Dreaming with butterflies

As I’m sitting in the sun a butterfly zips my way and hits me in the back of my head, it’s a surprisingly big thump for such a delicate light insect.

It is night and I am sitting in the sand, I hear the surf close by but I don’t see it. He is here too I can feel it, I don’t see his face but it is him I can feel his smile, although that doesn’t make any sense.

He is right here but I miss him so much it’s painful. He is standing right next to me but I still miss him. And then, there’s the butterfly, again.

A butterfly in the night.

Then I wake and it’s my cat begging for food.

The night out

I had a dream today about my friend Maria “la loca”, we were out partying like we used to do when I lived in Spain. And just today, after I woke up, she sent me a message when I hadn’t heard from her for a long time.

Couples 

As I sit drinking my hibiscus tea I see couples coming and going, enjoying their Sunday afternoon.

As I sit barefoot in my worned Target t-shirt and wrinkled cotton pants I inwardly cringe at them.

The cool guys with fedoras, slick hair and matching lumberjack beards. The beautiful girls with flowing long hair and oh so fashionable boutique clothing and designer sandals.

When did this happened? I wonder. When did my relaxed no-give-a-shit town turn I to this pasarela?

But then, it’s not really my town; and this people have always existed here, there and everywhere; and really I’m being judgemental.

They made me want to not shower, and wear last year’s fashion – wrinkled – , and dye my hair purple and come in after a day at the beach treading sand and with salty and crazy hair.

Maybe I’m just  . . . Me.

Practice stream of consciousness 

I don’t know what I’m waiting for, or even if I am waiting for anything at all. In truth I was looking forward to a broken heart since it seems to improve my writing. But no depressing thoughts or emotionally charged thoughts of loneliness so far.

I have my moments though, a thought of him, about him, surprises me now and then. Some times I want to tell him something, or sometimes I just want to put my head on his chest – yes, yes I know . . . This is utterly throw-up gagging can’t stand it ridiculousness. Other times I remember his dark moods and everything makes sense.

I’m not sure what’s happening. I keep imagining the weirdest things to try and get a reaction from within me. For example, what if I saw him with a girlfriend? Nothing. What if I saw him with a gorgeous girlfriend? Nothing, well . . . Nope, nothing. I know I like him, I can feel it, but still no heart wrenching pain.

I was pretty mad last week, hurt, confused . . . Then I laughed as I hadn’t laugh in a while. I wish, I wish so many things that cannot be because I am me and he is him. I wouldn’t like him if he wasn’t him, but that also means I can’t be with him. A conundrum, but only for me. Well, for both but he would never admit it.

Three Dreams

Before my cats started fighting this morning I was dreaming, and sleeping a very deep and satisfying sleep. Three dreams.

Dream 1:

A huge expanse of land, a dry, hard packed, white-ochre soil flat and extending as far as you can see. In the middle of it I am standing, surrounded by a huge ancient building. Stone buildings, over a hundred stories high, a mix between western Asian and Chinese architecture – or at least what I think it is western Asian and Chinese architecture with my limited knowledge. – The buildings are topped with hugs long, Chinese dragons. I stand in the middle of a semicircle formed by the buildings, in the middle of the day, a bright, cold day in the middle of the desert.

I wanted to leave, immediately, I knew what was coming. Like in a b-rated horror movie  vampires would come out of the buildings, they would turn the blue sky black and we would all be dead.

Dream 2:

People for work, colleagues, all in a bus. There was an office building but I don’t remember where or why I was there. But I remember coming down a flight of stairs and getting in a bus.

Dream 3:

I was at the airport waiting for a plane, and I was with him,  A. We were laughing, sitting across each other at a table, his back to the airport windows. He has his right leg crossed over this left one, his laughing and sassing me and I’m sassing him back. We are talking about his sister, and a letter written in pink stationary.

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