The Colors of Death

I am bleeding. I look down and all I can see is red. 70%. 60%. 50%. My body now is 40% liquid. The crows are squawking above my head waiting for my dead body to crash to the ground. This is change.

Dying in dreams signals a new beginning.

The bullet went straight through my heart before I could make out the perpetrator in the darkness. As I hovered above my dying cells, nothing made sense leading up to this moment except that time when my dad found my 3-year-old body floating face down in the backyard pond. For a moment I could feel that chilly wetness and smell the algae heated by the rays of the sun.

The bottom of the pond was green and the fish that floated by were orange. Green. Orange. Red. I am reminded of the time I fell off my parent's roof. My skinned shins and purple bump on my head swelling to the size of an egg. My brother's clear tears splashing onto my damaged face. I got up never knowing how broken I was. I was bent from the wreckage and all because I was too frightened to take the ultimate plunge.

Alone in the darkness tears well up in my eyes. I am scared, again. I am afraid to move ahead. My dreamworld tenderly holds my hand and kisses my wet cold cheeks coaxing me away from the wreckage and into the white light. It is so bright that I forget who I am.

Little Pig

Last night when I got home I snacked on blueberries, a grapefruit, and bread with Earth Balance. Later I fried up a Polish sausage and dipped it into Grey Poupon. Shortly thereafter I walked over to the local bookstore, chatted with my friend Kerrie, and then went to see "Juno". The movie made me cry. I walked home alone in the cold.

After taking a relaxing bath and watching a few YouTubes I faded off to sleep. I dreamt that I had been given two tickets to a taste tester event. Tall make-shift counters had been set up in a large warehouse dividing the huge space in half. On one side foreign cooks scurried about cooking unusual dishes designed for mature palettes and on the other side people swam through the grand open space debating which chef's cuisine they should consume.

I located a vacant space and handed over one of my Two-for-One Taster tickets to a woman with hair slicked back into a tight pony-tail. She didn't smile. She didn't say a word. She walked away and quickly returned to me with a piping hot casserole. I was terribly famished, so I quickly took a bite and burned my tongue. As I begged for a glass of water to squelch the pain a patron bumped into me and before I could respond I was shuffled into another space at the counter. I was relocated next to a precocious child. The little boy beamed with joy as he looked up at me. He tried to communicate with me, but I could barely understand his gibberish. Finally, I realized that he was too short to reach the counter, so I lifted him up onto a stool and I tried to get the cook's attention again. Then something rather strange happened. A tiny pig stepped into my food and oinked at me. The child squealed with delight and stroked the piglets back. Needless to say, I was shocked, mortified, and delighted all at the same time. I took the boy's lead and pet the pig's pink back. The pig nuzzled into me like a puppy and I was suddenly overwhelmed with remorse. This is where my lucid dreaming set in because I immediately recollected eating the polish sausage. How could I have eaten this little precious pig? As he stared up at me, his tiny hooves stuck with casserole and Grey Poupon, I screamed, "Is this some sort of sick joke?" The child giggled at what appeared to be my silliness. No one else noticed my outburst. I looked into the sweet soulful innocent eyes of the pig and whispered, "I'm sorry. Your year is coming to an end my friend. The rat is coming."

Car Wash

My anxiety is through the roof right now. My fingers are numb and I feel like someone poured battery acid down my throat. I want to go home and hide under my covers.

This morning I dreamt that I was waiting in a large old home. The back of the house had been turned into a professional car wash. I walked through bizarre rooms trying to pass time while my soapy car slid between the scrubbing brushes. I worried whether I had closed my windows or not. I wrung my hands and avoided conversations with strangers. The way I was acting made it appear as if I had lost my mind.

I was separated from my vehicle, but it felt more like I was separated from my body. I wanted to be back in my body. I wanted to feel safe. Instead, I felt like a coward. I just felt like the world around me was cold and unforgiving.

It is obvious that these frightened feelings have yet to pass. I will do my best to wade through them because sooner or later this car wash must end.

