weekend

i slept in my band shirts and wore them underneath everything because (believe it or not) i had a dress code this weekend. i did it anyway, and wondered if i have it in me. my body was there most of this weekend, i heard a lot of good things, but my poor mind kept wandering around the world... around my life... there's a handful of them that keep me grounded.
and i wonder
if maybe i don't need a title to be anything important.
i was never one for dress codes if i didn't make them up myself.

i named my future apartment the exodus house, and it rings of everything i'm dreaming of... save for the dreams i had this weekend. i scribbled them down on loose pieces of paper when i woke up, and then finished throughout the morning when they'd slip back into my mind... so what we have here is direct from paper to type:


morning of nov. 5th:
I had a dream we climbed a stairwell (at the same time but not together). I had a dream you led me to a secret cave above the city, and in my dream you led me up a broken ladder. I had a dream we had to escape, but I was already gone. In my dream you tried to let us escape by going up... up and out from the ladder to the sky...
out to the sky
out and away from everything
and I saw the ladder was broken
and you didn't know even though you saw it, too.
But in my dream I went first anyways because you needed to be needed
and you needed to decide
and I was already fine
and you were the left behind.
In my dream I already knew what I was doing: I climbed the ladder anyway.
I fell.
You fell.
And it was all over.

morning of nov. 6th
Last night I had a dream you were him and she was me.
Last night I dreamt her life and his were all the same as they are when I'm awake (but you were him and she was me) and I heard the last message she left on his phone. She had too much on her plate but it was her life (in both sleeping and waking); in my dream she wasn't strong anymore, and he heard it all and gave up. He didn't love her anymore.
...the walls were red...
...and then I was five...
...and then I was ten...
...and then I woke up.

morning of nov. 7th
Was the previous night a sort of metaphor of a dream of the near past, and this last night loose recollection the present?
Then what of the near future?
I wondered these things when I went to sleep last night, and I drifted into my subconscious wondering if I would have a dream revealing the near future. I'm sure there's plenty of other people who wonder the same things.... don't we all, though?

I slept soundly last night.
I do not recall what I dreamt.


beneath it all, my champions of music lived along with me. a friend at school saw me strolling through campus and asked what band of the day was.

lessons learned:
things don't have to be on the surface to be real.
dreams do not tell the future, and if they do, you forget them as soon as you wake up, so there's no time to dwell in the dreamworld.
the things we don't see are more often than not more real than the things we do.

night.