Tuesday, December 11, 2012

rehearsals

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was probably in a bedroom with my mother. The room had a bright incandescent light on the celing. But some grey-blue daylight came in through the windows, making the incandescent light feel pale and weak.

The two of us may have been practicing something together, like some kind of drama or presentation. But my mom got caught up in something she thought was funny. My mom was wearing a blanket, which she took to be a cape. She wrapped the cape all the way around me.

I was on my knees, underneath the blanket. I flew into a panic. My mom opened up the cape. The incandescent light now seemed to be a lot warmer and brighter. I screamed up at my mom, "Don't you ever remember what I've told you about how I get when I'm covered up with things?!" (In waking life I've never made any such comment to my mom.)

Just to prove my point -- that I hated being covered up with things -- I fell over onto my right side. There was a pillow on the floor. I half lay on the pillow and went into something like a fit of convulsions. I thought I was faking the convulsions. But they may have been real.

My mom just stood calmly by and watched. She was collecting all the strange behavior I exhibited. I knew that once she had collected enough instances of my strange behavior she would try to prove that I was insane, so that she could get control over me.

I was now in a bedroom with my old friend Y. The room felt larger than the room my mom and I had been in. The light was off. The only light coming into the room was grey light from the windows. My friend Y sat on a bed, maybe a bunk bed, but maybe a normal bed with the mattress just above waist height.

I had been watching something like YouTube for a while. I thought I was doing something creative or preparing to do something creative by watching YouTube. But Y wanted me to focus on something else. It seemed like we had been memorizing lines, like for a play, and now Y wanted to go over them with me.

But I couldn't remember the lines, and I had to look at the pages Y had with the lines on them. Y's pages were actually pages of sheet music, with certain passages of music highlighted in yellow. Y may also have had a musical instrument with her, maybe an electronic keyboard.

I searched through the sheet music for my lines. Y still held all the pages, so I had to look at them from an odd angle, seeing whatever snatches of pages I could as Y flipped through them.

Finally I got so frustrated by all of this that I told Y I wasn't doing it anymore. I either told Y or thought to myself that I had been doing something creative on my own, before she'd come here, and that I was going to continue to do it.

Y was offended that I wasn't interested in doing the lines anymore. She stood up and left the room, probably taking her keyboard with her. She said that she'd come back for me, and that when she did, I'd better be ready to practice the lines with her, otherwise she'd find a way to really embarrass me.

I knew that I was headed to some place like a festival, maybe like a festival for an Asian holiday. I knew that I was going to be involved in something creative there, maybe a performance.

I knew that if Y was still mad at me, she'd break into the middle of whatever the creative event was and call me out, saying something bad about me that would embarrass me in front of everybody.

I knew I had to work hard to avoid all of this happening, possibly (not really sure) because if I was really prepared and solid during my performance, Y wouldn't be able to find a place to break in and start calling me out.

But I ended up sitting at a chair before either a small desk or the edge of the high bed. There was now no light from the bedroom or window. The light came from the door Y had left open. The door opened to a hallway like in a college dormitory.

I started watching some YouTube program on a laptop. The program was educational, about science or history. Some cheerful young woman was giving the presentation.

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