L.A. View

At the risk of stating the obvious, Los Angeles is a huge city. This past weekend I enjoyed the view of this great city from hilltops. These treks helped me realize that my problems are so small in comparison to the rest of the world. I am blessed with these legs and this vision that can take me to great heights metaphorically and literally. I am a strong and real woman. I need to go for the best that life has to offer. Even when I am sad, happiness is still beating somewhere in my heart. I need to recognize this gem I possess.

Sleeper Thief

Last night I dreamt that my mother was screaming at me over a decision that I made recently. Her disappointment was strong and salty. I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep. That rage and sickness would not leave my belly. I tossed and turned and my entire body ached. I drank water. I peed. I ate pretzels at 4:30 am. I put ear plugs in my ears. I wrapped my legs and arms around my pillow in an effort to harness my anxiety. My room was cold and the rain was loud. The moisture crept into my bones and I lay there soaking in my own confusion.

Deliverance

Up the stairs we walked hand in hand. When we reached the top the world was illuminated. We enjoyed the gorgeous view of the deep blue ocean sparkling at sunset, smelled the salty air, and listened to the seagulls squawking overhead. I turned to you and you smiled with your lips and eyes. I shined back.

I woke up this morning with my tummy twisted in knots like a baby just birthed from her mother. This is my deliverance into the unknown.

Brotha', It's Raining!

"It's raining cats and dogs" turned into "It's raining hippos and elephants" this morning at approximately 4:30am above my apartment. It was so loud that I wondered if a hole in the ceiling had formed and my bedroom was about to be flooded. This concern is not too far off of the mark since in 2005 this very incidence occurred at said residence in the livingroom. (My couch finally got cleaned the natural way.)

Like I was saying, it was an extreme cacophony and one thing lead to another and I woke up and could not fall back asleep for a good half hour. The memory of my dream last night was drowned out by the rain. What remnants I could tie together seemed to revolve around the concept of brothers. I have a biological brother, a brother-in-law and friends I call "brother". Brothers have long been a symbol of courage and protection in my dreams and in real life. Lately, I have been feeling fearful of my future, so I am hoping that my dream was a omen that I will soon find the courage to move forward.

Gut of Ugly

I woke up this morning feeling deeply wounded by myself. Much like yesterday I felt like I was strapped to my bed and destined to be supine for the rest of my life, evenso I rose and staggered to work. I am very depressed. I am tired of being tired.

Last night I found myself in the gut of ugly. A few homes up from my parent's house I found myself on the other side of the rod-iron gate. I looked at the mustard painted stucco buildings that lurched around me with a look of utter disgust. The owner had traded in his lush green lawn for cement and a couple two-story nightmares. Apparently, he was a Catholic priest prone to offering up his home to financially unfortunate believers.

The extra haphazardly built dwellings I coined in my mind as the "Buildings of Bedrooms". The ceiling heights were arbitrary, rather than legal and safe. I shuttered to think about what it would be like to be in one of those "rooms" breathing in the musky stench of lead-paint, crawling on dirty moist shag carpeting, and sleeping between unwashed daisy sheets.

The gray clouds formed above our heads, lightning struck and large droplets of rain shot my scalp with ice cold reminders of how devastating homelessness can be. To live without shelter leaves one vulnerable to discomfort.

I know that I am not homeless, but sometimes I feel vulnerable like that. Sometimes the ceilings are low and everything around me is dirty and I want to scream.

My Psyche in a Straight-jacket

I could have slept this entire day away in a red cocoon. My dreams acted like a straight-jacket on my psyche. They pretended to be drawing me awake as they asked me real questions. Just as I would be upon a concrete solution to my woes my phone would vibrate on my filing cabinet/nightstand as if summoning me from this perilous purgatory that I dwell in awake and asleep. These two worlds that I simultaneously live in are not that different anymore.

Back to the Daily Grind

Sitting at my desk staring at two days worth of work on my computer is a far cry from living it up in the countryside drinking wine, bike riding, eating decadent food and sharing time with my beloved...

Mom, I saw you in my dream last night. You were asking me so many questions. There, like a painted sign, you asked me the most constant question, "Where are you going, Paloma?".

"I am going inside Mom where no one can hurt me."

MLK Day

I experienced another morning of silent stretches and traction in the dark while Anthony slept. When he awoke we cleaned out our room and made our way to the coffee and danishes again. Can you say "Groundhog's Day"?

