Who has an ear, let hear.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
I was chauffering Grandmama around from state to state.
She was picky about her diet, so finding refreshment at gas stations was dificult.
I stopped by a gas station, and it turned out that Holly from my old job worked there. I was getting a drink off of the shelf, and she called out to me and said
"Adam?"
"Yes?"
"Don't take this the wrong way...but..."
"But?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you were magic?"
And my stomach sank because in the dream, I guess I was sick of being so magic to all these women while all the time feeling like anti-magic to myself.
"Actually, yes. I know what you mean. Thank you."
And then she smiled and rang me up. I guess her day was made.
But peep THIS.
I left the store, and as I did, in comes Grandmama who has decided that she wants a coke for her diet. Whatever. So I go back in, and the lights are all off, and Holly has turned into Timi, who has already gone to the back of the store to do whatever it is that clerks do when the store is closed. Out she comes, and I startle her, and she gets a little annoyed/
"What are you DOING here?"
And I'm thinking: just a second ago, I was freakin MAGIC...LOL
"I need a coke for my grandmother."
Mind you the lights are still out. So I pantomime my way over to the drinks, pull a coke from the refrigerated shelf, and take it over to the counter. She had previouslyt given me 4 quarters in change, so I hand over three quarters to pay for the can, and she gives me two dimes or a dime and a nickel back, and I kind of stand there, not realizing what went down because I expected the soda to cost more.
So then I thank her, and we're off again. Back the the golden minivan to travel more staTES.
In other news, I had decided of my own accord to go back to school and I needed to find an apartment. It seems like the school must have been off of 95, because visiting it (on foot, mind you) reminded me of driving to and from philly. Anyhow, I hadn't found a place, but I definitely found an area. It was "off of routes 1 and 37"
and it was a combination of Mount Vernon, and Frigate Bay. And Bird Rock. (Bird Rock Be The Ish, Yiggun)
And everyone wanted me to move out in a good way, and so everyone was anxious for me to find a good place to live so that my parents, mom in part., would be willing to let me leave.
tout.
She was picky about her diet, so finding refreshment at gas stations was dificult.
I stopped by a gas station, and it turned out that Holly from my old job worked there. I was getting a drink off of the shelf, and she called out to me and said
"Adam?"
"Yes?"
"Don't take this the wrong way...but..."
"But?"
"Has anyone ever told you that you were magic?"
And my stomach sank because in the dream, I guess I was sick of being so magic to all these women while all the time feeling like anti-magic to myself.
"Actually, yes. I know what you mean. Thank you."
And then she smiled and rang me up. I guess her day was made.
But peep THIS.
I left the store, and as I did, in comes Grandmama who has decided that she wants a coke for her diet. Whatever. So I go back in, and the lights are all off, and Holly has turned into Timi, who has already gone to the back of the store to do whatever it is that clerks do when the store is closed. Out she comes, and I startle her, and she gets a little annoyed/
"What are you DOING here?"
And I'm thinking: just a second ago, I was freakin MAGIC...LOL
"I need a coke for my grandmother."
Mind you the lights are still out. So I pantomime my way over to the drinks, pull a coke from the refrigerated shelf, and take it over to the counter. She had previouslyt given me 4 quarters in change, so I hand over three quarters to pay for the can, and she gives me two dimes or a dime and a nickel back, and I kind of stand there, not realizing what went down because I expected the soda to cost more.
So then I thank her, and we're off again. Back the the golden minivan to travel more staTES.
In other news, I had decided of my own accord to go back to school and I needed to find an apartment. It seems like the school must have been off of 95, because visiting it (on foot, mind you) reminded me of driving to and from philly. Anyhow, I hadn't found a place, but I definitely found an area. It was "off of routes 1 and 37"
and it was a combination of Mount Vernon, and Frigate Bay. And Bird Rock. (Bird Rock Be The Ish, Yiggun)
And everyone wanted me to move out in a good way, and so everyone was anxious for me to find a good place to live so that my parents, mom in part., would be willing to let me leave.
tout.
