The Dreams, The Dreams

It's happening again.  I keep dreaming of being pursued by murderers.  And it's not just me. The whole civilization is in danger.  Guns, cell phones, shit on everything.  Running, running, trying to escape and being so close to those who want to murder me.  School is over for the semester.  Maybe it's life that's freaking me out.  I've been breaking out in hives for weeks.  When I graduated college the first time I had itchy hives between my fingers.  

I dreamed about Ruta Lee

I don't know how but she was the star of Act One of  a dream which devolved to the usual setting.  House with inadequate doors.  Murderers trying to get in.  It was not my house.  There were a couple of young white actresses with no work but lovely clothes, and a sort of family of African American folks.  Thugs were trying to bang down the doors, which were security gates, so you could see through and around them. The young men inside were doing their best to hold off the bad guys.  I tried to play a video cassette because it had an old program on it that I'd saved which I thought would be of interest to the folks in the house.   But it got eaten by the machine. I tried to reel in the crunched tape but in the end it was torn.   I thought I could ask Bill to fix it until I realized I don't see Bill anymore.

The couple and I left for a kind of hiking outing but got lost in the park.  I asked a stranger for directions and that frightened the other two because we really couldn't trust anyone.  We fled to mother's  house.  I think she was Roseanne Barr.  And there the police came and told us all the bad guys had been captured.  But I was still frightened by the jeering girls outside who left us a message that could be seen from above.  They spelled out on the ground using rags or something the location of a woman involved. Police, who couldn't see the message, asked if we wanted her prosecuted too.  I said yes but the family admonished me to  be compassionate.    Later in the car, the African American wife asked me to do less.  I said I wanted to participate.  Too often I sit back and allow myself to be served.  I wanted to do more.  She told me I did too much, implying I create problems,  and I should hang back.

 THE END

Last night in class, my final project blog was a flop. I've deleted it.   But I got reminded of my mission for this blog and my life.  That is to move forward and stay positive.   Remember, attitude is a choice.  Feeling follows thought.