Some Randomness
Last week, whilst waiting for my coffee, I was looking out the giant glass wall/window of the shop and to a bridge across the small lake in the park. (whoa preposition overload!) I was checking out what kind of bridge they built in the semi-new "health" park behind Toyama eki. To my surprise, there was a young man at the top of the bridge and he was dancing. At first, I wasn't sure if he was having a fight with an imaginary being, practicing a martial art I am not familiar with, or maybe just dancing? Dancing it was. J-pop style. Sadly, he wasn't 100% into it. There was still some sense of shame or embarrassment to his public display. Part of me was happy he was dancing at all, but another part was hoping he would throw caution to the wind and really break it down.
I turned back to my coffee and when I glanced back before leaving the shop, I saw him stop and run over to his girlfriend who had been sitting further down the bridge. I am left to ponder. Was it a display of love? Courtship? Maybe a dare?
We are going to Kanazawa this weekend, and I'm pretty excited. I haven't been to a museum for quite a while now, and I am starting to feel art pangs.
Also, I need to start sketching out my dreams again, I think. Last night... sabre-toothed antelope babies. Yup.
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dream. Show all posts
Monday, March 09, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
In my Absence, I dream
3 of us were traveling together. 2 had bones broken, and were taken in by a man who seemed to be gentle, and offered us spaghetti sauce later that day. He healed our broken legs with a gun. He had a small dog, which seemed to switch between happy and nervous. I wandered outside while the man was preoccupied, and saw a neighbor. I walked to him and asked how the man treated the dog. He said that the man was lovely to the dog as long as it remained inside, but once it stepped foot out the door, the man became extremely violent. I began to worry, and simultaneously noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was a 3-4 foot tall jet black creature. It was all legs, slowly making it's way down the street like an ink-drenched alien spider. I was afraid. I questioned the neighbor about this monster as well. He said it was a "wethen" and it fed on spaghetti sauce, which is what you are having for dinner. It knows what you are having for dinner, it can smell it. I started running for the house. Slamming the screendoor behind me, I screamed for the others. The wethen clawed at the door and shrieked at an ear-piercing pitch. It pushed me over and broke through the door, only to jump on the face of my friend. Flashforward: the man somehow subdued the wethen, and placed it in my friend's arms as she sat on the couch. He instructed her to bite each of it's arms. I ran from the room. I couldn't understand why they trusted the man. If he and the wethen feed on the same thing, there is something in him to fear.
3 of us were traveling together. 2 had bones broken, and were taken in by a man who seemed to be gentle, and offered us spaghetti sauce later that day. He healed our broken legs with a gun. He had a small dog, which seemed to switch between happy and nervous. I wandered outside while the man was preoccupied, and saw a neighbor. I walked to him and asked how the man treated the dog. He said that the man was lovely to the dog as long as it remained inside, but once it stepped foot out the door, the man became extremely violent. I began to worry, and simultaneously noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was a 3-4 foot tall jet black creature. It was all legs, slowly making it's way down the street like an ink-drenched alien spider. I was afraid. I questioned the neighbor about this monster as well. He said it was a "wethen" and it fed on spaghetti sauce, which is what you are having for dinner. It knows what you are having for dinner, it can smell it. I started running for the house. Slamming the screendoor behind me, I screamed for the others. The wethen clawed at the door and shrieked at an ear-piercing pitch. It pushed me over and broke through the door, only to jump on the face of my friend. Flashforward: the man somehow subdued the wethen, and placed it in my friend's arms as she sat on the couch. He instructed her to bite each of it's arms. I ran from the room. I couldn't understand why they trusted the man. If he and the wethen feed on the same thing, there is something in him to fear.
Monday, September 25, 2006
drowning in neutral
Dreams freak me out.
I was on a beach, in a very desolate area, almost everything is of a neutral tone. The sand looks grey, the water a pale foamy nondescript color. I enter the water wearing scuba gear, and am pulled out from the shore. We are off the shore of an island, and I have trouble submerging. The water is a bit choppy, and I try to go under with my snorkel, but end up coughing and choking a bit on the sea water. It tastes thicker in my mouth, almost a bloodlike viscosity. I spit it out, and remember to clear it with my regulator, as I switch to breath through it. I have about 3 breaths of air before I am sucking at nothing. I remember how cold the water was, and the feel of the rubber against my lips. I keep trying to clear my mask, and I can't see anything. I open the bottom to let the cold water in, hoping that will de-fog it, but to no avail. I realize that my tank had been prepped, and then the air valve had been closed again. I noticed that all the people around me (maybe 4) had their heads in the water, and seemed to be heading in the same direction. I blindly followed, but was concerned, because I didn't think we were heading the right way and I couldn't breathe. I finally caught up to a girl, her hair was short and blonde, and her ear was half-covered with water. I began calling to her, to help open my valve. I thought about doing it myself, but would have had to take the vest off. Plus, I was already having difficulty keeping bouyant, with no air in my vest and fighting the current that was pulling us further out. I watched her ear the entire time I called to her, mesmerized and terrified by the water, which was keeping me from breathing, as it covered her ear with each wave. She didn't hear me until the third call for help, and when the valve opened, I immediately lifted a bit out of the water as my vest filled. I had this calm over me throughout the whole experience. I was really scared, but its like my body refused to convey it. I was moving mechanically, felt out of myself.
