Monday, January 31, 2011

More about dreams.

Wrote this yesterday about the oddly thematic dreams I've been having lately. (Is there anything more narcissistic than publishing what basically amounts to brain junk)? Last night I had a dream that David Cross was in love with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth and I lived in a high-rise apartment with a security buzzer and front-door cam. The buzzer went off and we looked at the video screen. There were Cross and his two henchpeople, a couple of blond girls. They had masks on which strapped onto their heads like gas masks except their faces were covered by a single opaque surface like the police in THX-1138. The mask covering had a slightly rainbowish shimmery swirling appearance to it very much like these ski goggles my kids acquired somewhere in real life (we don't ski as of yet) that have been in their toy box forever.

The backstory about these three was that they were exceptionally, bitingly obnoxious and being in their presence was to be barraged with a constant stream of snickering little jokes and puns about everything you said. But Cross was in charge. E and I rolled our eyes when we saw them all on the security camera but for some reason we let them in.

Along with anxiety dreams about getting lost, missing deadlines or starring in plays for which I don't know my lines, I've also had these recurring dreams of impotence. (No, I don't mean like a reverse wet dream. I'm being figurative). Basically someone pisses me off, a male, and I try to punch him but my arms are heavy and slow and just fold against his face or torso. I've been having these dreams at least 10 or 15 years. While the other dreams I mentioned yesterday were about weakness---getting in trouble, going to prison, not being a very intimidating crime boss---it's interesting that in this dream I was at last able to punch somebody, David Cross. However. It had the opposite effect of putting me in control.

We let Cross and his flunkies into our apartment and it was abundantly clear he was there to try and woo Elizabeth again, something he'd done many times. He had a sort of craven demeanor. I punched him upside the head. The two girls immediately got up and left, very uncomfortable, and the feeling in the dream was of me being immature and inappropriate. Cross shook it off and continued with a stream of weak jokes. He also made self-serving comments intended to impress Beth.

At one point he said, "Yeah, so, I've been getting in shape: I'm very into yoga now, as well as, you know, electricity." (As in, like, turning the lights off and on). This last part was a joke, and he shrugged when he said it with a mannerism like his character on Arrested Development. I punched him again. He shook his head and paused and regained himself, saying something like, "Anyhoo..." but he looked genuinely hurt and ashamed, and again, I felt not just immature, but unstable. It wasn't action hero violence but I-collect-disability-checks-for-my-serious-emotional-problems violence.

I don't remember the rest of it. In my dream life, I've achieved something that has eluded me for years, only to have the epiphany that it is not the thing. Is my subconscious becoming enlightened, completing the necessary life lessons on the way to realization, while I am not? Will it surpass me?


Elizabeth said...

Oh yeah. My milkshake brings David Cross to the yard (of our dream high rise apartment.)

Anonymous said...

Does it make me incredibly old and geeky that I actually enjoyed THX-1138 and remember David Cross from Mr. Show?

dbs said...

Dude. Are your dreams directed by Quentin Tarantino?

Elly Lou said...

Elizabeth made me piddle with laughter. As did the electricity thing. Also I really had to pee.

Eric said...

Save your pee! Take a picture of it! Along with writing about dreams, that's the kind of piss us bloggers do.

Eric said...

My friend if you enjoyed THX-1138 it's not so much that you are old as that you are boring, or at least you seem to be able to tolerate boredom. Or maybe you are a Zen master.