Echo

last night’s dream featured an appearance from the man who’s more familiar to me than time. except this time, he appeared as my friend, max, an actor with an electrifying smile i haven’t seen in almost a decade. max had the most amazing smile–it was like a disco ball lighting up a dark room. but he was a really quiet guy, kind of strange. and he used to call me and not talk, so we would have these long, uncomfortable silences. he once gave me a ride to the airport at 6 in the morning. on his birthday. and my friends swore to me that a guy wouldn’t do that unless he likes you. but he told me he was really shy, and in terms of initiating anything, i’m very shy, so at the end of the day, neither of us was willing (able?) to initiate anything. or maybe we both intuitively knew we weren’t romantically compatible. i think over the years, life’s been hard for max. i once wrote him an email to say happy birthday, and he wrote back a strange email about how he doesn’t know much about this world, but he knows that i am a really good person, and there aren’t a lot of truly good people in this world. it made me think there was something going on in his life that he wasn’t willing to talk about. even recently, we connected over facebook and he mentioned that the last year has been really tough but didn’t go into details. he was always like that. a beautiful smile hiding a dark enigma.

so in my dream, i ran into max and he looked the way he did, 10 years ago, with that same smile. but i knew it wasn’t really him, it was the guy from my dreams, and when we hugged, it felt like home. my heart cried in relief. he said he’d spent this time apart getting things ready, and had finally bought a home for us. that he hadn’t moved in yet, because he needed to find me first, so that we could start our new lives in this new home together.

he took me to it and it was a duplex by the beach, but the construction wasn’t completely finished. you had to use the communal bathrooms outside. it was dusk, the sky a rich blue, those few moments before night where it’s not dark, but there’s a complete absence of light. i didn’t want to go into the bathroom because it was crowded, i was wearing socks, and it didn’t look clean. so i turned around to go back to the house, but it was empty. he was gone again.

i just want someone to come home to, someone i can fall asleep with his arms around me, my head pressed against his chest as the rhythm of his heartbeat lulls me safely into sleep.

it’s been a long time since i’ve really been able to sleep. every angle of every minute, feels like, searching, seeking, waiting. discovering new things and saving them, to share with him. but i come home, and he’s not here. just echoes…and the night.

and then that struggle, to finally jump over that dark chasm into a sleep world that holds not sanctuary and repose, but more cryptic strangers in a forest offering clues to finding him if i just give them something in return. and i always do.

people always say i’m single-minded when it comes to purpose. and this purpose has drawn me so far out that perhaps i am closer to home than when i started. i always believed home was a person for me, a place existing in the space between two people connected beyond time.

i’m so tired. i can feel my insides buckling. maybe the time has come to stop searching for home. maybe it’s time that home comes searching for me.

Observation

Seattle does a lot of following. Nothing too overt, but they keep you on their radar while pretending they don’t notice you.Is it just their (awkward and cautious) social style, or is all following of women by strange men across the boards alarming? Then, to toss more angles into the debate, I happened to find this wikipedia article:

Lone Wolf (Trait):

A lone wolf is a wolf that lives by itself rather than with others as part of a pack. Lone wolves are typically old specimens driven from their pack or young adults in search of new territory. Instead of openly challenging the leadership of the pack leaders, most young wolves between the ages of 1 and 4 years leave their family in order to search for a pack of their own. Some wolves will simply remain lone wolves; as such, lone wolves are usually stronger, more aggressive and far more dangerous than the average wolf that is a member of a pack. They have difficulty hunting, as wolves’ favorite prey are large ungulates, and it is nearly impossible for a wolf to bring one down by itself (hunting on their own can be done, as lone wolves are naturally stronger and some specialize in hunting moose on their own). Instead, they will hunt smaller animals and scavenge. Sometimes, a lone wolf will find another lone wolf of the opposite sex, and the two will start a new pack.

I wonder if I’m drawing lone wolves out of the woodwork...

Are you a young, virile wolf between 1 and 4 years old? Are you looking to start a new pack with a sexy lone wolf of the opposite sex? Come find me, by the ungulates…waiting breathlessly for your cooperation.

