Last night I had dreams that I worked in a cupcake shop with Heidi, which was also a reptile store. The owner was a vile and seedy man who didn't like to pay his employees, so after a day of fun with Heidi I told the old fat man I didn't need to be paid. My job was to frost cupcakes and deliver them. Easy enough. I was outside about to take my cupcakes away when I saw what could be compared to a candy store dispensary (you know those big plastic containers that you pull the wheel and candy comes out) full of little baby lions the size of my palm. And they were piled up in there, inhumanely; they could barely breathe and they were all so fuzzy and cute. They were there for food to feed the reptiles, which were also neighbors, squirming in their own plastic cubicles, piled up on one another on either side of the baby lions.
I grabbed a baby lion as one would grab a baby mouse, and clipped its tail. Not sure if it was for fun or for routine; then it looked at me with those baby lion eyes, and I was a gonner. This was my lion. I thought about how I was going to get it away from the old crotchety man; from Heidi, from the store. How I would raise it, what I would feed it that night. A flash came into my head that I should just put it back, but flash forward to me trying to put it in the cage and accidentally opening the dispensary of snakes, and them flooding over into the baby lions and fulfilling their fate of feeding all the slithery reptiles. A flash of the war between lion and snake came into my mind, as I sleep under a Chinese scroll of a tiger fighting a dragon, which is supposed to symbolize prosperity as the courageous tiger takes on the good fortune of the dragon amidst the crashing waves.
So off this baby lion goes (I hide it in my mouth to keep it away from the nosy boss), and I decide against taking it back to its plastic cubicle with its furry brothers and sisters piled up on top of each other unable to move, and remind myself to stop at New Leaf on the way home and get it some good ground beef.
Also dreams Nicoluminous got shot, and Lafa was upset and didn't want to talk about it; that it took him 7 bullets to die; and the entire community was beside itself. Also (of course) dreams of running away, of climbing through other people's houses and windows to get away. Work dreams as always.
Thoughts:
I decided recently that I was going to blog every morning upon waking, as I used to in my journal, but writing by hand takes too long in this day and age and with all my shit to do. I took a goals setting workshop yesterday (attached is a picture I drew of the vision I have for myself that will take me there) and decided that while music is my top priority, some things I can do to soothe the soul in the meantime are writing in my blog every morning, meditating on the state of the moon, and pulling a daily tarot from my Osho Zen Deck to meditate on for the day. So hi blog and whoever wants to read it, I will be trying to see you as much as possible in the morning from now on.I also decided that it was time I revert to my old ways in college as a pescatarian, who only eats fish, because let's face it, I could never kill a chicken, cow, rabbit, foul, deer, etc. in the wild. I have gone fishing and could kill a salmon (with a heavy remorse still, I have such a tender heart) and while food in our world is aplenty I'm not going to eat meat when I don't even have the balls to kill it myself. This is my pact to myself, and I plan on having a ritual to bury my sadness for all the things I've eaten that I can't kill myself, which is the ultimate hypocrisy and shame to fall for the meat industry's neglect to advertise the atrocities that go down in a slaughter house so that we can eat McDonald's all day long with no remorse or celebration for the life and death of the animal. If I lived in harder times and had to hunt to feed my family, I would do so with no problems; however, when food is so bountiful, there's no reason to take on that kharma.
Yesterday was a powerful day; I spent the previous night at my mom's and whenever I go back home I feel ghosts there; memories and the ghosts of Kitty (my friend, who hung herself) and Eric (my sister's boyfriend, who hung himself) always haunt me by feelings of intense nostalgia and longing and gratitude and emotions of which are hard to digest. My sister called me crying about Eric, ironically enough, which she hasn't since I was in college. I remember that my thesis in college was a play I wrote about him, and his love for Pink Floyd, which I never told my sister about. I tell her now. We are going to retrieve it off my old dusty hard drive and mull it over.
I also talk to a great influence of mine over the phone for the first time for 30 mins, about mastering, mixing down, producing tracks, buying equipment, touring vs. settling down, and he agrees to have me in the studio to work on a track, which is probably the greatest milestone in music production I've had in my 4 year music career. Matty G agrees to mentor me, a milestone occasion in my career.
Because really I've been faking it, using my love of performance and my love of rap music to get me anywhere, making jokes if I fuck up, or dancing harder so nobody notices. If there's any one thing I excel at, it is the opposite of music production (being in the studio staring at a computer) -- its being onstage, engaging the audience, trying to make eye contact with every individual; spreading smiles in a comedic fashion. That's my shit, its always been my shit, I was always a comedic actress, but here in the bay where I appear to be stuck forever, there's not much of an outlet for film and comedy. The DJ stage is the only place I've found. So be it!
To ground all that into reality, I did a flying bird Osho spread yesterday which I haven't touched the cards in forever, and it started with Adventure and ended in We Are the World, so I know my guides are with me and cheerleading me on.
Meditation:
Transformation -- It is much like the experience of Guatam Buddha when, after years of seeking, he finally gave up knowing there was nothing more that he could do. That very night, he became enlightened.
No comments:
Post a Comment