Thursday, February 25, 2010

Good one!

I had mentioned to my boyfriend in 2003 that I wanted a dream book. On my birthday that same year, I received the most gorgeous book with curry colored pages. The pages were handmade and the outside of the book was woven with mint green straw and it had a tree barkish binding. Nothing could be more inspiring than writing my dreams on a book that was as detailed as the content that would fill it. I finished writing my dream book in 2004. All of my pages are filled front and back with both text and drawings.

I trained myself to recall my dreams by having a clear mind before I went to bed and telling myself that I would remember my dreams when I awoke. This technique has always proved to be helpful. Of course, everyone is different, but somehow it worked for me. My book was always next to my bed, waiting for the next crazy thing my subconscious would relay. As soon as I woke up, I jotted down my dreams. Some of the pages are not dated, but based on where they fall within my book I am able to tell what year they're from.

Here is a dream from 2004 (text taken directly from my dream book):

I'm not sure if I wrote this dream already, but a couple of weeks ago I had a dream that Briana got really sunburned at the beach. So, I kind of got upset at Vero and asked her why she didn't put any sun block on Briana? She said, " It never works on her." So, I was like, "Oh, so you just didn't put any on her?" Then I said, "Ok, so if I had a long hair growing out of my nose, do you think I should cut it?" Then Joe, Rebeca, and everyone that was there, was laughing and saying, "Good one!" Vero answered, "Yes." I guess that was my way of saying something like, "So, if your friends do it, will you?" Except, my version made no sense, so it's funny that they would laugh and say, "Good one!" Anyway, after Vero said "Yes", she stood outside trying to think of a"good one" as well. I know this because the door had a small window and I could see her rehearsing it.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Reoccurring dream

Every so often, maybe once every two years, I had a reoccurring dream. It wasn't like I dreamt about the same thing, but what happened in my dreams was similar. I dreamt that I would see an object laid out on the floor. It was once a flower, once a crack on cement, once an ant, etc...The object did not move. It was just there. Suddenly, there was a burst of energy that took place. The object would become big, then small, then big, then small. It was like a zoom feature was taking place in my dream. It happened very quickly and the object was very clear. I haven't had that dream in quite some time.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

And the moral of the story is....?

I woke up this morning feeling a bit odd. My back was super aching as usual, but I could not get over my dream. The night before I went to bed I thought about incorporating my dreams onto my blogs. I didn't take it too serious, but usually when I pre-think about my dreams before I go to bed, I remember them. Ok. So, I woke up feeling like I just had a very strange dream, but I was sort of scared to tell it. The dream was not scary, but the concept of sharing it was. I tossed and turned and then I told my boyfriend that I had the weirdest dream.

BF: What did you dream or what?

ME: I had a dream that I was at a party with a lot of people. It felt like there were over 100 people at the party. It was at a huge house painted white, centralized in like a forest type place. I was with Denise (my best friend). But, I was dressed in like a black patent leather dominatrix outfit. It was like bondage. It was definitely skanky. Even in my dream I was super self conscious of my troubled areas. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and saw all my thigh flaws. I'm walking around the party and I see dudes I went to high school with and I also see a guy who I knew from high school that committed suicide last year. Rest in peace. In my dream I knew he was dead, but somehow it was logical that he was walking around. It was like he had been brought back to life. He stood out in my dream for sure. He said hi to me. I waved back and thought that I should come over and ask how he was doing. But, I felt weird about it and focused my attention on how insecure I was feeling about my body. I told Denise that I felt weird in my outfit. I had interesting hair on the lower part of my body that I felt was too long, and it was definitely showing because that part of my body was exposed. I told Denise we should walk to my house. My house was across from where we were. We walked over to my house crossed bright green grass and a white picket fence. Denise did not know this, but I wanted to trim excess hair on the lower part of my body. I decided this would take too long, but kept complaining about it. Then Denise said to me, "Oh my gosh Brenda, this isn't a competition."

It doesn't end there. I also had a dream that I was cooking for my nephew, who is now about 14 years old, and his girlfriend. His girlfriend was chubby and had a very chola demeanor. We were at the last apartments I had lived in while I still lived with my mom in high school. This was also the home where he lived when he was about 1-2 years old. I cooked some steak for them. But, it was rare. My nephew’s girlfriend looked at it a bit disturbed, and then put it in her mouth. She then told me that I needed to add more water to my pan while I cooked it. We were all eating on my mom's white leather couch. I remember looking at her face and grinning inside my thoughts thinking that she got on my nerves. I was irritated while she chewed. Then, I'm not sure what happened, but I was looking for them. But, more so, I was looking for her. I thought there was something fishy about them, and especially her. Something very teenager sneaky was up their sleeve. I looked for her on the couch, as if I were looking for a lost object. In my mind, she had shrunk herself. I looked under and over the couch. I reached my hand in the crack of the couch and just when I thought I had found her, I pulled out a zip lock bag filled with chunks of chewed meat that she had supposedly eaten.

Monday, February 22, 2010

wEt DiRt

If there is one smell that could describe my life it would be wet dirt. Maybe that is a strange thing to discuss. But, I have always been fascinated with the smell of wet dirt. Wet dirt reminds me of my childhood. When I think of wet dirt I think of the breath of life. Wet dirt was my mother’s garden as she watered her diverse and humble looking flowers. The scent flashes my memory to dirty nails from plotting mud cakes with my older sister, Rebeca (always spelled with one C). For some reason, not from my own recollection, but from my mother’s, it makes me imagine my eating dirt as a child (I know quite disgusting and overly revealing). In wet dirt you can smell water. You can smell the potent strength of what water can do to the almost invisible smell of dirt.

BLOG primo


I am blogging. Believe it or not, I had pre-posted a blog venting the shit out of all the things that bother me about my life right now, but I changed my mind about it and deleted it. this is it, I am blogging. Right now, I am blogging. What is my blog about? Should it be about what inspires me? I'm not sure if there is a method to this crazy, but I will post what I wish. This is my world. Welcome!

So far, all I have is a picture.

Here I am...

This is me....