After 48 (so far, ongoing years) you would think I would know me better.
I don’t know how I got to be on the subject, or what prompted this particular stream of thought, But, here’s the thought…
If I took a picture of my hand and compared it to pictures of other hands (posed the same way, same lighting, etc.,) Could I tell my hand apart from the others? What about the eyes? I know I could looking at just the ears, due to the fact I have tiny audio portals.
That’s kinda my point. It is what’s different about us that makes us unique. And it’s not the same as others. Yes, everyone has eyes, noses, audio portals, etc.,
The little differences make us who we are.
In my previous posts about “Lady” and my “Dreams”, a lot of thoughts and feelings overwhelmed me, as you dear readers can testify.
But why…am I looking at my hands? Why, am I looking at things differently after one dream? I had that dream over 3 months ago and it is STILL bouncing around in my head?
Another wayward thought…
Why was I gone so long from Lady? Why did I see fear in her eyes when she came in the door…was it fear? Probably not…probably expectation?
She obviously wanted an answer from me, hence the direct “NO BS” questions.
Has She heard my voice yet? I can’t remember saying anything.
When my eyes were getting heavy in the dream (sleepy in a dream?) that’s when she pinched me with her grip…
She knew…I was fixing to leave her.
Is all this connected somehow to my ego or guilt, or remorse or anything that Freud or Jung tries to explain?
Who are we to “make” guidelines for reality. We call it that…everything has a name…everything has a label attached to it to make it …make it what? Real?
Can you think of anything that has no name?
I can…her name I “gave” her is Lady.
I gave her that basic moniker to make her, what?…real..tangible…believable?
But, she was in a dream…many dreams. Why now give her a name, a label?
To somehow create a bond, whereas before… there was none? But there was…
I recognized her as soon as she came through that door.
She is infecting my soul.
“Remtown” is turning into a destination I wish to visit again.
I am having more recurring episodes of deja vu.
I see things here in the awake place, that feel familiar…but not.
I just remembered..the groceries were in a paper bag…the one she dropped. And I remember a tomato and a cabbage falling out. Obviously she wasn’t expecting me because she would know I hate those two atrocious veggies…Why do I think she’d know…? Just sounds right…
Or is that a sign…a misnomer of some sorts…Man, I could spend a while on “the” couch trying to figure that one out…
I think I felt her brush past me the other night…in this awake place.
Alone in the house…it was kinda like a disturbance that a towel makes when it slides off the rack…you know what I mean?
I smelled her…or something. I smelled tomatoes for Hell sakes. That was weird.
I can’t even eat ketchup now without getting dreamy eyed…worried glances from other patrons.
I’m going to go to bed here in a minute…and I’m gonna sit outside of her door until she answers it.