Saturday, March 9, 2013

Dream: Walk of the lotus-eater

I went for a walk, but then I couldn’t find my way home. I didn’t remember where it was or what it looked like, inside or out, although I had a vague idea about the intersection of streets.

Along the way I checked out many buildings, but each was high off the ground and didn’t have steps. I didn’t know how the residents got into it.

Suddenly I found wasn’t wearing a top or bra, so I covered myself with my arms. I wondered how this had happened; it seemed so odd. I wouldn’t have left home like that.

In the street I saw a small primate and tried to catch it, thinking to return it to the zoo, but when I caught up to it, it turned on me and snarled. I showed it a stuffed animal to calm it, but it tried to steal the toy while saying, “This should be mine.” It seemed to hate me, which puzzled me as most animals react well to me.

I found a place I could get into and for some reason showed someone my cleavage, but then noticed there was a child in the room and so ran out. I didn’t understand what was happening to me.

While still trying to figure out where I was, I saw a diagram of an airport and assumed it must be O’Hare. It seemed awfully small and too close to the neighborhoods around it, as though there were no boundary areas.

I was lying on a stoop when I heard a plane faltering overhead and watched in horror as it dove nose first into the ground. A team of football players ran off the plane toward me. By then I had a blanket, which I pulled up over me as the plane exploded and debris landed on me.

Two cowboys were sitting on either side of me. I hoped one of them would take my hand, even out of sympathy. Finally, one of them did.

I found another place. Walking through, I saw various people cooking in various kitchens that were in the hallway. I sat down in a living room, hoping no one would realize I didn’t belong there. They handed out white pipes and started to smoke something green. I told them I have never smoked pot so they covered me in it.

I said, “Are you hoping I’ll be arrested, too?”

“Yes.” They wanted me to burn for being an uptight prude.

I told them that it was for health reasons, that my lungs were bad. They accepted that and me.

I tried to leave but there was no way I could jump down to the ground from the high doorway.

I marveled that I had gotten into all these different places.

I wondered that I couldn’t get out of this one.

I worried why I couldn’t remember where exactly my place was and what it looked like, inside or out, and about my odd behavior. Am I suffering from dementia? I wondered.