When you're not like your mother.

Date: 3/2/2019

I was dreaming about this museum. I lived there, or I was stuck there, or suddenly I came to live there. Anyway my mom was there too. And it was huge miles and miles, ten city blocks. And it was a salon, they washed your hair, I assumed they did it up too but I only ever saw the washing stations. They looked like alien tubes coming into an alien head, which made up the sink where you put your hair for washing. The staff was numerous, in fact you only ever saw staff really. One guy was glued to my mom, he told her what to do, and she did it. He was assigned to her or obsessed or liked her, but I got the impression it wasn't like love or anything. It wasn't emotionally extreme, it was based on his emotional need to be in control, but it was like it was his job to order her. She listened so he was satisfied. But he didn't have traditional emotions, not the strong ones. I didn't listen. I stayed there cause I had no where else to go, and maybe I was a prisonor, but I asked questions constantly and asked to leave. I wanted to do things. I had a job, or wanted one, a specific job which felt important. It involved leaving. He cautioned me against it. It was clear he didn't want me leaving at all, and he wanted me to do as he said. One night I stayed up lying awake in the dark of my room playing with a child's toy. It made lots of noise and I'm sure disturbed people but I didn't care. It was fun. It was for babies, not something which should amuse so much or which I should be playing with really but I did and it felt good. The next morning I woke up tired at the last half of the day and I realized my days had moved, I was more up in the morning hours now and asleep more in the darker ones it annoyed me to see I'd changed so much. I was a night owl my whole life. The guy kept after me to do things according to the way of the museum/salon, his way. I didn't agree. We got into a sparring match with hair conditioner. He was in the showers and about a hundred feet away I was sitting on a bench past a wall. I couldn't even see him or passed the shower stall but he kept squirting hair conditioner over both his stall walls and the wall I was behind. I found something to retaliate with and it became a battle. It was fun, if a bit awkward as we both were naked behind our walls, or near to. I left once, got out in the middle of the night. It felt good to walk around the city once again. I walked my dog, she had a brown strap harness and a collar which he usually wore. The collar felt off for some reason and I had to put it back on but the buckle was in pieces. There was also a line to the museum and I worried how I'd get back in. I forgot which side entrance my mother told me was appropriate to use for those who loved there. But it turned out to be a non issue as the huge line of people which stretched down several blocks was gone in the doors instantly once they opened. The place really was huge as when I followed them in the place was a empty as it usually was, with only a few staff janitors and guards in the distance. I met the guy coming in and he told me where to go, asked where I'd been. I told him I'd been out, out and about, oot and aboot I made the words sound swedish or something. Then I skipped away. He stared after me and I could tell he wasn't approving. He didn't think I should ever leave. He wanted me to stay and be obedient like my mother, to be his. It was odd. ~ I vaguely recall a dream about some girl or woman who remembered something terrible, some terrible abuse her father had inflicked in the dark night.