The Transfiguration

everything is sacred

Setting of the Day #2588

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Setting of the Day #2588

I will still occasionally have dreams about the homes I grew up in. Often they’re at Mom’s old duplex, especially on the street outside or the pillared steps to the front door; sometimes they’re in Dad’s apartment building, which is prone to growing new elevators and labyrinthine corridors. It’s very rare for me to dream about whatever other home I’ve lived in; I can’t recall a single one from Santa Cruz (though the campus itself has hosted many dreams in which I’ve forgotten a class for an entire quarter), and I don’t think I dreamed about the apartment I shared with Pearce.

The other night I had what might be a dream about this place, but it was an isolated unit, half the size, and most of the walls were missing, making it closer to an archaeological dig site than a livable space. The home had been foreclosed, and I was relegated to a peculiar house open to the elements, with carpet-softened clockwork made to transport me to my room on the upper floor.

How long do you have to live in a place for your unconscious to register it as home, and make it a permanent dream setting for the rest of your life?

different things to me

Written by Umbrella Man

October 23, 2015 at 11:30 pm

Posted in dreams, places

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