Friday, November 26, 2004
I went to some new school. It was a fairly small school with a close knit student body. So did Noah (my younger brother). He was still a sociology major. I was who I was. Whatever. Anyhow, wait...Christa was there too...I was, and Christia was, part of this community aide project. So was Denise. And our job was to prepare some kids for a recital that would mark the kickoff of an early summer after-school program that would continue into the school-less days of summer. Each memeber of the team would have to submit a budget for (4) four events, outtings, or activities to get the kids involved and active during the unschooled days of summer. I remember thinking that this was an excellent way to expose kids to positive pastimes and to gain exposure for my art, and the art of the people I know. I went to work immediately, puting together a cookout a-la-sound the alarm. I knew that it would be televised nation-wide and that it would mean instant support for future projects. I fail to mention that Oprah Winfrey was the master-mind behind all of this. But at one point, Oprah merged with Denise, and wound up looking like Madame Duvalle. Also, Oprah looked to be much older in this dream. Perhaps pushing sixty, or in her early sixties, and she was quite a deal thinner. And she had shorter curlier hair, and she was tall, and I recall her wearing a pair of stonewashed "dress jeans" and a white t-shirt with a light green one of those netted shawl/poncho/smock things that people wear these days.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
I was with my friends. Tiffany and Cornell standout. We were at an amusement park. I was trapped on the roller coaster, trying my best to climb up the rungs to no avail.
Before that we were at a "Christian" masquerade party where we wore ridiculous clothes (only in retrospect) and tried to impress each other with how cool we looked. I remember that Noah was there, and he caught on, and began to dress like us too. The party got old quickly, so I invited everyone back to my house (which was the mansion in Princeton). Mom was somewhere busy, and Dad was home alone. When I walked through the door, there were countless naked men layed passed out with very stiff erections. I was embarrassed, but I muttered something like: "must have been a stiff cock party or something". I don't even know what that means. My friends were shocked, but not revolted. As we continued to climb the stairs, we saw more and more naked men, and it became obvious that these guys were all gay, and I lost it. I flipped out. I started screaming for my dad at the top of my lungs. He came in wearing swim trunks and a polo shirt. He had a mixed drink in his hand, and I cussed him out strongly. Strongly. I ran all through his character and cut him down to the very ground. I was enraged like never before. I had abandonned all sense of grace and composure. I righteously began to uproot the place, smacking people in the face, insulting them and ordering them off of our property. I began to doubt my father. I can't overemphasize how crazy I was acting. When I got to my dad's room it was an all out bacchanal. There was no sex in his room though, and while everyone was naked, I remember seeing a naked black woman too, my dad was not. There were lesbians too. All of them were certainly "gay" And nobody was in the closet. Literally. Everytime I dream about that house, I dream about the closet, and this time, the closet was inconsequential. My dad kept apologizing that I had to see what I was seeing, but he never apologized for what was going on. Then, Cornell came in the room with some other guy he had gone to get, and it was clear that he was making himself available for ministry. I was just pissed. These twin girls who looked like they were twelve came up to my dad, and handed him a checkbook. I immediately thought that it was some sort of prostitution payment, but they paid him. Each had her own checkbook, and guess that each had her own amount. And they weren't twins, and maybe not even sisters, but they looked alike. And I got to glance at the checkbook, and she made the check out to my dad for $132.00 and my dad took the check and made her promise that "it would never happen again." I was so lost. I left in a huff, and on the way out, I saw two blond guys fondling each other. They seemed very happy and relaxed, and it made me mad. But their sex wasn't typical gay sex. Their penises weren't even erect (though one guy was clearly fondling the other's) and their penises looked weird. They were small and reddish pink, and shiny, like a burn victim's penis might look. I smacked one of them around and told them to get out, and they were both very hurt. Wait. Before I left my dad's room upstairs, I tried to get spiritual. When I had entered, I had kind of busted up the party, and I can't remember whether my dad asked them to leave or whether theyjust decided to leave because of my outburst (i think it was the latter).
Either way, when I saw that the girls were paying my dad, I wanted to make him hurt, so my plan was to announce that my dad was cancelling everyone's debt. And in fact, these two little girls had come from out of the closet! My plan was to strike a bargain with the people. Thinking that they were all base money-hungry partiers, I planned to tell them that if they would stop for a word of prayer, that they could have their "covercharge" waived. So to spite my father, I gathered everyone's attention, and asked "Who still owes my father some money?" I thought that everyone would say "I do!" But nobody did. Nobody else but the two little black girls (who were fully clothed in jeans, timbs, and hoodies by the way) owed him money. And now everyone was paid for. This pissed me off, so THAT'S why I went down stairs and came across the blondes making out. I was headed out the door to find my mom when she came in. She was puzzled, spoke to my father, and then went about her business. She said that she forgave my father, and that it wasn't a big deal. I was even more outraged. I repeated his list of charges to her, and finally, it made her cry, and seeing her cry outwardly made me feel better. I finaly felt justified.
