Catching the sun and a ghost dream
I spent three hours walking and sitting in a park today, catching the sun, recharging my inner battery. I realized, that there are some things that I enjoy, after all. Pink, kitschy flowers, a sunny day, a long walk.
But the feeling isn’t right, like I should be enjoying it more. Like I’m telling myself to enjoy the stuff, making myself actually do it.
I spend more energy to feel something than usually.
I also haven’t been remembering my dreams for a very long while now. I remember only one, which I had a few days ago.
It was about my grandma’s flat. It is not there anymore, because it belongs to the company that used to employ my grandfather, so all the stuff isn’t there anymore, and someone else has likely moved in.
In the dream, I was supposed to stay in the flat overnight, alone, after my grandma was already dead, but I really, really didn’t want to. The flat was haunted. The piano played by itself randomly, and the cooker was split in halves.
So I went to sleep at my friend’s (who lives in another town in reality), and I came to a haunted house, which had weeping white ghosts, or half ghosts, everywhere except the living room. The problem was that I was supposed to get from the living room to another part of the house (or rather a pretty big mansion), and I couldn’t get past the ghosts without touching them. And they were so sad and wanted to be touched and hugged very badly. They were going through the halls, rooms and the yard, all covered with a silvery dusty substance. And when a living person touched them, he or she changed into one of them – half undead, and became covered with the same substance. There was only one solution to that: one had to jump through the floor in one certain place in the house, into the living room through it’s ceiling, and became living again, only covered with ash – a regular ash. So getting anywhere from the living room was really difficult.
Vampires
I was in a hospital of some kind, and I was a vampire but was able to hide the features. One of the doctors was half vampire.
They all knew some of us were vampires and they started testing all people’s blood and features. I got away because my fingernails were short and regulars. Three other were caught, because their features were showing, and they were chained to the wall in a place where the sunlight was supposed to be in a few hours.
Those three were somehow able to control my actions. They almost made me wait with them for the sunlight, but I managed to get out of their control and I flew off the window (passing the half vamp mad doctor, an elderly, grey-haired man, chanting madly in a dark room) and flew with supersonic speed very far away, before the dawn.
Then I was an observer of trading something between two persons, in broad daylight, but in an abandoned place, in solitude. Both were scared, one of them started bleeding from her mouth and another one from his eyes, and they noticed they both were vampires and someone had set them up and wanted them dead.
Then I woke up.
Mage wars
I dreamt about being involved in wars of powerful mages.
I’m not sure what the wars were about, I don’t remember much, except the paralyzing fear when I was standing on the top of the stairs in an enormous golden-brown hall, a dark blue robe on my back, a wand in my right and an axe in my left hand, waiting for the unknown enemy (aliens?) to show up.
I remember my stomach hurting and its contents going up to my throat out of pure, primal fear, and a single thought: “If I fuck this one up, everyone will die”.
And then I woke up.
Empathy III
My brother says that my biggest problem is that I feel so much true compassion for people. This actually is true. When somebody is in pain, physical or mental, other people say they’re sorry, they express how they sympathize with that person, they discuss their feelings and generally do a lot of talking, “ohs” and other relevant noises, and then they go on about their business.
I don’t.
Instead I feel the pain which feels like swimming in liquid cotton. Instead I get sharp aches in my stomach. I get a numb, pulsing pain in my left hand. I get white hairs. I get a lot of bad dreams. I get a dark and pulsing sadness. I get the feeling that nothing is ever real. In several combinations at the time. The feeling is usually so overwhelming that I usually don’t say much at the moment, because nothing feels relevant or appropriate, which can be interpreted (and often is) as being rude and not compassionate.
And, contrary to what one might think, I sort of appreciate all those things. Not because I like the pain, no. I don’t. It makes me feel sick and helpless and hopeless and numb. I appreciate them because sometimes those emotions that come directly from my empathy are the only thing that give me energy of a certain kind, make me feel alive and make me feel emotions and remember that I once turned myself into an emotional vegetable on purpose, in order to not feel sorrow at all. I blocked all the emotions as an effect of blocking the bad ones, but now I understand that joy would be worthless without sadness.
Maybe there is a way to not feel the physical pain when my empathy turns itself on. I don’t know. It probably won’t happen unless I learn to express those emotions to people (at least to the ones I love) verbally or through the touch (this is where we come back to the communication issues again), which I doubt will occur soon. I’m still too blocked, emotions still hurt me, even the good ones. This is one of my biggest demons. I learn to feel again, and when the emotion is strong I get petrified for a while.
I have to learn to feel without hurting myself.
A touch that made me hurt
I had a very weird experience a few days ago.
One of my colleagues, not even a friend, just a person whom I meet at parties at our friends’ or in a pub somtimes, has shown certain feelings towards me. Nothing clear. It was a simple touch. He was getting out of a pub and wanted to say goodbye, and he touched my back for two seconds. But it wasn’t a kind of touch that you usually grace your pub colleagues with, it was something that you reserve for a lover.
