Monday, June 25, 2007
Nightmare on Gallowmere Avenue!
Again with the Gallowmere title pimpery, I know, but if I can get away with it, why not?
Shoot me already.
So I didn't actually know what I was going to write about when I cracked open the Gallowmere info noggin', this little protective covering intelligently designed for regulating and safe guarding the information which relays to Gallowmere. I mean, initially it was an accident, the goddamn thing is as fragile as an eggshell. And I don't get why it has arms coming out of its wazoo, and this strange little navel-looking thing on it which serves no purpose whatsoever. Here's to Michael Behe and his ingenious troop of intelligent design theorists! But since I'm already in here, and it takes some time to mend back all the shattered fragments of the noggin's shell, I figured I might as well say something.
I want to talk about dreams a bit. The things intrigue the hell out of me. I have dreaming periods, times of the month where I have the wildest, craziest dreams, and they ooze out into my dream tampons (i.e. pillows). But after the period's up, they cease for a bit, and of course come back in full effect.
The types of dreams I have are strange, of course, but nothing worth writing about. OK, maybe just a bit worth writing about so I can go somewhere with this entry. I don't find them to be me "connecting" with anything or anyone else in the astralplanes or any of that kooky New Age bullshit. I'm very down to earth in my completely detached, head in the clouds sort of way. I do, however think that my dreams are mildly metaphorical. Metaphors and conjurations of the imagery, thoughts, and ideas which preoccupy the icky gray stuff between my ears. I don't necessarily know how much sense some of them make. Some of them are like raw, interactive David Lynch movies. Like this one buried in my dream logs:
05/24/06A man is picking up his child from a babysitter. His child is nothing but a mangled mound of flesh with nubby legs. The man, however loves it more than any parent could love a child. He kisses it. He says it's adorable. The thing slips through his arms like it's made of butter. The father running madly chases the baby into the sunlight. The baby squiggles around on the floor, making twisted cooing noises.
Disregard the stilted style of writing. That was written after waking up, and I may or may not have had a hangover from chugging absinthe the night before... which could explain a few things. But I doubt such a thing could make any sense. But now when I think of it, it could be how some parents celebrate their ability to reproduce as one might celebrate breaking the world record for eating the most pie in an hour, or shooting laser beams from their eyes. And it might be how some parents think their babies are the most special beings on earth (next to themselves) even if they're as hideous as say... mangled chunks of meat. Who knows, that was all extemporaneous. Anyway, let's look at a dream that I was able to easily rationalize:
04/14/07I was operating a trampoline business out of a school gym. People were in line to try out my trampoline. A fat woman came into this trampolining place and asked if she could jump. I told her she exceeded the weight limit. She told me I couldn't send her away and invited her friends. They were just as big as she was. Some were bigger. The fat women kept endlessly coming through the door. Fat woman after fat woman after fat woman. They flooded the room. I stood staring in distress and disbelief.
That one is easy, a real introspective dream. I always have ideas bouncing around in my head. Sometimes I get big ideas, ideas I'm not ready for, or can't manage yet. No matter how hard I try to get rid of them, they stay, and more keep coming. More keep coming until I'm overwhelmed and buried in their cellulite and belly-button cheese. My dreams themselves aren't ideas I let "bounce around in my head" however. They're too incongruent and stupid to do anything with. But they're entertaining, disorienting, and sometimes cathartic. Their function for me is to actually flush some of the excess ideas bouncing around in my head, helping me to rationalize their insignificance.
Either that, or I'm nucking futs...
