I’m packing my bag, angrily. Righteously… urging my mom to leave with me. We’re in a hotel room with my father (and uncle I think) and I’ve broken out of a gaslit haze come to my senses that I have every right to get out of this toxic situation. In the background my father simpers, saying that’s not necessary, why don’t we go out to breakfast? He continues to ooze out nothings in his ingratiating matter. There’s no end to the emotional manipulation, the self centered behavior. I turn to my mom who I feel like I have broken through to, as though she sees with fresh eyes the ways of my dad, and the destructive affect each have on each other. She is hesitating.
Earlier in the dream…I’m in high school again. Except this me isn’t so repressed. I’m in the hallways, with my best friend M at the time, loudly calling people out, saying whatever I want to them, commenting on their behavior, being sharp, fire. M is the one trying to guide me away before I get into a fight or something. Sorta a role reversal compared to waking life.
A movie theater…a 3d animated film where Rihanna is the protagonist, fierce do-gooder on some sort of campus…I merge with her/her story and eventually end up in the hotel room.
Themes of self-assertion and feminine bonding in this dream.
I become lucid and go to the ocean. I am flying slowly. The waves are inches below me, the wind warm, the night purple and star-studded. I dive into the water.
The water is clear and blue, seems to be internally lit. I see several happily swimming golden blurs of dogs, I feel the joy, it seems like music is coming out of them. Immediately one swims up to me, much like a golden retriever but with an oddly circular human face. A slightly feminine voice, she says “You’ve found me!” I’m filled with an incredible peace and ecstasy. She makes me think of an older lady I grew quite close to in a hospital once.
She takes me on her back and we whirl through a number of places, I am trying to keep my balance on her back as she has become a long eel type creature. I am full of wonder. We pass through a high ceilinged kitchen with maze-like patterns on the wall.
We start to pass through a busy subway, all kinds of people and creatures milling about – and I’ve fallen off as we passed over a downward escalator. I look off worried about catching up as I notice my dog-eel friend has kept going and getting further away. A black girl with a small scar above her eye and a ponytail has stopped me with a knife in her hand, trying to keep me moving forward. I recognize her as a manifestation of me (shadow?) and start to struggle with her, grasping her wrist to keep her from stabbing me. I will myself to wake up in a panic, even though I am more frustrated than scared, even though I consider that her knife would not truly hurt me in the dream state.
I teleport to a bedroom. See a small girl’s head with two hair buns slightly greenish floating at the foot. I roll over and wake up.
I fill my backpack prepared for a adventure, step into the toilet and flush because its a portal into the city. I’m trying to escape the oppressive atmosphere of my family home. I’ve been wandering round the apartment/organizing my room feeling uncomfortable wanting to get away from my parents. My dad had brought gingerbread cookie dough home but after spending sometime opening and closing the fridge I couldn’t find it otherwise I would have packed that too.
Buying cigarettes w/ A. I ask the cashier how much a carton is of my brand and she pulls out two incorrect, massive packages where the cig boxes are all connected like a strip of condoms before she gets it right. She doesn’t have cartons of my type so I just buy one pack.
I’m at a childhood friend’s house, we are preparing for a party. I’m left on baking duty – making brownies. I notice the package of coconut sugar contains dexthromethorphan (if only, dream world!) and that I must be making dxm brownies. Surprised that my childhood friend is into the drug as I don’t meet many people who a. know about it b. love it.
Long red haired fellow I knew, a jolly sorta guy, named Daniel and I are climbing a silky red rope ladder into the air. Some sort of festival. I’m terrified; looking down I notice we are hundreds maybe thousands of feet from the ground. He notices I’m scared and detaches the ladder somehow to show me something fun. We fly through the air holding on to the silks; we fuck midair.
I’m walking alongside a freeway trying to find the festival/friends again. Scene changes and I’m in some carpeted techno-temple. An electronic flying device lifts me and ??? to the “altar” area of the room, where the priestess, clearly equipped with cybernetic technology, congratulates me in reaching the afterlife. I can’t fully understand her language but the gist of it is I have entered a higher plane of existence…She gives me a straw woven basket lid looking thing to carry my lower half while the flying device lifts me away from her and I land in a location with an escalator, knowing I must enter and face some sort of challenge on the upper floor.
I go in. Enter some platinum coated rooms with blinking lights and such all over. Feeling pretty confident. I have a laser gun and shoot several oncoming creatures, many are both humanoid and robotic. I face the final guy who has a pointy bearded triangular head and two opaque lenses on the top of his head for eyes. I kill or incapacitate him.
Go back down to the main floor. Am feeling good and all until the guy I thought I just killed turns up. I don’t have any of my weapons. He shows me a maplike paper with a few holes punched out of it, indicating that these are the times and places where he has died, saying that I will have to experience it sooner than later. He provided me this opportunity by plunging his needle like fingers into my nose and throat. I am oddly relieved as all this happens.
Soaring in the woven basket lid over a great river in a canyon…Wondering how much more I will get to do knowing I may die and undie infinitely.
black girl with long brown curls bowing down in the middle of a party saying she needs her goddesses, calling for oya?
i search the atmosphere for the orishas, am confronted by a red and yellow painted-lookin lizard
//wake up thankful to eleggua for answering me in my time of indecision and opening this path for me.
