During much of this morning’s dream I was worming my way through the hallways and staircases of a vast series of interlocking, cliff-mounted structures. Sometimes I was alone, and sometimes hordes of other people crowded into the structures’ rooms, making it hard for me to move around. I was trying to get from one disc golf tee-box to another, but these were spaced far apart from one another and the layout of the place was confusing, causing me to climb many stairs and squeeze down many tunnels built into and through the homes of the people living there. Each time I threw my discs, they sailed out of view. Although I knew were they had landed, I had a difficult time figuring out how to get there through the maze of interlocking buildings.
At one point, I was standing at the top of a staircase conferring with some of the people judging the event (or who were at least doing something officious). Turning around, I found the stairs behind me so impossibly packed with people that my only recourse for descending to the floor below was to jump out over the side of the railing and hand-carry myself on the outside edges of the individual steps to the floor below. As I reached the bottom my legs brushed against the stockinged feet of a lass resting with two other women on a couch. She immediately stripped her socks off whilst giving me evil looks, to which I responded (as I was walking out a nearby door) by mocking her concern for her striped and colorful socks, saying something like “My legs aren’t that dirty.”
Later in the dream sequences, I was in an alpine city built onto level ground that was covered with a few inches of slushy snow. Despite the presence of frozen precipitation I knew the city was on Bali, the Island of the Gods, somewhere high up the side of one of its towering volcanoes. The city was party ruined, many of its sparsely-placed high-rise buildings damaged or collapsed, but its streets were packed with cars, buses, and people attending to business. Twice whilst in the city I stepped up into a burnt-out single-family home in which stood a representation of my deceased father, an older man with grey hair but strong arms and big hands who embraced me in a great hug and asked why I was groaning in pain and weeping loudly. (After the second time meeting the older man I indeed lay awake in bed crying, hugging myself about the chest, and basking in the memory of those who have died before me.) Falling back asleep, I found myself sitting in the slushy snow talking to a bypassing woman wearing a tan overcoat, who had stopped to admonish me to seek a drier place to sit lest I catch the sniffles.
The thick wool socks I was wearing, though they like the rest of me sat in mounds of cold wet, were nonetheless bone dry, which to my dream-consciousness seemed slightly odd.
[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]
When I was a teenager, in 1991 or ‘92, my parents had my siblings and me do the dishes each night after dinner. Two of us three kids would wash and dry everything by hand then put it all neatly away. Just before my sister and I had finishing the chore one night, our mother came in and spoke to us, pointing out that water had collected on the counter and in the sink. “When you’re finished,” she said, “leave so few traces that that not even Sherlock Holmes could figure out what had occurred here.” We wiped away the clues, leaving the area sparkling, and spotless.
Now, nearly thirty years later, I still do my best to stick by the logic related above. When I dirty a dish or pot, I clean it up immediately. When the dishes are dry, I put them away. Used laundry goes in one place, clean clothes in another. If something is out of place or damaged, it gets fixed or discarded. In this way, my work gets done while it is still small - before it becomes a burden.
With a glance at my living quarters, a trained detective could gather lots of information about my habits and proclivities. What he would not find, however, is that I am a messy person.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
blog updated Mon, Wed, & Fri
Among other things I am barber, bicyclist, surfer, vagabond, writer, and yogi.