Dreams of Monsters and incomprehension.
Jan. 30th, 2007 09:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolven7I'm searching for the right workds, to get my points across; I'm trying to explain to everyone how and why everything I'm doing matters, very much. Talking to George Rainbolt, talking to various members of my faculty, and there is some fudamental point that they are either misunderstanding, or that I'm not explaining well, enough. Something that, when they see it, inspires only revulsion, instead of awe.
Talking with my step-mother and my sister about the steps necessary for people to understand what's going on.
Madame Foster, on the back deck of someone's house, seeking to cast a spell, designed to enact some form of retribution, something that makes things work for her, instead of her always having to do the work for everyone else. Courage the Cowardly Dog was in the components for the spell, but she felt terrible for what she was about to do, and let him go, before continuing with the spell.
Something about a museum that's also a zoo,whee the exhibits are alive, but aren't in any real orde. There's a new addition...
Somthing about a party at [Bad username or site: scamort and <lj user=damnedsaint @ livejournal.com]'s place, wandering around wiht drunken abandon, seeking to kill some time and thought, if only temporarily. I've filled an ice cube tray, and I'm walking it downstairs, to a freezer, when I fall down the stairs, and land on the deck. I don't spill even a single drop of water. At the party, I'm having conversations with people about intellectual shite, and trying to understand other people's positions, and to understand my own, but here,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scamort sees me fall and asks if i'm okay. All of a sudden, i hear my name, gotten completely worng, coming from around a corner. It's one of my former students, and he tells me that He's going to have to take a lot of his classes again. Basically he flunked himself out, because he didn't take his work seriously, and didn't fight hard enough. Stark black silver blue and white colour scheme t this section.
Back at the museum, inside the giant display area, behind the individual displays, there ais a tiny world, a tiny ecosystem, and all the animals are afraid of the new creature. It has fangs, and venom spouts, and sometimes it is a mass of chitinous black tentacles, and sometimes it has legs like a spider, and sometimes it's shaped like another small, carnivorous, preadatory dinosaur. It is always shiny, always glistening, and covered in the kind of oilslick rainbow you see on black snakes, only darker. the museum curator is trying to introduce the rest to the new thing, and there's something brief
an interlude about Yoshi, and Mario games.
I'm listening to the curator, who's being played by Mary McDonnell, and she's channeling Granny Weatherwax, while she tells me about people not taking what they're doing seriously enough. She tells me a story of someone trying to intrudce a concept or a life to a place that had no want or need for it, and how that concpet or life was to be respectful of the needs of the environtment in which you found yourself, only it was far more impornatnt than that. She created this big, self-referential loop of meaning and hypocrisy. She couldn't see what she was doing, right now, and Granny had to show me that.
We've introduced the nwe thing into the place, and dream memories keep playing strong about what's where, and how to get out, and in which caves the little replicas huddle for warmth. Big Foot, Dinosaurs, gorillas, and other animals.
Flash back to the party.
They're all hiding from the new thing, and it's trying to give birth, so that it can be accepted in the society, and it lays its clutch of eggs, while constantly changing shape, and me and Mary are waiting to see what will hatch. They're baby tyranosaurs, and one of them runs off down the hall/canyon of the exhibit, and escapes. Mary realises that there are too many tyranosaurs, now, that there isn't enough food for all five of these, and the new creature doesn't really seem to eat, unless threatened. She leans down, and I know what she's about to do, and I run from the cave, before I hae to see it, but as she bites the heads off of two of the baby tyranosaurs, I know, and i can hear the new thing scream in rage and frustration and loss, a sound like grinding gears, bone gristle, and tearing metal. Mary gives it the last two of its babies, and it calms, some, and we head for the outside.
There are stairs next to the spiked moat/swamp/pit, where I first saw the new creature; facing the door, on the right is the pit, in the centre is nothing, and to the left are the stairs that i never noticed, before Mary started walking up them. We had to cross the pit to get IN. We get outside, and there are children everywhere, laughing and running around, watching the animals through the glass, and we take the new thing, and its children, to the infirmary, and Dr Cox and Jordan are there, asking questions and smiling and happy about being parents.. One of the kids stops me to ask me a question, before running off, without the answer. I look around at the weirdly bucolic scene, with the midafternoon light coming in through the glass roof, and amplified by the while walls. I wake up
That was an hour ago. I had to write that shit down, before I forgot any more of it.
David Bowie - [I'm Deranged]--- That was wonderfully fucked up, but I still didn't find what I was looking for. Other than the fact that I'm being inflexible, while demading flexibility, which I suspected. This is taking time I don't have.
I'm notincing, lately, that I seem to be saying everything exactly wrong, or comporting myself that way, in situations where I would rather not. I'm trying to make new friends and meet new people, recapture old friendships, etc., but my expressions on these matters seem to... facilitate the opposite. I don't know. I'm tired as hell, and it seems like a lot of people are distancing themselves from me, for reasons I don't understand.
David Bowie - [We Prick You]--- I love this song.
Good morning, everyone. How are you?
Talking with my step-mother and my sister about the steps necessary for people to understand what's going on.
