Monday, 21 January 2013

Dreams and shit

Had a weird dream about my ex. I don't normally dream positive dreams with him in it, but I imagine it's been so long and I've had such a good life lately, that part of my brain has settled down. Normally he's there to avatar discomfort, emotional pollution, sense of worthlessness and a feeling of having to be ashamed of myself. He's the herald of negative stuff. Was. Those were the nightmares I've had after the divorce. Then for a very long time nothing on that front. Now a good dream. A very good dream, actually. There is either an unresolved psychological issue I'm dragging around, that I am not yet aware of (unrelated, but my brain likes to sent up red flags in the most blatant of ways.) or a premonition. My friend says a good dream is a good sign - a sign that part of me has almost entirely healed. I've asked if it can ever entirely heal and she said no, not entirely, but close enough is good enough. Also, it could have been a merge of little things. I saw his MHLF (MotherHe'dLikeToFuck) in the library and for the first time felt zero need to wait until she gets the frack out, as if a dirty look from her would ruin my whole day. Now I couldn't care less even if we reached for the same book. Second, watched Fugitive 2 and I commented to the General that I enjoy seeing the Newman character die in a pool of blood, as he was so young and innocent in the first movie and that was a turn on about a decade ago when the movies came out. General commented 'and also he looks like you ex'. I said no way, nothing like it. Then looked again. Holy shit. Identical! Same dumb wet blue eyes, same shapeless, plump nose, same odd mouth - same shock of curly mousy hair. Same too thin, too tall character. Scary. Talk about having my delusion goggles on! And yesterday General and I had sex over the stove (with pizza in the oven) and I burnt my hand a bit - something that oddly aroused me. (I mean the pain of burning my palm on the edge of the oven.) So the combination of those three could have produced a good dream about an ex. 
               I wonder if people like that ever stop haunting dreams. Or is that the appeal of dreams - the ever present danger of having our demons jump out on our pizza? I love my dreams as they are. I flatter myself it's how I am - complicated, fundamentally deranged and very imaginative. Very emotional. General is usually naked or dragging me out of a thick spin in them;(few night ago I dreamt I'm thoroughly enjoying being driven around an Iranian bazaar in a tiny car, in awe of all the buzz and crowd, whereas the poor husband spent the duration of the dream navigating the damn car through the crowd, going nuts over my navigational skills. My navigational skill rely deeply on my approval of scenery. Most of his questions in the manner of 'where are we?' are answered with 'dunno, but it's pretty'.      >.<