November 27, 2007

I dreamt about a bald eagle last night. I was with some people, but I was the only one who saw it at first. It landed on the ground and we kind of stared at each other strangely for a minute, and then it started dancing. In a most regal and realistic way, though. I remember it arching its neck gracefully and extending massive wings. Then it alighted and flew above us and I started running beneath it, pointing it out (to my mother, especially, who was missing it), all geeked up like a little kid.

I don’t precisely know the people I was with (except my mom), but I had that dream feeling that they were family, old friends and some Xenith people. It was one of those brisk, clear North American days of endless sky and we were outside near a river, with a forest behind us.

Hmm.

January 12, 2008

Last night, I dreamt that I caught Billy Crystal hiding by the side of my house smoking weed. I then proceeded to extort $3,000 (and the weed) from him to keep quiet. Then I called everyone I know in order to tell them the strange, amusing story.

Upon awakening, I was very sad to have neither the money, the weed, nor the gossip.

January 29, 2008

My latest dream of note was more disturbing and tied to my present circumstances. My grandmother has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and one month to live. My mother and I have come back from California to see her through ’til the end. In my dream, I was here in my grandparents’ house and walked out of my bedroom into the hallway. The first thing I see is the wedding portrait of my grandmother’s parents. Her mother is a mere fourteen years old at the time. My great-grandmother’s eyes–and only my great-grandmother’s–move to the left, down the hall.

Down the hall, on the wall, hangs my grandparents’ wedding picture. When I look at it, their heads have switched bodies (groom’s head on bride’s and vice versa) and are partially rotted away, like corpses.

I grab the picture and run into the living room (where it’s miraculously daytime) to show everyone the picture, but hesitate to show my dying grandmother any corpse-like images. When I look down, the portrait is normal again.

The interesting thing here is that my grandmother has always been healthy and youthful looking, whereas my grandfather was diagnosed with aggressive prostate cancer a year ago. The radiation has caused constant bleeding in his intestine, enough where he has to get blood transfusions twice a week. We’re all terrified that his time is limited and have all been assuming that he will be the first to go.

And then my grandmother receives this terminal diagnosis, shocking everbody. No one expected this. This is a complete reversal of what everyone thought would happen–a reversal reflected in the altered photograph?

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