Sunday, October 28, 2012

Living In A Dream?


My wife classifies me as a bear when I wake.  
I can't figure out why!
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I had a dream last night.  That may not be odd for you, but I never remember my dreams.  Dreams are only dreams to me, that have no recollection of dreaming.  

Why did I even type that?  Genius?  (Damn, I am dreaming!)

My dream put me into a home setting.  Not mine, but someone else's.  I have no idea whose.  In fact, I have no recollection of anyone else being in this dream that wasn't somewhat faceless.

No, it wasn't as though a bunch of people were running around with no faces, duh.  It's like all were blurred because they really weren't that important.  I have no idea why they weren't important.  Everyone's important, right?  If people weren't important they'd have no existence.  They'd be only formalities in the surreal life of the unknown.

More Genius?  (I'm feeling as though I'm still dreaming!)

I'm in this home setting (as I've previously stated) and for some reason, I'm wearing a pair of cuffed blue jeans that haven't been in style for years.  This makes me believe that perhaps this dream might have been setting in the back of my mind for many years and just now arrived to the memory status.  Either that, or it was the acid flashback that I've been waiting on for decades to appear.

I notice there is a spider on the floor.  (That's in my dream, let's go back to that since it's the primary topic of this writing.  You don't mind, do you?)  This spider is fairly large...say 3 inches in diameter.  It's thick black body is horizontally striped with the brightest of yellow.  

I squish it with the sole of my boot.   It's not that I'm afraid of spiders, I just know that all spiders are venomous.  Only a few are dangerous to man, but, having never seen this type of spider, I decide squishing is better than the alternative of finding out it is one of danger.  However, as soon as I do the dirty deed, another one jumps out of the cuff of my jeans.

Surprise, surprise!

I don't squish this one immediately.  Instead, I reach down and pull down the cuff.  It's filled with these spiders.  I keep grabbing them and flipping them on the floor to meet the same fate as the first.  Yet, more and more appear.  Not only that, but the other cuff on my other leg (Yes, I have two legs.  If I wanted to make this a smutty piece, I'd talk about a third, but that is not my goal.  I'm not dreaming that type of dream.  Maybe tonight, but not now.)  is also having more of these yellow and black spiders crawling out of it.  

They are almost to the swarming state.  They pop out and I squish.  Over and over this happens.  I start pulling them out with my fingers and notice they have almost no body weight.  I'm doing it so quickly, they have no time to sing their fangs in me.  Yet, it continues over and over and over and over.....

And then I awake.

In real life, I'm not afraid of spiders.  Actually, I'm really not afraid of many things.  Heights, perhaps, but only if I don't have a parachute on.  Skydiving never bothered me.  Standing on the second floor of the Smithsonian Space and Flight Museum did.  Why?  No parachute.

I'm not saying I play with spiders.  I really don't know anyone that does.  None of my neighbors would ever say, "Come on over!  We just got some new spiders to play with!"  

Would yours?

I recognize that spiders eat other bugs I don't like.  Flies and gnats in particular.  Flies and gnats only breed more flies and gnats.  I see no purpose there.  God made all of the creatures on the Earth and gave them purpose.  He screwed up when it came to flies and gnats.  After realizing that, he made spiders to eat them.  I guess that took care of the problem.  

Many reading this may be afraid of spiders.  In the United States, you have reason to fear only the Brown Recluse and the Black Widow.  They can cause much damage.  Australia, Asia, Africa and South America have many more varieties to be wary of.  But, for the most part, spiders are no more dangerous than a pesky house fly or gnat.  

This has absolutely nothing to do with my dream.  I tend to ramble.

Before going to bed last night, I received some disturbing news from a friend, that also decided it was a good time to remind me of some of the frustrations I've been dealing with.  It was all in good intention, I'm sure. Yet, for one trying to forget and find a little semblance of sanity in the crazed world in which we live, it obviously stayed on my subconscious and followed me to bed.  

Aren't friends wonderful?

It's my guess the spiders were in reference to the problems I've been facing and I find a way to squish them from my mind to survive.  The outpouring was simply a reminder that more and more problems were to come that would have to be dealt with in a similar manner.  It may have demonstrated that I have the strength to deal with whatever comes my way and not to stop trying.

I really didn't need a dream to tell me that.  My wife does it in real life.

If I believed in having multiple wives, they could be the spiders.  I can envision little wives heads on black and yellow striped bodies with eight hairy legs swarming out of my pant legs saying all types of wife things.  To squish them with my boot would be murder.  I could be classified as a psycho killer and have to shave my head and wear an orange jumpsuit the rest of my life while I sat in a prison cell repenting for squishing spiders with wives heads.   


Why Can't I Dream Like A Normal Man?
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In twenty years, I could push my walker with wheels in front of a parole board telling them how sorry I was to have squished the spiders with wives heads.  Of course, the parole board would probably be made up of little spiders with black bodies and yellow stripes and the heads of parole board members.  They, of course, would see my remorse was fake, and would keep me pushing a book cart along the many rows of cells in front of my walker with wheels.  The prisoners that would ask me for a book would also probably be little spiders with black bodies with yellow stripes inside of tiny little orange jumpsuits and have heads of murderers, cheats, rapists, and all types of mean crazy people.  


However, I would prefer to simply awaken from this dream and roll over to kiss my wife.




I might even rub her horizontal yellow stripes for fun!




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