Madame Foster, on the back deck of someone's house, seeking to cast a spell, designed to enact some form of retribution, something that makes things work for her, instead of her always having to do the work for everyone else. Courage the Cowardly Dog was in the components for the spell, but she felt terrible for what she was about to do, and let him go, before continuing with the spell.
Something about a museum that's also a zoo,whee the exhibits are alive, but aren't in any real orde. There's a new addition...
Somthing about a party at [Bad username or site: scamort and <lj user=damnedsaint @ livejournal.com]'s place, wandering around wiht drunken abandon, seeking to kill some time and thought, if only temporarily. I've filled an ice cube tray, and I'm walking it downstairs, to a freezer, when I fall down the stairs, and land on the deck. I don't spill even a single drop of water. At the party, I'm having conversations with people about intellectual shite, and trying to understand other people's positions, and to understand my own, but here,
scamort sees me fall and asks if i'm okay. All of a sudden, i hear my name, gotten completely worng, coming from around a corner. It's one of my former students, and he tells me that He's going to have to take a lot of his classes again. Basically he flunked himself out, because he didn't take his work seriously, and didn't fight hard enough. Stark black silver blue and white colour scheme t this section.Back at the museum, inside the giant display area, behind the individual displays, there ais a tiny world, a tiny ecosystem, and all the animals are afraid of the new creature. It has fangs, and venom spouts, and sometimes it is a mass of chitinous black tentacles, and sometimes it has legs like a spider, and sometimes it's shaped like another small, carnivorous, preadatory dinosaur. It is always shiny, always glistening, and covered in the kind of oilslick rainbow you see on black snakes, only darker. the museum curator is trying to introduce the rest to the new thing, and there's something brief
an interlude about Yoshi, and Mario games.
I'm listening to the curator, who's being played by Mary McDonnell, and she's channeling Granny Weatherwax, while she tells me about people not taking what they're doing seriously enough. She tells me a story of someone trying to intrudce a concept or a life to a place that had no want or need for it, and how that concpet or life was to be respectful of the needs of the environtment in which you found yourself, only it was far more impornatnt than that. She created this big, self-referential loop of meaning and hypocrisy. She couldn't see what she was doing, right now, and Granny had to show me that.
We've introduced the nwe thing into the place, and dream memories keep playing strong about what's where, and how to get out, and in which caves the little replicas huddle for warmth. Big Foot, Dinosaurs, gorillas, and other animals.
Flash back to the party.
They're all hiding from the new thing, and it's trying to give birth, so that it can be accepted in the society, and it lays its clutch of eggs, while constantly changing shape, and me and Mary are waiting to see what will hatch. They're baby tyranosaurs, and one of them runs off down the hall/canyon of the exhibit, and escapes. Mary realises that there are too many tyranosaurs, now, that there isn't enough food for all five of these, and the new creature doesn't really seem to eat, unless threatened. She leans down, and I know what she's about to do, and I run from the cave, before I hae to see it, but as she bites the heads off of two of the baby tyranosaurs, I know, and i can hear the new thing scream in rage and frustration and loss, a sound like grinding gears, bone gristle, and tearing metal. Mary gives it the last two of its babies, and it calms, some, and we head for the outside.
There are stairs next to the spiked moat/swamp/pit, where I first saw the new creature; facing the door, on the right is the pit, in the centre is nothing, and to the left are the stairs that i never noticed, before Mary started walking up them. We had to cross the pit to get IN. We get outside, and there are children everywhere, laughing and running around, watching the animals through the glass, and we take the new thing, and its children, to the infirmary, and Dr Cox and Jordan are there, asking questions and smiling and happy about being parents.. One of the kids stops me to ask me a question, before running off, without the answer. I look around at the weirdly bucolic scene, with the midafternoon light coming in through the glass roof, and amplified by the while walls. I wake up
That was an hour ago. I had to write that shit down, before I forgot any more of it.
David Bowie - [I'm Deranged]--- That was wonderfully fucked up, but I still didn't find what I was looking for. Other than the fact that I'm being inflexible, while demading flexibility, which I suspected. This is taking time I don't have.
I'm notincing, lately, that I seem to be saying everything exactly wrong, or comporting myself that way, in situations where I would rather not. I'm trying to make new friends and meet new people, recapture old friendships, etc., but my expressions on these matters seem to... facilitate the opposite. I don't know. I'm tired as hell, and it seems like a lot of people are distancing themselves from me, for reasons I don't understand.
David Bowie - [We Prick You]--- I love this song.
Good morning, everyone. How are you?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(headtilt)
Date: 2007-01-30 05:48 pm (UTC)There's a bother in my throat but it's a literal dis-ease as opposed to a microorganism.
Re: (headtilt)
Date: 2007-02-02 07:28 pm (UTC)Re: (headtilt)
Date: 2007-02-02 08:02 pm (UTC)But at least I'm in good spirits, yes?
Re: (headtilt)
Date: 2007-02-02 11:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-01 07:01 pm (UTC)That creature sounds like it might have been a part of you. The colours, the dynamic states, some kind of loss of your creation(s) is gnawing (forgive the pun) at you.
It may be neccessary so that others may thrive, though sad.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-02 07:28 pm (UTC)