The Long Road Home

I was on the train, my stuff all layed out in front of me on the table, when someone told me it was only a short distance before I needed to get off and make the connection to the last leg of the journey. I felt a bit panicky as I scrambled to get everything organized. If I didn't hurry, I would miss the connection! I remember struggling to concentrate so I could get it all back in order quickly. Then there was a brief pause. And then I woke up.

I have had these kinds of dreams innumberable times just before I wake in the morning. This morning, I dreamt I was on a train. But usually, I am either on a bus or rushing to jump onto one. Almost always, there is an issue of complex interchanges and connections that are easily missed and require considerable concentration. I worry that either my timing does not match the bus schedule, or the bus will not deposit me where I want to go. Or I fear I will become lost. Sometimes, I even pull out a map that shows pathways so complex that I would not be able to understand them in waking life.

The worst is if I am actually the one driving, because the car invariably moves me at insane speeds around sharp corners and strangely the spongy brake peddle barely works and the gas peddle seems stuck on 'too fast!' Add to that the fact that I can barely see the road ahead of me and I am surrounded by other cars! Then my main concern is just trying to stay on the road.

No matter which mode of transport, typically I am feeling nervous about making a mistake and thinking that I only have to catch one more connection, and then the next thing I know, I become conscious of lieing in my bed. Who would have thought it would be so complicated just to wake up!

The Gods Must be Crazy

We were gods, glorious and divine. I flew through space and time, my long lithe body gliding between my huge long white wings, my grace and elegance unfathomable. Of course, the wings and my appearance where just an icon, a symbol of my truth, an image that some people saw of me, but it wasn't really what I was. Because I was a God.

Often, I spent time with other Gods, socializing and talking about various interesting aspects of reality and other Godlike things. One God in particular stayed in my mind. He was always bragging about his skills, or so it seemed to me, and it galled me to know that he had many skills and areas of knowledge that I did not have.

I tried to ignore him but one time he began talking about how he could create things from his own body. I did not want to hear about it but he was soon bulging his mighty muscles and I was unpleasantly surprised to see his muscles quickly grew one on top of another, making something where once there was nothing. He made a kind of reality or material from his body that was now a reality unto itself, a truly divine creation and I had no idea how he accomplished that.

I was infuriated by his creation, but I knew I was not as powerful as him and could not challenge him or his creation without being humiliated in loss. However, I was a crafty creature, more so than most other Gods, and now I put that skill to use. I realized that if I took myself far away and then set in motion a series of events in other realities that would snowball into a huge force before they were noticed and before they reached the newly created reality, in this way, I could use my power to destroy that which the other God had created. The other God would not be able to stop the force of the attack by the time he realized what was happening, because the power of the assault would have already magnified a hundred fold over what I had started.

I was thrilled and excited by my brilliance and quickly set the plan in motion. I went to the far away place where no one would ever think to look for me and with a great surge of power and glory, I put forth a series of events that defy description for anyone other than a God. Then I waited eagerly for the outcome.

But it all went horribly wrong. The other God had not done as expected. He had not accepted my brilliant victory. Instead he stood before my attack and took the full brunt, even knowing he would fail. And now he must surely be crushed!

In horror, I raced back through the realities to investigate. For a fraction of an instant, I saw myself as the blindly jealous and lowly creature that I was for having done such a thing, but then I was back to thinking like a God. After all Gods play all the time. What I had done was nothing unusual for our society. I was merely existing according to my nature.

Coming closer to the scene of the attack, I was somewhat relieved to find that the other God was diminished greatly but not destroyed, just in a sort of limbo from the damage done to him. I was saddened by his plight and simply could not understand why he had stood his ground for a mere creation and for those creatures that lived there. Why had he not done the logical thing and stood aside? Why did he care so much about that reality that he would risk his own destruction? The concept was beyond me.

And now he would lay in a near calcified state, nearly immobile through magnitudes of time so long that most of the other Gods would no longer remember him once he rose again. And even in his defeat, he had managed to take the joy of victory from me. I decided I would now fly on to other things and endeavors. This particular game was over and had not been fun at all.

Red Fear

I came into the room to assasinate him. Or should I say 'it.' Gender did not seem relevant but for the sake of discussion, I will call it a 'him.' He was a huge shaggy creature, maybe 10 feet high and lengthwise even bigger, shaped roughly like an elephant but with copious amounts of long wavy reddish fur all over, he stood on all fours with the head and elephantine trunk in the front. THe fur was so thick and fluffy that other anatomic details were obscured.

