Weird dreams, interspersed with cat
July 24th, 2009 | 
Author: One side effect of my recent inability to wake up in the mornings, even with Rock Radio Manchester blaring at me from the radio alarm, is some really weird half-waking dreams. Let's see, last night/this morning:
Main feature was that my brother had been kidnapped (and you should choose death rather than mess with my brother, because it'll be a lot less pleasant than the wrath I'll visit upon you. Just, y'know, FYI). I was heading out to sort this out.
This is Filibuster. The neighbours think they named him Fergus, but they are wrong.
In the front hall I passed one of my mother's work cases, which had developed a hole. Soil was pouring out of it with a dry wiffle noise. It later started spilling white powder instead. I wondered vaguely if this was a bomb chemical. (No more CSI for you.)
Otherwise the main event was to do with ladders. I declared that the flimsy rope ladder held up by safety pins, for dogssakes, would obviously not support my body weight. My companion, who was much lighter and possibly a cat, climbed up it to demonstrate, but then the tightrope unravelled under its feet and it was forced to conclude that I was right. We spent some time looking for a more stable way to climb to the upper platform. The purpose of this was never explained.
(Have just had to pause typing while I was summoned to come and see the neighbours' cat, whom I have named Filibuster, and who has shown up in our house this morning and begun falling over on everything hoping for tummy tickles. He is usually not disappointed.)
By now I've forgotten all the lesser dreams, but they were weird too. The other 'main' dream involved my somehow stumbling into a web forum frequented or run by Jack, my internets ex.
Jack was a writing partner and, well, I see no need to tell the whole story because the upset and hurt at our eventual split has faded to the point that I barely remember his existence, and indeed am surprised that my dreaming module does at all.
(Have just been summoned AGAIN to see the aforementioned cat trying to cram himself into a box half the size of a shoebox.)
Jack was present, along with his right-hand person who never showed up except when he was there (to the point that I used to wonder if they were the same person and Jack had invented them as a sock puppet to agree with everything he said! This was later disproved to my satisfaction), and some others I didn't know.
Jack had just posted a message (or written a note; for some reason handwriting was also involved) saying he'd seen I'd dropped by and everyone, this is Mutt [my handle, or one of them] and omg <3 and wasn't it nice of me. I cannot imagine Jack being like this.1
(All RIGHT, mother, no need to come in and tell me the cat is now sitting in the bath asking for a drink.)
I needed to reply, which for some reason involved instructing them not to use the wrong pronoun for me(!) and some other administrative issues. I was debating whether to tell them I'd been the one who saved their website from going offline by picking up the domain and hosting costs. (Honestly, reptile brain, web doesn't work that way.)
Judging by the overall tone, this dream was an indication that I'm empowered and free from all that past negativity and all that hippie stuff. All very fine and Oprah. I just wonder why I'm dreaming about him at all. I feel nothing towards him now. Encountering him again would be like getting to know someone new, not having someone grateful and pleased to see me like he was in the dream.1
The whole web-hosting stuff may have come from my re-registering a dropped IRC channel last night, mind you… and I do still keep our old domain name active, in case any old friends should look for us there. Oh well.
1 This would have been more believable.
Jack posted:
Oh, everyone, this is Mutt, the one I told you about who was so unfair to me when I disappeared from hir life without word for a year to play Everquest. I suppose you'll all like hir better than me. I'll just be in this corner, turning my face into the wind with my hand on my hilt. No, no, it doesn't bother me at all if you all turn your backs on me.
He wasn't that bad, most of the time, but he had a passive-aggressive, attention-seeking side and he expected to be taken as terribly seriously as he took everything else. Don't worry, I was a severely depressed teen when I knew him, so I was probably nearly as bad in my own way.
Anyway, basically, this isn't a portion of my life I'd decide to revisit out of the blue.
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