How I wish you could see the potential
The potential of you and me
It’s like a book elegantly bound but…
in a language that you can’t read just yet

–death cab for cutie

i’ve never missed you more than i did tonight. in the shimmering pools of their eyes, i reached for a glimpse of your reflection.

perhaps the fact that the sound of distant train whistles always sends me to another dimension, one heavy with safety, innocence and peace, is what should tell me that i’m already tamed.

whenever i hear distant train whistles, or the low drone from an 18-wheeler’s wheels on asphalt as he motors cross country, i feel the sounds cutting through fog, somewhere, where it’s 3am.

today’s mood: laconic melancholy

brian told me once that i’m someone who needs a certain amount of time to myself to be melancholy. that it’s just a part of who i am, something that i need. nothing for people to be alarmed by. i guess there’s an emotional richness to being melancholy. it’s probably necessary to give me moments of reflection. regardless, i’m having a melancholy day.

on the taxi ride home i got a very nice, friendly taxi driver. but after this weekend, i didn’t feel like small-talking. i wanted to be left alone to the echoes of my mind. he tried to start a conversation about my vacation, but i gave him very short answers, polite still, but reserved. i realized that i do this. there’s a population in this world of people who think of me as a very quiet, serious, shy person. and that’s because on the days they’ve met me, or whatever side of me i consistently show them, they’ve encountered a very quiet, reserved person. like this taxi driver, these people have never seen me at a party lighting it up, have never seen me in a dark corner having a soul-searching heart-to-heart, have never seen me in work mode getting it done, have never seen me when i’m in warm, bubbly miss helpy-helpy mode. if they saw these other sides of me, they would probably feel like they’re experiencing a different person. but it’s all me, just different sides, different elements becoming dominant.

in regards to this driver, his entire experience of me builds the idea of a quiet, private person.

a polite person. but a blank.

one that may or may not exist.

i like that though. sometimes, i don’t want to be remembered.

sometimes, i wish i could forget.

a couple of nights ago, i had a dream.

i walked into a moonlit afterworld of deep blues and shadows. the world was rich and beautiful, but everything was in disorder, in need of being put back together like pieces of a puzzle that have been jumbled and left in neglect. nothing was functional. the city was lifeless. abstract. lacking meaning and soul.

the school in particular was in shambles. the children had nowhere to go. i sat down and was overwhelmed with sadness, but i wouldn’t let myself collapse. i had to be strong, there was so much work to do. it was all so much to put back together, even before we could start creating what’s new and start moving forward. i stood up, gathering inner strength for the task, feeling overwhelmed but preparing to face what needed to be done when two men approached, surveying the scene.

we have to get this place running again, i said to them.

the cold wind whispered and the moon hung low. it was late. the man on the left put his things down and led me towards a sheltered spot. i followed reluctantly, untrustingly. we laid down, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me as he gently stroked my hair. he kissed the top of my head tenderly, and i let go, closing my eyes, pulled under by a deep wave of exhaustion. i suddenly had an incredible feeling of safety. of all that is familiar. of being home.

it’s him, i realize. the one who echoes of a memory before time. the one i’ve been meeting in various recurring dreams my entire life, even in childhood, his ghost appearing then disappearing to the sound of distant train whistles cutting through midnight fog.

don’t worry, he whispered into my ear as his silent, shadowed friend stood guard. just rest for now. we’ll put everything back the way it should be.

between the slow, deep rhythm of his heart, and his tender stroking of my hair, i felt myself melt, letting go of worry and drifting away…back to a place where i am safe.

*****
when i woke up in the morning, i got progressively more melancholy. there were traces of him everywhere, more real than the strangers i was surrounded with. who is this man who haunts my dreams? this man more familiar to me than time? why does he give me so much solace in the shadows when i need it most, yet become an endless illusion in waking life? i strive so hard with so much faith to reach for him in this world, so that i can bring him out of the dream world into reality. but is it possible?

then i remember something. how, when i learned how to breathe underwater, it changed my life. my entire approach and perspective of the possibilities of life. maybe if i can take something i recognize in a dream and find it in the real world, i can basically show myself how to cross tangible things over from dreams to reality. i’ll create a new level of freedom. of reality. of destiny.

i need you so much closer…

the dream has been in the background of my mind all weekend. as i was riding the taxi home in my laconic mood, i remembered there’s a david gray song from one of his older albums i used to love but which i haven’t listened to in a while. found it on my ipod, album – lost songs. david’s a fellow old soul gemini. love the expression of his universe. realized how beautiful and fitting the song is for exactly what i’m feeling and experiencing lately, everything my book is about, especially how the symbology of a deep blue flame burning through shadows is one i always see in myself when i close my eyes.

perhaps this day is about how i lost this song, so that i could find it again when i needed it most.

this song is dedicated to you:

I went looking for someone I left behind
Yeah, but no one, just a stranger did I find
I never noticed, hadn’t seen it as it grew
The void between us where the flame turns blue

Through the lemon trees the diamonds of light
Break in splinters on the pages where I write
That if I lost you, I dont know what I’d do
Burn forever where the flame turns blue
Yeah if I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do
Burn forever where the flame turns blue

-david gray, flame turns blue