stuff and junk and stuff

[maradydd]

Yup, I'm still here. I spent most of last week being some combination of sick and preoccupied. Between that, I saw Spartan and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (two thumbs up for both), and I got roadworthy tires put on my bike (as opposed to the mudworthy tires that had been on it before). If it isn't raining on Tuesday, I'll bike to school.

Not much going on beyond that. I had a short but interesting dream last night.

For some reason which had not been explained to me, the world had a whole lot fewer people in it; this had been the case for quite some time, and I was not particularly surprised by it. I was making my way through a heavily wooded subdivision of mostly abandoned houses. Thick vines, which looked like ivy but grew like kudzu, had twined through broken windows and over people's driveways, carpeting the ground and obscuring everything but the shape of the buildings.

I was carrying a load of beat-up paperback books (I knew in the dream that I had recovered them from an abandoned church, though I didn't see the church in the dream), and before long I came to a steep terra cotta staircase leading down a hill, still covered in trees and vines. Managing the books wasn't exactly easy. "Need a hand?" came a voice, and I looked over and saw a man with dark, curly hair, standing on the hillside, up to his ankles in vines. (He looked nothing like any of the men with dark curly hair whom I know in real life, e.g. delavagus or Shannon WINOLJ, nor any of the men with light curly hair whom I know in real life, e.g. ti94.) "Thanks," I said, and shifted some of the books to him. Slowly, we made it down the staircase, and then up the other side. When we got to the top of the hill, in front of us was a wide concrete plaza, terraced with a few steps up and down; at the far end of it there seemed to be a movie theatre. A few people I knew, including martian_bob and CryptoGeekBoi, stood by a railing near the theatre entrance.

"I appreciate the help," I told the guy with the curly hair, and handed him one of the books to keep (it might have been a copy of Atlas Shrugged, but I'm not sure). "But I should go see my friends." There was a deep sense of regret as I said it, but I didn't acknowledge it openly. I walked off, and the dream faded out.

Lately I've found myself getting more used to the idea of being alone, or at least not having someone around all the time, or at least not having someone around as much as I might like. I guess this is a good thing.

Comments

[wabi.livejournal.com]

Wow, that sounds very powerful. I actually love to hear about other people's dreams because I can rarely remember mine and when I do, they're usually incredibly mundane (e.g., I'm on a bus, I'm in line at the bank, etc.)

[maradydd.livejournal.com]

The really coherent dreams aren't all that common. (I suspect I have most of my dreams early in the night and don't remember them upon waking.) Oddly, the really long ones tend to be the most incoherent; the ones that stick with me are very short sequences, like the one last night.

[tonif.livejournal.com]

Wow, that's cool you remember a dream with so much clarity. Mine fade fast, unless of course they're particularly terrifying. Those stick around for days.

[maradydd.livejournal.com]

I think what I remembered the most was the inexplicable sense of regret that I felt as I walked away, and that kept it in my head more strongly than might otherwise have happened. If there's not something strong to attach to (hang a memory on?), my dreams fade pretty quickly as well. Then again, terrifying dreams should have plenty of powerful imagery to go around.