Another dream to write down before it fades away in the events of the day. It seems this time I moved to Los Angeles. Why my mind chose that location is a mystery. Maybe it’s because of my online friend who lives there, even though I never saw her in the dream. There certainly hasn’t been a time I’ve wanted to go there. Sorry, Angelenos, I know many Ohioans romanticize about your city. Maybe it’s to your relief I never caught the bug? There’s at least two sides to every story. I’d probably be regarded as a tourist.
Anyway, I had the impression I was only staying for a couple of weeks but realized I had moved everything I owned on to a moving van. The first day was quite a sublime chaos, adventure at its most accessible. However, coming to grips with the permanent nature of such was a little terrifying. The house hunting. Finding employment. The roommates. Not knowing who to call for help. My scant few resources didn’t allow for an easy renege on such a hasty decision. My parents, old and tired, couldn’t send much in the way of anything. I was on my own.
I ended up in an apartment with two roommates. They both looked the same: thin, Caucasian, brown hair, blue eyes, fade cut with horn rimmed glasses, red and white flannel shirts and blue jeans. The one I greeted and shook his hand in typical fashion, but the other was different. He was quite polite, but wouldn’t shake my hand. After the declination he said, “maybe at a later date.” As he said this, he held up his hand which was emaciated and gnarled. This was all done in such polished manner, I got the impression he was embarrassed about it. It didn’t have anything to do with me.
My alarm woke me up before I could go much further, but dreams like this are so distinct that I’d like to believe there’s more to what my mind is trying to express (not forecast, mind you). It’s as if there’s something troubling it, and was talking it out through my sleep. I’ll have to come back to this post later on and see if I can make more sense of it.
I always want to remember my dreams and almost never do. These confusing ones I’m glad to forget.
I can’t see you in LA. Maybe Seattle or Portland or even San Diego, but not LA.
Oh yes, there are dreams I want to forget. Sometimes it’s of people I never want to see again and places I never want to return. However, I like writing out the vivid ones. It makes me feel like I still have a creative side.
Yeah, L.A. is not my home. I know that without even knowing, if that makes sense. I’ve never seen the West Coast, and try not to make too many judgments based on that knowledge.
Last year, when I was thinking about moving but couldn’t decide where, I had many dreams involving hasty and ill-planned moves. I believe it stems from being at a transitional point in your life, or feeling like you should be at one.
It’s quite possible. Then again, if we open that up metaphorically, it becomes ponderously huge. I suppose we all could use some room for interpretation. It’s less crowded that way.
I think you’ve been listening to a lot of Marilyn Manson’s “The Beautiful People,” and you’ve got vacuous L.A. on the brain. No, probably not. My dream last night involved a cliche high school locker, so what do I know? I DO know that I like the word “renege” bc it doesn’t look the way you pronounce it. It’s like it wants to be French, but then gets denied every time. Also, I think it would make a good SUV. The Chrysler Renege. P.S. you are too old for roommates, especially gnarly slackers like those two. The least he could do is offer you his stump.
I haven’t heard “The Beautiful People” in a hot minute. That sounds like a great idea. If I remember correctly, the Chrysler Renege was their answer to Ford’s Vegas Engagement. I may be too old for roommates, but it could have been worse I suppose. I could have starred opposite Tom Hanks and Peter Scolari.
[…] mind you, but mental reflection. I’m not that vain. This is much like my earlier post about the dream, which I have a vague idea now what I was troubled over. I think I am concerned over making the […]