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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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More dreams, half forgotten and not written down, carelessly thinking that they would linger in memory. Last night I watched a movie - Ironically entitled "Happiness". Perhaps you've seen it. Billed as a comedy that somehow is a little too dark and overpowering, it put me out of sorts.
SO 2 dreams, one - a simple recipe card with a table of italic paragraphs on it, perhaps 5 rows by 7 columns. I can't remember what it said.
And two: I am at a friends, sleeping over with a girlfriend in an attic, somewhere in the country, a farmhouse, old bed, exposed wood and beams. And I get out of bed to go outside, at the foot of it is a garden spider, large and bulbous, the kind that spin their webs in front of your porch light, it climbs up it's web and hides behind a support. The bed fills the attic, I have to squeeze past the spiders hiding place to go outside.
Something is happening, there is a party, it is dark, I run into another ex, it's her place, we arrange to meet, later on, groups of people over the hill in the field, still dark outside, something is going on. I shouldn't be meeting her, but I feel doomed. . .their is sex, but no passion, no eroticism, the details elude me, we are to meet again, dissatisfaction, in the attic my dream girlfriend is still sleeping, but there is something I'm not realizing, I don't know what it is, it's eluding me and both of them have disappeared. The spider is upstairs waiting and I must go back to sleep.
2 dreams, neither satisfactory.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
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Not that exciting, really, not nearly as exciting as the title might suggest. It's evening, and I'm standing at the backdoor of an old house with 3 girlfriends. One of them is faceless, anonymous, unknown, the second is jealous, the third is trying the door. I'm in love with the third and want her to go into the darkened house to find a present I have left hidden for her. She is young, beautiful, lithe with dark hair. . .we're excited, and in a world all to ourselves. But #2 is very jealous and is going to make a scene, #1 is silent. And I wake up.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
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I've been having more dreams as of late, just nothing worth noting. Dissatisfied dreams, one dream of a familar place (the intersection of 14st and 17ave SW) - autumn, walking across the street to find they've redone it entirely, paved it with cobblestones, no cars allowed, colored leaves scattered over the stones, crossing from south to north to find myself completely lost in a new/old neighborhood. File this one under 'lost in familiar places'.
But, good news, I've a new boxspring. Recalling that for the past 2 months I've been sleeping in my kids beds this is an improvement, at first it wouldn't fit, but bouncing upon it made it fall finally into place. Which is good, as I was worried about falling through. And so I've begun to clean the house, which for 2 months has been stalled, the lack of box-spring my final excuse against cleaning, now to move the heaps of linen from the living room floor into the bedroom, remove the quilt from the floor, pick up the pillows, maybe even sweep the floor and vacuum. . .arrange my neckties, hang my clothes. . .
I'm running out of excuses.
I've set up a pen and paper beside my bed, to jot down those dreams of relevance, as I've noted I've begun to remember them more. Credit the boxspring.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
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No dreams last night, no doubt due to the handfuls of chocolate covered espresso beans I consumed before bed. No sleep either, for that matter, but not for lack of trying. Rather a fugue of images, attempted mandelas to lure me to fall asleep, there were some half remembered fragments, but they disappeared as I drifted in and out. A nap in the afternoon brings me close but there's a knock at the door, the plumber is wondering if he can look at the pipes, he takes his time, I try again. . .scattered images fleeting across my eyelids is all. Tonight, perhaps, will be different. This might help. . . http://www.leogeo.com/ (*Note: You will need to enable pop-ups. No, they won't be the annoying kind that tell you you're the One Millionth Visitor to the site. . .)
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
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This is a recurring dream I had until I turned 30, and then it stopped.
Always it begins the same. . .there is a warning, somehow I recieve it, over the radio, perhaps I see the contrails in the sky. It's war and I have 20 minutes to get out of the city. . .there is traffic chaos, many people are electing to stay. . always, as I get to the edge of the city the bombs go off, once, crouched behind the concrete foundations of some house on the edge of Calgary, super bright lights reach fingers around me, the initial gust that blows the shrapnel of houses, glass, steel. In another dream I have reached the edge of Edmonton, forested ponds, people naked in them swimming, then boiling alive as the bombs go off.
And perhaps the most odd, In London, Clapham, leaving my house to try and escape the city, a warning via radio, everyone on the street is having a garage sale, I can't resist; there are all sorts of Antiques, I am torn, the urgency to escape the city, the possibility of discovering some antique treasure, a bargain, the vendors don't seem too concerned. . ."After all, you can't take it with you . . ." one of them jokes. . .
I should note these are not nightmares, just dreams. Some more curious than others, but again, I've not had a dream of nuclear destruction since I turned 30.