Unnecessarily

For two nights now my dreams have held loaded moral lessons.  The dream I just had, I'm not going to explain it as fully as I usually do because it involves too many personal aspects, but I can talk about certain points and its overall significance.

At a much earlier point in the dream, I am trying to show off a bit to my mom and one of her old friends (who had just happened to drop in).  A cat follows me down the stairs and into the streets outside, but I figure she will be fine because there are other cats out there (though I'm still worried; I don't stop her because I feel like I can't).  There are round, squishy fruits on the city sidewalk (which kind of fades away to a country house front with other thatched and slightly primitive houses as neighbors when suddenly I remember that she lives there and not in the city - neither of these situations is real life, by the way) and my trick is to balance on them.  I had already tried when no one was really looking and the fruit squished out of shape and I fell a little.  I reshaped the fruit into a perfect sphere while waiting for my "audience," and then mounted it again.  It broke in half, revealing the fruit inside (which reminds me of an orange, but I believe the outside was green).  They hadn't been paying that much attention anyway.


Later, the dream begins to reflect the last I had (the one I posted) much more clearly.  I get a call from someone who is being unnecessarily bitchy to someone I am with in a car just because he forgot to stop by and feed someone else's dog earlier in the day.  It doesn't satisfy that we are right there in the neighborhood and it would be nothing to stop by then, it is enough to rail him because one, he forgot, and two, he didn't do it at a specific time.

Sitting in the backseat I think about this, and while I'm really annoyed that I'm the one who has to listen to this on the phone and that she's this upset, I start to see her deeper point.  He wasn't responsible enough to write a note to remind himself even though he's forgetful.  He clearly didn't listen to her.

[Somewhere in this timeframe, "Jordan" (it's one of those times where he's in someone else's body; I might have been, too, but I never saw myself) and I have made a malatov cocktail.  For some reason, the top of it has to be lit a little before it is lit properly.  So the top of this little canister (which looks like the short red things we use to store linseed oil in the studio) is glowing frighteningly red, and I'm terrified it's going to reach the liquid and explode.  Jordan at first has it held precariously next to a closed window, fixing to light it for real, and throw it outside at random, but he never does, so I'm stuck holding a glowing malatov cocktail.]

Now I become unnecessarily bitchy (and not because of the m.c., although I get to use it for verbal ammo).  Jordan keeps taking it, but I am giving him and everyone else thorough hell like never before.  We walk into some little studio (it looks like a kindergarten classroom for adults) that is teaching art classes.  After a few people almost hit me with their glue guns, a guy sneeringly asks that I warn the person working when I'm looking so they don't hit me, and I coolly and easily respond, "Nah, that's okay, I'm not that interested in looking at this stuff," as though I'm so important.  I've also apparently been given a tour here before which is readily available to my dream memory (and verifiable by a computer that keeps screwing up), so when the head guy (who is Rainn Wilson - no, I'm not kidding) continues to try to explain things to me with exasperation, I continue to cut him off with some snide comment about how I already know it and have heard it and really don't care since it's a crappy place anyway.  I turn away from him and someone else tells me I should be nicer to him and I either think or say, "It's okay, it's Dwight Schrute," despite knowing he's not really that at the moment.

At this time, Jordan and a little kid who has been with us come in from outside a little frazzled and blackened.  I don't know if they tell me, or the voice in my head tells me, or if someone else tells me, but they tried to diffuse the malatov cocktail like I sent them to do (it was making me nervous walking around holding it) and it blew up, like I had the feeling it would do.  Instead of being happy they were alive and mostly okay with all their limbs, I start bitching.

This story ends with Jordan finally having enough and breaking it off with me.  I take off my ring and find him hidden behind a table, and give it to him, taking his place behind the table looking out from behind some oddly placed curtains.  Before I wake up and as I look at him, I think about how bitchy I was, and how I shouldn't have gotten caught up in ridiculous expectations.  I want him back, but I'm afraid it would never change and that he'll never take me back anyway.

Coincidentally, I actually woke up to the fire alarm, which was pretty funny seeing as to how a malatov cocktail had just accidentally blown up in my dream.


So I actually told way more than I intended, but then again I'm known to get caught up in gratuitous details.  I wonder if it's clear to you how these two dreams are linked, and it makes me curious as to whether or not tonight will bring another of these dreams.  It's certainly not the first time I've had a series of moral dreams all pertaining to the same theme.

I understand them, appropriately since they're dreams, in a way I can't really begin to explain.  All I can say for you is, if you have even read this far, don't be so harsh on those you love the most.  You'll find yourself loving you more than them, using them as a scapegoat, and even believing that they're doing most of the negative things, when really, your expectations are ungodly (or rather, too godly and untouchable).  RuPaul might say, "If you can't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?" but if you never take the time out of loving yourself to love that other person, how are you going to keep them, make them feel loved or even be happy at all?