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 Dream Liberation ... 
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Cotton Candy
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I awake from my sleep in a morose state...pondering the energies of that which I was entrenched within only moments before. It feels all too real...bringing back the rawest of memories of all that I had tried so hard to stuff away.

What do I think inspired it? ... I am certain. I had been listening to Leviathan's enn earlier that night (courtesy of Akellllta's lovely video) & felt these same exact sensations arise within me. This was blocking me..and yet I had forgotten it was a thing. The energies did not display it so vividly where I was now, somewhat sheltered from it in a way. But it is there lurking. It needs to be cleared or I feel I will all too easily fall back into the horror. It was through his energy that it was gently nudged it to the fore of my awareness, yet I had cringed from the shock of re-experiencing the invisible bindings. .. so they joined me in dreamland.

A something that is so deeply embedded in my psychology ; there is no starting point, nor end point, it just flows through me as an aspect I have wrongly suspected of life and living. I realize I am wrong, I stare life in the face ..and say 'I am wrong about this, I know I don't really -deserve- this just because of who I am' but I still feel it like a cripple feels a broken leg. There is healing, yes, but still the sensation of lacking some original ability.

Flashback to the dream... the symbology was vivid and alive, colored with messages so distinct and undeniable.
~~~~~
I was apparently traveling somewhere and looking for a place to stay, I had come across this adolescent male by way of circumstance who revealed to me that he knew of an opening. It was very shady and it only ever seemed to get creepier by the moment. The colors were dark and muted, it was night but it was a heavy night and I could feel the weight of the starless sky like a suffocating heat. He apparently had a corpse girlfriend. He said that he knew me because she had told him about me, she had told him that I could bring hope and inspiration to her, and he had sought me out because of this. I nodded. At this point it was perturbing but not necessarily frightening, just something odd, I wasn't scared.

He showed me something and I switched into his vision; he was riding a skateboard down the darkened pavement of the shabby neighborhood. His corpse girlfriend was somehow attached to his skateboard but in a strange way that defied physics... it was a game between them. I should mention-- she didn't actually resemble a girl, more like a sack of burned flesh. Whenever he skated towards 'her' she would rush forward and pull him along in this little chase, whenever he skated away from her she would follow him an sometimes propel herself onto him, in these moment he would try to throw her body off of his and she would throw herself back at him with just as much force. There was an unnerving component to watching this that came through with a sense of.. revealing something impending to me. I could sense a deep wave of looming suspense.

After this little spectacle was over he dropped me off at the house I would be staying, he seemed to be getting more scared the closer we got to it...in some way there was something that deeply frightened him attached to this. He did not walk me up to the doorway, he stood on the edge of the driveway and pointed me in. I asked him about a pair of colorful skull earrings and he told me of a little marketplace where I would be able to find them. Then .. he left, disappearing into the shadowed night.

The house is a shabby little thing, small and poorly made. I feel dread. I swallow my dread and walk in. The colors within the house are very pale and yet simultaneously lurid; oranges, pale acidic yellows, a splash of brownish grey that seems to hint at decay. The energy feels paralyzingly heavy, as if walking through quicksand. I am approached by the man who i will be staying with..and I am absolutely horrified. Everything about him seems to reek of an uncaring pimp, an abuser, someone who I need to get far, far away from. I don't know what to do. I am still of the mindset that I have no other options and so I try my best to find some sort of light within this situation that will pull me through. He shoves me into a back room, a room consisting only of the small cushion on the floor covered in a sheet and whole bunch of clutter all over the place in every one of the corners.

I set my backpack down and begin looking through all my stuff preparing to 'get settled', I am digging through the pockets and I come across the beautiful pair of rainbow skull colored earrings I had mentioned to the strange boy with the corpse girlfriend. Seeing them in here makes me happy.. they are so pretty and pastel. I am somewhat calmed by this. Just then the man barges in, swinging the door open in a fit of whatever may have spawned his rage. He turns to me and looks me up and down..clearly mellowing out, he then says; "I used to barge in my wife's room every night and touch her while she slept. I think I'll do that for you as well." I feel my body go cold and my throat start to fill with lead. What could I have done? Was it how I dressed? Was it how I had greeted him? For some reason my mind automatically goes to where it was my fault that this had happened. I am paralyzed.

He hits his hand against something and knocks his ring under the pile of clutter and screams out a slur of profanities, he then pushes me onto the ground and yells out for me to find his lost ring for him. I stand back up and face him, seeing this as my only opportunity, "I'll get the ring only if you let me lock my door at night, and leave my body alone." He sneers at me, a cold sneer ... and then agrees halfheartedly. I drop down and search for the ring, finding it within seconds, then bring it back up to him where he snatches it from me and leaves the room. I make some sort of weird comment trying to lighten the mood and he just ignores me.

When he leaves I lock the door. I try so hard to think ... but a way out seems completely out of reach. I feel so trapped, and the heavy energy of the house further leeches me of all my passions all my reasons for being, in this I am merely surviving, not living. I feel disconnected from any contacts that may be able to help out. I promised myself I would do it on my own. The world seems to swallow me whole. I sit in this corner, rocking back and forth in a terrified comatose, for what feels like hours until at last the day comes around and I am free to leave.

I venture out into the city the next day and come across many unusual things. The colors here are vivid, yet also in certain ways quite shabby, they are bright..but an in your face sort of bright that feels overwhelming to the senses. There is a deep penetrative heat that further lends to the heaviness of the atmosphere. I walk through various vendors, making my way across town... I head into certain places looking for a connection to make with something or someone that might be able to work with the odds I am facing. No such luck, in many places I wander I am seem as a nuisance. I don't belong to this town. Why am I here? I wonder the same thing...but I don't remember myself having a past, or roots. I feel cut off from everything that came before this situation. No one to contact... no one to reach out to. I wander the city in isolated contemplation.

I come across a scene in a library where a man is curling a blonde woman's hair up and styling her in a manner reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe; "You look just darling like this!" He says. She looks at herself in the mirror, unsure of that which she is being held up to, a look of disappointment flashing subtly across her face as if to say; 'But this isn't me..'. She doesn't speak though. She lets him move her around and fashion her as she pleases, even though she seems to be a very powerful woman; a researcher of some sorts beforehand, she is stripped of all those achievements by now, made into nothing but her appearance.

After exploring the city for a significant amount of time I begin to walk back. I must cross a very busy double intersection to get to where I need to go and the cars just never seem to stop rushing on by. I eventually make my way across with two younger girls who I am following, they are leading me the wrong way though and there are many cars that are approaching. They are stretching across the intersection in a way that seems to lengthen the journey. I am running but I feel as if I am standing in place. Finally, I shout out to the girl ahead "You are going the wrong way!" And this shifts something and we are able to cross, just barely being missed by a fast approaching car.