We drove to Buttonwood and Ridau to pick up our delicious wine and then watched the gorgeous countryside as we drove home listening to The Beattles and Badly Drawn Boy. We stopped off for a tasty sushi lunch and walked out feeling satiated and ready to be pampered. We eventually made our way to the Burbank Spa and lavished in the sauna, drank tea, and enjoyed a couple's one hour massage. All that relaxation definitely soothed our bike-riding muscles.

What a brilliant and perfect weekend!

Drinking in the Countryside

I woke up around 8:00 am and quietly did my traction and stretches whilst letting Anthony sleep in a little longer. When he woke up we went out for coffee and danishes and strolled through town a bit more. In the center of Solvang we rented bicycles. We hopped on the bikes and rode to one of my favorite wineries of which I am a member called "Buttonwood". We enjoyed my Imbiber's Club tasting lounging in the garden and set aside the wines I would purchase and pick up the following day sanz bike. As luck would have it, I also had the pleasure of cuddling a rambuncious puppy that lives at Buttonwood. When enough fun had been had there Anthony and I continued on our trail. Anthony popped wheelies and made friends with a couple horses along the way until we reached Rideau Winery. We set our bikes aside and drank in the New Orlean's vibe of Rideau whilst enjoying swanky wines. There too we set aside wines to purchase the following day. We then bicyled to Los Olivos and had a relaxing lunch. I enjoyed ravioli stuffed with squash and Anthony ate a fancy turkey burger. After fueling up we glided back to town riding high on a magnificent day spent drinking in the countryside.

Two Year Anniversary

Anthony and I drove up to Solvang today to celebrate our Two Year Anniversary. The weather was perfect: cool, crisp and clear. When we entered our hotel room I was grateful to discover a gorgeous bouquet of a dozen fiery long-stemmed roses waiting for me with love from Anthony. I admired them and then we quickly settled in and dashed out to the wine tasting rooms scattered throughout the town. We went to three wine tasting rooms, namely Presidio, Royal Oaks and Honeywood, and bought a couple bottles of wine. We returned to our room to relax for a bit with each other. Anthony leaned over to me with a tiny black velvet box. I opened it to find my promise ring replete with my birthstone perodot and diamonds. It was beautiful and I quickly thanked Anthony and slipped the ring onto my ring finger. Shortly thereafter we journeyed to The Red Barn for dinner with one of the bottles of wine we procured earlier in the day. We ate a delicious meal and returned to our room satisfied with a wonderful anniversary filled with love, romance and generosity.

Quote of the Day: "That was a shit load of alcohol for a body my small!"

Turbo

The happy puppy face of Turbo lit up my dream last night. Turbo is my parent's dog that my ex-boyfriend kindly introduced to them. Turbo is quite possibly the most gentle and loving being I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He may not be the brightest bulb, nevertheless he oozes the two "L's": love and loyalty. The minute you lay eyes on him he is hopelessly devoted to you. At least, that is how he makes me feel. Anyway, there he was staring up at me in my dream with those sweet pure loving brown eyes and I felt a great deal of familial love. After awhile I looked beyond him I saw several other people I know and love staring at me the way he does. It was as if the whole world had fallen in love with me. I felt like I was about to explode with happiness. This "Staring Love-Fest" seemed to last an eternity and when I finally woke up in the dark early morning I missed those eyes staring back at me.

Bicycle Dreams

If the darkness could pedal me to sleep
If your breath could heat my cold nose
That would be something

If it is all here draped in the twists and turns of my brain matter why can't I retrieve it for you?

Everything meant something in those hours that I lay with my eyes closed
I wanted to hold you close to me until the numbness got to be too much
And so I did

I held my heart out to you as it pumped away
Asking you to stay here in the darkness pedalling me to sleep

Empty Notebook

The feverish faces that blipped in and out of my focus were extremely alarming. They each interrogated me about my aspirations for the future. I failed to speak. The voices became louder and louder and reached a crescendo that took my hearing away. I stood there staring not speaking nor hearing their words, nevertheless my anxiety was heightened by the spit that shot from their mouths and the sweat that flung from their brows. I tried to close my eyes, but they were there right behind my eyelids taunting me with incongruous facial gestures. My body began to crumple inward and if I had had a tail it would have curled between my legs. Then my body began to shake and I felt like breaking down and crying, but I couldn't. What I was feeling was too heavy for my tear ducts. It was a lifetime of not knowing my purpose. It was too many unanswered questions and indecisiveness. I was just an empty notebook gathering dust on my desk.

