I had such strongly visual dreams last night that I thought I wouldn’t be able to go back ever again when I woke up and then ultimately went back to sleep. But I did. I usually can’t get right back into the same dream I was in, but this time I did, almost like a repeat.
Why would I dream this dream (even to embellishment on the first dream) twice?
The dream was that I have in the background of my mind, a husband to get to (I think it probably is my current husband, but it’s kind of irrelevant, since he’s only a motive for movement, and not seen).
I am in a little town, almost like an old fashioned town, and everything is very cramped and packed in in all of the stores, including me. I am carrying my purse, stuffed to the gills, another bag stuffed full that’s larger, and a large black camera and something else, perhaps things I bought? Under all that weight and walking through all these shops that are indoor and the buildings are made of wood, old grey weathered wood, packed in tightly together. I can see no windows or light in most of them because they all seem to face each other.
Inside, I am shopping for gifts for friends, sorting through various purses, scarves, all budget, looking at small toys, one in particular that seems to have a mouse pop out of it, made of sponge inside.
I price things and talk to people (they’re old, most of them), and I meet someone who I want to buy drawing pastels from, and yet when they say they have them, they show me only a display box where lots of wicks are lit and there is supposed to be a display of colors in the wax under the wicks, but it all appears to be the same color. I demand to see actual pastels, this is not helpful. I don’t know if I actually get them.
Then I talk to various people’s mothers, and some guy who tells me about a person who has a problem, or isn’t very high IQ or something, and I see her in a group later. I spend a long time trying to leave through various stores and coffee shops that have various products, being distracted, almost buying or buying something, and/or setting down my purse and then trying to find it again, and worrying all the while that it will be stolen (that’s a recurrent theme in my dreams, my purse being stolen), and losing track of some of what I was carrying and and then going back for part of it or all of it (ditto another current theme), and eventually I am trying to mentally leave, to drive back.
Here’s an interesting seque:
As I’m standing in one of the dusty old wooden stores on the front of a block (it therefore has a window), just near a packed in row of parked cars, I and all the others in the shop are surprised by seeing a HUGE truck with a flatbed come through the tiny street, narrowly missing the elevated train tracks or something like that up top, and it’s carrying an ENORMOUS, 12 foot high birthday cake with pink frosting.
We are all speculating what this could be about and who it’s for, when suddenly the flatbed rises up and it becomes like a dumptruck forklift thing underneath and it lifts the huuuuuuge birthday cake up into a position that suddenly looks precarious, and we all begin to shout, because he’ll drop it! we’re sure he’ll drop it! Oh NO! He did drop it, FLOOOMPF, right over on top of a car, just like a pie in the face for the tiny car, and then the truck retracts its platform and drives off as people are coming out from every store freaking out. What the?.
Now they all start laughing incredulously because we realize someone must have planned dumping this huge cake on this particular car. Who would do that? What’s that about?? Who owns this car? We’d like to know the rest of the story behind THIS! Reporters are called from an old black payphone on the street.
I walk away, thinking, wow, someone must have had a serious fit of anger over SOMEone. It’s funny! It’s not funny. Ok, it’s funny. Maybe.
I try to leave all the madness eventually and I try to drive in my car (which is considerably smaller than any real car) back to my husband.
But everything is tiny and closed off, only walking room, and even then the streets seemed to be strewn with all kinds of metal junkyard junk and clutter. There isn’t any smell, it’s not garbage, it’s just….. junk strewn everywhere, and I can’t get through. From the main block where I am I know my husband is waiting for me not but five blocks away, but I can’t get through any of the streets.
I finally pick something that looks wide enough at least halfway down, and I realize people just get out of their cars and move things in front of the doorways, blocking the people inside, and then the people behind the doors move it all back into the streets. So I try to too, getting out of my car and lifting huge pieces of metal out of the way, and wondering when I’ll ever get home, and stuck with all my loot in the car, and do I just abandon this whole thing or not? I try driving over some of it. I get halfway down an alley and I’m stuck again. I could back up and try something else? And that’s where my dream ends, cluttered, cramped, frustrated, exhausted, chaos.
…I think I need a two bedroom apartment. I really do.
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