The Transfiguration

everything is sacred

Dream of the Day #2438

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Dream of the Day #2438

I woke from a dream an hour early this morning, and once the world had stabilized I was compelled to write it down, swiping the words into my phone and feeling surprisingly lucid for how tired I was:

===

Went to some class about computer engineering and we just talked about Slack’s branding. Their name was a portmanteau of the founders’ unlikely names, and we talked about the cultural significance of waffles and the hash mark. Archaeology students worked on the decaying building immediately behind the outdoor lecture and one of them dropped her notes into our class by accident.

Bought a new motorcycle and inexpertly drove it towards home, making the engine overheat several times and occasionally drifting into the opposite lane. I had difficulty deciding when to shift between the 3 gears, and would sometimes try to pedal it as if it were a bicycle. When rain fell from the trees I tried to catch it to cool the engine, and it hissed when it splashed into it.

Rolled through downtown Berkeley, where several friends from high school were taking part in some outdoor sleepover event. Couches were laid out on the sidewalk and full of people in conversation, and blankets lined the street itself. I rolled my motorcycle onto the blanket before I realized my mistake, and got off to say hello and carry the bike somewhere better.

Just about everyone was angry at me, bitter and silent, and not because of the motorcycle. Jacob wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and Adam Miller wouldn’t say a word. Only Ben and Leo and some strangers would speak to me, and Ben or Brian mentioned how some public letter from Michelle had done a number on my reputation.

A girl I didn’t know asked about the motorcycle and another asked about my fit bit, and I felt guilty for having enough money to buy these dumb unnecessary things when my friends were getting by on so little.

I had some brief conversation with Leo and another person, who said some other person was weird. Leo and I started to get into an argument about what it means to be weird and I said that if we were just going to talk semantics we wouldn’t have that conversation.

I was standing behind a couch that Jeff was sitting in, and he also refused to speak to me. He muttered something to someone next to him as a message for me, and without looking in my direction passed me my old Hello book, which in this dream was also one of the Draw Something books. Michelle had got ahold of it somehow and distributed it to denounce me. I looked inside, and all the signatures in the inside cover had been removed, leaving only the words that mentioned me. Many people’s pages had been censored in this way, making the book seem like some strange egoistic creation of mine. When I came to Michelle’s page I found that I had pasted over her work with something typed out by someone else – some offense I had done long ago, that maybe lead her to do this.

I started to wake up here, and the reality of the book slowly dissolved. With eyes still closed, I tried to explore the book further, but it was artificial now, and Michelle’s motivations weren’t there to understand anymore.

===

There was a lot of nonsense in this dream, but it felt unusually cohesive, and the way I felt interacting with people – the nitpicky conversation with Leo, that economic guilt about my gadgets, the dread that I had somehow wronged Michelle – were so much more grounded, felt so much more real than what I’m used to in my dreams.

I woke next to Laurel and she was sleeping heavily, but Zinky was making his rounds on the bed. Once I was finished writing he burrowed into the blankets between us, and slowly tunneled through them all the way to the foot of the bed. It was dark and I was hardly coordinated enough to photograph him properly, so here is an anonymous fuzz-shadow receding into the blankets.

jazzy piano
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Written by Umbrella Man

May 26, 2015 at 11:21 pm

Posted in animals, cats, dreams

Tagged with ,

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