The Screaming Dreamer

We viewed the empty house where we would live together. There was a large room I wished to make my own as my study, my creative place. You said no, you wouldn’t let me have this room as my own and you ripped out the carpet. You walked from the room in anger. It was your house, I knew all along, it wasn’t my house after all.

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

More: I loved the 50s man. I sang his songs. He fell in love with me for that. I did not fall in love with him, although I enjoyed his music. It was always just about the music and nothing more. I brought him to your house so you would see I too loved the music and I had made an effort for music’s sake, and here he was. You refused to acknowledge him but instead glowered at him and when I looked at you to understand why you were frightening him you said only “are you still collecting men?”

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

And this one: We sat in a car, you asking me questions and me explaining I had chosen my life path and would not follow yours. You brought out a knife and began stabbing me repeatedly as I tried to fend you off with just my hands.

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

And more: you told the world how I opened my legs each time the door opened implying I was the queen of all whoredom and wished to return to my habits.

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

More: You rammed your luxury car into the brick wall so you could collect the insurance for it and gain another luxury car while your own car was quite serviceable and what you did was fraud. You hurt yourself in the action and was taken to hospital. I stood by as your secretary unable to make you stop killing yourself and feeling helpless.

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

And this: I was instructed to babysit you; a tiny boy of two. You ran from the room into the street. You couldn’t get back in, the door was locked. I tried to open the door. You couldn’t reach the door.

I was responsible for you and you didn’t know I was even standing in the room.

I screamed inside myself. Screaming does no good.

Even more: You came to visit me at my house. You didn’t like my house, it was too small for you. I made a suggestion how we could meet in the future, when I should have better quarters. You didn’t like the suggestion and yelled and flounced upon my bed and curled up in fetal position.

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

Further and More: I asked you to go across the bridge of no-time with me. You refused. I asked if I could use your window to escape from the institution we both were in. You said you didn’t care if I used your window but you were not going with me. You turned away; you did not want to leave the institution and I had expected you to help me reach the window sill in my long dress, as a courtesy, but you didn’t notice I wanted your well wishes, and your assistance and you didn’t care how I felt.

I fumed. Fuming does no good.

More: you came to my apartment I shared with my children. You issued no greeting but instead yelled angrily WHAT ABOUT ME!!??? I yelled back out of necessity to get your attention. Then I led you to another room and sang your song back to you. It was all I had for you. It was what I was holding, but all of whatever I was holding. You gestured at me to come on but spoke no words of encouragement. You glowered once more.

I screamed again, but silently. Screaming does no good.

More: I met a man who explained you stole his record collection.

I screamed in protest. Screaming does no good.

More: I took your neglected yacht for a spin; you appeared in the water dead ahead. I couldn’t steer the yacht out of the way in time. You got hit and you were injured but still alive and would mend.

I screamed. Screaming does no good.

More: I walked past your beach house. I wanted to see where you lived. I was curious. You came racing from the stairs at such a clip towards me I grew frightened.

I screamed STAY AWAY FROM ME! Screaming does no good.

More, for there is no end: I asked you if it was you that I spoke to. You said no, I am not that person. Then you said you would never deceive another as to who you were. Then I knew I could see you grinning as you lied, and that you had fun lying. It was your way. Then I knew it was you, even if you had a thousand user names, I knew it was you as the words themselves gave off your energy fumes.

And I screamed in my demented way. I had found you. But screaming, really, it does no good.

More: I was running for my life. I ran to a good friend’s apartment and explained I was being chased by a madman and I wished for her to hide me. You burst in the room demanding to know where I was hiding. Your fury knew no bottom. My friend yelled back at you on your level to leave me be. You had to leave as she was right, and she was true warrior spirit. You left and I was heartened and my friend explained I had the key, and he wanted the key, but he had to find his own key and I had to recognize that I had my own key.

I screamed in fear and then I was calm. Screaming does no good, but sometimes it’s all you can do for the moment, especially when forgetting that you do have a key and that you can lock the door now.

Interspersed in my dream land adventures were climatic moments of brief but sweet encounters. perhaps a kiss. Perhaps even more than a kiss. Some sort of exchange which either invigorated or exhausted us. Dreams are what lies in the unconscious and gets played out in the physical realm more or less, according to whether the unconscious becomes conscious whereby we gain a choice as to where the dream will go exactly and what the dream is attempting to reveal.

I saw a man who aroused more fright and flight instincts within me, than a man whom I wished to get to know. All the while I was getting to know him within the dream and would not have to actually meet him in physical reality in that case.

Man and woman kill each other on this planet, in the name of love unrequited. None of us are really relationship experts and we are experimenting while procreating. Life is evolving and we hope each generation will do it up better than the parents. Psychology is a slow moving train and entails study of the unconscious drives that motivate us in our behavior and self expression. In the study of our dreams we can begin to understand ourselves, and subsequently begin to understand “other.”

There is hope then even for the screamers such as myself and this hope lies in intensive self scrutiny of what lies in the subconscious and to then make it a known. There is no hope of making a new doctrine for the masses. There is only self scrutiny and becoming more conscious of who and what we are. Doing this foremost endeavor, we then gain a choice factor over what we perceive, whether in dreams or waking reality, all the while realizing, what we perceive is just the tip of the iceberg, and a perception is not knowledge, nor wisdom. Yet a perception can be true, then it can be false. With self scrutiny you can determine what is a true perception and what is false.

But first and foremost, you must recognize, we are all dreaming here, and screaming does no good at all. Plug into the M-band noise. There you can hear all of humanity screaming as one vast incredible sound of distortion factors. You can’t listen too long or it destroys you, just as a glass will shatter from a certain sound, so too, can the human psyche shatter from a sound. Then you have the power within to shut your receptors down to an appropriate level for your personal comfort.

We are receiving assistance, invisible aide at this time to create a joyful sound rather than a scream of fright or dismay. Then the M-band field changes appropriately to reflect the love we are receiving which enables us one and all to make a joyful sound, for we are the world, and this is how we change the world, one by one. Then it is like the Lord’s prayer, where the kingdom has come, on earth, as it is in heaven. Then you have the key. Clinch it in your hand tightly and don’t lose it, and each must attain their own key. But not by screaming!