Dreaming, Not of Here

I dreamed I was in front of a supermarket that was closed. All the lights except a few were out and I was laying outside the windows. I had a really thick jacket made of some kind of bone and reptile skin, smoke grey and black, with matching pants and a bustier. I had thigh-high boots made of bone, spurs and revolvers and a pair of Ninjato on my back. I know, messed up right?

I shook my head a bit because I was a bit foggy and I realised I’d been stabbed in the stomach, beaten in the face and I was bruised all over. I saw the reflection of police lights but heard no siren. I knew they were coming over to look. There was blood on the ground, presumably mine. I kept trying to use a planter to stand up but I couldn’t function right. I slipped, got dizzy or otherwise couldn’t really get my balance. The four-inch tooth-like heels weren’t helping anything. The police drew closer and I felt pressed to stand up and maybe run. I heard them get out of the car and I saw light out of the corner of my eye. They said something but it just rang in my ears. I couldn’t understand.

I tried getting up again and got a good grip on the cobble-like stone planter. I finally rose to my feet as I realised they were commanding me to turn around. The swords crossed and rising off my back most likely made them nervous. This didn’t occur to me until later. I tried turning around but my hands didn’t grip right. My head hurt and I was dizzy. I somewhat fell, spinning, with my back on the planter and an officer fired. I just saw the horizon leap and suddenly I saw the heavens. One officer yelled at his partner and they stopped firing. My head slammed back and I fell to the ground with my back against the planter.

It seemed like moments that an ambulance arrived and the EMTs stared at the officers with aggravation and alienation in their eyes. I could barely hold a thought, my mind was just in haze. They took me to a hospital. I was strapped to a bed like a psychiatric patient. Wrists, chest, head, waist, feet… I couldn’t move. There was an officer at my door and the nurses seemed nervous treating me. I couldn’t help but feel accused of some horrid crime. But what? They had taken the clothes off of me that I was wearing. Just a hospital gown. They asked my name… I didn’t know. They asked what happened… I didn’t know.

Days passed. I was feeling better quickly, but still not up to fighting my way out. One morning, a nurse opened the thick, heavy curtains holding the light at bay. I felt something painful at my back. Pushing through my spine and rib cage. The nurse began to panic. I started squirming but I couldn’t move. It hurt terribly. The nurse held me down but looked toward the officer desperately. The officer stood speechless. The pain grew and I felt like bone was bordering on breaking. I was still disoriented. The pain grew and the nurse called for help. I felt the mattress compress. It groaned and ripped. The bed creaked like it was bending. I still lie in pain, arching my back to try to relieve it. Several ribs broke audibly as something pressed my upwards against the restraints.

A doctor screamed at the officer begging to release the restraints. The officer nodded, then doubled back and told the nurse only to release the chest and head. She did so. I raised from the bed, my arms yanked behind by the wrist restraints. I screamed as my shoulder came out of socket. The doctor screamed at the officer. He only nodded. The doctor and nurse worked feverishly to release me. I felt a bone break but it was below my back… below me. Finally I could move. I leapt upward, feeling my broken ribs and I screeched in perfect melody again. I fell to the floor and scurried towards the back of the room. Immediately, I saw great white wings. One broken, one moving at my will. I thrust it at the others in the room to usher them away.

They all stood, staring in shock. I looked towards the opened window. Somehow I knew that this sunlight was my strength and truth. The truth I found was no holy bond to some otherworldly creature. I was alone and always had been. And these people in this room would result in my incarceration beyond that of prison… but to human fascination instead.

I woke up, terrified of being something of light and beyond that of common understanding. If angels existed, perhaps I understand now why they left.

Dominos, Patterns and Gypsies

Recently I was reminded of a habit I’ve tried to break for years. Many times when I contemplate the go-ons around me, I start to see patterns and domino affects. A simple example would be something to the effect of; a bum is standing outside a coffee shop with that targeting look in their eye. You know you’re dressed a little better than the average and therefor, you plausibly predict the bum is going to ask you for money. That’s a really simplified example, mind you. A little more advanced is that looking at the fellow, you can see by the scowl and the slightly desperate look in their eye that saying no will cause a scene or worse. Then if you decide to give them the ten dollars which you can feasibly predict is going to buy them a fix instead of food; you can’t come back to that place without a lifeline plan to keep away from them because they know they got you to give it to them the first time.

I hate doing that. My mind won’t let up with these kinds of patterns and domino effects most of the time. In a workplace a coworker tells you they’re getting sick and tired of their job and they hate the boss. Typically this is also the person that tends to screw things up to their own more convenient ends and somehow expects a reward or otherwise instant and effortless gratification. The boss gives them a written warning for their gracefully neglected workload and they throw a tantrum. Subsequently they spend the next two or three weeks making everyone’s lives hell by not working, griping about how mistreated they are and otherwise causing drama. The boss talks to them about it, they quit instead of doing their relatively easy job. It all starts with that one step, action, conversation or subtle hint.

I can lay down a pyramid effect with the simplest things including a selection of plausible outcomes based on what the subjects may or may not do. And I hate it. I’m not always right, mind you. But I’m right more often than I like to admit. I usually don’t even talk about it. It’s like the classic tale of knowing the future but no one will listen. I got tired of that in my childhood. I once told my mother step by step how to save her marriage when I was eleven years old. And it worked. I told my dad (both are/were divorced  and remarried) his wife was going to get bitter and tear him apart if he didn’t leave her. One year later they began a two-year divorce and she took millions from him and left. Practically destroyed him. But it wasn’t that simple. I told them when, why and how step by step.

Lately I’ve been seeing very bad patterns in several groups of people I know. I can see that two, if not three, groups of good friends are going to scatter to the wind within six months time. In all three circles, they’re destroying their common bond. And otherwise, their lives are separated enough that there is little more than unmotivated phone calls to bind them. And as usual I’m helpless to stop it.

I should’ve just lived like a gypsy ’til I died of health issues. Wander about making no ties or binds at all and savoring every stranger I meet for the few hours I will know them.