Cheek

The lights have been turned down and my pillows surround me. I close my eyes and stare at the back of my eyelids. I smell my lavender musk lotion sinking into my skin and drift into my dreamland... I feel a soft cheek next to mine and wonder who it must be. It is not romance per se, rather a sweet brush with sensuality. The sensory organs on my face perk up and sizzle... I wake up and all I can recall is that cheek. I touch my own and it is soft and smooth and I wonder for a moment if people I know have ever let their eyes wonder above my smile and thought about them.

Somewhere for Me

I found her walking fast on the side of road. I sensed her mad determination and decided to follow her at her own pace until I could catch up. Once I did, I tapped her on her shoulder and inquired why she was in such a rush. She responded, almost out of breath, that her car was in the shop and she needed to pick it up before work. Time was running out for her, so I offered to give her a ride there, but once she got in my car she lost all sense of direction and only succeeded in getting us both lost. I drove slowly down the boulevard yanking my head right to left, right to left. We came to a T in the road and she got out of the vehicle without saying a word. I was oddly shocked by this turn of events and opted to park my car right there at the T and follow her. A crowd slowly formed and swallowed her and I lost my drive to continue on. I turned around and stared at my car that stood amidst the traffic motionless. Then I pondered my own body standing there not moving centered amongst a deluge of people criss-crossing my path.

My car and my body had lost their drive and direction.

I woke up and recognized how utterly frightening and poignant that dream was because it reminded me of how stagnant and indecisive I allow myself to be sometimes. Am I standing here waiting for people I barely know to inspire me to move for them? Am I simply offering myself up to make other people's live less difficult even it means that I forget my very own aspirations in the process? I cannot blame others for my misguidence. If I am lost I can only owe that circumstance to the prior choices I've made. I guess what this means is I need to get back in my car and go somewhere for me.

A Free Spirit

A free spirit dancing into your view
teaching you something about yourself
in defense of the deep blue
skies and ocean reflecting back and forth

Maturity is the light at the end of tunnel
it is evidence of time spent well

Thank you to the stars and the moon
for helping me sleep
Thank you to the sun
for waking me from my slumbers

A free spirit dancing into your view
teaching you something about yourself
in defense of the deep blue
skies and ocean reflecting back and forth

Booze, Donuts and Coyotes

Last night I spent the night at my parent's house after ringing in my mom's 60th with Carcassonne, some red alcoholic concoction my dad created , and "3:10 to Yuma". It was fun, but alcohol seems to reap the opposite effect on me by keeping me awake and giving me super human hearing. As if all the stars were were aligned and had a hankering to play practical jokes on me I kept being awoken by some genius kid doing about twenty or so donuts in the street by their house. All I could hear was the car excellerating and the aforementioned screaching breaks over and over again. I could "almost" smell the burning rubber. Freak! When I finally did fall asleep because the nut job decided to go do donuts elsewhere or score some speed or something, I was awoken again by another annoyance. Bring in the coyote pack! Those canines howled like they had been boozing it up at some local bar until closing and had to walk home. Up and down the street they sauntered whilst serenading the neighborhood. I'd say they did this for approximately a half hour or so. To add to all this unwanted noise, I froze. I shivered the night away as I dreamed in fragments shaped like icicles.

Moving On

On a cold January day I dragged my furniture into a new home. My roommate and I had decided that our rent was too high and we needed to live in a less expensive dwelling. We gave up our pedestrian friendly neighborhood for an enormous rundown apartment in an industrial zone. It was rather ugly and the carpeting was a mess. The ceilings were high.

After finally settling in I took a deep breath and sighed. The gravity of the decision we had made started to sink in.

