Race for Freedom

Swore I had a flying car racing dream a few nights ago, but it didn't stick very well. Last night, I had a clearer running racing dream. That alone is interesting. It suggests a message will be repeated in a different context if the previous one did not encode well enough for me to grasp it. I am currently in the process of data analysis now that I have nearly 200 dreams recorded over the last 9 months. I averaged a recording every other day. Many are still not posted here on this blog, but I have them compiled in detail in spiral notebooks. The hope is that I can begin to put together an idea of what is going on, what is so important to be sending me series of thematic dreams, as many as five in one night. Is there a linear pattern? Do they tell a story? Up to this point I have believed they have been responding to my daily life, irrelevant for the most part to one another. But after summarizing a months worth of dreams, there may be a progression. I will update my results here in semi-real time, for free to readers. If it all turns out to be significant, as I suspect it will be, this will all be the subject matter for my second book after the one I am trying to wrap up on imagined beings.

Night of July 24th/25th 2013



Running competition for best time down a main street outside my parent's house that passes by the fields of my old high school and toward the old Albertson's store. My choir teacher is a leading competitor. I had my son with me. I didn't participate to win, I knew these other people were far better than I was and could run laps around me. I did it for the challenge and the exercise. Finishing landed me at a dorm room where I was staying with a few female roommates. Tristan, a gal from my childhood who for some reason keeps taking the personality of someone who teases and criticizes me, was pointing out my failure to finish anywhere near the other racers. I defended myself as best I could, but mostly in my own mind. I knew the others didn't have a child to tend to during the race, and I wasn't trying to win, so her comments were unnecessarily abusive.

I turned the table by teasing our old professor who had raced, saying he smelled funny. But I knew that was unfair since he had just ran a race. But they seemed to join for a moment in my teacher bashing. I felt guilty though.

How are we, as humans, supposed to combat our impulsive judgments? In many ways, those impression-based assessments are important to our social and emotional survival. They provide clues to identifying potential threatening personalities, and serve as encouragement to change ourselves away from who we see we don't want to be. Yet we are supposed to 'overcome' our nature to have judgmental thoughts? This leads to internal battles with ourselves, pitting the moral center of the mind against that impulsive side. If we are children, how else are we supposed to learn than to acknowledge that which we feel and think so we might learn how to express and why those thoughts are unfair or inaccurate. I need to allow myself to feel and think the things I suppress, even if it is against popular standard or belief, that includes whatever expectations you, my guides, may have for me. My intent is not rebellion, but self-defense.

In the spirit of standing up for my thoughts and feelings: 
I just told my partner (father of my son) and my childhood sweetheart that my greatest sexual fantasy is to have a threesome with the two men I love. I would be amazing.

I feel nauseous. Divulging suppressed truth makes me nauseous.
This is an amusing social experiment for you up there isn't it? You're all up there laughing "Oh shit, she did it! Ha!" It's silly because its a common fantasy, it sucks because I dread how they might take it wrong. How can someone love two people? That is the dumbest question I have ever heard. How can a mother love four children? How can you love two parents? How can you love four grandparents? Romantic love should not be any different. Its possible to be genuine for more than one person. Maybe it should.

Please don't egg my house.