THAT'S when I had the dream part about being on the tracks of the roller coaster.
**The septa train was also in this dream. I think I finally understand this to mean that "all my dreams are connected"
Before that we were at a "Christian" masquerade party where we wore ridiculous clothes (only in retrospect) and tried to impress each other with how cool we looked. I remember that Noah was there, and he caught on, and began to dress like us too. The party got old quickly, so I invited everyone back to my house (which was the mansion in Princeton). Mom was somewhere busy, and Dad was home alone. When I walked through the door, there were countless naked men layed passed out with very stiff erections. I was embarrassed, but I muttered something like: "must have been a stiff cock party or something". I don't even know what that means. My friends were shocked, but not revolted. As we continued to climb the stairs, we saw more and more naked men, and it became obvious that these guys were all gay, and I lost it. I flipped out. I started screaming for my dad at the top of my lungs. He came in wearing swim trunks and a polo shirt. He had a mixed drink in his hand, and I cussed him out strongly. Strongly. I ran all through his character and cut him down to the very ground. I was enraged like never before. I had abandonned all sense of grace and composure. I righteously began to uproot the place, smacking people in the face, insulting them and ordering them off of our property. I began to doubt my father. I can't overemphasize how crazy I was acting. When I got to my dad's room it was an all out bacchanal. There was no sex in his room though, and while everyone was naked, I remember seeing a naked black woman too, my dad was not. There were lesbians too. All of them were certainly "gay" And nobody was in the closet. Literally. Everytime I dream about that house, I dream about the closet, and this time, the closet was inconsequential. My dad kept apologizing that I had to see what I was seeing, but he never apologized for what was going on. Then, Cornell came in the room with some other guy he had gone to get, and it was clear that he was making himself available for ministry. I was just pissed. These twin girls who looked like they were twelve came up to my dad, and handed him a checkbook. I immediately thought that it was some sort of prostitution payment, but they paid him. Each had her own checkbook, and guess that each had her own amount. And they weren't twins, and maybe not even sisters, but they looked alike. And I got to glance at the checkbook, and she made the check out to my dad for $132.00 and my dad took the check and made her promise that "it would never happen again." I was so lost. I left in a huff, and on the way out, I saw two blond guys fondling each other. They seemed very happy and relaxed, and it made me mad. But their sex wasn't typical gay sex. Their penises weren't even erect (though one guy was clearly fondling the other's) and their penises looked weird. They were small and reddish pink, and shiny, like a burn victim's penis might look. I smacked one of them around and told them to get out, and they were both very hurt. Wait. Before I left my dad's room upstairs, I tried to get spiritual. When I had entered, I had kind of busted up the party, and I can't remember whether my dad asked them to leave or whether theyjust decided to leave because of my outburst (i think it was the latter).
Either way, when I saw that the girls were paying my dad, I wanted to make him hurt, so my plan was to announce that my dad was cancelling everyone's debt. And in fact, these two little girls had come from out of the closet! My plan was to strike a bargain with the people. Thinking that they were all base money-hungry partiers, I planned to tell them that if they would stop for a word of prayer, that they could have their "covercharge" waived. So to spite my father, I gathered everyone's attention, and asked "Who still owes my father some money?" I thought that everyone would say "I do!" But nobody did. Nobody else but the two little black girls (who were fully clothed in jeans, timbs, and hoodies by the way) owed him money. And now everyone was paid for. This pissed me off, so THAT'S why I went down stairs and came across the blondes making out. I was headed out the door to find my mom when she came in. She was puzzled, spoke to my father, and then went about her business. She said that she forgave my father, and that it wasn't a big deal. I was even more outraged. I repeated his list of charges to her, and finally, it made her cry, and seeing her cry outwardly made me feel better. I finaly felt justified.
THAT'S when I had the dream part about being on the tracks of the roller coaster.
