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I wouldn't know what else to call what happened Friday night - I've said more than once, even on here I believe, that the people I have working with me now in the warehouse are probably the best group of people I've -ever- had to work with - the way we all get along is simply fantastic. Comparing this group to the group that worked with me prior to that - two raging alcoholics and a seemingly abusive father/boyfriend - is like day a night. I had two of them (the third has a lot more responsibility than any of us) up for a campfire at my house. There was definitely some alcohol-induced debauchery, but before that we shot bow a bit, took a walk through the woods (I threw a tomahawk for the first time in my life, that was rather neat!) and a lot of talking.

As the night drew on and the fire got bigger, and we all got a little more inebriated, I'm not sure why the subject matter went where it did - but it did. Maybe it's simply because that is my truest nature and it got reflected out, who knows - but we started talking about souls, energy and other esoteric phenomena. Here's the thing. The sorts of knowledge and actions both of them (john and matt) were doing and empathizing with me over are simply not common knowledge. People don't just make this shit up on the fly, and unless they've been introduced to it at some point, it's completely foreign territory. That's where the synchronicity part comes in - been a long time since I've known anyone who really "got" that side of reality (if it is a side at all?) and to have both of them working with me in the same place at the same time - to have them at a campfire at the same place at the same time - was incredibly coincidental. So much so I'm basically shutting off the part of myself that's going, "yeah, this absolutely had to be fate, it's a sign of some sort" because if it is, then what? There's no proof that it is...but it is as strange a coincidence as I've ever experienced, and probably the closest thing to real synchronicity that I may have ever experienced as well. My last entry, for fucks sake, was talking about how I didn't think people were "awakened." What a way to slap me in the face.

Saturday, I was terrible hungover...and this is why I do not make a habit out of drinking. Eventually I managed to get myself moving, and yes, I knew I was in for it because there was YET ANOTHER party I HAD to attend this weekend (this one was more family oriented - one of my close friends and cousins comes up from North Carolina every year for this.) Needless to say I showed up VERY late, but was fed copious amounts of alcohol anyway - much to my disagreement. However, I don't feel hungover today, and I felt quite good all night long - which is fine. I suppose I had plenty of energy from all the people around and from all the sleeping off I did Saturday, after all.

There were a -lot- of young kids, some my age and younger, at this Luau. Why that is, I don't know - a lot more than any other year. Eventually, they were all kicked out - anyone "not family" (that was about 2am). There were some pretty girls to look at, but the male to female ratio was about 3-1 - and that's totally normal around here, I guess. Nothing there seemed all that interesting...so I spent most of my night chatting with Gabriel, Johnathan, his girlfriend and Adria. I suppose the night was mostly uneventful - I find it hard to lubricate my tongue with these folk for whatever reason, and it has been like that since I was a child. With Gabriel it's a bit easier, sometimes I think because he's simply more "in tune" than most folk, and some of that may have to do with the mind-opening experiences he's had. What really stuck with me from this party were the dreams I had while sleeping.

I'm not even sure I should describe it, but it was incredibly strange and I'm still trying to piece together the metaphors and meaning of this one. It began with a large party (fancy that) - except there were hardly any men. This is all women, and they were all dressed in what probably amounted to stripper's outfits. This didn't sit well with me. There was something very base, maybe even demonic, or at least dark, about the whole thing. Sex was everywhere. One of them in particular wouldn't leave me alone - she never really had her way with me; I guess I can be happy with that (although, it was a dream.)

At some point, my limit had been reached for tolerance of wanton displays of vanity, instant gratification and selfishness. I got the bright idea to end it - and how I was going to accomplish that, was by sacrificing myself into their ritual "lake". It had long, narrow pathways in some strange pattern, with columns and straight walls that went very high into the air. Thinking about it now, it very nearly reminds me of something I saw in a Lady Gaga music video - but it's hard to say for sure. In any case, on the top of the wall I was, and I jumped down. There I sacrificed myself. As I met death, I watched the twisted, overly revealing outfits on their bodies disappear, and their collective demeanor return to something much more "human" at least in my eyes...but the truth is, I think, that my generation is full of that type of behavior...far more than I'd ever want to admit...and enough so that I have a deep seated fear that there really -ISN'T- enough -REAL- love to go around.

