of the content of everyone being so sad and unhappy. I like having weird dreams mostly, and I wouldn't be surprised if this week has been a result of both school starting back up and my new diet (which I am sticking to very well, I might add! YAY ME!!~8) but umm, I dunno...I have to wait to buy anything anyway because I am sooo broke. My paycheck's been messed up for two pay periods now. ~8(
*shrugs*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-16 02:56 pm (UTC)At least a little of it, though, makes sense. I really am learning the language of the law. That, at least, is basically true.
Uhm. I am not, however, in posession of a child (thank God) nor am I prone to crystaline sweat.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-18 01:26 pm (UTC)I don't know what the deal was with the baby at all. I think overall it's just my brain trying to deal with all the upcoming changes in my life, and seeing as where I am hoping to move is realtively closer to where you are than Cleveland, it kinda makes sense to me.
Very upsetting though.yup yup.