The creature was relaxed when I came in. My intentions did not seem of concern. Indeed, although I should have struck immediately, instead I dithered and began speaking with the creature. Soon, my intentions wavered. I didn't know why, but I knew I would not kill him. Dimly, I realized the creature was controlling my mind in some way. He took his long trunk and rubbed it gently on my back. The trunk was covered in the red fur but large black hard bumps stuck out from the wavy strands. Vaguely, I knew I had already lost. I was under its control.

The creature allowed me to live in his byzantine dimly lit underground facility. Level upon level of rooms and corridors were present and I was only familiar with a few. Most of the time, I was alone and rarely did I see any of my own kind or even anyone at all. SOmetimes, to keep myself entertained, I went into a large rectangular room made of a clear substance like glass that glowed a frosty white against the darkness of the rest of the facility. THere, I played a form of solo handball against the walls. I felt privileged to be so trusted by the creature.

Another time, visitors came to the facility. They were humans of my own kind and I let them in to visit, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if the creature would be unhappy with me.

It was not long after that I was riding an elevator up to another level and the doors opened out to a floor I had not intended. In the halls of this level, frightened humans huddled. I knew that my coming to this location was the will of the creature so I stepped out into the hall and allowed the elevator doors to close behind me. There was no going back.

I soon saw why the humans were frightened. THings were crawling at the edge of vision. THings skittered out from behind panels in the walls and then disappeared just as fast. They were behind us, in front of us, and in the walls and ceilings. My mind struggled to process them and sometimes I saw them as flattened deflated humans that scrabbled on all fours, but that was probably just an illusion. I didn't know what they were, but I knew they were fast moving, difficult to see, and intent on killing us.

I knew this challenge was set to me by the red shaggy creature, but I was sad to think that most if not all of the humans around me, untrained and ill prepared, would likely die, and even my own life was in grave danger. There was a good change that even with all my skill, I myself might not pass this test. And I accepted that.

End dream.

Mental Winds

Two nights ago, I lay down to sleep and drifted off to blackness. Then I felt a huge wind blast through me. It felt as if it was not only physical but also mental, as if it blew through my mind going from right to left quickly. In retrospect, I heard no movement of any items in the room, so most likely it was only the perception of a wind through some of my senses. But I did hear the sound of the wind itself, first in the right ear and then in the left. I can't decide if I thought it was somehow alive or not. My mind cannot classify the feeling. But it startled me wide awake in an instant. I lay listening for some time and then chalked it off as yet another one of those weird things and then I went back to sleep.

I did not think of it again, until shortly after falling asleep the next night. When it happened again. This time for some reason, I was even more unnerved by it. It felt exactly the same, going from right to left as if a great wind passed through my spirit. Could it be a ghost? I lay away for quite some time until my nerves settled and I finally fell asleep again.

I wonder if it will happen again tonight.

Song of the Past

I looked at my long blonde hair. Somehow I could see how it looked behind my back, from an angle which my real eyes could never see, and I was admiring it. Briefly, I wondered when it had gotten so long. Didn't I used to have shorter hair? Nah, of course it has always been long and lush like that. What was I thinking to consider otherwise!

We were on the road driving this big truck. In the background, someone was telling me all kinds of facts about trucking in California and how various roads were originally constructed for various purposes like to get fruit to the railroad where it could be shipped. I was told how some kinds of produce had amusing nicknames that made their way into the names of streets.

In the background, I could also hear a country and western song playing. The man who sang it had a beautiful melodious voice and the song was somewhat related to our subject of conversation. I remember the last line which went, "Whatcha gotta do is come down to that little torn up town!" and then the song ended and I instantly snapped awake.

I was left wondering where that song had come from. I can't recall ever having heard such a song and nothing comes up on a google search for the words in the last line, but it's amazing to even consider that my subconscious could have invented a whole song like that on the fly.

The Elevators

Tension consumed me. I must not make a mistake or even waver. If I did, everyone would notice. Everyone knew were to go and I must know as well. Up to room seven hundred something or maybe it was eight or nine? The number was fleeting in my mind and I struggled to grasp on to it more clearly. Into one of the millions of elevators I went, still unsure, still hoping I had chosen wisely. The numbers seemed right, the flow was acceptable, and so I had hope I had chosen correctly. One other was in the elevator beside me and she did not appear alarmed so things seemed to be going well. Like all of us, she was very tall and thin and wore loose clothing with vertical panels of various shades of brown and tan. As was expected, she completely ignored me and did not speak.

