Dreams frustrate me
22 May 2001 14:57![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
juldeaI had an amazing dream. It was detailed and fantastic and complex. There were bichon frise dogs, friends, motorcycles, spaceships, and Queen Amidala. I shape-shifted, and I climbed through an electric fence. I saw Emerson Mounger (a random IT guy from Saxon) drive by in a dune buggy, and I hid from him because I didn't know if he was on "my side" or not. I rode a motorcycle with two other escapees and we leaned inward too far on a turn and flipped, but got back up and on the bike again.
And yet now, when I try to remember the storyline of the dream, to share it with you, it all eludes me. I get the bits and pieces, but they don't want to fit together.
Which is too much like my memory. I could never relate a story about making cheerleader in 8th grade, but I could tell you about checking the posting on the gym door to see if my number was there, or the first day I went to school in my outfit, or being introduced at a pep rally. Little 5-second bits of information. Moments.
Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one
But if life were only moments, then you'd never know you had one.
Let the moment go, don't forget it for a moment, though.
Now I understand -- and it's time to leave the woods.
Many thanks to Steven Sondheim.
And yet now, when I try to remember the storyline of the dream, to share it with you, it all eludes me. I get the bits and pieces, but they don't want to fit together.
Which is too much like my memory. I could never relate a story about making cheerleader in 8th grade, but I could tell you about checking the posting on the gym door to see if my number was there, or the first day I went to school in my outfit, or being introduced at a pep rally. Little 5-second bits of information. Moments.
Oh, if life were made of moments, even now and then a bad one
But if life were only moments, then you'd never know you had one.
Let the moment go, don't forget it for a moment, though.
Now I understand -- and it's time to leave the woods.
Many thanks to Steven Sondheim.