Dream 11/29/09

I don't know why I have these kinds of dreams. I assume the anxieties I felt at the time I had this one fed its imagery and its meaning.

It all starts as I move into a new home. This new home is somehow connected to the back of a bar. We share some of the same rooms. I have access to the hoses and tanks that feed the many bar taps. Opposite a wall of them I have access to a bathroom. Water rushes out of the bathroom intermittently as the bar washes it's dishes. The floors are slotted to allow the water to drain. While some things seem out of place everything is in order.

I survey my locale and place my belongings. I'm renting from an old landlord, the same I had in my last years in Boulder, Colorado. He was a fair man. He cut us a good deal, the deal he made with the person who initially rented the home where I stayed. Her name was Alison. She was married at the time and needed the space to accommodate her husband and their four cats. It was a lovely little place located centrally. Out the front window you had an unblocked view of the Flatirons. It was hard to believe that they were actually there. The first time I saw them I experienced what could be described as the sublime. Off in the distance they stood older than time, larger than life. They cut a heroic profile on the horizon. Yet, in the foreground a gas station sign buzzed and cars whooshed past oblivious to this majestic view. I was dizzy from sleep deprivation, lack of food, and the altitude and there were those mountains.

The mountains weren't in my dreams, but Alison was. I noticed some things lying about that weren't mine. I knew that someone else was living in the place, and my old landlord hadn't mentioned this. That's when I saw Alison sitting at a chair seemingly engrossed in her laptop. I caught a glimpse of her from behind and as I moved around to the front of her I could see that she was only dressed in her underwear. That was hardly the most outstanding thing about her at this time. She was horribly damaged and disfigured.

Alison was missing both of her legs at about mid-thigh. One of her arms was missing as was one of her eyes. As soon as I saw her she explained her situation. She claimed that she was jumped by a girl and the girl's boyfriend. I had never seen so much damage. I asked if they were caught. She didn't seem to be to bothered by this fact, and her demeanor was quite chipper given her situation. She reported it as if it were just another one of the mundane malaise moments in all our lives. She could have just told me that she had her car booted. She would have reported the same way. Her one good hand kind of dangled there as if a child had pinned it on her like the donkey's tail. It swung from the last bit of flesh that held it. She was a pitiful sight, but her spirits spoke otherwise.

She needed a lift. I had to carry her to the bathroom. I did so and the full weight of her injuries settled in. I could see that her head had been badly beaten and that the back of her head looked more like pottery in its regular shape and contours. Whoever had reconstructed her skull was inspired by terracotta or porcelain. As she used the bathroom without my help and behind closed doors, I sat down and began to cry. I was sorry for her severe damage. Perhaps I was crying for her. Maybe that part of her brain that would have felt remorse and shame was beaten quiet, but I cried.

The dream becomes more scattered at this point as I see my other roommate, one who also shared this house with me and Alison. His name was Robert. He appeared in the dream as he appeared to me most of the time when we lived together. He was in a pair of exercise shorts, wearing a tank top, and punching at the keys on his Macbook. That's when an unforeseen man came in. This was Michael, a guy I knew from grade school. He was never much of a ladies man per se, but he always had them around. Those he liked were quickly plucked away by his friends who would often come around. I never did that though I know I had at least one or two chances to do so. He was quick to take Alison away.

Now the dream blends into the anxieties of my current state. The sounds of women moaning and screaming in ecstasy coming from my ceiling, the shuffling of weight, sheets, and feet. This is what I heard when Mike took over the care taking duties of Alison.

Current anxieties overlaid on old characters and old passions from my past. The dream ends there.