Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 2/22/2021
By Fitful
I jump in a strangers truck randomly. He's like a milkman, an open door vehicle like a post man and the truck has that bubble over the engine like you see in old 50s cars. But its a mini Mac truck. I convince him to take me to the city to see a play. He refuses as I'm a child and he's a stranger. I tell him he knows my mother and he calms down and takes me. The truck is white as milk and pristine, in perfect condition. Like those music videos you see of 50s suburbia, all pastels and idyllic restoration ~ Laura has two daughters. They are aged up, 8 and 12 maybe. 7 and 11? They associate me with ... A minder they trust but also a buddy. So possibly a nanny situation. Either way they have heard from me a thousand times a story about my Aunt, or just all about my aunt Steva. We are in this big auditorium and their mother is barely paying attention. Seated in a different row from them. This auditorium is packed. Every seat is full. I am standing in my way to sit down. I feel i haven't seen them in a while. I wave, eager to say hello but also hesitant, maybe they forgot me. Suddenly they get up, shock in their faces and move wonderingly to the aisle. I look and its my Aunt Steva, for the first time in 14 years she came to see me. They rush out their row, hug me briefly but rush to hug her crying. They are so happy to see her, but happy for me, happy she finally came to see me. They can't control their crying. Its a beautiful imagine. They are dark, darker skin than their mother actually. My aunt Steva is so light and pale, I forgot how creamy her skin colour was. The contrast is stark and the emotions beautiful. Being that happy for me, genuinely, because I can't be myself. Being an adult must make you half numb. Anyway their mother has no idea what's going on or why they are crying and making a scene. I simplify it to mouth 'they are happy' to her and other aghast onlookers, of which there are many. They seem disapproving but children don't care. Children are free. ~ There's a scene with a hunter stalking toddlers to eat in libraries and playgrounds and all through the normal suburban city. Its animalistic and doesn't seem to care about right or wrong. Just a simple feed. Simultaneously I am minding my pets, caring for them, and battling a familiar authority telling me I can't have them or tell this story right or do anything. I am treated as a child, barely functioning. I fumble with the red ribbons that hold onto my pets. I struggle to feed them. The carrots my dog wants and loves are all decayed inside. Not like real carrots react but mold growing in the inside and its worse the longer they are left out. ~ I hear a voice telling me about fear. Anticipations of fear move you closer to the thing, why do that?