"You have to pass away from what has failed you into what can sustain you. Otherwise ~ there is no hope."
~ Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat
I can tell that I haven't been doing my morning pages (or as I just typed, mourning pages) lately. I don't really know why I stopped doing them this time around. I may as well have my say here, eh? That's what the damn thing is for, ain't it?
I feel as if something is changing inside despite not writing. Even my dreams are whacked at the moment. The previous entry started the whole thing, with all the horses ~ it pretty much represents my fear. Fear of rejection, mostly. Last night, two more dreams showed themselves. In the first one, C.M.'s step father took away my 'modem line' because I didn't complete a task list (clean the house; wash dishes, etc.) while he was gone. I didn't know he had been gone, let alone that there was a list. My computer is combined with my stereo ~ which I guard until C.M. arrives. When he does, I tell him what was going on and he sides with his step father. The 'modem line' disappears as well. AARRGGHH!!!
The second dream was interesting ~ I was at my aunt's old house on Epperson Springs Road, when a neighbor brings over some of his inventions. One is a flying machine that looks like a pogo stick, only that it has little 'wings' on the steps (think old ford thunderbird instead of airplane). I can't wait to try the thing but when I move out into the yard to try it, it disappears. I don't understand what happened until J.G. (who I used to have classes with) told me that the machine had 'become a part of me' and needed to be removed. He also said that he had to do the same thing with a knife once. There is an entire Native American ceremony for the removal of the flying machine ~ lots of drums, chanting and food. For some reason, I am to sit in front of a table and listen for the drums at which point I am to jump onto the table and walk through three plates of pork 'n' beans. (I never said that I had sane dreams) Several times, I hear one lone drum beat and wonder if that is my cue. However, when I try to get out of my chair, I can't. A Native lady sitting next to me says, "Oh look! Isn't it cute ~ the machine is becoming more of her!" It occurs to me that part of the ritual is to make me mad enough to 'throw' the machine out of my body but I wonder if I really want to do that.
All these dreams concern authority figures ~ ones inside my own head that are trying to keep me from 'flying' and evidently, 'communicating'. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about how this life of mine is supposed to be ~ who rules it, exactly? The quick answer is 'me'. The not so quick answer is that I haven't been living by my own Declaration lately. I have been paying more attention to the wishes of mother and father than my own. Even some hidden bits of religion have been creeping in as well ~ hence the step father and the Native ceremony to 'keep me from flying'.
I really want to fly. I really do.
Other things that I really want to do:
- Dye my hair blue ~ and not 'little old woman' blue either.
- Get a tattoo (or two)
- Live, damn it!
About this religion thing ~ I think the best thing for me right now is to chuck it all. I know that there is something greater out there ~ as well as within me but sometimes all the impositions are just too much. Even 'and if it harm none, do what thou wilt' seems to be too much. Granted, these are human impositions ~ we are good at putting words into the gods' mouths, aren't we?
After all, what if Heinlein's right? Thou art God. What if God just wants to experience life to the best of his/her ability? What if God just wants popcorn?
As I said before ~ this god just wants to fly. This god just wants to be happy...of course, I'll still call on Kokopelli every now and then to play his flute.
Page Copyright 2001 D. Firewolf
