Archive | January, 2019

I Dreamed that I punched a Repugnantcan

26 Jan

I lived in a fairly large city. I went up cement steps leading to a contemporary glass building. Inside, I was first at a restaurant with long, narrow tables. I think it specialized in noodles and sushi.

Next, in the same building, I went shopping in a huge…shop. I think it sold groceries, among other things. It looked something like Market of Choice.

I felt lonely and melancholy, recalling that I used to shop here with friends….well, frenemies, so of course I was better off without them. But I used to be so sociable, and now I was so alone.

The best part of the shop was a section where they had antique dolls. I was in there, gazing in wonder at some silk-clad Japanese dolls and little porcelain dolls.

A tall, slender, and young female employee with dark blond hair was in an aisle on her knees, stocking merchandise. I went into her aisle and recognized her. Maybe I greeted her. She said, “Susan, [name of another employee] told me that you’re too loud. You’ve got to keep your voice down.”

My mood abruptly shifted from delighted at antique dolls to hurt, shocked, ashamed, and humiliated. I backed away. I considered leaving the shop without buying the many items in my grocery cart.

Next, I was back in the restaurant, where I returned to my table and picked up a dinner roll I’d dropped on the floor.

Next, I was still in the shop, but in a narrow back corridor, the kind that leads to restrooms and water fountains and emergency exits.

An old white woman who was short and skinny and had (probably dyed) short black hair rudely looked me up and down. She said, “A Democrat. Yes, you’re a Democrat.” She moved past me. “Democrats are boring.”

If this happened in real life, hopefully I’d reply, “First of all, no, they’re not. Second, I’m registered Green Party. Third, Repugnantcans are fascist white male supremacists.”

But in the dream, I didn’t say that.

I punched her in the face.

She fell to the floor and lay there moaning and exclaiming, so in seconds I went from feeling satisfied to feeling guilty. I guess I was causing too much noise, even without speaking.

I felt terrible, so I bent down and tried to help the harpy up, but then she started gloating and laughing at me, while a couple other shoppers watched, so I left her on the floor.

Keep Your Bad Vibes to Yourself

24 Jan

Apparently, I pay doctors and nurse practitioners to traumatize me. I guess that’s one of the things you can expect if you’re an empath in this asshole-infested world.

I dislike creepy assholes. I dislike arrogant and bossy assholes. I dislike judgmental assholes. And I dislike people who are all of the above.

He wanted me to bring a list of my meds, so I did. This is 2019; I’m sure plenty of people bring lists of their meds on a smartphone. If you have a problem with smartphones, that’s your problem. Don’t give off creepy vibes and snap at me just because I didn’t waste a tree on my list.

I’ve wondered if most patients can’t stand him, but of course not all patients are full-blown empaths. Maybe most don’t notice his bad energy or don’t even notice how brusque and bossy and disrespectful he is. I don’t know how people couldn’t notice.

Talking Cats and Ramen

23 Jan

I dreamed I was one of three people who died and became cats. We were talking cats in the Bardo or some such place. The three of us gathered together, and I was expecting a dharma talk and expected the other two to be Enlightened, so I was surprised that one of them, a chubby white and brown cat—maybe a short-haired Persian—was curled up in a giant bowl of ramen and spilled noodles over the edge and onto the flat white surface we occupied. This cat was somewhat wiggly and, at the end of the dream, was reaching over the edge to grab the spilled ramen.

*

Earlier, I dreamed that I just moved to the house in Kansas, but it was a bigger and more elegant house furnished beautifully with antiques, mostly Victorian and Edwardian. Other people were there, but they weren’t nasty relatives harassing me; they were friendly people being nice to me, people I happened to know who’d moved to the area or neighborhood.

I wandered around the house a little and was impressed with the antiques. In one room, I think a bedroom, there was a dark brown cabinet. I thought a yellow armchair was attached to it before I realized that no, it was in front of it.

Someone came to visit, and it was a jerk from elementary and high school, but now he was being nice and polite. In the midst of conversation, I paused and asked, “Wait a minute. You lived in Indiana. What are you doing in Kansas?”

I was so enamored with the house that it wasn’t until toward the end of the dream that I started to remember in the back of my head that this was Kansas, a horrible place full of overt misogynists, and I began to wonder, despite the house, if I could stand dwelling in such a place. (In real life, the answer turned out to be an emphatic NO.)

