� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
I've also noticed that I've begun to record any dreams I remember in here. More so than I used to and I think I should start recording them elsewhere. Unless they have some obvious relevance to what is going on in my life or to what I'm consciously feeling or thinking at the time, I won't donate a whole entry to them. So, this will probably be the last where I solely talk about dreams.
I was going to relate two dreams I've had in the past week, but all the sudden I can't remember enough of last night's to merit mentioning it, so I will just mention the Whoopi Goldberg dream. A toddler was missing, kidnapped by those who wanted a lil kid, but unable to have any, I think. I was hired to find him. The only lead I had was the name of a children's shelter for orphans. I was told they had the resources to help me and was warned by the go-between of the person who hired me that whoever had kidnapped the boy would be watching me, trying thwart(sp?) me at every turn. I was also given a movie ticket-sized piece of parchment with two names on either side, written in bold black calligraphy. One was a false name to throw any would-be attackers off my trail. The other was the true name of thee kid. All I remember of the three names the boy had was Percy, short for Percival. I had the feeling it was his middle name; and it was this side that I kept tightly against my palm. It was getting dark as I made my way to the shelter. Sure enough, I was being chased and was afraid I wouldn't make it to the shelter. I tripped and fell, but a black gentleman suddenly was there helping me up. He was probably in his 30s, but he reminded me of Meshach Taylor from Designing Women. Here's where it gets a bit hazy. I remember a period where he'd swept me up in his arms and we shared a steamy kiss while he stood in the street with me in his arms. I just can't remember if it was after we made it to the shelter or before he took me there. And Whoopi was the head manager of the shelter. I think I'd hurt my ankle because the guy still was carrying me. The shelter...I can't remember what the outside looked like, but the inside was like a trailer. Cluttered with toys and books and drawing paraphernalia. The office had a double or dutch doors with the top one open. The light was on in the office, and the guy carried me to the door--strong guy, huh?--where Whoopi Goldberg came to the door from the left. I explained my purpose and asking for her help, I handed her my parchment. She looked at the real name, thought and did something on her computer, and said she and her staff would help. She also caught the guy trying to make out with me and told us to knock it off.
The dream shifted a bit; the bad guys had found our headquarters, or we moved and found the kid. I can't remember which. But one of us had the kid and the bad guys had found us. Anyways, I remember being in an atrium with a pool, slinking round big plants trying to stay hidden. The last thing I did was dive in the pool for cover. After that I woke up.
Ok, I know something is going on. Otherwise I wouldn't still be dreaming about young kiddies. Or movie stars. Or have begun bizarre nightmares. As soon as I figured out that I was supressing my desire for my soulmate I stopped having those weird guy dreams. So logic tells me if I can figure out these dreams, they'll stop too. But the trick is...how? I've ruled out a ticking biological clock. Was I too hasty?
|
moon phase |
