![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Dreams and revelations
Dec. 16th, 2007 10:53 amI dreamed of a golf shop that is also Eagle Eye/Kudzu Books, but is also a college compaus. Campus. Bluh. Anyway, I am trying to get some assistance, at the front desk, as to how much a certain type of golf ball cost, and the woman who's told me she'd be right back, in five minures hasn't been back in fifteen.
Interlude: Wandering around the Rec Centre with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
greygirlbeast and humglum, and something happens, some turn of events or phrasing, where greygirlbeast does something that changes or saves my life, very cleanly, and very clearly, and I'm trying to think of the appropriate way to thank her, for that. I consider where I can offer her sanctuary, where I can say to her "If you ever need anything, come to Place X." The only thing I can offer is the basement of the Rec Centre, and that seems... not enough, for what she's done.
Returning to the pro shop, I'm still waiting for the woman to come back from the back, an the shop is now also a hospital nurses' station. Someone goes to find her for me, and she comes back looking surprised, saying "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think you were serious and didn't gexpect you to still be here." By now I've looked at the ball several times, and it's got five little ovoid grooves, in the sides, all the sides, and they some how come together to make one single five-pointed star, on one side of the sphere. I look at the woman, and I tell her, "Well, I'd really like to know how much these are," and she looks at the display window, trying to see if there's a price, like maybe I'm an idiot, and I look at her and tell her to help me find out how much these cost, so I can buy them. Shifting, slightly...lord_of_smoking is behind the counter, now, checking prices in a catalogue, for me.
He looks up and points out tha tthe one I'm holding rents for $1.99 an hour, which really isn't that bad, but thre are other models that work as well, for less or no money. I pick up a few from inside the catalogue, and I extend them, looking out onto campus through the telescope, trying to see who I can see. I see a girl I've dated. Tall, blonde, athletic, but like a sluttier, more redneck version of Charlotte. I talk to the two guys i'm with. I've been wandering around the Rec Centre basement, talking to these guys for hours. Talking about the girl, talking about how none of us ever knew she was dating the others of us. Everyone asking me how I met her, because I was apparently the nexus for connection.
Concurrent layers: She walks in the door, and the guys stop listening to my story, to talk to her, stare at her, accusingly, about not only dating them.
-/-
I'm on a dark plain, in a garden, everything is black, with eternity-blue luminous edges, and there is a figure next to what can only be a labyrinth wall, clipping black roses.
-\-
She puts her hands on her hips, and fires back at both of them that she was never looking for anything serious, or committed, and they knew that; if they'd wanted something more, they should have said so, then, not now, long after the fact.
-/-
The figure turns to me and tells me to stop, to give up and just come with him, and as he talks I can read his voice, as if on a page and he TALKS LIKE THIS. Serifed capitals, each word like a giant stone door slamming shut, forever.
-\-
She comes and sits down on the top of the bench/table combination, next to me and puts her arm around me. She leans down to look into my eyes, which are looking at the floor, and she says "Hey, cutie." And In those two words I have warring understandings: 1) That I was the only one she ever truly cared about. 2) She only dated me because she'd never dated a black guy before. Those two impressions compete in my mind.
-/-
Death looks at me, while he clips apples and roses and oranges, and other fruits and flowers, and he says "YOU HAVE A CHOICE. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE THIS DIFFERENT." And as he talks, I can see and read his words, still, but I can also see probability and choice laid out before me, a scene he describes. "TWO HORSES CAN ENTER A DOUBLE-SLIT, AND ONE WILL BE TRAPPED, FOLLOWING THE QUANTUM INFINITY LOOP CUL-DE-SAC, FOREVER. THE OTHER..." and as he trails off, I can see a line stretching away, forever, through the fields.
I wake up
If you've read all this way, I guess you think I owe you something. Some piece of personal exposure, or such, as if that dream weren't enough. Well, fine. We're not all psychologists, and I can appreciate that. I finistedgreygirlbeast's Murder of Angels, last night, before bed. "These things happen."
I've been thinking about Terry Pratchett, a lot lately, and i read Murder of Angels, last night, before bed. "These things Happen."
I've been thinking about exclusivity, the lack of care, some seem to show, apologies offered and unacknowledged, pickedlord_of_smoking up from work, last night, thinking about Terry Pratchett a lot lately, read Murder of Angels, last night, before bed. "These Things Happen."
Last night, before bed, and before finishing murder of angels, I had a bit of a revelation. A thought that came to mind like a flash, and has slowly unfolded into a deeper refelection on me as a person. And maybe I'm wrong; maybe it's just another reflection, and not at all a cause. Maybe Freud was right, and there's only one group of "Formative Years." But I don't think so. I think that a traumatic event, coupled with a change in location that might as well be a different planet that happens to also be Home, I think that can put a person, especially a ateenager, in a new state of growth and awakening. A new era of Development.
That being the case, the teenager's sexual experiences, during that time, are going to be especially important because the person still retains whatever understanding they had of what sex and "sexuality" have meant, but he or she must also now figure out what sex and "sexuality" mean, within the new context. And so, sexual expectation, if the teenager has only ever gone so far as to kiss another person, will weigh very heavily on all actions, thereafter. This was not the scope of my revelation, last night, by the way. That can be summed up in a sentence.
But I don't know that I have the right to just... Put that sentence out there, as it involves other people. So, just know that the revelation blossomed into an understanding of why I am who and how I am.
Instead, I'll lay a scene for you-- a description of something that may not have ever happened, and may only be something that played through my head-- and I'll leave you with that.
