6.5 Hours of sleep. Here's last night's dreams.

[wolven7]

Dreams started off with walking across a frozen/desert tundra in Africa (watching Anthony Bourdain, last night), talking to a guide about the nature of the terrain, and the fact that ther are rock holes under the bushes-that-act-like-sand-and-water, which are in a basin depression, and that it would be very easy to break a leg, were one not careful. Stopping and talking to the guide, who looks like a younger McCauley Culkin.

We are driving to/through Arica, and we realise that we have to stop for food, and we discuss stopping fo the night. Our group is varied.

We're in a rest stop that is a hotel, and we haven't left yet, as well as we are in Africa resting before finishing the journey. The next section is going to be worse than the rest. We gather in a room, and start talking to each other, and there are dozens of us, crowded around and in little groups.

I am talking to everyone as if it were a class that I had to teach, or an activity that I had to direct, not unlike trivia. greygirlbeast, humglum, and ladymerrydeath are all here, as well as my step mother, my mother, some aunts, but these latter are in further flung corners of the room. In the centre and along the walls are women who live in this city and who, to me, represent fighters, quiet or otherwise, for various causes. Even if only their own. The inside of where we are looks like a Barnes and Nobel. Stephen King is somewhere, prodding from the sidelines.

The thing is over, and everyone is milling, and the trip to Africa is still about to happen, is still happening, so we are leaving this centre and packing up in a hotel in the Middle Distance, at the same time. As we are leaving the centre, I'm getting sidetracked talking to everyone, trying to make sure that they're okay, and mech_angel has to go, and catches up wiht a core group, acter waving goodbye to greygirlbeast, humglum, ladymerrydeath and the rest. I stay to talk. While that is happening, in the hotel, as we pack, there is something about a forgotten redbull, or one I said I'd drink, but it has gone flat, and disgusting.

The whole thing has been a class, and there are people there, from both depratments, monitoring my progress and trying to keep us out of the way, while new candidates gave talks and met the "More desireables." People who really wanted to see the talk have missed it (worry from yesterday, about missing Kirsti Copeland's talk on Monday) and there is no time to catch up with the speaker. A Dirty move, in all. I try to talk with greygirlbeast about something very important, some mode of understanding that means everything, but all that comes out are stammers and half-sentences.

The atmosphere of a house after a dinner and a movie screening, when that was all anyone came prepared to do.

I get outside, and the front of the building is the Midtown Shopping Centre, everything inside having been hollowed out to make space for the school setting. I'm running to the car, because I've realised, too late, that mech_angel's bag is in the trunk, and she'll need that, when she gets to the Rest stop. I call her, and I have to ask her for directions, even though part of me is already there. I'm trying to shift the entire awareness of me to that place, and I know tha they are about to leave, because we are all leaving the school/party/store. She sounds very relaxed about the whole situation, telling me to use the licensed t-shirt merchandise, from the band, to make part of the way there

Suddenly my mother is asking me to use my gas card, rather than borrowing money (Duh) and I tell her as she realises it that I dont have a gas card, and she asks about mech_angel's suggestion, and asks me where the band got its name. I tell her that it came from a story where Death (under the name Gaiada) and Lucifer decide to give the world a perfect present, but first they have to kill everyone. Something, here, about looking at the back cover of a hardback graphic novel, and seeing Death and Lucifer in a hot air balloon. (This image brought to you by greygirlbeast's two-day dream story, and reading a lot of Mike Carey, recently.)

I realisewhat I can do, and I get flashes of a cup full of almost-frozen RedBull, in a fridge, somewhere, and I know I'm close. mech_angel is with the rest of Death's Little Sister, the rest of the women from the group are going to meet up, there, in the heart of the country, but they're going to get there, by their own paths.

Six and one half hours of sleep, and I feel... better than I felt for most of yesteday. I woke up with the following songs stuck in my head:

The Young Gods - [Charlotte]
Warren Zevon - [Piano Fighter] (Original Live Recording)
and Tori Amos - [Suede]

How do you tell someone with whom you are only acquainted that you had a dream about them and it might be important, and not sound like a crazy person? Or do you just Ides-Of-March it, and hope for the best?

There were a lot of you in that dream. I think pretty much every woman on this list, and some not.. Very strange.

Good morning. Breakfast time.

Comments

[n3m3sis42.livejournal.com]

Hehe, I would be flattered if I was in your dream. :D

[wolven.livejournal.com]

Like I said, pretty much every woman I know, in the city of Atlanta, and otherwise, was in that dream, for at least long enough for me to see their faces.

Pretty awesome, that. :)

[n3m3sis42.livejournal.com]

Now I'm curious!

[wolven.livejournal.com]

I don't know what the meeting was about, but there was certainly something to it of a consolidation of power kind of thing...

[n3m3sis42.livejournal.com]

For some reason, that makes total sense to me. :D

[wolven.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I think I know what you mean.