**The septa train was also in this dream. I think I finally understand this to mean that "all my dreams are connected"
Monday, November 22, 2004
For the first time, I'm not afraid to go public with this. Perhaps it's the best thing. I don't feel bad about it anymore either. Those two are totally different things. In other words, I no longer feel like it's wrong or disobedient to post this:
Two years ago, around the beginning (if not on the eve of) the war in Iraq, I had a dream that "The President" (not specifically Bush) sent Colin Powell to Israel, and that he was murdered there by Israelis (not Palestinians). His corpse was put on display in a glass case, and televised for the international community to see.
I thought it odd that my dream was vague about who the president was, but was specific about Powell. I found it odd that on the eve of a war with Iraq, that I was dreaming about Israel. I also found it odd, based on my limited film-given knowledge of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that it was the proper Israelis, and not the militant Palestinians who had killed Powell. And the glass coffin boggles my mind. And perhaps the worst part of the dream is that I got the feeling that The President knew that this was going to happen.
I've kept watch for this sign for two years, and it's hardly been far from my mind. I resisted the temptation to hunt Powell down to tell him my dream. I never felt compelled to. When I dreamt it, it felt like a glimpse, into the certain future, but not as something about which I'm supposed to warn anyone. I've had those dreams before, and they are usually quite frutiful. But these are not. They are portentious. There's not much I can do about them. I've had others like this too...but this one seems to be the flagship dream...the dream to prove the other dreams. And nod that Powell is resigning, I'm on my P's and Q's. There doesn't appear to be much time left for anyone to be sent anywhere.
The Signs Of The Times.
Two years ago, around the beginning (if not on the eve of) the war in Iraq, I had a dream that "The President" (not specifically Bush) sent Colin Powell to Israel, and that he was murdered there by Israelis (not Palestinians). His corpse was put on display in a glass case, and televised for the international community to see.
I thought it odd that my dream was vague about who the president was, but was specific about Powell. I found it odd that on the eve of a war with Iraq, that I was dreaming about Israel. I also found it odd, based on my limited film-given knowledge of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that it was the proper Israelis, and not the militant Palestinians who had killed Powell. And the glass coffin boggles my mind. And perhaps the worst part of the dream is that I got the feeling that The President knew that this was going to happen.
I've kept watch for this sign for two years, and it's hardly been far from my mind. I resisted the temptation to hunt Powell down to tell him my dream. I never felt compelled to. When I dreamt it, it felt like a glimpse, into the certain future, but not as something about which I'm supposed to warn anyone. I've had those dreams before, and they are usually quite frutiful. But these are not. They are portentious. There's not much I can do about them. I've had others like this too...but this one seems to be the flagship dream...the dream to prove the other dreams. And nod that Powell is resigning, I'm on my P's and Q's. There doesn't appear to be much time left for anyone to be sent anywhere.
The Signs Of The Times.
This is hard to explain. First I have to point out that it happened all night. I had the main part of the dream first, then I moved to the couch, and had the rest of the dream. With each indecision, I would wake up, switch sides of the couch, and continue to dream.
Aslan was there. Aslan was the motivating force of my dream. He gave me a bottle of healing water. He reassured me that all would be well. Aslan is a great Lion. He's an Awesome presence. He inhabits the air around Him. You can't help but trust Aslan at his word. This is scattered. So there was a some huge sin that was going to envelope the whole world. It was bad. Of course, I had to stop it. Me and my family, and my friends. And there wasn't much that we could do. We were holed up in an Apartment in Harlem, and the kids were with me, and the evil kept sending his servants to threaten us. Each servant would arrive at the door, threaten us to leave them alone (i.e. not to pray, because opur weapon was PRAYER)and each time, one of the servants would harm themselves, usually by cutting off one of their own limps or digits. They did this in the presence of the kids to scare them at the initial shock of the act, but for us to iterate the gravity of their cause. 'If I'm willing to cut off my own finger, imagine the hurt I'll put on you." Well this happend once or twice, and it was very disturbing to the kids, and for some reason, when someone knocked, we had to open the door. We couldn't just ignore the knocking. So knowing that this would keep happening, the next time a guy came and cut off his finger, I snatched him inside the house (they came in twos) and locked his partner out. And I didn't give him time to protest. Don't forget that this wasn't the evil himself, but was one of his own trapped servants. So, on questionless faith, I poured a bit of the healing water into a clear basin and stuck the servant's ring finger into the water. I said something like "Now, see which of our masters is true." And his finger was bleeding and the blood clouded the water at first, and then the water was clear again, and his finger was whole. I almost hand't realized that the miracle was complete so fast. It took all of two seconds. And the servant began to praise God imeediately (he hadn't truly wanted to cut off his finger) and he vowed himeslf to us, and wanted to stay with us, but I sent him back to his master. He was better use to us thwarting the further attempts to harass us. I assured him that soon the war would be over, and that my Master would triumph in the end. So off he went. Then, Meghan showed up with a bow and arrow, and was of great help to