I make it to the pavement on the other side and start walking back. I start to get this feeling that I should contact someone and tell them how I feel, someone very distinct comes to mind -- and she holds a significance that will be outlined in later references -- but I keep getting this urge. I am not being guided to do anything other than tell her how I am feeling, that I am terrified of where I am and that I have no idea what to do. That I must admit my vulnerability. As I walk back I hold two phones in my hands preparing to contact her whenever I get the chance.

On the side of the road there is a fence and I see standing all down the walkway a line of people, one set outside of the fence, and the other side inside the fence, they are throwing things at one another and it is apparently a game for the outside set to hit and injure the inside set with whatever they can get their hands on. I look into the inside set and see how powerless they look to those who stand outside the fence. I continue walking, not wanting to participate in these horrors.

Just before I make it back there is a pool that I must cross to get to the household, a pool filled with people and annoying activities. I am frustrated but I oblige.. I remember I have the two phones; my only link to the person I was urged to contact; in my hands and so I hold these up above the water as I cross. I make it to the other side and place my phone in my pocket, then realize I have forgotten something. I get back into the water and someone shouts that my phone is in my pocket, I scramble upwards, contorting my body against the nearest person so my pockets are raised above water.. I begin to try to pull them out but they feel as if they are stuck. I am holding my breath underwater trying to maintain this strange pose. I feel a person pushing down on my torso trying to push my pockets, and the phones, underwater in amusement. I scream out in frustration, filling my lungs with searing liquid. Finally I get them out of my pockets and rise to the surface..... The phones are damaged and glitchy but I am certain there is still a way for me to contact her through them.

Through this fiasco, my colorful skull earrings were somehow broken. This saddens me but I continue on. Eventually I make it back to the house, sit in my little corner of my locked room ...and I reach out to her telling her that I think I got myself into something terrible. We talk, I open up about what has been happening, she expresses her concern and with this my vision suddenly clears. I am no longer held hostage under the paralyzing weight of the house and the influences inside the house, I begin to see into the monstrous dimensions of all that lurks in these people's psyche...and that realization is enough for me. I feel freed from the shackles of my own self condemnation and I am able to see that this is not what I 'deserve'. This is not something I am doomed to because of the faults I believed myself to posses. I have other options. I leave the house that day, and have the strangest feeling the corpse girl had somehow come back to life.

....

IT should be mentioned, the significance of this dream and how in line it is with things that have actually happened.
In my younger days, when I was just getting on my feet, I stayed with a man in a hostel type house where guests frequently came in and out... The man seemed so nice to me, but he would have fits of domination where he would do any and everything to make me feel terrible about myself and incapable of entertaining any other options of where I might live and function. He made me feel as if I was bound to him for my own safety. I had no way of seeing outside of this. I isolated myself from everyone. I pretended to be entirely okay.
He made me sleep in the same room as him 'for safety' and I would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and hear him moaning my name. I can't begin to describe how this feels... to be stuck in that room, not wanting to move for fear of engaging him and/or exciting him into some sort of action, but having to hear your name... violated in that way by this old man who horrified you and yet made himself out to be your 'protector'.
There were worse things in that house though... well a spectrum really. There was a guest who would frequently stay there who became quite obsessed with me. One night I was meditating on the couch and he came out there, sneaking into the room so I would not be aware of his presence, and began masturbating. I opened my eyes and saw him staring at me, his hand in his pants, mouth agape. I screamed at him to stop, he didn't stop...he just kept going. I ran downstairs and locked myself in the basement and just sobbed in the dark, trying very hard not to wake up the other guests.
The next day I told my 'protector' of this incident, and he said it was just human nature. That I am going to have to deal with these things in life so I might as well learn now. BUT, if I felt really scared I should just lock myself in his room for safety, HIS room.
The guest continued to harass me, calling me terrible names; bitch, cunt, whore, when I would ignore him. He was a HUGE guy too, towering over me at 6'2 and built to the point where I knew I couldn't match his strength. He would often watch me and do strange things that frightened me. There was no escape. Nowhere I could possibly go where I wouldn't be ... subjected to this shit. Except the roof. I would climb there in the freezing cold and just sit up there looking to the stars for guidance. I would often dance up there. Making very sure to conceal myself from the presences of those who might be watching below. It was my only outlet of soul.
I continued locking myself in rooms. The host who invited me to stay there continued pretending I was his daughter, yet acting sexually obsessed; MAKING me hold his hand, physically grabbing it when I would try to let go, telling me all these stories of how a father is a daughters lover in a past life, telling me he wished I was younger. I wanted to die. I would go places and do things that felt like accidents. Walk very slowly across the street in case a car would hit me ... hang my body over the edge of the train tracks thinking about what it would feel like to just let go. I didn't belong there. I knew I didn't...but part of me still felt like I deserved all of this. I wasn't good enough for better.
Every time I tried to get myself out, through a logical set of actions, I would end up dragging myself into a horrible circumstance, entirely reflective of the exact same dynamics of that which I was trying to escape. I went to a massage company I found on craigslist to apply for a job, only to find out they would want to prostitute me out-- I refused, but again felt paralyzed. I contacted multiple people who would let a woman stay for free, only to find out these were apex predators. I was offered assistance by SO MANY men, who only wanted to use me.

And do you want to know what changed it? It was the exact same thing as the dream.
The very same person in the dream I was urged to contact, in real life, had reached out to me to express concern. It was when I was vulnerable enough to reveal what was happening, to reveal my fear and pain, that it all shifted seemingly in the blink of an eye. It was through her I was able to become aware of the monsters lurking around me, and their very countenance seemed to morph to reveal all the madness. I didn't know how I would be able to bear this newfound awareness, but I was reassured that it was going to be okay. The very next morning a doorway was opened. Some people I knew very well offered to have me come stay with them until I could get on my feet again.

It wasn't until I acknowledged the monsters that I was able to free myself from them. For too long I blamed it on myself. Everything that happened was a product of my behavior, I just had to figure out how to fix myself..and then I would be good. And yet, opening up to my vulnerability with the help of that amazing friend, was what freed me. It wasn't a matter of changing my nature to be more deserving, it was a matter of clearing my beliefs enough to realize that this was not the only way, that was not what I had to experience, this was not healthy and this was certainly not necessary. I was stuck in a cycle, a vigorous pattern of believing my power to be in the hands of some dominating man or figure. I didn't know how to hold myself up in the world with this dominating figure intruding on my experience; delegating what I experienced, how I behaved, what I was to them.. it was the only thing I knew. And becoming vulnerable was the crack that would shatter this perception enough to illuminate my freedom.

