Dreamsequence 12.09.018 / Into The Void

You were in a dream of mine last night. The sequence of events is hard to remember. I was in this big wooded park area, looking for a spot to sit that wasn't too close to anyone else. At some point a large, white, Victorian-style house became part of the dream, and I ran into you there.

You were with a large group of people, there was some sort of gathering there. I think we got to discreetly brush hands with one another at some point. I had to go do or see something (we said no more than a sentence or two each during the entire thing), and I had wanted to say bye or say something more, but the group sort of coalesced around you and you went with them, to a large tour bus, which drove away (inexplicably, as it was through the woods). I wandered off from the house and the grouping of people, into what was a larger woods than it had been earlier in the dream.

There was a great depression in the earth, with a lot of the vegetation having turned brown and faded. It made me think that it had been underwater at some point, and the area had an air about it, something like a curse, but I was cavorting in it. Something magical happened when I entered it-- I was flying a magic kite or I started gliding around myself, can't remember-- and then I found some sort of entrance that led underground. I entered, it was something like a labyrinth, strange markings and fluorescent lines seeming to take me on a path through it.

When I tried to go back I found I was lost, and everything had shifted so that it wasn't the same as before. There were places where I could see through to where the other people were, but I couldn't pass through and they couldn't see me. I met other people down there, or ageless shadows of their own selves, whom had each been down there for different amounts of time, some for hundreds of years. That's all I remember.

Also, hello.

09.09.018

Friday 09/09/09, Beatles Rock Band was released. I worked at Blockbuster. We were to rent out not only the game, but apparently guitar controllers and electronic drum pads as well. The game did not do as well as expected, nor do I remember if we actually carried aforementioned guitar controllers or drum pads available for rental. Probably not. My memory is terrible, and I'm probably fabricating some of this.

I saw Tim Burton's movie "9" with my father. I thought we saw it on opening night, though, again, my memory does not serve me. I remember working my first shift at Target directly afterwards, and being so hungry that I threw up popcorn kernels and probably-rancid oil-based butter substitute. I worked more than 5 hours straight without a meal break; my first meal code violation on my first shift, though this should have been and was the responsibility of my trainer, with whom I was zoning in the Grocery department; learning about how the store's shelves were "left-justified," meaning that the label for each facing of product was to the left of the product itself, and the product merchandised to the right. I learned how to read a shelf schematic, and where to look on the shelf label to determine how many facings each piece of product was to have on the shelf.

I had just had my wisdom teeth out not a few weeks before, and my parents had divorced either right after or right before. I'm pretty sure the date of their divorce (which was a date, in a way; they went out for coffee afterwards and discussed how they might again date someday, once my mom had leveled out from her "pink cloud" sobriety status) was September 5th, the date of my orientation and official hire at Target. Again, my memory does not serve me.

Today, it is nine years later. Breakfast is dread, psych meds, and cold coffee gulped straight from yesterday's pot; overheard: meditation for an excessive hour to an paid-for app which is personified by the voice of a British man. British men are experts, don't you know. British people and their centuries-long colonial occupations are so sweet, and cute, and knowledgeable, and pure. Duh. Everyone knows that, though no-one knows that.

Empty here, if you don't count the volumes of misplaced judgment, corrosive acid. I have traveled distances, yet have realized no displacement.

My memory does not serve me.