I apologize for the abundance of dreams and other similarly self-focused subjects lately. Part of it is due to me working through some heavy losses, and part of it is because my immobility keeps me from regaling you with tales of the city. Sadly, unless you are fascinated by the sleeping patterns of the dwarf cat, you're stuck with what's in my head. And it's my website, anyway, so if I record nocturnal turnings, it's more for me to analyze. If you are just dying to know about last night's anxiety dream that violently threw me out of slumber, here you go.
I dreamed that I was camping in a forest past the mountains, but somehow people thought it was a party, so they kept showing up. They were largely horrible guests, complaining about the food and forgetting who I was. I excused myself and went off to catch oversized, iridescent dragonflies. Scott, who was my initial camping partner, was sitting by a puddle making something with his hands. He smiled at me, similarly relieved to be away from the party. But when I turned to tell him about how awful this one guy was, he wasn't there anymore, and I was alone by a lake.
I felt my teeth tighten, as though they were being pushed together. I worried about my right incisor cracking, so I wiggled it in hopes of adjusting it. Instead, it became loose, and I decided to pull it out. It did so easily and painlessly, but then I realized I needed help, and I was alone. I turned to Sabrina (I know nobody was there a second ago, but it's dream logic) and said, "I look like Jed Clampett." She laughed and said we'd find a dentist. "It's Sunday," I said. "Nobody will be open." But I followed her to a train anyway, where we rode past a horseless ranch. I could taste blood on my tongue, and when I looked down, my hands were overflowing with lost teeth and delicate bones. In the inky night sky by my parents' house, the moon was enormous, spinning in a downward curve and back up again; when it came close to reaching us, it looked like a globe. Sabrina had never seen anything like it, but I said, "It's a waxing moon."
Then Sabrina was reading the newspaper, where she saw an ad for a McMansion for sale in San Diego. It was $99,000 and she couldn't get over how cheap that was. I questioned the integrity of its countertops and was sure it was a scam. At that point I began to worry intensely about my missing tooth, and I wished I hadn't pulled it. I was still holding the teeth and bones in my hands when I saw that Scott was driving behind us. He was wearing an army-green parka. "Why is he here? He has nothing to do with this," I said. I didn't want him to see me without my tooth. "He knows what to do," Sabrina explained. He entered the car, said he could fix my tooth, and told me to let him hold me. "Why are you here?" I asked. "My teeth are not your problem." I looked into his hands, where shark teeth were mixed among my teeth and bones. His face was close to mine and I was scared he was going to drop me. He didn't, and I was peaceful for a moment despite knowing he'd do nothing for my teeth. Then I perked up as we approached a corner building. It looked like something you'd see in Wilmette. I assumed the dentist must be inside.
Suddenly, I threw my teeth aside and jumped out of the car for a very good reason: I saw my father walking past a floor-to-ceiling window. I rushed inside, turned the corner, and found him. He was very wobbly, thinner than usual, a bit younger, but not weak. He'd just been released from somewhere, but I wasn't sure where. I was so happy to see him, even though it seemed like he was walking drunkenly. "I can smell it from ten feet away," Betty hissed. Sure enough, he was completely blotto in an almost cartoonish way. I walked him to a chair and propped him up. He was wearing a Valentino shirt. I adjusted his shirt and said, "You don't need to be like this."
"Yesh I do," he slurred. "You don't undershtand."
"No," I said. "You can stop. You did it before, you can do it again."
"I don't know," he kept saying. I held him, looked around, and nobody was there. And... scene!
I dreamed that I was camping in a forest past the mountains, but somehow people thought it was a party, so they kept showing up. They were largely horrible guests, complaining about the food and forgetting who I was. I excused myself and went off to catch oversized, iridescent dragonflies. Scott, who was my initial camping partner, was sitting by a puddle making something with his hands. He smiled at me, similarly relieved to be away from the party. But when I turned to tell him about how awful this one guy was, he wasn't there anymore, and I was alone by a lake.
I felt my teeth tighten, as though they were being pushed together. I worried about my right incisor cracking, so I wiggled it in hopes of adjusting it. Instead, it became loose, and I decided to pull it out. It did so easily and painlessly, but then I realized I needed help, and I was alone. I turned to Sabrina (I know nobody was there a second ago, but it's dream logic) and said, "I look like Jed Clampett." She laughed and said we'd find a dentist. "It's Sunday," I said. "Nobody will be open." But I followed her to a train anyway, where we rode past a horseless ranch. I could taste blood on my tongue, and when I looked down, my hands were overflowing with lost teeth and delicate bones. In the inky night sky by my parents' house, the moon was enormous, spinning in a downward curve and back up again; when it came close to reaching us, it looked like a globe. Sabrina had never seen anything like it, but I said, "It's a waxing moon."
Then Sabrina was reading the newspaper, where she saw an ad for a McMansion for sale in San Diego. It was $99,000 and she couldn't get over how cheap that was. I questioned the integrity of its countertops and was sure it was a scam. At that point I began to worry intensely about my missing tooth, and I wished I hadn't pulled it. I was still holding the teeth and bones in my hands when I saw that Scott was driving behind us. He was wearing an army-green parka. "Why is he here? He has nothing to do with this," I said. I didn't want him to see me without my tooth. "He knows what to do," Sabrina explained. He entered the car, said he could fix my tooth, and told me to let him hold me. "Why are you here?" I asked. "My teeth are not your problem." I looked into his hands, where shark teeth were mixed among my teeth and bones. His face was close to mine and I was scared he was going to drop me. He didn't, and I was peaceful for a moment despite knowing he'd do nothing for my teeth. Then I perked up as we approached a corner building. It looked like something you'd see in Wilmette. I assumed the dentist must be inside.
Suddenly, I threw my teeth aside and jumped out of the car for a very good reason: I saw my father walking past a floor-to-ceiling window. I rushed inside, turned the corner, and found him. He was very wobbly, thinner than usual, a bit younger, but not weak. He'd just been released from somewhere, but I wasn't sure where. I was so happy to see him, even though it seemed like he was walking drunkenly. "I can smell it from ten feet away," Betty hissed. Sure enough, he was completely blotto in an almost cartoonish way. I walked him to a chair and propped him up. He was wearing a Valentino shirt. I adjusted his shirt and said, "You don't need to be like this."
"Yesh I do," he slurred. "You don't undershtand."
"No," I said. "You can stop. You did it before, you can do it again."
"I don't know," he kept saying. I held him, looked around, and nobody was there. And... scene!
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