~~~

Just the other day I was having a chat with my mother and she told me about a dream she had that recurred in the exact same dimensions for years and years and years all through my childhood, so much so that she had to seek therapy for it.

In the dream I was stuck in a tiki shack being raped and smothered by this male figure who loomed over me, held me down, and broke me into submission. I screamed and screamed, crying out for her .. but the door was being guarded by this huge samurai figure and so she was unable to get in no matter how hard she tried. She had to just sit there and listen to me being raped, listen to my cries of pain, listen to my body as it was whipped and broken and violated.

I reflected on this. I reflected on the theme of this and how it has shown up for me in this lifetime and lifetimes before. It all seems to spiral together now...and it is clearing. Finally clearing. Little by little... I feel my body infused with a sense of all that it had lost. A sense of freedom. The burden itself scaling off as I push myself to open up and conquer this gated -hell-. Thank you Leviathan for this dream, thank you for reminding me. I will never forget the lessons contained in such striking experiences. I will never forget the strength that was found in such vulnerability. I will continue to dive deeper into all that may be revealed from this, seeking and championing the liberation that once seemed so elusive and non-existent. And yet it is there. I feel it now more than ever. ...

_________________
cotton candy delirium
...madness like sugar
sweetness
still dark
but colored
ravenous ecstasy
in cookies cream


Tue Jan 16, 2018 10:21 am
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Wed Jan 17, 2018 9:31 am
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