Friday, February 02, 2007

convincing dictum prancer

"So, I had two nightmares last night."
"In the first, my left hand was cut to ribbons, like it was made of latex or something synthetic, because there was no blood and no pain."
"That's disgusting,"
"I told myself this must be a delusion, and then I convinced myself I could test the theory by finding a mirror,"
"Lemme guess, by the strange logic of dreams you found yourself-,"
"-In front of a mirror, exactly, and I told myself that if my hand in the mirror was okay then my hand must be okay,"
"Was it?"
"Yeah, when I looked in the mirror my hand was fine and then when I looked at my own left hand it too was fine,"
"Whaddya suppose it means?"
"Well, I can't say for sure but I'd guess it means that either I believe some part of my perceptions of the world are delusional or..."
"Or what?"
"That some part of my subconscious is trying to tell me I'm living a lie, that it's not my perceptions of the world that are delusional, it's my perceptions of myself,"
"What was the second dream?"
"That one only seemed to point in the same disturbing direction,"
"Come on, a serial dream?"
"Who can know for sure? I intuitively know that there is a connection, I just don't know for sure,"
"So what happened?"
"In the second dream I was an inmate in a prison, I think I was in there for murder, but this was in some archetypal 30's and I had found a way to come and go as I pleased,"
"Dream logic again?"
"Yeah, apparently the guards allowed anyone in street clothes to come and go so I had apparently smuggled some in and was making frequent trips home, but in the dream, I had forgotten to drive back in my prison clothes and realized that the guards would notice me changing in my car and I wouldn't be able to come and go as I pleased anymore,"
"all this thinking while ignoring the facts that they would have noticed you driving towards the prison in prison clothes and that of course, it was never that simple, even in the 30s, to break out of prison,"
"Exactly, what I remember most, is the feeling that I didn't want to be a prisoner, neither did I want to lose the freedom of being able to enter and exit the prison when I wanted, I truly wanted to get back in, as long as I could leave again,"
"What does your wife think of this?"
"I haven't told her,"
"My friend, you are one conflicted individual, lemme buy you a drink,"

1 comment:

Lexa Roséan said...

what a great blog entry. funny because I cut my hand today wrapping a package. no dream. pretty bloody and messed up. restricted much of my activity. couldn't shuffle tarot cards or dance tango. drag...