Dream Journal 11/2/19 | Organism

I was at my grandmother’s old house in Maine taking a shower. There were little glowing bits coming out of the showerhead, and they collected in the water, which was pooling around my ankles, rising to my shins.

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Dream Journal 4/2/2016

My mother and I were on our way to my great-aunt’s funeral (she is still alive in real life). The funeral went by quickly, with people coming up to us and giving us their condolences, and hugging my mom, who was very close to her. My mom and I were talking about spending the week at my grandmother’s apartment with her (she is actually dead, so…) to make sure that she was okay, and I argued that there was no way that the three of us would survive a week in her one bedroom, efficiency-style apartment.

We went anyway. At my grandmother’s apartment, she informed us that we would have to share the love seat in the living room, or sleep on the floor, because there was nowhere else to sleep. My mom got angry and stormed out, and my grandmother sat in her chair by the living room window and lit up a cigarette. I walked out of the apartment and went to explore the building.

My grandmother’s building was exactly the same as it was in real life. She lived on the top floor of a six story apartment building, filled with mostly elderly people, or low-income families. The building was shaped like a “U”, with a courtyard in the center, which was mostly used for smoking. The hallways were as dark as I remember, and a bit gloomy, and I walked up and down the back stairwells, just like when I was a kid. On the floor below my grandmother’s, I stopped to watch a maintenance man unload pallet after pallet of colorful Room Essentials towels from Target, all unwrapped and stacked randomly, which made me cringe.

Blue yellow green yellow blue red pink pink yellow blue green white red…

Something like that.

I stood there and watched him for a while, before returning to my grandmother’s apartment. When I walked in, I found her lying on the living room floor, lifeless. I stood over her, just staring, until my mother came back. She saw her on the floor, and screamed. She started telling me to do something, and I just shrugged and told her to try CPR, but that I doubt it would work, as she was already blue-tinged and cold. She kept yelling at me to do something, so I picked up the phone and called 9-1-1. While I was on the phone with them, my mom left again.

I hung up the phone and walked to the fridge, looking for something to eat. It was filled with grapefruit halves, a half gallon of milk, and coffee creamer. Just like I remember. On her kitchen table was a large, brown paper bag, which was filled with various takeout containers. I opened the top one, which had two large, meaty sandwiches in it. There was a sticker on the container dated from almost a month prior. My mom walked back in just then, and I asked her if she thought the sandwiches were okay to eat, and she knocked the container out of my hands. We stared at each other for a while, then she left again, slamming the door behind her. I picked up the fallen sandwiches, and the brown bag, and placed it all in the kitchen sink.

That is all I remember before I woke up. I vaguely remember something about Jurassic Park, but I don’t know why.

Daily Prompt 2/2/2016 | Surely Not the Best Colors That You Shine

The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 2/2/2015 | This Is Your Song

“Take a line from a song that you love or connect with. Turn that line into the title of your post.”

Crossfade ~ Colors

This song has stuck with me since 2004, when I first heard it as a freshman in high school. I loved most of my teenage life, as well as a good chunk of my young adult life, letting people tellme who I should be. How I should dress, what makeup to wear, who to talk to, what I could and couldn’t do to, because they wanted me to fit into this perfect, little bubble of who they wanted me to be. For a long time, I felt like I couldn’t be myself. I really came into my own towards the end of my high school days, and was finally able to be who I felt I was supposed to be.

Later on, after I graduated high school, I got into a relationship with a great guy, but always felt like I was living in his shadow. I even went to the college that he wanted to go to, and my life became completely dependent on him. I didn’t really have friends, and people only seemed to know me as “Matt’s girlfriend”. I resented that, wanting only to be able to be myself, and to be accepted for that. We ended up breaking up.

After that, I started a relationship with the person who had been my best friend for years. And it ended badly. He, and his family, were very controlling, manipulative, people. I felt like the insecure, high school girl that I once was, not allowed to be who I was, and having to choose my words carefully to keep the judgement at bay. He controlled every aspect of my life, and I had to rely on him for everything. I became more and more depressed, resorting to self-mutilation just to feel anything, something that I hadn’t done since I was a teenager. I was stuck in a dark face, but was forced to plaster on a smile, because no one wanted to “deal with” me. Our relationship became very emotionally abusive towards the end, and his own insecurities, brought on by his family, drove us as far apart as humanly possible while still living together. We broke up, and I had to completely start over, stranded in an unfamiliar town, surrounded by people and places that reminded me of him, his emotional abuse, and his controlling, cruel family.

Then, I met Kyle. Kyle showed me that it was okay to be who I was, even if that meant being different than those around you. Because your colors will never shine as bright if you are trying to cover them with clouds. I am so much stronger, and I shine so much brighter now.

Thanks for reading, friends.

Jan