Fuzzy Walking in Two Different Worlds

Sorry my dears. More than a week gone by without writing. The urge occurs to me first thing in the morning, sometimes even before the alarm has gone off, when my mind is awake but the body hasn’t gotten there yet. I rolled over the other morning, put pen to paper and came out with the first draft of a new poem. It’s called ‘Our love is like a dead squirrel’. *giggle* no…I’m serious. My point here is that not everything my brain spews out upon waking is worthy of electronic publishing.

Speaking of odd brain spew, last night's dreams were frought with strange. I was traveling somewhere, and on my way, I stopped by A's house. Only it wasn't the beautiful Long Beach condo that I know from reality. It was a strange house in a subdivision still being built.

You had to pass through one person's house, and into the back yard, where you then entered a white metal door, that led to a steel ladder down to what should have been a basement area, but after a short tunnel, opened up to the outside lower 'lot' of the subdivision.

The house that I passed through had several odd characters in it. An African woman who was dancing to 70's music, while making a 'hot cherry pie'. Additionally, there was an attractive younger man dressed like Elvis who would dance with her. He would stop and make eye contact with me each time I passed through.

There were many multi-colored bead curtins, which clicked when I would walk through. In fact between the music, the click of the beads, the multi colored posters, the odd outfits on the people, and the smell of cherry pie, the whole house was a sensory experience. One that should have been pleasant, only I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Once outside in the back yard, I could see the Statue of Liberty. I mean, REALLY close up, so that I could only see about the top 3/4 of her, and as I looked I thought to myself "I didn't know she wore a mask" (as she clearly had a mardi-gras-esqu 1/2 mask over her eyes). There were many powerlines and a tangible electronic buzz that added to my sense of un-ease.

The steel ladder down was un-nerving as well, and there was black spray-painted graffitti on the white walls. Even though the subdivision was just being built, there was an old abandoned feel about so much of it. Dirty and dingey and unsafe.

I tried to cut through the lower section of the subdivision, in an attempt to get back to my car, which I'd parked on the street in front of A's house. But one street would wind around and become another, and I wasn't so much lost as I realized that I was in some sort of capture loop, and the only way to get out would be to backtrack my steps, go back up the ladder, and return the way I came. At this point, it would be a very long walk, and I was running late for my next appointment.... but it was more assured to be successful than my endless wandering was.

So back I went. Through the abandoned streets, up the scary ladder, past the buzzing wires, and into the house. Somehow (as happens in dreams) this house with the dancing strangers and A's house had merged, and thus when I passed through, they asked me to stay for pie. I don't like pie (well, not fruit pies). But i wanted to be polite, and it gave me more time to play with the new kitten A had. He was pale grey tabby, with some peach colored patches, and very beady tiny eyes. His name was "Hilton" and I called him "Beady-eyed Hilton" (No relation to Paris), as I picked him up (smaller than one hand) and nuzzled his confused head.

I realized that between waiting for pie and cuddling the kitten, I was very late, and I still didn't feel safe or happy where i was, so I made my excuses and headed towards the door. That's when the Elvis gentleman stopped me. He held my hand, and asked where I lived (presumably to see if it was nearby, and to find out if we could see each other again). I explained that I live in Los Angeles, and his face fell as he realized that I was leaving never to return. He sadly repeated "Los Angeles?" and I said yes. Heartbroken, he sat stunned for a moment, until I, in an attempt to comfort him, kissed his forehead before saying good bye.

Then I woke up.

I have no idea what this means. I apologize that i have no underlying theme for this post. But i figure getting something out there.... just expressing the oddities of my brain... is better than keeping it all stuffed inside.

Happy weekend to you, my dears. May all your (good) dreams come true.