Finally, the elevator opened at the same time as dozens of other elevator doors on this floor and people simultaneously poured out into the hall and dodged around each other to reach their locations. I felt I was near, very near, and then one of the rooms felt right and I scurried in. I had found the right room with the right number. No one else was in the room, just a table and a few chairs, all carpeted like the floors and walls in subtle shades of brown with hints of mauve. My tension ebbed substantially. The hardest part was over. Now I could start my work day which involved some kind of relaxed concentration.

At the end of the day, after exactly half the time of our planet's day/night cycle, my shift came to an end and the choreographed dash would repeat itself in reverse, but this time with slightly less tension on my part. Now I would take the route back to my room and I was more familiar with that route. I was less likely to make a mistake. Surely, I could find my own room! I concentrated. What was the number? 168 I think it is. And eventually, I was back. Inside were three of the long rectangular carpeted tables that in this room served as beds. Mine was nearest the window. I did not speak to the others of my room. It would not have been polite. Instead, I gazed out our window at the monstrous sparkling rectangular skyscrapers around us, all that was visible against the grey blue sky.

In the morning, the cycle would repeat, except I had been sitting on my bed day dreaming when the other two of my room left. I hadn't noticed as they passed the others in the hall. Now the lead person of the others was in my room and staring at me in shock. I had not passed them in the hall as I should. I was still here in the room. I had committed a monstrous faux paus. Now standing in front of me, he said, "I will chase you out of here," as which point my attention snapped back and fear coursed through me. I jumped up and ran out of the room.

But it was too late, the damage had already been done. I realized when he said he would chase me out, he meant permanently. And now I was out of sync with my tasks. I struggled to remember my destination but the number would not become clear to me. I passed through halls and into an elevator but then sensed the disturbance of those around me. The flow was not right. I was making the numbers unbalanced. I felt hopeless and scared but did my best to look calm and under control at all times just as society dictated.

Briefly, I considered offering to do a favor for the one who was angry at me, but then I looked at my records. How had I let it get so bad? I realized on my record labeled 168, I had countless transgressions stacked up on the top denoted by rectangles and squares of various sizes and bright garish colors, blue, green, orange, yellow. Another favor would mean yet another transgression and I simply could not afford that. And now I was hopelessly out of sync and could not find my room. The halls around me were empty. Everyone had found their place except me.

My life was over.

Suddenly, I got the idea that I would go to the top, to the special floors on the top. No one had ever been there that I knew of and I had no idea what I would find there. But it seemed the only thing to do. I got onto the elevator and signaled to go to the top section. An overseer behind a small desk in the hall was surprised by my choice and looked up inquiringly. I held myself proudly and told her with a confidence that I did not feel that, "I am going to the top." It was the ultimate act of arrogance that I had now embarked. No one ever went to the top!

To my surprise, the overseer spoke to me again, even though etiquette did not allow for such unnecessary chatter. She muttered low, probably so others would not hear her inappropriate talk, and she mumbled words of encouragement and consolation! What things to say! I was not sure how to respond to such strange statements so I ignored her. What did she mean by that anyway? Not only were they unnecessary statements but such strange ones at that! I turned my mind to what I might find above me.

And then the dream ended.

You are All Evil

I approach the woman behind the counter and she says to me, "Oh I know you! You are evil!"

I am surprised. "What?" I say, as confusion mixes with slowly kindling anger at this insult.

"You are evil and so is your whole group." she says, "That's what they told me. Everyone knows that." And then she stands there watching me as placidly as a glacier in a gentle snow fall.

Vaguely, I am aware of several others who have come in with me and now stand around me and I wonder if perhaps those are the group members she refers to as also being evil. Anger gives way to confusion as I consider this statement. Am I evil? I don't think I ever considered it. So I look inward now at my strengths and weaknesses, at my faults and at my frailties. But no, I am relatively sure I am not evil, certainly not perfect but I think still far from evil. "I think you have gotten some wrong information." I tell her calmly. Too bad she can't look into my mind and see for herself, I think to myself.

The woman continues to regard me for a few moments and then another woman walks up behind her with a huge box in her hands. The two woman hold the box out and offer it to me over the counter, but I am reluctant to take it, as if the perception of greed might only worsen my supposedly already existing reputation of being evil.

But they insist the box is a free and kind gift so I step forward and look warily inside the big box to see a swirly white material on the bottom as if decorative cake topping had been applied directly to the bottom of the box. Colors swirled in on one end of the box make an obscure pattern and I wonder at the nature of the gift.

The women continue to assure me it is a free gift and so, wondering if it will be heavy, I finally reach out to take the box. Then I wake up.