The setting didn't change after my sacrifice so much, just the attitudes. And yeah, I was still around (dreams are fun, aren't they?) I found myself picking up a guitar case that looked mysteriously like my own and carrying it down a hallway - there a man told me, "You can play in here if you like" and he lead me through a doorway to a small, cozy living room. There were a few other men here as well (no women now - in contrast to previously, where it was all women.) Some of them had strange instruments I had never seen before - one -sounded- like a sitar, but operated nothing like one - when I asked, "Is that a sitar" his expression turned to one of complete disbelief - as if I had asked either a completely ridiculous question, or if he was surprised I asked one at all. At this point, I open the case up to find...something like a guitar, but not at all the same. It had probably forty or so strings, and it was horribly out of tune. I set myself to the task of tuning it - moving strings around as they had become crossed and tangled from disuse (apparently.) It was at this point I realized it wasn't my guitar at all - the case, instead of Fender, said, "Frontier." I managed to tune a small portion of the instrument and finally gave up - I played for a time, and it was incredibly beautiful music (my dream music always is...it's much easier for me to just "create" the tone in my head then it is to use any tool to play it.) The coolest part was probably that given the nature of the instrument, the tones actually made perfect logical sense - it was much like a 12 string, only more complicated - strings were right next to each other, resulting in natural harmonies without much work.

And that's the end of the dream. As you can see, no simple dream at all - quite complicated, but leaving enough of an impact that I felt I should write it down...even twelve hours later.

Hope all is well to those who still read.

Dream

Jul. 6th, 2014 04:02 pm
sathor: (Default)
This one started out a little odd. Cass (the first person I ever fell into love with) and her brother Matt (an ex best friend) were at my house, presumably we were all doing something together. I feel like the attic may have been involved, but I could be wrong. I invited them to eat dinner, which may have been a bad idea - Matt at this point disappears from the dream, it's just Cass now. She comes downstairs where I'm sitting to eat, and leans over, pulling my head back to look at her. I remember my father said something - I know it had to deal with working at United - and it feels as though it dealt with how many more years I have remaining if I were to stay. It's a long time. By the time I'm done, if I'm not dead, I'll be nothing but a husk of what I am today. Cass says, "aren't you a spitting image of your father." It's at this point it strikes me. I say, "Yeah, but unlike him I may quit at any time." There's no response to that. The scenery changes. I can't remember this convoluted part of the dream all too well - I know Cass ends up in it again, and I'm not sure how I get to her. Instead of taking my car, we take hers - whatever that is (she's never had a vehicle.) She has kids mind you, and they end up in the dream as well - at least, I assume the one we have with us is hers. This is the point of this section of the dream, along with another point. We enter a building in Warren, which appears to be some kind of child-care center. She spins me around, and proceeds to say something like, "I love your style of hair." She references the ponytail and bandana, then says something else like, "I'd love to see what Mark would do if you walked into my house with me. He wouldn't even be able to hurt you." So yeah, then it gets borderline sexual. Just kissing, although quite passionate. Even -I- was passionate, I guess I had reason to be. She's a person that I loved in a way that's never been re-experienced, I had opportunities with her I never took, primarily because she was 4 years older than me and I was still a virgin.

The second point of the this section was, quite apparently, how ill equipped and psychologically ready I am to have a child or raise it. Well, I already know that. I was quite unhappy helping take care of her little one in the dream. The damn thing quite nearly urinated all over me, actually. I suppose one could see this all as comical, but to my dream mind, it was horrifying.

This dream was quite striking, else I wouldn't have bothered writing it down in great detail. There's definitely major points which are apparent: fear that I will never leave United, and live like my father minus a loving wife...fear that I could not be a good father to a child...and maybe that the broken heart that I gave my self by loving Cass still hasn't quite healed. It's disappointing to consider these things.

I want to say I'm going to be out of here and somewhere else soon. I want to say that, I want to believe it. I don't think I have any choice in the matter anymore. If I don't do it, I fear I will continue on this path, with little change, little stimulation, little chance for love and happiness. I fear I have to get out of here, whether I like it or not. I have this one life to live, I can not sacrifice it on some retarded altar of fear and a need to fulfill security addictions. It may already be too late, but I can at least TRY. I don't so much CARE what happens, I just know that it will be DIFFERENT than this, and it will require me to make different decisions. If I can't handle it...if I crash and burn...I hope I can make it back.

It's not that I mind it here, or that I hate it. In fact, there's so much to love and enjoy about this place. But it's so dreadfully lonely.

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