I went to an apartment of this house where girls were sitting on the carpet - thin, beautiful, spunky college aged girls like out of an urban outfitters catalog, like nicki's friends that made me a little jealous a few days before in real life. and those damn twenty year old girls in all my classes. what do you want from me.
Anyway I walked in the apartment like I lived there, because I once had. It was an apartment I lived in in Arcata - though in real life there's not resemblance to any of the seventeen or so houses I've lived in. The girls got really hostile and I explained the situation to them and asked if they minded if I studied there - I was tired of studying at my new home, because every home feels too small. They were definitely not receptive. I had some flashes of places I've only been to in other dreams (or I felt a strong sense of recognition - I think this may be a separate feeling from the phenomenon. what if recognition is just a chemical effect?) including some weird metal stairs on the outside of a building.
Later on, I am traveling again. I don't remember with who. I seem to often be going place in groups, in my dreams, but in life I am solo about 75% of waking hours. We were sitting at a table with a woman who was our host. She was about 27 and had a resting face that was bitchy. Everyone else was discussing what to do about a certain person in the group, because a person who was absent from this place, his home, would be really angry when he returned, to find this young man. I gathered that the absent person was very religious, and being my normally bratty self I decided to distract from the severity by turning whatever they were saying into cleverly rhyming hymns. I was rather impressed with myself.
I can hardly remember the rest, only flashes, even though it was just fifteen minutes ago. The religious man, chasing the young man through the jungle. He had dirt on his face, and was very strong but terrified.
If I'm internalizing what I'm reading about guerillas and persecution in South/Central America during the cold war as I'm cramming for an exam, that's really crazy, because it literally feels like I'm cramming. When I read and even take notes it seems to get filed in a very superficial place and it feels like I'm hardly even grabbing onto that.
Another dream, from the night before last:
I was the guest in a house, again. I had JT's computer, which was a 90s era Apple PC. It started vibrating and I was worried because he might be missing an important contact opportunity, and he was nowhere near and I didn't know how to use the platform. I eventually calmed the machine down and saw he had a bunch of messages from people sending him videos of themselves singing things a capella. It was a new trend, like throwback thursday, and also the right commercialized holiday for it.
The people who were hosting me were kind of passive aggressive, and wanted me to leave which I had to gather from painful, personal ways. I never saw them in the dream. It might have just been a feeling dream Nyssa layered on the situation. I went into the basement to gather my things - it reminds me of the Gill's basement, from my childhood. The toilet was murky and clogged and since I was the last one to use it I felt obligated to unclog it. My efforts rewarded me with water and sewage rising out of the toilet and spilling over, getting all over me and my clothes. I started taking off my clothes and then I was covered with the sewage. I didn't know what to do because I was supposed to be getting out of there. Then JT's computer started buzzing again and then my phone started buzzing too, which I apparently felt compelled to check despite being covered in shit. It was a bunch of people sending me a capella/spoken messages. The only one I saw was a woman who I didn't recognize saying she was going to read me a John Whittier poem, since he is so under-read these days.
And finally a dream I wrote down elsewhere, from Feb. 8:
I dreamed I took a huge shit-the cylindrical mass of a five year old. It kept
coming and coming, and all my organs. I panicked and started shoving them back in.
Then I took a picture with my iPhone of the rest to ask my mom if I was going to
be able to live. A nickelodeon alarm clock, and a bunch of other things covered in
shit. I also dreamed I was on the couch in JT's living room, where I actually was,
and the landlord came in a back door for some middle of the night tour. He was
showing prospective around. I was supposed to be quiet because jt isn't supposed
to be living there technically, but I also wanted the landlord to know I was only
getting four hours of sleep. So as a compromise I made little yelps. I think maybe
they were ghosts.
I included that last one because I seem to keep having dreams about pooping and feces. I just browsed a few dream interpretation websites which say poop means money - according to Freudian analysis and Chinese wisdom. Or it means something shameful and scary that originates in myself, that I don't know what to do with. It may literally mean ridding myself of a lot of shit, or feeling covered in it.
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