us. She is a prayer WARRIOR. And at one time, she and I had to venture out to the evil, and we had to pretend to be husband and wife. So I kissed her, and that was enough to prove it. Soon, the battle was over, and we had won, but in order to fully seal the victory, we had to speak the Life-Giving-Word, and as it turns out, Al and Maria Fortezzo were the unsuspecting keepers of the Word. They didn't even know its power. So we had to hunt them down and drag them out of vacation (they were reluctant to comply because we didn't give them any explanation) and when they arrived, we begged them to use the word. Al didn't even know what it was for, and assured us that we must be mistaken (self worth issues) and then we explained it...and he was like "Wait, you mean (and then he spoke the word which I can't remember, but began with a B, had two Z's an L and an M among other letters) and as soon as he spoke it, with no ceremony or pretense, all was sealed. Now that I think of it, I believe the battle was being waged in their own home. (See in reality, I am writing this from their home as we housesit for them) So their living room (but the place was still in Harlem) turned into God's temple, and there was Gold and marble all over the place and candelabras and podiums to boot. And there were two wedding rings on the ground, and Aslan appeared, and said that in order to fulfil al righteousness, and honesty, that I had to really marry Meghan. Marrying Meghan would have been a shock to me, and would have taken some getting-used-to. However, Meghan, by now, had turned into a 19 year old girl from P.G. county who looked like she was 15. This is where the dream turns to focus on me. The rest of the dream, which involved about six wakings, was about my fight with myself and my family and Aslan and everyone else. The idea was that in our fight, we had pretneded to be married, and since ours was a righteous fight, we had to be married. The war was already finished, but in a weird existential way, if I refused to marry this new 15 year old bride, I would be refusing God's providence. For me to say that marrying the girl was "Wrong" was to say that obeying the same Aslan who had just delivered a victory, was wrong. Which cosmically negates the power by which he won. So I had to reconcile myself with this girl who was ghetto, and thin, and homely, and LOUD, and abrasive and annoying. She was very athletic, and very active, and outspoken, and she was covered in tattoos of cartoon characters...they were blogger colors, LOL dep blue and orange. I remember one was of droopy dog, and goofy...it was so unattractive. She was just everything I didn't like. She could, however play a WONDERFUL classical piano. It was flawless. THAT, I found attractive, simply because it proved a certain discipline and intuition, and culture, and analysis that I wanted in a partner. But other than that, it was a no-go. But I had to. And everyone under the Son pleaded with me. I had my cell phone in the dream, and I wanted to call a friend and seek advice, but I couldn't find a single friend who would tell me the truth. Only my family would tell me the harsh truth, and of course, it was my mother who was the HNIC of getting me to marry this green sprout of a girl. I don't know how the girl felt. She kept advertising herself though. It was bizzarre. She didn't seem to mind. I guess because by then, I was some sort of a hero. But I kept thinking of all the women I wanted to marry, and how hopeless I'd be if I married this girl. And then I also doubted Aslan. It wasn't really doubt though. I thought he had been mistaken. My protest was "But we never had sex!" I suspected that maybe Aslan thought that we had been physically intimate, and so wanted us to be joined officially. Well here's THAT rub. What I understood, was that Aslan indeed considered the kiss as something that joined us. (As I wrote that, THUNDER sounded, LOL) But yeah...a kiss is enough. The farce must become real. And for Aslan to have been mistaken was out of the picture. He was Aslan. So after much ado about nothing, I took my space in the sanctuary as this girl's husband. (Mind you, as soon as Al spoke the Life-Giving-Word, we were all transformed to this temple where among other things, the wedding was supposed to take place...so all my marriage drama unfolded there as well. People were waiting for me to make a decision, but I was given 6 hours to think about it. I think I made my decision after 3. By 3 hours, I had thought enough for a thousand men, but I hadn't yet been able to consult anyone. At best, I was able to leave a message with Tiffany...so waiting the extra 3 hours was simply in order to get a hold of someone else to talk to...which, when followed through to its logical conclusion is another slap in Aslan's face. So with my'MOST HOLY FAITH', I took my place at the altar. It should be noted, that because I woke up so many times, I began to catch on that this was just a dream...but I wasn't sure. But that had a strange effect on me. Instead of making me fearless and capricious, not caring about the outcome, I was made aware of how fleeting the moment was, and that I would HAVE to make my choice ASAP, and that it would have to be a good true choice, and that if I woke up for good before I made that choice, that I would have betrayed the people of that dream-world. So I gathered my Most Holy Faith, and took my place. And it was all done. It was finished. The whole room sucked into one point, and became an imprint on a small white, handmade square disc. The disc had a hole in the the top like a medallion. On it were an equilateral cross (like an overturned 'X'), a crudely drawn icthus, and unless my memory fails me, this whole dream was represented by a smal rough square outline on the disc. It was as if The whole dream vanished into a makring on my disc. There was a purple ribbon through the disc in the hole at the top. As if my decision, and the whole dream, was a test scenario, and the small rough-hewn square-within-a-square was my grade, or merit badge. I smiled at this. I had also apparently earned two others. (But what had I "earned"?) That's a question for another blog. No analysis here. Just worship.
