[ Wednesday, June 11, 2003 ]
It's coming.
I feel it.
I'm dreaming about it.
Coming from kind old prophetic people, people who believe in spirits, in voices, in gut instincts...I've learned to trust what my subconscious is telling me.
Twice I've dreamt that I've been struck by lightning. The first time about a month ago. In my dream I was standing outside an old dormitory, barefoot while the rain poured down, with this worn pink-checked dress & a grey sweater clinging to me. A storm raged & I stood looking up at the windows of this crumbling building, at the sky. A bolt of lightning struck an electric pole next to me. The electricity combined and struck me in the belly, sending me to the ground where I shook. In my dream I was pregnant. And when I woke up from the shock, my hands cradled my belly, worried that my baby might not have survived.
Strange.
Just a few hours ago, I dreamt that I was at my grandma's house, standing on her back porch. Behind the house there was a pond & the sky turned absolutely grey with big gusts of wind rippling the water into big waves. The pond was fed by a creek which ran through the center of a canyon. I looked up at the sky. Every bit of it was grey & tumultuous, just churning, except for the portion directly above the canyon which I was facing. Dazzled & enthralled by the pink, gold, lavender flecks of color, I stood motionless just gazing up. The waves beside me kept rising...standing up 14-20 feet tall, then crashing down. The flecks of color began to move, rush toward me, slicing the grey. I knew it was coming for me. I didn't move. Didn't hide. Didn't run inside. I stood still while the wind & rain blew my hair in every direction & again, wetted my dress to my legs. Then it hit & filled me with this energetic shock. Not painful. Almost spiritual & orgasmic. When I woke up, I went in the house which was initially empty. My stepmother emerged from the corner with tissue & began to wipe my ankles. They were bleeding. I looked down at my arms & there were random flecks of blood scattered on them. Then on my neck. My belly. I was bleeding from every pore. My teeth were chattering. I was trying to explain what had happened. My body was still shaking.
I woke up.
Do I believe I'll be struck by lightning any time soon? Probably not. Is something brewing inside me / around me? Definitely. In all honesty, my spirit right now is churning. Every idea / belief which is at the core of me is shuffling around...trying to find proper placement.
For so long, I was satisfied, knew who I was...who I wanted to become...who I was destined to become. Now I've come to this place where I'm not even comfortable in my own skin. I've never been in this place before and it terrifies me. All I have...is what is inside me. Vision. Creativity. Words. Images. They've not been coming out like they should. I haven't nurtured the part of me that wants to create. I know that it has to do with avoidance. Because when I start digging, there will be no way to cap what might come out. And I just don't really want to deal right now with any of the issues I need to deal with. I'd rather fill my time with less thoughtful things. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh & never stop.
But the truth is, behind this goodtime gal creation...that I've so delicately mastered...is this gentle spirit looking for home & place & rest & understanding. That's the me in dress & sweater & bare feet. That's the me that sits in this peach chair in front of my computer screen writing to anyone, no one, everyone. Pretending that I might just have something imortant to say. That you really want to know all this. That my emotion...the bubbling of it, the absence of it, the emergence of it...might be,in some way, meaningful. I agree that it's selfish & vain. Or is it just typical of the human nature? To want to connect...feel seen...important...needed in some way. No matter how small or insignificant.
Maybe it's just the idea of sending this out, to whomever, wherever. Pretending that this might be an electronic version of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. That at some time...these entries might make someone smile a content smile...just like I smiled during, after reading those letters. For days.
Sometimes I wonder...who would I be if I were in a different city? If I were in a place where it was easier to connect? Would I connect? Or would I be this mysterious little girl with stained fingers & a notebook who walked in & out of your life with only a smile? Would you notice me? Like I notice you? Would my aura speak? Could you sense my baggage?
A guy once told me "You can't see Beck and not think about Beck. That's just the way it is."
I wonder if it was just a pick-up line. A way to lure me with flattery. The vain part of me hopes that it wasn't. That thoughts might actually settle on my skin like dust. That the conversations I've had with people still play out in their heads. That the random, spontaneous acts...such as jumping into a jacuzzi fully clothed on a whim, or running through huge puddles of mud on a dare...are actually thought about & smiled upon from time to time.
I hope he still thinks about me.
Like I think about him.
Although the type of love we had wasn't good for us.
I wonder...if the timing had been different, if we had met sooner, later.
If our souls were less timid.
If we had trusted more.
If we had believed more.
Would things have turned out different?
Would he have given up meth?
Would he have settled for me?
Could I have healed him?
He & I really were the only people in the world when we were together.
Nothing else existed.
I was the little girl who knew his little boy insides...better than I knew myself.
And maybe that, in itself, is terrifying.
Or maybe I just perceived thing wrongs?
Either way. I'd love to know. But I don't think I ever will.
I'll leave it at that.
Much love to all.
~ Rebecca 12:09 AM [+]
