life and dreams,
the heart of the matter

i woke up well before my alarm clock with a chilling dream, a blonde man with scars all over his face and rotted teeth pulled me into the back of a black mustang and beating me up. i didn't think i had ever saw the man before but was shaken all day.

that night i walked home from school as i usually did. as a child i was rather starved for attention (still am sometimes!) and would usually talk to any stranger who noticed me, but it was all different when i ran into the man from my dream in front of a quickie mart i would often steal candy from.

when i saw him i ran like the fires of hell were licking at my ass. the whole incident became less and less significant as years flew by.

when i was 16 i met my mother. after years of prostitution, she didn't have much to show me where she had been and probably didn't want to tell me much anyway. when she showed me a scratchy polaroid of the boyfriend she had for much of the time she was out finding herself it all came back to me. it was the same man. she says he drove a black cougar. i remember it as a mustang, but they are similar i suppose.

apparently my mother missed me and my sister very much and wanted to see us. she did not, however, want to see our father, who promised to call the law on her several warrants if he saw her. she knew where we lived (same run down ol' house she married him in) and her boyfriend offered to pick us up and bring us to her for a few days of visiting.

i don't know how everything would of turned out differently if i would of ended up seeing her. perhaps she would still be in jail for kidnapping, i donno. she swears that her boyfriend never would of hurt my sister or i.

my mother also tells me that when she was pregnant with me she had a dream about a plane crashing into the ocean. the next day she refused to get on a plane, despite my fathers pleas about non refundable tickets and expensive air fare.

the plane didn't even fly over the ocean, but it did have an awfully rocky emergency landing. several people were seriously hurt. my mother has never flown since, not that she had many opportunities as a hooker or now as an unskilled worker. whatever the case, she swears she never would.

my mom says she’s had lots of psychic dreams, but prayed that they go away after she got sober (5 years ago.) she hasn't had a single dream since, psychic or not. she said that she prayed that the curse on our bloodline be lifted, as her mother had similar dreams.

i am not sure if i would want more psychic dreams or not. that would make an interesting question to ask people as i meet them.. would you want psychic dreams if you could choose to have them?

these dreams are often the only evidence i can think of that there is some kind of a spirit realm. from thinking about the circumstances surrounding them, i've cooked up my own notions about religion. i imagine the loving hand of god keeping karma in balance. to me the flow of karma is not for punishment or reward, but lessons and encouragement. i imagine my hardships as like forging a steel sword in fire to get the impurities out and make it stronger.

i feel myself changing every day. i can never decide weather i am growing or regressing, and exactly what i want to grow towards. the biggest question in my mind is what is god preparing me for? doesn't he have enough angels up there already?

if anyone’s interested, i have two related pages on my site. for mom was written when she tried to get me committed as a teen, divorcing mom a few years later when i realised that being raised without her influence was a lucky draw.