The dive was over, I had spent all my time trying to breathe/etc. Everyone still seemed to be heading the wrong way, though. I began to panic, and finally got oriented. I walked out of the water with some difficulty, and dropped my gear on the shore. There was still no color anywhere. I felt drained. I felt like the landscape around me had lost all its life, and felt like the air I so desperately needed in the water was taken away from me again. On dry land, I couldn't breathe. No sun, no color, no life, no air. I felt the sand, I could still feel, but it just felt empty running through my fingers.
Dreams freak me out.
I was on a beach, in a very desolate area, almost everything is of a neutral tone. The sand looks grey, the water a pale foamy nondescript color. I enter the water wearing scuba gear, and am pulled out from the shore. We are off the shore of an island, and I have trouble submerging. The water is a bit choppy, and I try to go under with my snorkel, but end up coughing and choking a bit on the sea water. It tastes thicker in my mouth, almost a bloodlike viscosity. I spit it out, and remember to clear it with my regulator, as I switch to breath through it. I have about 3 breaths of air before I am sucking at nothing. I remember how cold the water was, and the feel of the rubber against my lips. I keep trying to clear my mask, and I can't see anything. I open the bottom to let the cold water in, hoping that will de-fog it, but to no avail. I realize that my tank had been prepped, and then the air valve had been closed again. I noticed that all the people around me (maybe 4) had their heads in the water, and seemed to be heading in the same direction. I blindly followed, but was concerned, because I didn't think we were heading the right way and I couldn't breathe. I finally caught up to a girl, her hair was short and blonde, and her ear was half-covered with water. I began calling to her, to help open my valve. I thought about doing it myself, but would have had to take the vest off. Plus, I was already having difficulty keeping bouyant, with no air in my vest and fighting the current that was pulling us further out. I watched her ear the entire time I called to her, mesmerized and terrified by the water, which was keeping me from breathing, as it covered her ear with each wave. She didn't hear me until the third call for help, and when the valve opened, I immediately lifted a bit out of the water as my vest filled. I had this calm over me throughout the whole experience. I was really scared, but its like my body refused to convey it. I was moving mechanically, felt out of myself.
The dive was over, I had spent all my time trying to breathe/etc. Everyone still seemed to be heading the wrong way, though. I began to panic, and finally got oriented. I walked out of the water with some difficulty, and dropped my gear on the shore. There was still no color anywhere. I felt drained. I felt like the landscape around me had lost all its life, and felt like the air I so desperately needed in the water was taken away from me again. On dry land, I couldn't breathe. No sun, no color, no life, no air. I felt the sand, I could still feel, but it just felt empty running through my fingers.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Now I know how Yuki feels
For those of you caught unaware, Yuki is the name of my cat. I say "my" loosely, as I have not seen this particular kitten in over a year now. He is residing in the great city of Chicago, and for that I am excessively jealous this week. You see, Yuki is a special needs cat. At least that is what the nurse at the kitty shelter told me. Turns out my furry black friend is an amputee. I won't tell the sad saga that is his early life, be happy to know that he is probably the luckiest cat in the western hemisphere at this moment.
I allude to the cat because Yuk used to have attacks of phantom limb. He would often sit on the floor, hike up his stump and shake it vigorously, in an attempt to scratch his ear. It nearly made me cry the first time I saw, and I would dive across the room to take the place of his foot and scritch it for him. Many people found it amusing, but to me it was devastating. The only way I could think to stop it would be to give him a peg leg, or perhaps a whisk leg. I didn't want a traumatized AND embarassed cat, so I decided against prosthetics.
The past few days I have had a similar feeling. My best friend left Japan several days ago and I feel rather like I lost a limb myself. I keep reaching for my keitai to tell him about something hilarious that happened, knowing he would appreciate it. Last night was the worst, though. I stood up in bed, searched around the room for him, even looked on the balcony for him, and as I opened my sliding doors to search the kitchen and bathroom, it hit me. He is not here. I know I was half asleep, but I was really confused and sad.
It doesn't help that I have very vivid dreams. Sometimes I wake up and don't know where I am, or crying about something I can't remember. The phantom will fade with time, I suppose. But there is something almost comforting and justifying in feeling it.
For those of you caught unaware, Yuki is the name of my cat. I say "my" loosely, as I have not seen this particular kitten in over a year now. He is residing in the great city of Chicago, and for that I am excessively jealous this week. You see, Yuki is a special needs cat. At least that is what the nurse at the kitty shelter told me. Turns out my furry black friend is an amputee. I won't tell the sad saga that is his early life, be happy to know that he is probably the luckiest cat in the western hemisphere at this moment.
I allude to the cat because Yuk used to have attacks of phantom limb. He would often sit on the floor, hike up his stump and shake it vigorously, in an attempt to scratch his ear. It nearly made me cry the first time I saw, and I would dive across the room to take the place of his foot and scritch it for him. Many people found it amusing, but to me it was devastating. The only way I could think to stop it would be to give him a peg leg, or perhaps a whisk leg. I didn't want a traumatized AND embarassed cat, so I decided against prosthetics.
The past few days I have had a similar feeling. My best friend left Japan several days ago and I feel rather like I lost a limb myself. I keep reaching for my keitai to tell him about something hilarious that happened, knowing he would appreciate it. Last night was the worst, though. I stood up in bed, searched around the room for him, even looked on the balcony for him, and as I opened my sliding doors to search the kitchen and bathroom, it hit me. He is not here. I know I was half asleep, but I was really confused and sad.
It doesn't help that I have very vivid dreams. Sometimes I wake up and don't know where I am, or crying about something I can't remember. The phantom will fade with time, I suppose. But there is something almost comforting and justifying in feeling it.
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