I find it rather peculiar the people from my past who decide to visit me in my dreams. I’m not sure if they would ever visit me in reality…perhaps it’s because I want to imagine them visiting me that they arrive late at night when I have turned off my logical mind.
One particular man visits me every month, every night for almost an entire week. Like the waxing and waning of the moon; it is like clockwork. Sometimes it’s sexual, sometimes it’s friendly; sometimes it just is. But it’s always him. Who? Oh, I bet you are begging to know, but no no. I assume he is a symbol for something, though I am no dream-analyst so I can only presume. I like to imagine that this man, who I met in high school, who possessed perfect cuts highlighting his pelvic region, is the symbol for my sensuality. And that after finally getting off of depo, sensuality and all the other s sounding words are returning to enliven my flesh with blushing bliss. But that is just one perspective.
Being on depo really fucked me up. Only a month after I quit getting the shot did I read in a non-fiction biology book that they give the same drug to sex offenders to keep their libidos under control—to keep them sterile, un-sexual, unsatisfied. Which in my opinion is fine, but WHY give that drug to healthy young vivacious woman— woman who want to play and explore, but don’t want a baby knocking at their door. I find that pure evil. Probably a government conspiracy, but I have no intentions to go there.
So anyway, I find it strange that this man visits me every month, but never talks to me in real life. How is he still in my subconscious? What kind of voodoo tricks did he sprinkle into my McCormick vodka and OJ back when we all partied in barns and cruised around “the Sonic” all day? I never thought he was smart enough to pull off witchcraft, but I could be mistaken.
This seems like a job for paranormal activity. I must decide if I want him to come back and if I do not I will need to enter my subconscious, I will need to have one of those dreams where I know I am dreaming and I will have to tell him to leave. This makes me sad. I am afraid if I make him go--away will go any amorousness I had gotten back. Why can’t any other man become the symbol, like Jake Gyllenhaal or a young Daniel Day-Lewis or some random combo man I create Weird Science style? Why does it have to be someone from my past? Someone, who if I saw in the future, I would probably rather slap and yell at him for entering my dreams without an invitation. Talk about bad manners. But, I suppose he isn’t aware of what he is doing. It’s funny to think of all the places you may be without ever actually being there. Maybe that’s why people wake up so tired sometimes, because they were on an adventure in someone else’s dream.
I wonder if I symbolize anything in anyone’s dreams? I hope if I do it’s something as glamorous as sensuality. But I’d be okay with it being confidence or feminine power or beauty or optimism.
I am positive this peculiarity of this particular being will be made clear presently… I just need to sleep on it.
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