Bad dream number now.
Starting to remember my dreams again after a week unstoned.
This morning’s pre-dawn dream took place in an amalgamation of Mexico, Florida, Greece, the terror attacks n France, and the film Brazil.
It was a huge city and all was night, the colors muted, dim murky browns and grays, even the light was dark, or rather the sad lack passing as light – more like medieval torches.
Kept touching my wife to make love but she was so busy she didn’t notice, and when I told her, she looked around in shock at the flux of surrounding people and said it’d be months before we could be alone.
We were separated while I looked for fotos and grass, neither which appeared. People tried to help me but made things worse. I worried wife would be worried and tried to call her on my flip fone, but the zero kept disappearing. Asked people to help and they’d point at the fone saying there’s the zero’s right there, and it was, then they’d vanish and I’d try to dial with no zero. Finally realized I didn’t have to dial, could go to contacts and punch her name, so of course the contact button disappeared.
All this time there are fires and gun shots and rioting in the streets, authorities shooting people, mobs running in fear as I wandered on.
I didn’t feel fear, just worry for wife and serious frustration I couldn’t dial the fucking fone.
All the people were dusky-skinned except wife and me . . . don’t know what color the shooting cops were because they were wrapped in riot gear.
Like to remember my dreams because they give me a feel for my emotional state, plus they’re frequently surreal and fascinating when they’re not boringly mundane. Think I have some issues.
Lady said she wants to go downtown during The Republican convention. I told her it’d be unwise because it’s going to be white Nazis with guns and police with guns and Republicans with guns with protesters in between and people were going to be hurt, be killed, be locked up — she said, oh, I don’t believe any of that’s going to happen. Sometimes I wish I lived in her world.
So at some point, even though it’s illogical and dangerous, we’ll ride our bicycles down and hope for the best, hope we’re not arrested for watching, hope a stray bullet doesn’t say hello. She’s an innocent, thinks all people are good, while I see good and beast.
I’m in a foul mood due to dream and money and worry about cat’s health and wife’s health and my health and the business stress wife is under and the political darkness creeping our nation and how I can’t do anything about any of it except spin my grin and hope for best as worst eats inside.
So many of us and the world in a dark place, I know I’m not alone, but being an unsociable hermit twit, my misery doesn’t love company.
What Doesn’t Kill Ya
Looking for the funny
but it hides behind the money
which done went to town
Need some peace of mind
but it laughs at my kind
says get behind and push this mud
down the road
I talk but no one hears
so live disgruntled fear
stumble through the tears
As frog I seek the kiss
to lift from this to bliss
but discontinued Princess
Can’t protect my loved ones
see dark instead of sun
my tries seems never won
sez heart’s mirror hangs in void
I see good and beast
So put one foot in further
seek some good discover
forgive forget the other
and carry load
– Smith, 7.16.2015
Just realized I frequently say serious things in frivolous forms.