Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Too Much Is Not Enough

My dreams are pretty vivid. Epic even. Filled with strange detailed characters with some of the most complex scenes and nuances. A chain smoking fat lady in a fancy hotel with floor to ceiling red velvet curtains, maniacal wall climbing serial killers, psychoanalysts with an emphasis on PSYCHO. Tuscan villages, Nantucket farmhouses, abandoned amusement parks, even a futuristic metallic world where the buildings are built on stilts above an ocean with a secret society beneath the surface. As my dearest friend continually tells me I should start writing them down and try to sell them as screenplays. Maybe one day. But today, instead, I'm going to my first appointment with a Jungian analyst. I dream about water constantly; however up until recently, the rivers contained amputated body parts, rotting garbage or some other form of malevolence. I wonder if she can tell me why.

There's a shark shaped fin
In the water of my dreams
An alligator screams from the depths there
I'd swim with you there
I'd swim with you there

On the sheets and pillow case
In my bed for heaven's sake
The devil's dancing until late in my head there
But I could sleep with you there
I could sleep with you there

Catherine Wheel - Fripp

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