Two girls and a boy, in the beginnings of a ridiculously classical triangle, well behind a school building, on a fall afternoon-to-evening. Tangled together, with each other, until time, realisation of circumstance, or some other necessity makes them stop. Giggling, giddy, never to be discussed again.
Have a Good Sunday Morning, everyone.
Interlude: Wandering around the Rec Centre with
greygirlbeast and humglum, and something happens, some turn of events or phrasing, where greygirlbeast does something that changes or saves my life, very cleanly, and very clearly, and I'm trying to think of the appropriate way to thank her, for that. I consider where I can offer her sanctuary, where I can say to her "If you ever need anything, come to Place X." The only thing I can offer is the basement of the Rec Centre, and that seems... not enough, for what she's done.Returning to the pro shop, I'm still waiting for the woman to come back from the back, an the shop is now also a hospital nurses' station. Someone goes to find her for me, and she comes back looking surprised, saying "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think you were serious and didn't gexpect you to still be here." By now I've looked at the ball several times, and it's got five little ovoid grooves, in the sides, all the sides, and they some how come together to make one single five-pointed star, on one side of the sphere. I look at the woman, and I tell her, "Well, I'd really like to know how much these are," and she looks at the display window, trying to see if there's a price, like maybe I'm an idiot, and I look at her and tell her to help me find out how much these cost, so I can buy them. Shifting, slightly...
lord_of_smoking is behind the counter, now, checking prices in a catalogue, for me.He looks up and points out tha tthe one I'm holding rents for $1.99 an hour, which really isn't that bad, but thre are other models that work as well, for less or no money. I pick up a few from inside the catalogue, and I extend them, looking out onto campus through the telescope, trying to see who I can see. I see a girl I've dated. Tall, blonde, athletic, but like a sluttier, more redneck version of Charlotte. I talk to the two guys i'm with. I've been wandering around the Rec Centre basement, talking to these guys for hours. Talking about the girl, talking about how none of us ever knew she was dating the others of us. Everyone asking me how I met her, because I was apparently the nexus for connection.
Concurrent layers: She walks in the door, and the guys stop listening to my story, to talk to her, stare at her, accusingly, about not only dating them.
-/-
I'm on a dark plain, in a garden, everything is black, with eternity-blue luminous edges, and there is a figure next to what can only be a labyrinth wall, clipping black roses.
-\-
She puts her hands on her hips, and fires back at both of them that she was never looking for anything serious, or committed, and they knew that; if they'd wanted something more, they should have said so, then, not now, long after the fact.
-/-
The figure turns to me and tells me to stop, to give up and just come with him, and as he talks I can read his voice, as if on a page and he TALKS LIKE THIS. Serifed capitals, each word like a giant stone door slamming shut, forever.
-\-
She comes and sits down on the top of the bench/table combination, next to me and puts her arm around me. She leans down to look into my eyes, which are looking at the floor, and she says "Hey, cutie." And In those two words I have warring understandings: 1) That I was the only one she ever truly cared about. 2) She only dated me because she'd never dated a black guy before. Those two impressions compete in my mind.
-/-
Death looks at me, while he clips apples and roses and oranges, and other fruits and flowers, and he says "YOU HAVE A CHOICE. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE THIS DIFFERENT." And as he talks, I can see and read his words, still, but I can also see probability and choice laid out before me, a scene he describes. "TWO HORSES CAN ENTER A DOUBLE-SLIT, AND ONE WILL BE TRAPPED, FOLLOWING THE QUANTUM INFINITY LOOP CUL-DE-SAC, FOREVER. THE OTHER..." and as he trails off, I can see a line stretching away, forever, through the fields.
I wake up
If you've read all this way, I guess you think I owe you something. Some piece of personal exposure, or such, as if that dream weren't enough. Well, fine. We're not all psychologists, and I can appreciate that. I finisted
greygirlbeast's Murder of Angels, last night, before bed. "These things happen."I've been thinking about Terry Pratchett, a lot lately, and i read Murder of Angels, last night, before bed. "These things Happen."
I've been thinking about exclusivity, the lack of care, some seem to show, apologies offered and unacknowledged, picked
lord_of_smoking up from work, last night, thinking about Terry Pratchett a lot lately, read Murder of Angels, last night, before bed. "These Things Happen."Last night, before bed, and before finishing murder of angels, I had a bit of a revelation. A thought that came to mind like a flash, and has slowly unfolded into a deeper refelection on me as a person. And maybe I'm wrong; maybe it's just another reflection, and not at all a cause. Maybe Freud was right, and there's only one group of "Formative Years." But I don't think so. I think that a traumatic event, coupled with a change in location that might as well be a different planet that happens to also be Home, I think that can put a person, especially a ateenager, in a new state of growth and awakening. A new era of Development.
That being the case, the teenager's sexual experiences, during that time, are going to be especially important because the person still retains whatever understanding they had of what sex and "sexuality" have meant, but he or she must also now figure out what sex and "sexuality" mean, within the new context. And so, sexual expectation, if the teenager has only ever gone so far as to kiss another person, will weigh very heavily on all actions, thereafter. This was not the scope of my revelation, last night, by the way. That can be summed up in a sentence.
But I don't know that I have the right to just... Put that sentence out there, as it involves other people. So, just know that the revelation blossomed into an understanding of why I am who and how I am.
Instead, I'll lay a scene for you-- a description of something that may not have ever happened, and may only be something that played through my head-- and I'll leave you with that.
Two girls and a boy, in the beginnings of a ridiculously classical triangle, well behind a school building, on a fall afternoon-to-evening. Tangled together, with each other, until time, realisation of circumstance, or some other necessity makes them stop. Giggling, giddy, never to be discussed again.
Have a Good Sunday Morning, everyone.
