Alison Scarpulla
e dream via iphone on April 3rd, the night I went to the tree house and then to get a second chance.
Damn if I didn't have dreams so sinister that only when I finally found consciousness, could I immediately appreciate how much better reality is. This series of dreams haunted me and my time on the premises if not only because the entire experience was about my time on the premises. The premise revolved around my premises. The guest house I have been hiding in.
In the reality of recent milieu and leisure I changed and redecorated of mi casa a little because everything needed to change this year.
This dream changed it again countless times. I've seen it two dimensional, I've seen it with glowing white walkways, I've seen it above and below ground. I've seen it inhabited by ghosts and replicas and dream posit of the imminent new neighbors who happened to actually be hours from moving in up front. It was completely isolated in space, and then it was in an alley in San Francisco .
Every time I woke it was in my house. The deeper I dripped into it the less clear my surroundings were. The ghosts and I discussing in depth the impossibility of anything in existence outside the premises. I spent hours and days searching for anything tangible that made sense even remotely in one of these dreams. I sought fuzzily with my mouth full of dream spit any remote semblance of familiarity. And then, awoke to the recollection that I was supposed to be tangible, physical, familiar. Raising my hands I see they are melted down lumps of turf like soil and there is no tattoo. This realization made me lucid enough to end the formidable escapade. But even in waking I couldn't escape.
The experience clouded my psyche with hopelessness and nihilism. I spent the day pacing around alone in my real life completely different environment searching for various possessions and misplacing others cyclically for hours feeling like the day was another chapter of the dream.
It's only now, sitting amongst the carefree youthful attendees of the juliette\soft shoulder_\water\___show that I've been able to escape the dread. Enough to thoroughly document it for my own sake. In case I forget what a relief it can be and how completely necessary it can be to step out of the comfort zone. No matter who I am work to. No matter how unwelcome I may or may make myself out to be, as unpleasant as my existence's disruption may be to what is natural in the places I will go, I can seize any reason to work on leaving what has become so familiar.
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edream post script edit : While I am on the subject of surreal dreams ask me about the tornado one I had a week later and I will be happy to describe that menace as well as I have near complete recollection of it. Or don't. You certainly weren't in it. Unless your name is Pam Wedemeyer.
http://youtu.be/evMVTZgxyVk