Playmakers, Death, and Tea

22 Jan

I had a dream in which I lived in…a warehouse. It certainly looked like a warehouse. I had my own little corner loft where my bed was located.

A couple of friends were helping me create a play in that same warehouse. We had various unfinished stage sets–structures made of wood and chip board that hadn’t been painted yet–while those two, who were actors, were wrapped up in rehearsing. One was female and the other male. They somehow managed to break a couple of holes in a set–maybe it was a canvas background–and I was beginning to get anxious about getting work done on the sets. I’m not sure what I was working on, probably costumes.

I mentioned to the two of them that I’d appreciate it if they’d take a break from rehearsing and work on the set. They made some excuse, like they needed to get the choreography right, and they exchanged a look that convinced me that they were just humoring me and weren’t really going to go through with this play. They probably thought I was insane.

*

I was an observer, like I was watching a movie.

The setting was a hotel, I think. At least two characters were thieves or something low-class and not respectable.

In a large space just beyond a corridor (both with simple white walls), someone sneaked up behind a man in a waiter’s uniform (white jacket) and killed him somehow. He fell to the floor.

A busy and authoritative woman in black came along with a pot of tea. She was probably the housekeeper. I thought she was going to see the dead body, scream, and drop the tea pot, making it shatter. Instead, she approached a big barrel-like thing full of tea and poured some in. It was in a row of such barrels on the floor and against the wall, along one side of a hallway. A couple of other busy people were in the hallway. First, she said something about more tea, but after pouring some in, she said, “Maybe that’s a little too much tea.”

Sociopath Detox

20 Jan

The following is, I’m fairly certain, the first poetry I’ve written since The Worst Frenemy in the Galaxy dissed my poetry. This means it took over two years.

And…apparently this website doesn’t know that poetry exists, since apparently I can’t write here in single space, which is annoying.

SOCIOPATH DETOX

Did you truly think

Everyone except you deserves consequences

And that after you insulted and falsely accused

and yelled at me for fifteen hours

After my years of wasting time and energy

Practicing self-negation for your unworthy self,

That I’d continue tip-toeing

around you and waiting on you?

Your delusions of entitlement are limitless.

 

Inside it was already over

I’d been sick of you for two years:

Your endless criticisms and gaslighting and lies.

Whenever you cancelled our plans,

I exhaled in relief: I wouldn’t see you that day,

A day without your soul-sucking energy.

 

Three months earlier, my mother died

Along with her shouts, her withering scorn,

her false accusations, her cigarette stench.

 

After four and a half decades,

I finally have no vampires telling me who I “am”

And can finally start figuring out who I AM.

 

*

Closeness to you

Was like associating with someone who was gathering

blackmail material against me

While simultaneously trying to prevent me

From acquiring blackmail material against them.

 

Closeness to you

Was like constantly carrying a shield

I must hide behind and keep thickening

only to keep discovering that it isn’t sturdy enough.

 

Closeness to you

Meant never knowing which mood or personality I’d meet that day

And dreading every time we meet up,

Knowing you’d find anything and everything to use against me.

 

That’s not real friendship.

A Nightmare while Napping

19 Jan

It’s probably not normal to have a nightmare while napping.

I dreamed I was traveling with a group of friends. We were in a building–oh, hell, this was weird. Okay, first, I’d just found out that I was probably pregnant. I was freaking out and hoping it wasn’t true. In a shop inside what looked like an old wooden building, I went in with a female friend, and I was frantically wandering the aisles–it looked like a tiny drug store. There were thermometers that resembled pregnancy tests. I kept seeing those thermometers and thinking they were the tests. First, I saw them on display, then I saw them in many rows stacked in back. I don’t remember finding the pregnancy testers.

I do remember deciding that if I were pregnant, I’d get an abortion, then I regretted no longer having health insurance.

After all that, I was in this different, deeper part of the building with a small group of friends. We stood in a ramp-like corridor talking, but I forget about what.

Soon I wandered and was separated from the group. I wandered around inside the building, which seemed huge.

I wandered into a room noisy with people. It was carpeted in white. I was anxious around these people and wanted to get out of there. I headed toward a staircase, but soon I stepped in red stuff on the carpet and looked down, and a paramedic or someone like that was bending over what looked like a dead person, or at least someone who was dying.

I backed up, trying not to stand or step in blood, and overheard that there was a shooting.