I felt a surge of weird energy through my body, going right to my fingers and toes, feeling like they’d explode, and I’m not sure it was his energy or mine. I couldn’t ground that energy at the time and I couldn’t save it for later, so I simply had too keep it the way it was and it almost hurt. I didn’t know what to say, and he left very quickly.
Yeah, I had noticed his glances, but I wasn’t sure what they meant. After all I’m married and he knows that perfectly well. And besides, guys simply don’t feel that way about me, because I’m the person they like to have a few beers and talk about movies or photography with, not one of the slender and beautiful women they usually fancy in black laces and high heels.
I feel really weird and don’t know what to do with the fact in order to not hurt that man (no, of course I don’t want to go to bed with him, I’m married, for crying out loud.)
A few hours after this event I had a nightmare about our dog dying, and there was a lot of blood and guts involved; I really want to remember prettier dreams, but somehow I remember the ones like this. This is the way the painful energy gets out or makes itself known.
A dance that was totally wrong
I was on a trip with my friend A and we ended up in some kind of school, where we were supposed to participate in dances and other recreational activities. I remember only that she liked one of the men in staff and I offered to pick him up for her, because she was too shy to do it. He was also in this dancing group.
We were supposed to dance a hanter dro, which is a popular Breton type of dance, and only I knew the steps. They tried to make me dance something else and it was completely out of the beat. And besides, they danced to the right, not to the left; what the hell were they thinking? I’ve no idea.
I was also walking about the school and meeting people, but I don’t remember anything else.
My sleep has been more sound recently and I don’t remember as much as I would like to. It could be that I’m simply tired (I also sleep more than usually), but I have a suspicion that my friend Good Wizard has something to do with it. He’d like me to have a nightmareless, peaceful sleep, so he might have blocked too much. And the eight hour sleep doesn’t give me as much rest as usually, I often need a nap during daytime. Or this might be the recurring lack of serotonin issue, I hope it isn’t, or I’m going to waste another few months.
Trinitrotoluene and school
I was taking out some cash from an ATM in a huge, empty shopping mall at night. I thought I was alone, when a man approached me. I thought he was going to rob me, or watch me enter my PIN number, but no.
Instead, he put an old guitar full of TNT on a floor, and threatened to detonate it.
I panicked. I somehow knew that if he did it, he’d catalize the end of the world. So I started looking for a way to change his mind. I went to ask someone for help. I went to ask my Good Wizard for help! I flied over the mall. I plotted a very complicated plot, which I don’t remember at all. When all of it failed, I started running. Again.
I ended up in an empty school, watching the drawing and painting exhibition. I was in the middle of watching details of a drawing (it was so clear and detailed, I could probably draw it right now), when the school was filled with children. Very ill and very aggressive children, that tried to attack me. So I ran and hid. Again. And I desperately wanted to get out of there.
So I did the only thing I could in this situation: I became invisible. Not one hundred percent, about fifty, but it was enough to stop being attacked. I was halfway through the stairs when the stupid alarm rang.
Empathy II
I’ve got several new white hairs on my head, they haven’t been there just three weeks ago. I have weird, bad dreams that I don’t remember or don’t want to remember.
We all pay for our empathy with this.
Real life’s a dream
Every time I go back home from my music journeys, I get the weird feeling, that nothing here is real and I’m somewhere out of the reality, beholding everything happening in a slow motion, like in a dream, with no possibility to change my position.
The city isn’t real. People aren’t real. My “real life” problems aren’t real. Weather changes aren’t real. I’m in a Matrix of some sort, I can’t get out, and I can’t get inside life like all the others.
Sometimes there is something that seems real for a little moment: a person, a dog, a cat, a bird, a song, an undefined presence. But not for long. I can’t get a firm grip of it. I don’t live, I’m in a state of vegetation, hanging between worlds, parallel realities.
Sometimes the action of my dreams takes place in my town. Quite often, actually. And this alternative town, which isn’t stable, changes all the time and is full of ghosts and monsters, seems somehow more real than the one in the “real” life. That’s why I love my dreams, even if they are nightmares.
Running again
The action of this dream took place in my hometown, on an university campus that’s near my parents’ place. There are several dorms there.
One of the dorms was being destroyed. But there weren’t any machines doing that. It was disappearing piece by piece, looking like it was being eaten by a giant invisible monster. Attics of all the dorms were magically connected. The night was greyish-blue, the air was cool, and I saw everything perfectly.
On the roof of the destroyed building there were large stones and rocks, that contained little greyish-coloured opaque gems, that were the main target of the enemy. I was with a group of friends, who weren’t really looking like people. They were sort of looking like living dolls. But they were good and I loved them very much. We were hiding together and they protected me from the enemy, who tried to keep us away from the little gems. They must have had some meaning.
One of my friends, a grey-haired one, found a blueish gem embedded in a rock and he took it. I took a yellowish one, but we couldn’t take any more, because it would help the enemy locate us.
Then we found ourselves in a closed space, surrounded by the enemy (who had apparently found us) and we were supposed to jump into a hole in a floor, and go down through a soft sleeve tunnel to a safe place, where they wouldn’t hurt us. We managed to escape, but one of my friends stayed behind and was killed, while keeping the enemy away from us and letting us escape. We were very sad.
And I woke up.