My mom knocked on my bedroom door and I let her in. She stared up at the ceiling and down at the stained blue carpet and then looked me in the eyes questioning, "Are you sure that you made the right choice?" I dropped my head to the ground as if I had done something terribly wrong. Was it wrong for me to move on? I was having a tough time grappling with the choice I made. It was not long before I realized that I was unhappy with the new old place. This is when I realized that I was dreaming. This lucidity brought a slow moving smile to my face and I woke up smiling.

***

Sixty years ago to this day a miraculous thing happened: my beautiful mom was born. Happy 60th Birthday, Mom!!! I love you with all my heart.

Behind the Fish Bowl

Behind the fish bowl
Inside, the incandescent lamp lights my skin yellow
My hands musically move from one key to the next
Swimming in the realm of communicaton
Splashing between technical and artful
Lingering in a waiting pool
Behind the fish bowl

Irritating Incidences

Last night my dreams were filled with irritating situations.

The first incidence was centered around my bed. I was barely able to move from exhaustion and had crawled into bed with my boyfriend when I was met with an awkward situation. A woman I used to house-sit for lifted the covers near me and nudged me so she could sleep in the bed with us. I was too tired to yell at her when suddenly I discovered that my boyfriend was completely nude. My tolerance hit an all time low. I scooted her out of the bed and her body landed with a thud on the floor. She took the fall in stride by brushing herself off and walking to the living room.

I tried to fall asleep, but I felt violated. To increase my discomfort I heard a great deal of commotion from the bathroom. I reluctantly left my comfy bed to investigate. I was two feet away from the door when it abruptly opened and twenty strangers started streaming out. They seemed to be four generations of a Baptist family. They were holding Bibles in their hands and humming hymns. I stood dumbfounded staring at them until they vacated my apartment.

In both these incidences I felt like my private quiet places were being intruded upon by unwanted guests. Through the past couple years I have become less and less of a social butterfly and have deeply found comfort and solitude being alone or with a selected few. Perhaps this dream is an annoying reminder of how reclusive I have become. I don't believe that very many people would be comfortable with just anybody getting into bed with them or random strangers holding a religious family reunion in their bathroom, but these are dream excerpts. My dreams exaggerate my most dreaded fears and discomforts so that I may look at them up close and face them once and for all.

Memory Smashing

This morning I awoke to Smashing Pumpkins on the radio and it smashed my ability to recollect my dreams last night. I normally wake up to my cellular phone vibrating or ringing. The words in my head are not replaced, rather I reinforce them. I recapture my dreams the moment I awaken like writing down notes at a lecture.

Today I will not be exploring my dreams, rather I will be existing fully in this realm. Perhaps this is the safest route since my past three dreams have been rather haunting and I am dire need of a break from rape, Hell, and adultery.

What I am digging lately in music is "Feist", "Spoon", and "Yo La Tenga". I need to get to Amoeba. The dancer in me is coming back. All the stretching and traction are helping me reacquaint myself with my limbs and rapidly beating heart. I am a bird again flapping my wings and soaring through the air. I am laughing again, too. It feels great. Deep down inside I am just a silly little girl who wants to play. Deep down inside all I need is love and Belgium chocolate pudding from Trader Joe's.

No Turning Back

I was working too much, so we had an understanding. He could surround himself with women to stroke his ego when I was too busy to do it myself. I thought I was a liberal and free woman when I left him in the bedroom I was born in with two silly girls. They were watching some lame show I didn't feel like watching, so I walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

There were adults and children chatting and playing when I arrived. I sat down in a chair and two ladies sat down beside me and struck up a conversation. They were sisters. One was a lesbian and the other was bisexual. I'm straight. They told me how pretty they thought my hair was. I started to feel uncomfortable, so they changed the subject to their childhoods. Apparently, their father was a zookeeper, so they both grew up in a zoo. The sisters vividly described the animals they considered family and I could see those animals bowing before me with each introduction. After awhile I tired of their stories and started thinking of my boyfriend.

I got up and walked back down the hallway. One of the girls was chatting with someone outside the bedroom and the door was closed. I heard giggling within. Jealousy began to burn within me.

