thoughts on a couple recent dreams, and how they can or cannot help

I dream a lot, in general, but full moons really get my subconscious going. I am not sure if it’s the moon and its power, or a placebo of some nature i.e. me manifesting dreams because I feel like I should be when the moon is shining through the window onto my face. I have this same idea with everything: is it just me? or is it really magic? and my answer usually comes in the form of another question: does it matter?

So. This past full moon, last night and the night before really, I had some interesting dreams. The one two nights ago was very interesting, and it woke me up at midnight after I went to bed relatively early (around 10pm) and I stayed up till about 4am, writing and reading. Here’s the full description of the dream as I wrote it that night:

Escalators in the dark
A closed in, multi-level, parking lot vibe
Dry stones grinding, the way they do under highways
Drips, from strange places, leaving dark stains on the sandy dry rocks
Escalators, up and into nowhere, winding through concrete pathways
Futuristic hustles, and intrigue, shadows watching from the shadows
A futuristic lab bus, workers harried and terse and genial with each other
Like TSA beneath the underpasses in the concrete dealing with criminals, and visitors
One visitor, Crowder, or Common, no one visits him.

A woman, in her 40s, strawberry blonde in a red uniform with a name tag, like a stewardess or 
Toxic waste storage dump access manager
Laughs about who visits, and who waits
Whan I mention Crowder, or Common, she says, “He’ll never get out,”
And then, when I step into the phone booth to prison at the end of the red lit hall, she steps close and with a meaningful look says,
“You should really give him a call and say hi”
When I do …
He doesn’t answer right away, but when he does,
A gravel voice, drawn out like a hiss
“Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy. What have you been doing man? You’re fucking up out there … “
Me, scared but not scared
“I’ve been doing the best I can out here man, no one really knows what’s going on …”
“Good, good,” he says. “Let me get back to you, let me talk to  ____, we’ll get in touch soon.”
I hang up, as I leave, I turn to the strawberry woman and say
“Crowder, or Common, he says … he says hi.”
And she nods, as if I sent the right code, at the right time.

Back into gravel, and the dust, on an escalator to nowhere
I try to piss there, but people visiting, people watching, people in the shadows visiting this place
This dusty gravel place like a dark, closed in, multi-level parking lot
With escalators and concrete pathways to nowhere.

Two Africans, West African, they watch me from the shadows
Another African, East African, walks up beside me
On a concrete pathway to nowhere
Escalators rising up around us
People visiting, and watching, 
Intrigue in the dark while visitors visit, only partially aware of where they are
And what goes on in the shadows, amongst the dusty stones and the escalators.

“Brother,” he says. “We are getting rich off them, we take them down, down, down …”
And I know, where down is, it’s down where the concrete starts
Where the escalators start, and where they end, in the dark where the teams and visitors go
To visit and tour and shop 
“Oh I know,” I say. “Gambling, and weed, and pussy.”
“Riiiiggghht,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder, laughing loud. “I call it: Shiloh Status!”
We keep walking, I am headed back up a different escalator, but we agree, it’s good, what he is doing
He’s getting paid, and I am linked, I am part of the intrigue, I am In, but how, I am not quite sure. It must
It must have something to do with Crowder, or Common.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “You’re already a carrier. Call me when you wake up …”
His voice echoes in my ears as he turns off, down a dark path.

I feel my feet grow heavy, and drugged
I remember when he clapped me on the shoulder, and I realize …
And then I wake up
In the dark, 
“How do I get a hold of him?

What could this dream mean? I am not sure at all. But, what struck me was the finally minute when the East African hustler said, “Call me when you wake up …” and I suddenly felt drugged, as if I was leaving the truth and re-entering the matrix, leaving something and coming back to something else, and that feeling stayed with me for several minutes after I woke. I really thought to myself, “how in the fuck am I gonna get a hold of … whomever it is I need to get a hold of ???”

Last night, the actual full moon night, I made a small intention, made a small ask, for my dreams to show me something. Something I should know, or some answer to a question, or something of that nature. I went to bed, passed out, and dreamed of the relationship triangle between my brother, my dad, and me. In the dream, my dad chose my brother, over and over, despite anything I was doing or was willing to do: including threatening gangsters with violence and therefore putting my life on the line (in the dream).

Yes. My Dad and my brother talk all the time, they have a solid relationship, and I don’t have that. I am talking with my brother again, but not so much with my dad. Thanks for reminding me, full moon dream!!

Regardless of whether or not full moons help, or if the ask I made was “answered,” it’s always instructive for me to take a look at my dreams and try and get the message. I’m obsessed with this failed relationship, for example, and it occupies a lot of my psyche, in the background, somewhat like the demons squatting in my head that I spoke about in a different blogpost. It’s really hard for me to contain impulsive behavior regarding this obsession: stalking various online profiles and looping on the same questions, for example. It’s taken on a life of its own and I am deeply ashamed of how strong of a hold it has on me and how it seems to just … linger. It’s a weak thing actually, an obsession, its like a nagging thorn or something. It doesn’t interfere with my life or my work – I am traveling and writing and kicking it and living and generally doing all the things – but neither does it not interfere. It’s just … there.

The dreams I have regarding this relationship are pretty interesting sometimes. I dreamed once that I was being elbowed out by a younger generation I actually wanted little to do with, and when I woke up, the message was: you don’t want to be the older weirdo trying to fit in with a younger crowd. Most of the time, though, the dreams are just her fucking someone else right in front of me, or within my sight – so standard betrayal and abandonment dreams. What I learn, from my dreams in this regard, is that this “obsession” is actually a surface level issue, and that the deeper, more important, more pivotal emotional thorns in my life deal with things I’ve carried around for a while. It feels like, things bubble up from the deeps and work their way to the surface via dreams, and in some instances I am able to remember enough to think about some of these things. Some issues dreams have shown me are:

my fear of growing old, my fear of being abandoned by lovers, my fear of sexual impotency, my anger towards my dad, my fear of losing or failing my children, my fear of being humiliated …

I don’t think these are “special” fears, in that I have some trauma that is particularly unique. I think I’m just a dude with dude issues, and the most pressing at the moment are:

healing from what was for me a very intense relationship that I kept revisiting (I just peeped a profile a few minutes ago, which is a mini-revisit, I am going to try and forgive me for that …) by engaging again despite my entire system being triggered into red alert

and finding some sort of detente with my father, and a place within my family

and I think most serious but also most vague, my transition into middle age. That’s something – shit even the phrase – that has me very unsure of how to proceed, and very fearful of … disappearing, being disappeared, being considered irrelevant and unsexy and undesirable and suitable for the sideline.

Just took another look …

moon dreams can’t save a brother who don’t wanna be saved lol but they, like any practice, can help steer a few choices perhaps, and in so doing, slowly, very slowly, take a man into a direction towards fate and maybe maybe …. fulfillment.

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Sascha Matuszak

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