18/07/2005
Dream of Asphyxia
I'm dreaming, and for the first time in a few months it's a dream with a story and characters and not just abstract images of fires and hands in the dark.
I'm in an apartment in Beit Zait, a small village in the outskirts of Jerusalem. I've never lived there before, but my first boyfriend kept an apartment there while we were 18. It's not the same place though. It's a lot darker and somber, the fade yellow light barely make the room visible, it's dark outside. There are two men before me, nude, toned, though one of them's Japanese and the other's European they look a bit like brothers. I'm not naked, this is a very cold scene, I don't know any of them, they are flash, meat, they have no voice of their own. They are not gagged but they are blindfolded. I tie their wrists behind their backs and they ankles. They curl into fetal position, they become smaller, like babies, but still adults and masculine, the room's hot and sweaty. I put both on the men in a large wooden tub, like a large oversize bucket that's stand in the middle of the room. It's full of light brown liquid that looks like Earl Gray tea, which is about room temperature. It is their womb, while they are in there, they are not-even-born yet. They are save and protected. They will be born again, into something else, something that's mine.
At some point it occur to me that they might not be able to breath under water that this game, which is half about sex and half about birth might have turned into a game of death. I panic, I drain the water, one of the men, the Asian one is OK, he slowly breaths as air kick in his lunges, like a fish being taken out of water. The other man is not, he just lay there, cold and bluish, dead.
Me and the other guy carry it's body outside, we climb one of the tall community buildings in the entry to the village and we throw the body off the roof, hoping this will be written down as suicide. It's still warm and sweaty the air smells sour, like vinegar or urine and bugs are flying around, shiny in the light of yellow street lights.
I go back into the Village, I enter my sister's house and looking to be around mass of people, to forget this, I feel like if I'll just push this out of my mind, it would just disappear, "like in a dream" I think to myself "like in a dream" their house is packed with people, wondering around, music's playing like some party's going on, my sister and her boyfriend cuddle on the couch with a blanket over them, watching television.
Then I hear a scream, someone calling me to come quick, it's coming from the other side of the village, from where I live. The voice is that of my Ex boyfriend, apparently in the dream we are still together. I leave everything and run there, like I did so many times when we were together, leaving interesting conversations with other people or leaving a painting half way through or living a thought I was having or a movie I was watching cause I knew he was angry and wanted to got on his good sides, this feels so much like how I use to leave stuff, just the same way, whenever my mother was angry. For both of them, I deserted a life for the sake of another's will. That shaky feeling of not existing anymore just cause they might stop loving me.
I run the whole way, when I get there I casualty ask "what's wrong" and he say "I think there's a problem in the back yard, can you go and have a look" He's obviously being to me, and I know it, I know that he knows that there's that body there, all blue and broken and that he's looking for my first reaction to it, to see if I'm really surprised or not. The fact that he lies to me shakes me beyond anything, beyond the fact that there's a dead body in the yard, beyond the fact that he might be angry and mistrusting toward me. I know that I'll have to fake it, that I'll have to be a real good actress on that one. That I'll have to change beyond recognition just to match his expectation, just to be as surprised and as shocked as he wants me to be. I'm walking casualty, not too fast into the back yard, but inside I feel like I'm suffocation, I feel like I can't breath.
I wake up too late, my eyes look bloodshot in the bedroom mirror. I feel disoriented and sweaty, and very wet, I masturbate 3 or 4 times without thinking about anything before I get myself out of bad.
15:55 Permalink | Comments (5) | Email this | Tags: SEX
Comments
Thanks Lilly
My weblog is working fine now, thanks for your email and effort. Lite text on a darker background is the right method in art. I enlarged my text , trying out a larger size for this type of templet design. I hope to post my text art insights soon. I know why some suffer reading certain types of text methods. I hope you will advance with me in my art knowledge......."
my weblog http://exploration.blogspirit.com/
Hope to have some of my pictures online soon.
Posted by: michael | 19/07/2005
that's an a-fucking-mazing dream. very interesting.
it's just so interesting and intense to read it.
very few time can i see people that are dreaming dreams in the deep level of so many detailes and symbols as i do.
will you paint some of your dreams maybe?
Posted by: Yaronimus | 19/07/2005
Michael - glad it worked out for you, I'll visit your blog soon and see what's new.
Yaronimus- I did a 3 drawing in the last sketchbook (it's done, I started a new one last Friday which already got 2 and a half new drawings) based on my phoenix dream, which I wrote about in here a few months ago. I don't know about this dream, it's the first impotent dream I had and could remember since that last one a few months ago.
The whole thing was like one massive anxiety attack so I don't know if messing around with it past that small drawing that comes with the blog entry's such a hot idea, I'll have to see if this keep scratching some corner of my mind enough to deal with it.
The odd thing was that it was the first time in ages I thought about how horrid a lot of parts of being with my ex were, and then, a couple of hours later I got some e-mail from him that just made me half insane or the rest of the day.
Posted by: Lilly | 19/07/2005
That’s one odd dream alright!
But hey look at it this way; at least it wasn’t you that ended up dead, and hopefully European guy didn’t look like me :)
Posted by: Nor | 19/07/2005
i think that thinking and making art of your dreams is a way to deal with the anxiety.
by the way - that small drawing is good, and because of the design i thought it was an album cover.
i think that it will take time untill you really accept the breakup with your ex, and i i meen in the sub concious level. wounds are to be healed, bones to be mended.
Posted by: Yaronimus | 19/07/2005
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