I opened the door white-knuckled. The room smelled of marijuana and sweat. The first thing I saw was clothing on the floor and then the two of them cuddled up in my bed. I ripped the stringy blond girl out of the bed and threw her out the door and looked down at my boyfriend and screamed, "Get out!" The blanket was up to his chin and he was smiling at the ceiling and giggling. I shook him and started crying. My stomach started to twist in knots and I started vometing all over myself and him. I couldn't stop. The more angry and sad I became the worse it got. I tried to calm myself with the notion that I would be free and not attached to anyone again. I started making plans in my head of what it would be like to be alone, but it didn't help because all I have ever really wanted is to have my own family. I sat at the edge of the bed hunched over and tried wiping the vomet from my lips. My eyes were raw with salt. The damage had been done and there was no turning back.

Persephone, I Located Hell

The gateway to Hell is in an industrial wearhouse. I found it last night in my dream.

It was pouring rain outside and the city lights went out, so I crept into what seemed to be an abandoned building for shelter and warmth. My teeth chattered and my stringy wet hair clung to my face. I walked through the building by the light of the moon that shown brightly through the raindrops and caged windows twenty feet above me. I heard music off in the distance and followed the sound hoping that it signaled a warm place to dry up.

Along my path intricate macabre objects like bones and clumps of hair started to multiply. Velvet blood red and dark purple furniture narrowed my walkway. The music grew louder and the words became more and more difficult to decipher. I walked closer calculating each step as curiosity and chills pulled me in. I met two large black studded wooden doors at the end of my path. I stared at the doors contemplating whether I should knock when I suddenly felt two icy fingertips on my right shoulder. I turned to my right and stared at an extremely pale, tall, and slender man who smelled like a combination of rain and campfire smoke. His hair was raven black and so were his gentle eyes. As I looked at him he warned me not to go beyond the "gates".

He looked simultaneously young and freshly dead. I scrutinized his features discovering layers of his persona unfolding like a onion. I trusted his advice even as I noticed a smudge of blood on his cheekbone. I looked at that smudge until I fell into it and before I knew it I was in Hell. The "gate" meant nothing. The "gate" was a facade created to trick the world into believing Hell was formal and trying to make a destinction between the world and itself. Hell was warm and made of dirt and smelled like rain, campfires, and jasmine. The gardner in me wanted to stay. I figured it is raining and cold outside, so why don't I stay until Spring like Persephone. During Spring I can burst back through the earth in the form of a beautiful vibrant flower and then stare lovingly at the clear blue sky.

The Empty Storm

It had been a long time since I had last spoken with my friend. She was living far enough away that it was difficult to visit her, but not impossible. Something struck me, so I decided to phone her and invite myself over to her house. Her voice sounded weak and sad. I immediately asked her what was wrong and she tried to gloss over her feelings with false affirmations of wellness. She also adamently instructed me to not come over. I took this as her ploy to have me come to her rescue. My intuition was exactly on target. When I arrived at her home almost all her furniture was gone and I found her huddled in a corner crying.

I ran over to her and put my arm around her begging her tell me what happened. She sobbed and confessed that her husband had raped her multiple times and left her and their two children to fend for themselves. She explained all the ugly details so vividly that I pictured the awful situtation perfectly. I was shocked and saddened and furious.

It was late at night and I had left for my friend's house in such a rush that my boyfriend sick with worry followed me. After my friend admitted her tragedy and confessed that she was exhausted and needed to sleep, we heard a knock on the door. When I opened the door Anthony picked me up in his arms and squeezed me tightly with relief.

She looked at us and out the door at the pouring rain. Her shoulders slumped forward and she offered the livingroom for us to sleep in. We slept on a narrow table as the rain leaked through the roof and onto our faces. We held each other closely and listened to the thunder, howling wind, and the rain pelting the roof and the floor. Thinking of how cold and frightening the world can be at times, I looked down at Anthony's hands and wove my fingers through his and felt grateful for him.

Fire Grapes

Trying to connect to someone or something I found myself in an Artist Colony resting in Italian rolling hills. Anthony and I had broken up months prior and I was lonely and searching for a way out of my disconnection to my romantic yearnings.

