plural: (bowler)
[personal profile] plural
I took a nap this evening

I was exhausted

I just woke up
body tense and moving
from the after effects of a nightmare

it started out
as a fairly normal dream
perhaps even an enjoyable one

the scene was beside an Olympic swimming pool
obviously at private club

many of my family members
and various people from the last ten years of my life
were gathered

it was my birthday

there was some sort of official swim meet wrapping up
many of my friends had competed

afterwards the coach
another friend of mine
at least in this fiction

had scheduled a few extra races
just for fun
the first one was scheduled to start exactly at three thirty
and I was looking forward to it

I was lounging beside the pool
watching the last few races
with a couple of my close friends
talking and relaxing
one of my cousins kept dropping by
was competing but kept dropping by
to chit chat

one of my ex-girlfriends
comes up behind me
sliding her arms around me
and kissing me as if we were still dating
I am confused but go with it

she smiles wishes me luck in the race
and walks off

one of my friend
makes a smart ass gesture
and I shrug

returning to our conversation

this pattern
repeats itself

conversations with different friends
interrupted by different women from my past
some ex-girlfriends some casual dalliances

each time my friend
making some knowing grin

as if I was up to my old tricks

more than once there are breaks
where I go through all of my stuff
making sure I have what I need

and for some reason
the fact that I am wearing some sort of school sports uniform
is driven home as being a good thing on several occasions

the clock advances
it is three fifteen
my cousin joins the small group of us
toweling off her hair
at the close of a particularly expansive display of affection

unlike the others
she sighs and gives me a grow up already look
making some comment about
too many damn women in my life

I am called to a different area
a little bit away from the pool
where more of the guests are relaxing
under a tent with food and beverages

in a corner of the tent
where the caterers set up their preparation area
my mother calls me
having made some sort of snack for me
I am not hungry and try to refuse it
and she becomes upset

I try to explain that I am planning to race
in ten minutes and that I do not want to get a cramp
but she doesn't listen
instead starts attacking me verbally
telling me that I am not racing
that I am not eligible for the meet

I try to explain that it is just a fun race
tacked on to the end
but she isn't deterred
she starts railing on about how
the governor would have to give me special permission
in order to be eligible to compete

I sigh and try to concede
figuring it isn't much food
and willing to take the risk of cramps
just to pacify the situation

but she is unrelenting
going into how she has known the governor for years
and would know if she (the governor) had come by and given me permission
I am unable to get a word in edgewise

suddenly she shifts tack
starts going on about the behavior by the pool
and about my relations with women

still I can get no word in my defense

she starts railing about the last girl
a blonde named sharona
accusing me of taking advantage of her vulnerabilities
because she is in the middle of converting to Judaism

I start walking back towards the pool
continuing the discussion
it is three thirty five
and I have missed the start of my race

now I am upset
and make some comment like
"great you made me miss it"

still she goes on railing about various things
losing any trace of lucidity in my eyes

she switches rapidly from argument to argument
defending her position that I could not compete
to scolding me about my conduct with women

then launches into some cascade of conspiracy accusations
which even in my dream I could not sort out
but apparently a copy of a tabloid lying on a nearby table
provided the last missing piece of proof
that I was conspiring against her

I lost it
not in anger but in desperation
I was crying heavily
begging her to be sane
pleading for rationality

mother please
I need you to be sane
to be rational
please just for today
just for my birthday
please find a way

she is in my arms
obviously confused as I cry out
my words pour from my mouth
repeating the same mantra over and over
her anger melts into something else
watching me totally lose my composure

my cries somehow trigger a macro script
posting that tearful mantra to my journal
time and time again
with the beginning of each repeated cycle

now I realize
a dream like this is Freud's wet dream
but am not now
still in the aftermath of it
interested in dissecting it

I understand why many of these things arose
and even took the form they did in my dream
and I think later I will get around to making a post
which has been coming for some time
that touches on much of it
especially my conduct with women

but right now
I am a bit too shaken up
to get into it
and wanted more just to expunge it from my consciousness
by writing it here

Date: 2004-08-03 08:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] amazonwoman.livejournal.com
It's hard because you cant have a dream like that and just brush it off. What's it all mean and why. I am glad when we stop listening our dreams try again to tell us what's going, to wake up and listen, make a change. I like dreams like that. I have't dreamt for a long time and I miss it. Why don't I dream anymore.

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