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i had a dream last night. yeah it was disturbing. nothing like a dream about the trailer i grew up in while living in NC to make me come back to this blog. i swear all of my creative ventures kinda scare the shit out of me. i think i've been avoiding a lot of important creation moments. i need secrets again. this will always be a void for just me. and i think that's perfect.
the details are a little more like sand right now, certain parts are slipping into subconscious things that are out of my grasp. but the major points via good ole notes;
one detail that just back to me was the fact that the back window of the door was on the wall instead on the back porch. The curtain was like... pushed back invisibly and my mother's cat Arwen is watching me leaving in the car. seeing the curtain moved even though I know the house is empty gives me this feeling of dread.
i can really easily remember how dark the inside of the house was. everything was pitch black, or there would be flashes of light like a TV or something was on. kinda felt like scenes from that one movie... hold on let me look it up.
skinamarink. that's the one. my dream was very forced perspective. i can remember things be thrown at me. i was scared. not for my life, but just scared. i felt small but i know that i was my current age. most of the action happened in my room which kind of varies in my dreams lately. i am starting to recall now i've actually had quite a few dreams recently about that trailer. my room changes a lot. sometimes its a mess, sometimes its empty, sometimes its arranged maybe how i would do it now. in this dream though it was both messy and empty. the mattress was on the floor and there was trash as if someone had cleaned it out messily. i remember falling a lot, being pushed down. i wasn't crying, i wasn't hysterical, i was just meek. nervous almost.
there were two other people with me, sometimes i feel like i remember my grandma being there, other times maybe it was mimi. i can't remember very clearly but they were trying to help me. i remember them tugging me in different directions and panicking. they couldn't understand what was happening and i kept telling them that we had to leave. it was like we were fighting to leave the trailer.
i think i also remember the only room that was well-lit and nice was my mom's room. the door was open and it was bright, but for some reason i wouldn't go in there.
i don't think i wanted to admit it until i pulled up at home and z was yapping about bioshock. the ghost was definitely my mom. it didn't feel like she was dead. it just felt like i was dreaming and couldn't get out of that fucking trailer. it felt oppressive. it was exhausting. i didn't feel rested after waking up. i think my dreams have been keeping me up at night.
a lot of bad things happened in that trailer as i said in that note. i remember my mom often told me in those years that maybe we weren't meant to get along or be friends. i remember feeling like she didn't like me. some days it still feels like that. really really bad things happened to me in that fucking trailer. things i am desperate to get rid of. i wish i didn't remember. it claws at me.
here i froze. stopped writing. listening to vacillator by ethel cain. thinking about the way i drew the eight of swords while thinking about this dream. according to the "deviant moons" its associated with censorship. restriction. control via outside forces. big breath here. suffocation. had to switch up the vibe. still ethel cain though. she sings to little me in a way i can't explain. i hope she's having a good night.
i think i am starting to accept a lot of the really awful things that happened to me. why i can't forgive him. i don't hate him. i am just glad to be free of them. i knew i would get better. that they would. the world will always spin on, that's the way its meant to be. everything will always fall into place. and my place is right here right now trying to accept those bad things. to comfort a little me that just wanted to play video games without sexual favors from someone who had no business asking for them.
that trailer would probably be my personal hell. "that picture on the wall you're scared of looks just like you." type of beat. when i think about what he did to me in that place, it is a sorry reminder that i am just another link in the endless generation curse that links me to my depressed mother. my angry grandmother. all my aunties that never knew peace. my great grandmother who was nothing more than a mother on a farm and never saw past the field until she slowly lost her memories.
it will end with me. should i ever be blessed with children of my own, god ick what am i even talking about. yet it persists. if i have a daughter... i hope she is just like me. i hope she has little pieces of women she never knew. fire and ice and red and blue. I think Mary is really pretty name, and not just because of Silent Hill. But because of my great grandma who carried me once. Teaching me about flower even if I cant remember. I feel connected to her somehow, I know that she looks out for me, I think she spends a lot of time with all her grandchildren. I know she's busy but I can feel her from time to time, and I am grateful.
lol oops look at me using capitalization and what not. oh no my edge.
i think i should try to write more about my formative years in backswamp so i don't forget the sunshine too. there were good times, which i think comes from the sunshine outside during my dream. i was safe outside. it was inside where the bad things happened.
oh wow. the sun was on the bottom of the deck...
alright i think i am out of steam for this entry. z is snoring which means its late and i should go to sleep. but not before i do a quick reading for myself because this deck has been pretty keen tonight ala the full moon. so thanks for the deck michael, i imagine you chose it for me for a reason so i choose to keep that blessing, and release your energy back to you.
π«π¬π΄ ππ©ππΆπ¦π«π€: nettles by ethel cain & DEAD by sudan archives
πͺπ¬π¬π‘: 70% tired 5% haunted 5% scared 15% scarred
π π¬π©π¬π―: sun yellow #F39F18
π¨π’πΆ π΄π¬π―π‘π°: "remain" - "pollution" - "scream" - "interference"
πͺπ’ππ«π¦π«π€: bondage, being controlled by outside forces, censorship, restriction
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