A seaside town. Bright puffy clouds in a blue sky
bubbly colors everywhere, people’s clothes, the paint on the houses and shops
I go in the van
I wade through a subway river filled with fish that leap at me
Emerge, realize it’s a dream, begin flying. soar up into the clouds and all around until i drop into the subway again due to a split second of self doubt and somewhat lose some lucid ability to do as i please
dream continues with me partially lucid
some friends and i gather in a house. maya is there, seems to be manic
i go to an art festival in a convention hall and collect artwork, looking for pieces that might inspire my friends. someone gifts me an ink drawing of a crow, not realistic, framed with black cloth. i obtain some pretty sparkling embroidery threads
i go back to the van to organize the art and find some of my older artwork tucked away. drawn to a thing i made in this dream wold which is a 3d unicursal hexagram shaped object with paintings all around it, baphomet in a meadow type thing on one side. the painting is on a foldable wooden structure about nine feet tall standing on the ground. i consider that i must take pictures of all my work so i can finally make that dang website
…then Angel wakes me up, saying chi needs my credit card to fund a site host! i tell hymn i only consent if the server can hold multiple websites so i can make my art site. 🙂
I am filled up with ghosts. Like I’m being dragged into metaphysical tar. Angel sitting in front of me plays with my hands like chi is trying to pull me back from it. We are in a cemetery. There’s a gate in front of us, people chilling there look at me smiling like it’s all a joke and I’m about to snap out of it and join them. I break out of the ghost-muck and start bouncing up and down playing with Angel.
A dream with a dress rehearsal; I’m volunteering to help put it together. I am running around the city looking for items the directors have asked for. Through old wooden hotel rooms. I go back to the theater and each of us volunteers is given a bag of groceries…fresh veggies! Some are unhappy wondering where the chips and stuff are.
Deck: the deviant moon tarot deck
Spread: the four of swords spread designed by asaliearthwork, (https://www.asaliearthwork.com/blog/2016/12/21/solstice-four-of-swords-restwork-spread)
- Bottom: What is my sleeping path?
- The Tower
- Falling from the tower, a sudden upset/upheaval/change. As he falls his fancy coattails unfurl behind him, so well dressed, doesn’t stop the fall. The tower crumbles.
- Left: Nightmare (relationship to fear)
- Seven of Wands, reversed
- She’s running thru the woods, small hands lifted in surrender/defense. There are bleeding scratches on her arms and legs, perhaps from the thorny thicket of wands growing all around her, each of which is topped with a claw-like flower. Her childlike hands stick out to me. This scene makes me think of the violent tussel I went through the last time I saw my father, and parent’s general interest in perceiving me as a lost child in the woods, incapable of finding my own way. Smothered and helicoptered for her entire life, how can this child make things happen for herself?
- Right: Dream (relationship to hope)
- 2 of cups
- A bond, lovers, attraction, two energy-complexes come together. The female figure on the card has a hand resting on her belly, funny to me as bellyrubbing has been a frequent part of this relationship. The male figure, a skeleton wearing a red coat lined with gold, makes me think of a pirate. Seems to relate to Angel, who I in a sense “ran away to sea” with.
- Top: What is my waking path?
- 8 of cups, reversed
- She moves on, away from the culmination of her past achievements. Perhaps she is seeking a deeper truth, one that speaks to her emotional and spiritual senses. Like I have left school and haven’t looked back yet, escaping the boxlike learning of university and family life.
I have an art show in a dimly lit art space. All my paintings are up, people come and are fascinated by my work. Someone gives me a special “artist’s travel card” by which I may take the buses…the bus never comes. I wake up somewhat dismayed to lose all the success I seem to have achieved in the dream world lol
My university has morphed to the size of a national park. I am running through nature in search of a secret hideout I have made to hide from my irl ex-lover Paul. In flight I ponder my mixed feelings for the kinky sex we share. On one hand, I fear and loathe having certain boundaries crossed by him. Yet despite leaving him several times, I still seek his particular brand of sexual pain. With him I experience a sense of utter surrender that I have found nowhere else in my life.
He finds me in the forest. I lay with him for a little bit….
I have painted something on a lecture hall chalkboard in the middle of the night. Later, I am confronted by Anya, one of my art professors, who very calmly asks me if I did it. She seems to be implying that it has been well received and people are curious to find the creator. I stand silent before her, weighing in one hand the prospect of fame-filled career and the other, the freedom of certain anonymity.
In real life, I have left university for about a month now, where I have been studying art. Instead of completing my final class required for the completion of my degree – not an art class, but a general ed requirement to be taken over the summer- I have run off with a stranger who offered me a life on the road. I have been living/loving in the desert for the past few weeks and we are now traveling north, having reached a major city in the northern area of my state. The person I have been traveling with espouses an artistic life that doesn’t revolve around commercialization and self-promotion as well as feeding into my life-long desire to live off the grid.
I go for a walk outside the van. A caramel colored little poodle is hunched over a carcass of some sort, eating.. i stop, and it turns to look at me with. It’s eyes are rabid. A moment passes, then it leaps on me and sinks in its teeth. I try to shake it off but can’t so I start screaming in attempt to scare it off.
In real life, I start screaming so Angel wakes me up. I don’t think I have ever screamed myself into waking reality before, which is something quite common for my father, who my mother and I frequently saved from rocky dreams.