Bupropion Diaries – Dreamer

I used to have vivid dreams, before everything happened and I became the person that is typing up these entries. I don’t know if this is a mental purge, or whatever it was, but I found it … odd enough to put here. Maybe it’ll help me with a story later?

This dream spanned a pretty large range of spaces, all of my dreams used to. It began with a dream me who really looked very little like me, to be honest, but I’ll say “I” for this since it was from that point of view. This is the second vivid dream where I’ve been someone else, so who knows if this is the new normal. It’s still been over a year, I think, since I’ve recalled a dream.

It started with me in a large hotel suite filled with people I didn’t know. I was uneasy when a woman that I knew as “mother” strolled out of a side room with a victorious smile. There was talk of a wedding then I realized that it was MY wedding they were speaking of. I was reminded of how expensive this wedding was, that we went all the way to another country, and I was utterly shocked. I didn’t say anything, and went into one of the side rooms to get ready to go out.

The bridesmaids drug me off to a main street that was utterly confusing. The shops were randomly placed as were the clubs. I recall being in a bikini that I actually own and laying out on a chair looking out into the street. For some reason I removed the bikini bottoms for a while, then rung them out and put them back on. Someone jumped up and whispered to me that we were both dressed now and giggled and scampered off. I felt really ashamed, even though the original act wasn’t something I hid.

Time sort of went wobbly at that point and I was wandering the streets alone. I was popping into shops, bars. Everything was red and brick, some sort of mix of New Orleans and Purdue’s main drag of bars that butted up with pictures I’ve seen of Paris. I didn’t really speak the language the other people spoke, but many of them also spoke English. I wanted to say that my brain thought this was Germany, but it was not, but you know, brains. I met a man who walked with me for a while, the houses reminded me of the ones that students and lower rung professors live in around Bloomington, IN.

He said “Take care, American” when we got to his house – I have no idea why I was walking him home – I asked him if my accent was that bad. He laughed and said “yes”. I walked myself down a hill that reminded me of Pittsburgh Pennsylvania. I walked up an abandoned building that used to be a factory. It was also red brick with metal parts jutting out like the bones on a platter of ribs. Thick cords that used to be the veins of electrical wires knotted out at odd angles. Two floors were visible as I started across the floor two kids were playing with toy guns above me on the exposed second level.

I walked through the doorway to find the line of bed and breakfasts that we were staying in. “There she is!” a young woman yelled. I could feel someone screaming about time, and how I looked horrible, I had better get my dress on. The dress was pretty, white and blue, I remember thinking that at least this was nice. Then someone yelled that the groom was missing. I went outside and someone was walking a black and white springer spaniel dog. I asked him to keep an eye on it, but it jumped on me and left a muddy print on the wedding dress.

The mother screamed that the wedding started in half an hour, I needed to get ready now. I rushed upstairs and wet a cloth, but the more I tried to dab off the dirt the more it spread, all over the back of the dress. I was frustrated because that was pretty-much the only thing that i had liked about this whole mess. I put it back on and rushed to a large vanity.

The vanity was made of old, brittle, light colored wood and it was obviously not anyone’s but something that was specifically for rental items. There was lipstick, nail polish, all like a shop cabinet. I couldn’t find anything that I wanted and was frantically looking for… something.

Then I woke up.

I’m not even going to attempt to figure out what my brain was doing with that one, but if you have any idea, feel free to make a guess.



Filed under Bupropion Diaries

2 responses to “Bupropion Diaries – Dreamer

  1. It’s amazing how you can remember your dream in such detail!! From what I ‘know’ going upstairs is good. Something with positive mental development/climbing from the darkness beneath.. but then again what do I know. There are some dream books out there that explain things like stairs, trees etc. in dreams.

    Not that it holds any truth but sometimes it can be fun to see what others think of dreams. 🙂

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