I am now going to write a blog post that documents a dream about which I know the meaning already.
There in life I was staying with somebody, and staying with their son, within my childhood and within a loft-space at their abode. This somebody happens to be a friend of my mother, yet also a friend of the family. This dream is about what is important in life, and how we manufacture meaning by clinging on to past flames.
I am sleeping in this loft-space. My sister is here, and Scott, the son of Cathy, my mother's friend. Actually, she is my friend as well, and more so that Scott, who is a past 'flame'.
We all sleep, and it is a sleep over. Cathy is looking after Corina and I for the night. We sleep among many books. I cannot get this idea of the loft-space trapdoor out of my head. The trapdoor is filled with books that I have read, and Corina and Scott and I sleep, and we have a nice night, whilst Cathy is downstairs sleeping with her husband Tony.
But there is some kind of altercation or misunderstanding that has seemed to have happened between Scott and I, although Corina is not in this event, But Scott and I have had a falling out, and we are not friends. Yet Cathy is the overarching motherly influence, and still a flame is fanned for the hearth of our friendship. I am to leave.
And in leaving, I want to take my books with me, that it seems I have entrusted to the holding of Scott and Cathy and Tony. I have many books. I have fallen out with Scott, and I must leave and take my books with me. Yet I have left so many books, and they are all inside this loft-space, hidden in between different joists, and some on shelves (what is it this about shelves? Yes I like shelves.)
Cathy is understanding, but Scott is fuming. I don't know why Scott has turned on me. We've just had an understanding. I want to have collected all my books, that have been stored over the years in this loft-space, and there are some magic ones, and some history ones, and some science ones. And I want them all back. And I nearly have them, but there is one book, that they have, that I remember that they have, that I especially want back, and it's a magic book. And every time I collect a book I want, I remember another book. I keep remembering the other book.
Anyway, I have collected nearly all my books, and it turns out that this is the sum total of nearly all of Scott's possessions. And he becomes more and more humble with each book I take back. I am nearly out of the house.
Then, we are in the lobby, or kitchen, or religious area of the house, and Sydney Crocker has come in, and yet, Where is my father? Syd is fixing the kitchen, and I have not the excuse to yet leave the house, into the day and onto where I do no know, but it feels like there is a church out there.
Syd is fixing the kitchen, and there are other characters, like Dean A, and it seems we are in a church environment. And John Kenny is here, and he has some issue with a woman. We are at the church, and we sing our praises, and the church makes a lovely scene, but the woman John (or Dean) has entertained has turned out to be slightly mental... a bit of a broken woman. She calls John (Dean) on the phone and is acting all mad and bunny boiler-like, and I devise a plan to fill this woman's head with lies, such that she believes those lies, and eventually goes somewhere else, from having lost interest.
The woman, having been lied to, and subsequently having had her heart ripped out, decides to pursue John (Dean) through crawl-space underneath this church. And meanwhile a Hollywood movie has been made, and yet the woman (Jeanette or Alice), she has been spat on, and finds all this going on by popping to say hello, from behind a holy counter, and up from the ground underneath the church, and through a cupboard. The woman is mad enough not to care about the abuse she has had to deal with.
But perhaps she is not mad.
Anyway, I know the meaning of this dream. This dream is about those who care about us. This dream is about those we care about. This dream is about religion, and Christ.
Christ has driven life, and we are in Christ. We are geared and primed, taught and conditioned to believe in the Christ, and perhaps it is a clever ruse, a very wise and cunning ruse, to ensure that we are each looked after in life.
Some of us fail to understand what the meaning of 'being looked after' is. But just as I am inside a room, sheltered from the weather, I am in Christ's light.
The appearance of Scott in this dream comes as an issue or nuance, or element of my own misconceptions, that there is something special about our acquaintance with one another. But that is an illusion. It is illusion that I place Scott on a pedestal, merely because I knew him in childhood.
In the dream, I was taking the books back, and this could be a hint towards the idea of a multiversal existence beyond my own, that is, a recognition of what I am perceived as. However, we know in our heart that such an anomaly cannot be true, but the hint is there.
This dream is about neediness, and the recursive nature of religion, as a ground. There is something very sorrowful about my perceptions of religion, and something very dour about my perceptions of women in this dream.
There appear to be two types of women in this dream: the needy, and the needed - and it pains me to say it. They are both my mother, but one of them is a lover.
I have no reach with women.
I leave it here.
And good morning.