I had a night stuck full of angry dreams. They mostly involved being harassed by late night street denizens in the run down zone of the city that I always dream of.
I’m not positive what caused the attitude in these dreams, I don’t have that kind of power or knowledge; I can take a few guesses though. Something about the street we live on in that part of the neighborhood draws every angry addict for miles around. It’s possibly some odor in the shrubbery that is undetectable except by the deep unconscious of every screaming, dumpster diving, road sign kicking, yahoo junky in the greater Seattle area. I’m beginning to learn about the cast of characters by their 2am rants.
There’s The Whore. I call her that because she spent one late night yelling to her boyfriend/pimp that she “wasn’t a whore!” over and over again. I don’t know if she was yelling again last night, but one of the dreams involved some skank screaming about how she was going to keep her baby and nobody was going to tell her what to do. I’m attributing it to The Whore, one way or the other.
Not long after waking up from that dream, shaking with anger, I could hear somebody right below my window, surreptitiously shaking a spray paint can. In my sleepy haze I was tempted to grab my grandfather’s B.B. gun and do my best to make that can blow in the tagger’s hand.
Another possible factor in my angry dream marathon was the small cat attempting to get into the bedroom by trying to claw open the door, as well as sticking his snout beneath the crack and mewling like the little hell beast he is. I’m fairly sure this is what was responsible for the dream of me lifting someone off the ground by their hair and daring them, and the bald tough guy that charged up, to make me do something.
I awoke with that tired, clenched muscle feeling of an adrenaline overdose, and the feeling of wanting to beat the living hell out of anyone or anything that even looked at me with anything but love and admiration.
Maybe it’s that Mars is close to the planet – or so the internet rumor tells us, but I don’t know. I can tell you that it’s an aggravating way to start the day.
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2 comments:
aha! i will blame my weird dreams on mars! last night our downstairs neighbor -- usually rather quiet -- screamed at 4 in the morning. 4 in the morning on the dot. and michael and i both lifted our heads up at the same time, trying to figure out what the eff was going on. there were lots of footsteps and the moving of some small furniture. a-wha? i wish i had a periscope to lower to their window for a proper view.
and then i dreamed about a carnival.
I didn't have a dream last night. :(
But I did have a weird dream a week ago, where my brain kept cutting from scene to scene like an Mtv video. Except, each time my brain switched camera angles, it was a completely new, totally unrelated story line.
The most frustrating thing is that I KNEW that I was dreaming and exactly what was going on, but I was helpless to stop my evil driector's brain from creating some sort of horrible Lynchian vision.
Fortunately, I live with the Manager of our apartment complex and so we don't get many hooligans. That is with the exception of Dennis, who needs to learn to use his inside voice when he is outside.
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