I met a fast talking wiley blond-haried blue-eyed man looking to make a false connection. He was an actor of the worst variety. He was the kind of man who mistook method acting as "love". He tried to woo me with his "techniques". I was bored, so I decided to pretend with him. I let him call me girlfriend even though he kissed other ladies and complimented them on their hair and eyelashes. I didn't want to kiss him, so they took that nasty job off of my lips.

I wandered through the gardens and orchards contemplating my loss of faith in the world. Cynicism had built a gorgeous castle in my heart.

I looked up to find the only love I had left. There stood beautiful grapevines draping themselves over a stone wall. They burned red on the outside and yellow on the inside.

Yellow-bellied.

I tugged the grapes off of the vines and devoured them. The sweet nector dripping down my dry throat. A lady snuck up behind and whispered in my ear, "Those are evil grapes! They are born in the belly of Hell. That is why they burn with the color of fire."

I scoffed at her and danced with my gluttony.

She ripped the grapes off of the wall and squashed them in her hands with a wicked smile on her face. She tried to regale me further with her propaganda.

My belly grew full hovering mid-air with my grape high and I stared past the silly woman into the distance. The meadows out there sparkled a brilliant chartreuse and tears burst forth from my eyes. I peacefully surrendered myself and smiled widely.

Long-legged Baby

I was travelling. I was a mom, an aunt or a sister to a long-legged baby. Excited to be going somewhere, but burdened with the duty of caregiver I rushed through traffic with a baby in a stroller. I could read the baby's thoughts. He was as surly as a cab driver, but his outer appearance gave him just enough sweetness to soften his sarcastic blows. His eyes drilled words in my head "I can walk, Lady" and later, "...but I don't feel like it". His legs began to grow and poke out of his stroller long and lean. I could hear planes flying overhead. He looked like someone who could be smothered. I faught the urge to yell, "Walk, damnit!" I faught the urge and something miraculous happened. He crawled out of his stroller and began strutting around looking left and right and smiling a toothless grin. I smiled back. I held out my clammy hand and he took it. His little soft fingers curled through mine and I understand at that moment that he was my flesh and blood. He was part of me. The syncopation of our heart beats led us to the starting gates. I handed the checkers our ticket, smiled down at him and saw a burst of white light. The sun had met her son.

Blue Faces

No matter how exhausted I get, sleeping has been difficult for me lately. My December cold seems to have transformed into a sinus infection replete with congestion and headaches. In addition, my stomach grumbles with intermittant agitation. Food is losing its allure, evenso I eat because I know I must.

Stressful emotions are growing at my core and causing chilling dreams filled with beautiful blue faces. I look at these faces and try deperately to center myself in the white noise of the heater. I want to release what ails me and watch those facades light up with happiness. They are there waiting for me when I close my eyes. They wait for me to speak, whilst they remain speechless. I want them to offer me some advice. I need them to break the silence and soothe my aching body. They don't. They just stare at me looking confused, bored and wantonly.

My alarm goes off. It speaks in vibrations. It tells me to wake up and fill my day with something to be proud of. I stare at it rattling and lighting up. I look at it closely and my face lights up blue.

2008 - Day 2

I want to let you tag along for a replay of my dreams last night, alas I have very little to charm you with.

I awoke early this morning to do my traction and back stretches before work. I lay there trying to calm my frantic heart. I have so many goals that I want to accomplish this year that I feel like my mind is doing constant back flips. It is all about prioritizing. Each day I must take into consideration my aspirations and use my time wisely. Maintaining this blog daily is one of those listed - my resolution to write every day, so that once a month I have work to submit to writing contests and publishing companies.

I hope to have an intriguing dream to share with you tomorrow...

Resolutions for 2008

Approximately 3:00 am PST I laid my head down on January 1, 2008 to dream. The sweet hum of the heater lulled me to sleep.

I was behind the wheel moving towards an unknown destination following the rules of the road that were clear and free...

I believe 2008 will be a year of dedication and openess for me. My ambitions are finally floating to the surface and into view. This year I will be turning thirty in August. This year I have made the longest New Year's Resolutions list I have ever made and I am ready to tackle it with perserverance and courage. I welcome this challenge I laid out for myself.

Today is a perfect day to start fresh with a calm and open heart. Today I start accomplishing my dreams.