I had a weird dream last night, weird because it was even more out there than my usual dreams.
In my dream there was Boromir (or was it Ned Stark?) with a huge, luxurious, dark brown fur cape. Long hair flowing in the wind and . . . Nothing else. Yep, that’s right he was completely and absolutely naked. That is not all, he had a very, very, very small penis.
I remember thinking that such a penis didn’t belong to such a man . . . Then I woke up.
I feel the fear grip me. I feel the cold flow and bubble up and down my spinal cord. My spinal fluid burns like ice.
Crawling inch by inch like an army of frozen insects underneath the surface of my skin.
I wrap myself in a blanket. I sit under the sun at the window.
Nothing. The cold invades me from the inside out.
I start to tremble violently, the spasms shake my body and I start to cry.
I can’t breathe!
The cold, like a frozen beastly bite grabs at my stomach and I fall to the floor.
I throw up in pain.
The cold, stinking and foul creeps up my throat and out of my mouth.
Sharp, red unforgiving ice spills on the floor.
When I was a little girl I dreamed of Neverland, I dreamed that Peter Pan would come through my bedroom window and take me flying to a far and beautiful magic land. I nurtured this dream, I hope for it, I wished for it but, of course, it never came true. Peter Pan never came for me to take me away from my, then perceived to be, most ordinary and boring childhood. I grew up.
I grew up and I took myself to Neverland, I flew there with a newly made set of wings, conquered all lands, defeated pirates and ticking crocodiles and all.
After growing up, after wings and pirates I find myself dreaming of Neverland again. Dreaming of Peter Pan to come and take me away, wishing for it, hoping for it. But I know he won’t come and I will have to fashion myself a new set of wings, this time with a rechargeable solar motor.
Give me wings so I can fly,
Give me dreams to dream.
As I go through life to the inevitable end let me dream and never lose hope.
As I face everyday give me strength.
I will build my wings and I will reach my Neverland.
And I shall bring down all the Peter Pans who made us believe we could not fly alone.
It seems like an eternity ago when I walked into my first college class, I remember the smells, and the sounds, and the quality of the light. . . I also remember old classmates, one in particular, Alex.
I can’t remember how we became friends since we really had no classes in common, I do remember we had a fall out and after a while we lost contact and never saw each other again.
Last night I had a dream about him, rated PG not to worry, that is to say I do not remember anything except him talking and smiling at me. For some reason my dead grandparents were in the dream too.
I dreamed a dream of a blue bird, I dream a dream of my grandmother’s death.
My grandmother who is dead, my grandmother who is gone, my grandmother who was the blue bird.
A blue bird with long tail feathers, a blue bird with a red beak, a blue bird who looked at me and said: – Don’t sell the house! –
My father will sell the house.