Aslan was there. Aslan was the motivating force of my dream. He gave me a bottle of healing water. He reassured me that all would be well. Aslan is a great Lion. He's an Awesome presence. He inhabits the air around Him. You can't help but trust Aslan at his word. This is scattered. So there was a some huge sin that was going to envelope the whole world. It was bad. Of course, I had to stop it. Me and my family, and my friends. And there wasn't much that we could do. We were holed up in an Apartment in Harlem, and the kids were with me, and the evil kept sending his servants to threaten us. Each servant would arrive at the door, threaten us to leave them alone (i.e. not to pray, because opur weapon was PRAYER)and each time, one of the servants would harm themselves, usually by cutting off one of their own limps or digits. They did this in the presence of the kids to scare them at the initial shock of the act, but for us to iterate the gravity of their cause. 'If I'm willing to cut off my own finger, imagine the hurt I'll put on you." Well this happend once or twice, and it was very disturbing to the kids, and for some reason, when someone knocked, we had to open the door. We couldn't just ignore the knocking. So knowing that this would keep happening, the next time a guy came and cut off his finger, I snatched him inside the house (they came in twos) and locked his partner out. And I didn't give him time to protest. Don't forget that this wasn't the evil himself, but was one of his own trapped servants. So, on questionless faith, I poured a bit of the healing water into a clear basin and stuck the servant's ring finger into the water. I said something like "Now, see which of our masters is true." And his finger was bleeding and the blood clouded the water at first, and then the water was clear again, and his finger was whole. I almost hand't realized that the miracle was complete so fast. It took all of two seconds. And the servant began to praise God imeediately (he hadn't truly wanted to cut off his finger) and he vowed himeslf to us, and wanted to stay with us, but I sent him back to his master. He was better use to us thwarting the further attempts to harass us. I assured him that soon the war would be over, and that my Master would triumph in the end. So off he went. Then, Meghan showed up with a bow and arrow, and was of great help to us. She is a prayer WARRIOR. And at one time, she and I had to venture out to the evil, and we had to pretend to be husband and wife. So I kissed her, and that was enough to prove it. Soon, the battle was over, and we had won, but in order to fully seal the victory, we had to speak the Life-Giving-Word, and as it turns out, Al and Maria Fortezzo were the unsuspecting keepers of the Word. They didn't even know its power. So we had to hunt them down and drag them out of vacation (they were reluctant to comply because we didn't give them any explanation) and when they arrived, we begged them to use the word. Al didn't even know what it was for, and assured us that we must be mistaken (self worth issues) and then we explained it...and he was like "Wait, you mean (and then he spoke the word which I can't remember, but began with a B, had two Z's an L and an M among other letters) and as soon as he spoke it, with no ceremony or pretense, all was sealed. Now that I think of it, I believe the battle was being waged in their own home. (See in reality, I am writing this from their home as we housesit for them) So their living room (but the place was still in Harlem) turned into God's temple, and there was Gold and marble all over the place and candelabras and podiums to boot. And there were two wedding rings on the ground, and Aslan appeared, and said that in order to fulfil al righteousness, and honesty, that I had to really marry Meghan. Marrying Meghan would have been a shock to me, and would have taken some getting-used-to. However, Meghan, by now, had turned into a 19 year old girl from P.G. county who looked like she was 15. This is where the dream turns to focus on me. The rest of the dream, which involved about six wakings, was about my fight with myself and my family and Aslan and everyone else. The idea was that in our fight, we had pretneded to be married, and since ours was a righteous fight, we had to be married. The war was already finished, but in a weird existential way, if I refused to marry this new 15 year old bride, I would be refusing God's providence. For me to say that marrying the girl was "Wrong" was to say that obeying the same Aslan who had just delivered a victory, was