Once Upon a Time-Machine: Dreaming in hypnopompic imagery

 Once upon a time machine: Dreaming in hypnopompic imagery

Praia da Vagueira

                                   
 

 Awakening at 10:00 am, for the second day in a row, I lay in bed for a few smug moments soaking up the totality of the situation. When I start waking up at 10:00 am, I know vacation is soon over...

Well, that's what 10:00 am means in this current life iteration. In a past chapter, far far away across the furthest reaches of the Pacific Ocean, waking up at 10:00 am meant different things due to different situations. Those were enjoyable times, for sure. 

Back to current reality, I'm slowly, quietly working out the day ahead: eat that luscious mango in the refrigerator with some Greek yogurt and fresh blueberries,perhaps even drizzle some organic honey on top; go into the garage and tool around with my bicycle, get the sewing machine fired up and put new elastic around my favorite bikini bottoms that I've had for about 20 years. Of course I have a plethora of bikinis — as anyone from Hawaii amasses because it's the most important piece of clothing to wear — but this bottom is my absolute favorite. 

The backstory of this bikini bottom: My boyfriend and I were on the mainland (San Francisco). We had just finished traversing the U.S. from San Fran to the Midwest and back. It was an epic odyssey— as they all were. We were back in San Francisco and had to return the van we were traveling in. We rented it and took out the back seats and put a futon bed in it and just drove... Anyway, we were somewhere in the Outer Sunset (district) and getting coffee early on the last morning, and a surf shop was next door. We walked in, of course, and there I saw them: exquisite. If you don't know #AaronChang, he is a famous surf photographer. I didn't know he had a surf clothing line as well.  This bikini bottom (no top) was the most beautiful fabric I had seen (well, that can't honestly be confirmed being that it is a major weakness of mine, fabric). I knew that it would be mine, even considering it was the last day of our travels and we had to head back to Hawaii nearly penniless. However, living in Hawaii, one is always in search of the bikini that no one else has. To add to its potential lure, I could tell that Iwould be able to surf and the bottoms wouldn't fall down when you fall off your board (quite common, honestly). I think Ed went back into the coffee-shop, but I stayed... I coveted. I purchased. Back to the Islands we went. Now, all my bikinis are spread around the globe in my belongings — waiting for a permanent place to belong, but this one stays with me always.  

Back to the dream-machine...which is the point of this communique...which has nothing to do with bikinis, although Freud might think differently...

For two days in a row now, I've slept in until 10:00 am. Friday night was a late night out/early morning arrival home (however you want to analyze that one), and last night was just an innate desire to sleep for 12 hours. The second happens less frequently than the first..., so whenever the feeling arises, I just go with it. Somehow, somewhere tucked into those 12 hours I had a strange dream. I mean, I guess all dreams are strange. I usually don't remember my dreams, so I started piecing this one back together. The gist:

I met a strange man while in a strange land. There was an empty old-style apartment (mine?). I think it was only a room- bedroom. It seems it was a recent possession. It had a cathedral ceiling, chipped paint/plaster, and a rustic smell. It was bright, though. After some time (?) I returned to it only to find four women occupying it. I told them they should leave because it was mine. They looked scared or lost- not knowing what to do or where to go. I apologized and said they should take their time leaving. I told some people the story- I think they were my family- for sure my sister as I remember explaining the room to her. The man I had met showed up to where I was staying (with family?). Then I was on a subway and got off somewhere I'd traveled to before (Romania with Ed? (a different Ed, Istanbul Ed)). I recognized that it was somewhere I had visited before, but not the part of the city (Cluj Napoca) where I had been staying. I only accidentally had walked there (in real life), so the dream revisited this brief place, but I immediately recognized it in my dream. I met up with the strange man again. We kissed. I saw the strange man again in a field, with 2 other men. One was bald and seemed to be his bodyguard. As I observed them from a distance I thought, "Who is this strange man? Why does he need a bodyguard? Why are they speaking in hushed tones? The sun is beating down on them. How does this connect to a (my?) empty room- which has nothing in it but a bed?" Then, I was somewhere outside & saw a pink Cadillac. It parks in a field across from where I'm observing them. The chauffeur gets out. The strange man is still there as well. They are all standing/talking. The strange man gets in the pink Cadillac. As the chauffeur drives off, a dust cloud enshrouds the Cadillac- but not before our eyes briefly focus on each other.

What would Freud do? That's too loaded of a question. How do I interpret this? Here goes: The room was something from my past? The observation that there was only a bed in the room; no need to unpack that one... The 4 women in the room with only a bed; all remnants of a (my) past life chapters- earlier versions of myself or more likely ones that still present themselves in various encounters? The Romania part; that's a deep memory. The subway makes sense; deep underground processing of thoughts. The strange man? I think he must have owned a carnival. The pink Cadillac certainly fits nicely with the carnival imagery. The whispering men; likely the masculine qualities of myself that I keep private. 

So... there was a carnival yesterday in Vagos (or was it a religious festival... I'd like to think, in retrospect, that it was a carnival) while coming back from Praia do Labrego. The lights were on, people were flowing throughout the venue, and the smell of roasting meat pervaded my being. I continued on, but not before catching glimpses of activity. Riding on, the brief image of that scene stayed with me for a few more miles. 

What does it all mean? Who knows. On an ending note, I couldn't resist... I asked AI what Freud would have thought of my dream... lol