Jul 19, 2013





Handling Distractions

Summary: Object perception manipulation; missing element of the puzzle; color frequencies as dimensions; options for dealing with sexual tension.

Recorded scene from series of dreams on Night of 9th/10th 2012

I am at my parent's house again, coming up stairs to the attic converted into bedrooms. I avoid Chris out of obligation, suppressing strong desire for him to jump me. His little brother Otus is playing an old SNES game I recognized in the dream and have dreamt about before but can't remember the name of it. He's having trouble finding the yellow (what resemble cotton balls) hidden throughout the game. They aren't important to the story of advancement, he's just being a completionist. Where were they, I tried to remember from when I played the game. They were random drops after enemy battles.


Otus warns me Chris is in the room next to us. I reply "I know" and go to the far back one, my old room. Outside the window in my room that leads to the roof is a kind of barrier surrounded by black plastic and what looked like sleeping bags opened and strewn across this lower roof we used to play on. The roof should be clear of anything we could slip on. Why was there a barricade? To keep my son from falling off was the reasoning I told myself, though that answer wasn't quite accurate.

Stan (my distant cousin), Chris, and Jim are there. I am not always aware of what they are each doing. My focus sits on only one at a time. I am filled with sexual tension and craving for one of them, any one of them, to engage with me. They alternate turns with me. On the bed with Stan. Not sure what we were talking about or what we were doing other than trying to resist our attraction. I move to my desk where Chris is hiding. I contrive an excuse to stand in front of him at the desk, looking for makeup. Will his defiant desires cross the threshold to action? Before I could even finish the thought, he tackles me to the floor, aggressively kissing me. I am excited, but don't fully reciprocate. He moves off because Jim's presence is distracting me with guilt. Jim looks confused but remains complacent in his observing. I push off, or Chris feels my hesitation and moves off. I crawl to Jim and lay on top of him. I explain what happened. He dismisses the incident, satisfied that I had not reciprocated Chris' advance. I wanted to be honest, so I admitted to wanting to reciprocate.

My guilt may have made me ill. They treated me as though I were sick, and I milked their attention. I didn't actually feel any symptoms though, just the belief that I was. Stan held me in his lap, having switched places with Jim on the floor. I enjoyed being comforted and tended to. He broke pieces off a block like chunks of colby jack cheddar (I cut some earlier that day). The pieces alternated between the yellow of what I imposed it resembled, cheese, and perhaps its real appearance of blue like a clay. He told e to put a chunk up each nostril, it would make me feel better. I fake whined, "But I don't feel good." He was understanding, "I know honey, this will help." I struggled in his arms like a child testing a parent's resolve for the game of it. I wanted to feel the full measure of his embrace.

I stuck a piece up each nostril and sucked up until they blocked my sinus cavities from air flow. The sensation was uncomfortable but not painful. My sleeping body was having trouble breathing during this procedure. My consciousness flashed back and forth between the status of my dream and my body. I was waking up for split seconds of awareness without opening my eyes or actually having control. Imagining the blockage to my airways was manifesting in my body; I woke in spurts to get my body to breathe through the mouth.

When I returned full time to the dream, the obstructions had melted up, to where I'm not sure, and suddenly I could breathe through my nose again. Was this an implant? I walked out of the room after this with a renewed focus on the puzzle Otus had asked me about for his game. I no longer was distracted by my sexual impulses. Had it cured my desires? There was no second guess about what had just happened, I immediately picked up with the search for the yellow cotton balls.

Color Dimensions
 
Otus already had the red, the blue, and one other (either green or purple) in the game, but not the yellow ones. He repeatedly kept missing the yellow ones and accumulated more and more of the others with slight variances in the number collected.

Given the colored tint of many of my dreams, I have contemplated the possibility that each color can exist as a side dimension for specific activities. My blue tinted dreams have been about trainings based on real world places, usually representing 'mystery'. Red has been with stages, plays, war, sex (sometimes combined with purple), where I am 'the girl in red'. What would yellow represent? I saw yellow tint when I was dressed in loose white hangings and danced freely in an open-air second story house overlooking a paradise. The yellow was from sunlight. I do need more dreams of freedom and joy, if that's what yellow represents. 

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