Waking The Day Sleeper (Ref: #8-1) - 12:19pmPST/THU/09/28/2023
A dream requested
Even the moon suggested “have a drink” (according to Lunarium) to ease yesterday’s complexity; I left that glass, for better, some time ago. Red eyed glow, I growled advocating for prompt chihuahua meds, preoccupied and determined. How long have I lingered? I lost sight of dreaming: couldn’t recall the last, or easily reach back in time to grab one. Pegasus, I appealed for inspiration, then Aphrodite and Eros to help pick up the flat in my heart. Four drops of choice sleep elixir, surrounding candles lit, I meditated to clear the Fortress of Tolerance while sinking into a pillowed throne.
A dream of future fiction love far from San Francisco reeled. I find myself in a festivity. It’s casual, something feels at home, though I know not place. Wandered into a room, I blend into an unorganized crowd of convention. Three layers ahead a vast width of people was a gent on a low platform, some type of recognition identity unfamiliar to me, holding all eyes attentive. As he passed, I caught a glimpse of a cool, cute smile I appreciated. This was no fame game handshake, but one of relatable charm to those filling the room.
Music played outside the doorway so I danced through its direction into a bleeding density of people. In the sway of crowd passing along a sidewalk, he somehow found way standing in front of me and said, “hello,” simply, with a surprising warm presence, lingering. We were equally glad to meet. I recall his smile and what reflected, happier after the moment. The event pool flowed as I glanced to gather active bounds.
In the street a vehicle slowly passed like a Mardi Gras float tossing a spare throw here and there, as if a parade was winding to completion though still in celebration. Large long beads flew far past. This was all unexpected, and refreshing as the hour after a rain. A giant pair of white fuzzy dice with black dots flew toward. I caught them, and craved the celebration.
As the plain truck-float traveled away, now down the street, I decided to move after it. I turned to the right where my two feathered masks suddenly appeared on a table. Pink or orange? I choose orange, grabbed the mask and danced. Moving along the sidewalk crowd to keep after delight, I cornered past a semi open front sidewalk cafe, and to the left, he caught my eye again. I caught his.
He was crouched to ground near a floor table chatting with a few people as we both held a moving stare. I see him smile, aware, as I blush over my concealed grin as not to interfere. The eyes in the back of my head, see him move from conversation before I fall out of sight. He doesn’t let go, and happily wanders through the crowd to reach me. Then he’s there, suddenly beside me, on my left. The surroundings feel like a French quarter sidewalk as I feel him reach his right arm, hand wrapped above my hip. There’s a bit of my character, Tesson, in him. Hip to hip, we step forward, feeling found.
He turns to face me at a tighter than forty-five angle nearest the brick wall to my right, as if to put aside the traffic and the pin the moment. Cornered with intention and enough space to walk or stay within a two person halt from the action. He asks, “ So what do you make of it?” meaning the attraction. I take it in with a deep breath of a smile, too magical to deny my heart melting. He happily says, “It’s enough to get married” I say, “Today???” feeling a mild surprise frisson freeze. He stands sturdy through the quiver. With a release of breath, I realize his sincerity. It is foreign to me, and different, and magnetic as I stay and drop escape. For once, there is someone in the “fishbowl” with me, mutually enjoying the swim as the sound of love silences the outside room. Sincerity, in every word and action, solidifies in my brain. “Sincerity.” Aware, I opened my eyes.
In bed, with a smile on my face, the dream was more fun than anything that happened yesterday or the day before, so into story this shapes Lydia and Tesson. Above all, I’m certain this dream was a sent conversation from Eros, to test me, to see if I would take his hand of good work. I am currently attending such council since the request “Eros Must Fix This (#4). Though I’ve felt his explaining, his translation of story and circumstances over a burning candle, this dream is his first test for me. And I passed. Once joined in the fishbowl, if light was shined upon it, I would choose to glow over incinerate. I’m sticking with Eros.
This journal snippet alludes to…