Tenement Building (Without Permission)
A curious shift is occurring. Tomorrow will be the new moon; my dreams have been ruled by the full moon. This morning, I was woken up by a new puzzle to solve.
Perspective is one thing that I've spoken about in the past three years, perspective changes the direction you are seeing from. In the dream the location was again familiar - The Bronx - but not from the locations that dominated my daily life. I was in the neighborhood directly across the street from my own - if that makes sense. At the far end of the William McKinley Houses, closer to the neighborhood supermarket.
The first part of the dream was confusing. I finally made it into the library at my elementary school, but I wasn't there to study. This accomplishment was necessary for me because any library had been blocked from me entering. I traveled down several city blocks at dizzying speed towards the WMH and met up with several people. A WWII plane is flying overhead and we're spectating. The airplane dips, tries to pull up, and slams flat against the fourteen-story building that was the last address my dad had in the mainland. The chromed airplane is embedded in the bricks. Panic sets in from the PTSD I have from 9-11 when I hear the buildings begin to rumble (This was the same sound I heard when the second tower fell) everyone scatters. I take off running like a bullet - this is too much for me. Heading South-East I burst in through the doors at the Public Library. This was one of my safe zones when I began reading about UFO's. Now far away from the danger I realized where I was.
The library, at last.
I woke up from the dream at exactly 3:01am. Sitting up from the nightmare, I held on to it - rather the image of the chrome airplane embedded in the building made for a nightmarish memory, just enough for me to hold onto the rest of the dream. Another dream memory crept in. Before getting to the school library, I was riding the subway again. The feeling of being chased and escaping from some dangerous force brought me back in. Several people were escaping with me, the train was sitting at the platform with doors open. We were in and out of each car, hoping to pull off the trick they use in movies, ending up on the opposite side of the danger when the doors closed. The Phantom caught up to us. Time to fight. I was pushed out of the train and the rest of my crew battled the threat inside the train.
Falling back into a tumble, I tried desperately to join the fray. I see bodies fly out of the train just before the doors close. I'm up now and the train slowly pulls out of the station. Watching the train for any sign of the villain he pops out between cars nearly grabbing me! He's dressed similar to Darth Vader - cape, leather body armor and gloves. The difference is his mask - a silver face shield. His attire a mash-up of the original Cobra Commander and Vader means this dream villain has quit hiding in the shadows.
My own version of death maybe?
I fall back asleep after going over all of these details. Now I'm wakened by a thumping outside. Unusual for me to hear anything through my earplugs, luckily the left one wasn't seated properly. Thump...thump...thump. Must be the racoon trying to get the trash bin open. I wait until he's discouraged and leaves. For the next hour I'm in and out of sleep finally falling out at 5:14am (I check my sleep app for accuracy) - a new dream starts at 6:02am.
Recently we purchased a new car, a nice Toyota Rav-4. Since we bought the car, I've lost it twice in dreams. This is the second time.
I'm panicking again. Parking in NYC is a hit-or-miss proposition, we've had our car stolen once in Manhattan - it was an old beater. Dealing with opposite side of the street parking regulations is the bane of any New Yorker's existence. This is a recurrence - unresolved because the first time I didn't find the car. Same situation, I park in a spot and have to move it in the morning. Wake up late...AGAIN! The car is gone. Must have been towed - I need to find the number of the tow company. I'm running around like a maniac with the key fob in my hand, searching for my missing car. Like the last time - I am convinced that my memory is going bad and I've just forgotten which street I parked on. I press the fob going up and down familiar streets hoping to hear the "Chirp" of the door lock. Several streets later I hear the response. I'm in the neighborhood that I saw my younger self and notice that the car responding to my fob isn't mine. A beautiful white 69 Corvette Stingray sits out front of a familiar building (From my Rosario Dawson dream) - the color white is a recurring theme of mine.
A garbage truck is on the opposite side of the street, the garbage hauler looks at the car and kicks trash on the side of it as I walk up. "I saw what you did!" I yelled at the hauler; he scowls back at me. Out of the building coming down the steps is a man and his daughter, she has to be at least seven, long blonde hair. He's a doctor - or presenting as one, wearing a white coat. I explain to him what happened with the trash on the car, and that my fob works for his car - I show him. "That's strange - never seen that before" he tells me. Trying his own fob - it doesn't work. I recognize the man now - he looks like the actor Walton Goggins. I tell him "Don't worry, if the fob doesn't work - just go old-school and use the key!"
I wake up. Nearly 6:30am
Sitting on the side of the bed my own words echo in my head "Use the Key." My advice recalls another dream when I hit the jackpot at the door in a Victorian mansion when thousands of keys spilled out of the lock onto the floor in front of me.
I have the key. Time to use it?
No comments:
Post a Comment