Sobbing Toilets and Cheech and Chong Style Dreams
The flux capacitor powering my internet is capacitating flux. Therefore sometimes I can get online easily and sometimes the pizza wheel of death informs me that I can’t and have to do something else.
I’m a grumbler by hobby, but this is one thing I don’t grumble about… that much. There are some things which are a waste of a grumble. Not having access to the internet is, to me, the universe’s way of saying – Don’t you have other things to do? And I do.
I’m an opportunist by accident. No internet means I can focus on completing some of my photography projects, which I’ve been procrastinating over. I am an amateur procrastinator who could be professional, but I keep putting that promotion off.
I do know why my internet access is up and down like a yo-yo. I can’t do anything about it. So I do other things instead.
The night before last I did a photo shoot for my astrological chart expressed in photography project. It wasn’t quite good enough (Saturn square Sun in the creative 5th), there was a detail which bothered me (Virgo rising). The photograph was trying to encapsulate Neptune in the 3rd. It did do that, sort of. But what did it better was the dream which I had last night.
I am a consistently vivid dreamer, and often am loathe to wake up because my dream life is so much more interesting than my waking life. A problem I have had all my waking life. It’s not a problem for my dreaming life at all, it is a… non-problem. A blessing of curse-like quality.
I went to bed so much earlier than I usually do. I almost wondered if I was sick or something, but I don’t like being sick so I don’t wonder that kind of thing. I wrote some posts in my head as I drifted off to sleep, nothing I would ever write or actually post, unless I have a chip implanted in my brain which automatically posts what I think. I don’t, not yet. Better that way.
Things which you don’t need to know about my sleeping habits but which I’m going to tell you because I specialise in revealing shit about myself which others don’t want to hear and I have a Masters degree in Useless Information…
I grind my teeth when I sleep, so I wear a mouthguard, if I don’t wear it, my teeth disappear, I wake myself up with the sound, and end up with a headache which confirms that I must have a brain tumour.
I sleep with my legs in the shape of a number 4. I don’t know if I always did this or was trained to do this by the cat. The space in the 4 is a wonderful sleeping place for cats, and I wake up regularly in pain needing a hip replacement.
With all of these sleep interruptions you might, probably won’t, wonder how I have time to dream. Things is these interruptions help me to recall my dreams, so they’re kind of useful. Always look on the bright side of life… whistling like Eric….. Idle in the Life of Brian at the very end of the film.
I woke up, sort of, in the middle of a dream and observed my dream self cleaning a toilet. She was sobbing. I mean really sobbing. Heaving sobs. Why? Did she hate cleaning toilets? I quite like cleaning toilets (Virgo clean freakery). I always find it fascinating when my dream self sobs, because I don’t do that very often in waking life. Crying is… not my thing. I once saw a tweet where someone claimed not to trust people who do not cry. That may be good advice. Not sure. I can be trustworthy, it just depends on your criteria for such a thing.
I thought about my sobbing dream self for a few seconds, then went back to dreaming without lucidity, and woke up in the dream a while later.
My dream self and some bloke, who I thought I recognised as a friend of my partner, were cooking up a batch of weed. Very special weed. This was very weird. I don’t do drugs. Not a prude or anything, just not really interested. I’ve tried a few out of curiosity and because I like to think for myself and make my own opinions based on personal experience. Other people may be right, but before I agree, I want to check things out for myself. Not on everything, there are certain things I leave untested and do not form opinions about them. Fence sitting on those. I don’t do medications, other than over the counter stuff. Even then, only when my pain threshold gives out. I don’t trust doctors. Sorry doctors.
My partner was very ill recently. He went to the doctor, and thank his cautious self that he did not follow through on the doctor’s diagnosis or the treatment would have landed him in a coma.
The dream with the drugs was very Cheech and Chong, and Uma Thurman kept crashing our secret laboratory wanting in on our formula for the drug which would addict the world.
So what were these dreams about?
Well, on the whole I can usually interpret my dreams fairly easily. Practice and self knowledge. Knowing what I was thinking before I went to sleep usually explains the dreams. If I was multi-level thinking, which I do a lot, then I can see those multiple levels gather together in the dream.
But I can’t tell you what I was thinking before these dreams, because I was having one of my moments… those moments can only be handled by me. I’ve learned that the hard way, by sharing and watching others lose their… shit. So, I’ll keep it to myself.
Unfair? Maybe. But what is fair and what is unfair? Think about it… how often do you share what you really think with others? And how often is your withholding due to knowing that this part of you can’t be shared?
Eric Idle – “Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life” – Life of Brian