wrong. Which cosmically negates the power by which he won. So I had to reconcile myself with this girl who was ghetto, and thin, and homely, and LOUD, and abrasive and annoying. She was very athletic, and very active, and outspoken, and she was covered in tattoos of cartoon characters...they were blogger colors, LOL dep blue and orange. I remember one was of droopy dog, and goofy...it was so unattractive. She was just everything I didn't like. She could, however play a WONDERFUL classical piano. It was flawless. THAT, I found attractive, simply because it proved a certain discipline and intuition, and culture, and analysis that I wanted in a partner. But other than that, it was a no-go. But I had to. And everyone under the Son pleaded with me. I had my cell phone in the dream, and I wanted to call a friend and seek advice, but I couldn't find a single friend who would tell me the truth. Only my family would tell me the harsh truth, and of course, it was my mother who was the HNIC of getting me to marry this green sprout of a girl. I don't know how the girl felt. She kept advertising herself though. It was bizzarre. She didn't seem to mind. I guess because by then, I was some sort of a hero. But I kept thinking of all the women I wanted to marry, and how hopeless I'd be if I married this girl. And then I also doubted Aslan. It wasn't really doubt though. I thought he had been mistaken. My protest was "But we never had sex!" I suspected that maybe Aslan thought that we had been physically intimate, and so wanted us to be joined officially. Well here's THAT rub. What I understood, was that Aslan indeed considered the kiss as something that joined us. (As I wrote that, THUNDER sounded, LOL) But yeah...a kiss is enough. The farce must become real. And for Aslan to have been mistaken was out of the picture. He was Aslan. So after much ado about nothing, I took my space in the sanctuary as this girl's husband. (Mind you, as soon as Al spoke the Life-Giving-Word, we were all transformed to this temple where among other things, the wedding was supposed to take place...so all my marriage drama unfolded there as well. People were waiting for me to make a decision, but I was given 6 hours to think about it. I think I made my decision after 3. By 3 hours, I had thought enough for a thousand men, but I hadn't yet been able to consult anyone. At best, I was able to leave a message with Tiffany...so waiting the extra 3 hours was simply in order to get a hold of someone else to talk to...which, when followed through to its logical conclusion is another slap in Aslan's face. So with my'MOST HOLY FAITH', I took my place at the altar. It should be noted, that because I woke up so many times, I began to catch on that this was just a dream...but I wasn't sure. But that had a strange effect on me. Instead of making me fearless and capricious, not caring about the outcome, I was made aware of how fleeting the moment was, and that I would HAVE to make my choice ASAP, and that it would have to be a good true choice, and that if I woke up for good before I made that choice, that I would have betrayed the people of that dream-world. So I gathered my Most Holy Faith, and took my place. And it was all done. It was finished. The whole room sucked into one point, and became an imprint on a small white, handmade square disc. The disc had a hole in the the top like a medallion. On it were an equilateral cross (like an overturned 'X'), a crudely drawn icthus, and unless my memory fails me, this whole dream was represented by a smal rough square outline on the disc. It was as if The whole dream vanished into a makring on my disc. There was a purple ribbon through the disc in the hole at the top. As if my decision, and the whole dream, was a test scenario, and the small rough-hewn square-within-a-square was my grade, or merit badge. I smiled at this. I had also apparently earned two others. (But what had I "earned"?) That's a question for another blog. No analysis here. Just worship.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Lola showed up. She had lost much more weight. Her hair was in a Susan B. Anthony bun. She was in town for research (not for me) but she kept hanging around. I got the impression that all this time she has been concealing feelings for me. Lucky me. But in the dream (as in real life) I had taken her at her previous word, and moved on. Unfortunately, I saw how her interest began to have an affect on me. It was strange. Why was she in my house? What was she researching? And if she plans to marry the Nigerian, why was she in MY face so much?
