Category Archives: Dreams

When Heaven Becomes Hell or Something Like That

When Heaven Becomes Hell or Something Like That

I have always had an addictive personality I think. Put more positively I guess I would have to say I am passionate. That sounds better!

As a child I read and read and read and that is one passion that remains today.  Back then it was the dreaded Uncle Arthur’s bedtime stories previously mentioned in No! No! Please No More Bedtime Stories!, Trixie Belden, anything by Pearl S. Buck..well the list is endless.

Lately I have blogged on some of my current favs which includes Stephenie Meyer and the whole Twilight thing.  The first I even knew about this series was the six o’clock news sometime ago, which showed a bunch of tweenies lined up to see the first movie.  The minute vampires were mentioned I shut the set off and muttered at great length to myself about the disgusting situation of the world and it’s youth and how no good could come out of the downward spiral society was on.  

That Christmas my daughter-in-law gave me…yup..the first Twilight book.  

So came my Cullen passion and it has not abated.  I have every book including The Short life of Bree Tanner.  I have on my desk top the leaked copy of Midnight Sun which Meyer posted since it was already out there and chose not to finish.  The books are filled with anticipation, mystery and myth.  Her character development is intense and in depth. The set has been a reread again and again seeking out what was said before that hinted at something explained two novels later.

Now my last two weekends have been reading marathons, barely poking my head out of the book, never mind the door.  So today I took myself in hand and sternly made myself go for a walk.  Fresh air – well as fresh as it can be – no books, no iPad, just a good old fashioned walk. No coffee shop because that meant reading and sipping.

I ended up at a mall, and not being a shopper I still entered and practiced the art of browsing, like normal people do, and bookstores were not allowed.  I strolled the whole mall and decided I needed something from Wal-Mart.

For the life of me I can’t remember what it was because as soon as I stepped in the door something unknown took over and stupefied me, and forced me, I swear, to approach a large table with BOOKS.  I could see it coming and reached way down deep, where pure grit resides, to prepare myself.  Why I could handle this.  I would look but not touch.  I would be master of  these insane urges for words, stories, poems, toilet cleaning instructions, anything.

Then I muttered a groan of agony mixed with a liberal dose of the ecstatic.  Before me lay the twilight saga: the official illustrated guide.  The first fifty-five pages are all about how Meyer came to write the story.  A total of five hundred and forty-three pages of history and detail of every character in the series.  I mean EVERY character!

I forced myself to visit my aunt for tea as planned, even though the book in the bag sang to me like a siren.  I forced myself to visit with my sister this evening,  when she arrived as invited, thinking please please just let me look at it. I even made time to read your blogs but now! Now as midnight approaches I am free to look.  

I have made myself promise it would be just a wee peek and I have every confidence that in a short time I can put it down, close the cover, have a normal night sleep, rise in the morning at a decent hour, clean my house, perhaps solve a world problem or two and then treat myself to this delicious demon of addiction.  I am sure I can.  I am. Sure.

You-will-never-touch-our-children-again!!

Wizard

So screamed Mrs. Weasley as she took out the evil Bellatrix.  Yup I have spent another weekend lost in a story.

 
This time it was a reread of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.  A reread of six hundred and seven pages that I just could not put down.  Again.  J.K. Rowling does have a way with words.
 
So at almost 1 a.m. I am ready to call it a day.
Regardless of your opinion of Wizards et al any story where right overcomes wrong is exhilarating.
 
What I like about Rowling is that her characters are not perfect – not black and white.  The best have a dark side to overcome and the worst have a chance at redemption.  And who you think is good is often not and vice versa.  And no one lives a life without some regret.
 
Now I wonder what I should read in bed to fall asleep?
I think I so have to get a life. 
Dancing would be nice. 

What I Lack….

What I Lack

This was the only choice for me in this challenge.  Mostly because what I lack is so overwhelming.  It all comes down to one thing.  And that one thing is the source of all lackness.

If we lack confidence it is because of IT.
If we lack money it is because of IT.
If we lack happiness it is because of IT.
If we lack beauty it is because of IT.
If we lack peace within it is because of IT.
If we lack wisdom it is because of IT.

I have had IT sporadically but because it comes and goes and I can never hang on to IT I seek IT.  But obviously not with fervor or I would have IT all the time.
I love IT when I have IT.  I hate IT when I don’t.
When I don’t have IT I can never figure a way to get IT.
IT just seems to show up and I revel in the wonderfulness.

Nuts…..if only I could figure IT out?
You can’t beat Willpower!

I Have a Dream…I mean..

Mr. Shatner

I Have a Dream….. I mean ….

I had a dream. And it is unusual for me to remember my dreams and I realized that in the deepest dark of night. So I argued with myself about waking up just a little to write it down. It took a bit of persuading as I like my slumbers and hate disturbing them but finally I convinced myself.

This is what I wrote verbatim….
I had a
dream
bombs
Melbourne St.
William Shatner
Armaey. (don’t even ask..I have no idea)
tears
unknown
son
funygSOL
daughter
Jane
Allens
Mum
(arrow drawn to the word) secrecy
drive way
driveway
u were a nurse right?
did you ever have to take care of soldiers in the fields
by taking your clothes off

I am not sure I will write down anything again whilst in the land of nod. The worst of it is I remember dreaming of other things that were more interesting but I simply would not listen to me when I needed to get up again to write it down.

AND the dream was going quite well with a very nice looking chap when all of a sudden I looked up and he had turned into a lecherous William Shatner who wanted to talk me into disrobing!

Nuts. Could have been the cold I had, or the soup or even the licorice. All I know is that the man of my dreams evolved into one not so much of my dreams.

Have you ever tried writing down midnight thoughts and actually been able to read them the next day? Or, since I am seeking info, how many dream of Mr. Shatner? Not that that is a bad thing. I quite like him as an actor. He does do lechery very well.