<title>Matt's Bit of Space</title> <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d4021413\x26blogName\x3dMatt\x27s+Bit+of+Space\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://matty03.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://matty03.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d6247564420384019859', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Thursday, October 06, 2005

DREAMING OF DEAD TURTLES

I didn't sleep well last night. Odd dreams, but this was the strangest of the night.

I was back in Texas. It was pouring rain and starting to flood. I could smell blood and noticed that the rain was a sort of pale red color. Was their blood in the rain? Then I saw a set of headlights coming toward me. I immediately recognized the tank of a car my father drove. My father pulled up and I began to dread having to deal with him... The passenger door opens and I got in. There is the usual smell of over-the-counter anti-acid medication mixed with gun powder. My father looked sort of out of it which I think only makes since as he has been dead close to 10 years. Before I can ask him if he remembered to pick up my little brother he tells me that he thinks he saved Fred.

"Who is Fred?'

Then he sat a dead turtle on my lap. It was so heavy and smelled of rotting flesh --- or of what I think rotting flesh must smell like. I felt sick. My father belched and asked me if I wanted a burger. I told him no and point out that "Fred" is dead. He ignored me. I told him to stop the car and to let me out. He slammed the brakes on and asked me if I am sure I want to get out as I am likely to miss my graduation. He then informed me that I used to be such a cute little kid, but had turned into a pathetic just loser stoner. I couldn't decide if my feelings were hurt or if I was just angry.

I felt confused. I tried to lift the turtle off my person, but it was too heavy. I asked my father if he knew what year it was. It was 1985. I then realized that this is why he was alive and bothering me as per usual. I decided I was mad at him and pointed out that my little brother, his other son, was graduating from elementary school too.



He forgot to pick him up. I became furious.

I finally managed to push the turtle off my lap and onto the floorboard of the car. The shell cracked open spilling what looked like some sort of oil all over the place. My father began to cry and accused me of havng killed Fred. I felt no remorse for his turtle and only knew that I needed to find my brother. I asked him if he had bothered to pick up my mother, his wife so she could attend the graduation ceremonies. He didn't have time. Apparently, there were just too many turtles which required his care.

I shot my father the finger, got out of the car and he called out that the world seemed to be ending and that I needed to get right with God. I rolled my eyes and realized that I was getting drenched with blood. There were turtles crawling all around me. My father sped off. I felt a bit sad as I was thinking that I should have asked him a few things as I knew I would never see him alive again.

I begin running over the turtles and tried to shield my eyes from the falling blood. I made it to an elementary school. I realized it was my old elementary school and not my brother's, but I could hear my brother crying. I found him. He was so little. I had forgotten how little he used to be. So cute. Suddenly I began to feel a bit more grounded. He was seated on a huge turtle. I pick him up and tried to comfort him with humor. I told him that one day he would be a very successful artist and would be a lot taller than me. He laughed at the idea that he would ever be bigger than me.



By the time we walked out of the school blood was no longer raining from the sky and the sun was out. The turtles were all gone and he and I are were in our graduation gowns. I started to feel a bit safer. He asked me if I knew where Dad was and I told him that he was gone. He took my hand and whispered that our family was very strange. I agreed, but told him he needed to be kind to our mom.

We heard a car crash into something. I picked my brother up --- and then I woke up.

I was unable to fall back into sleep, but it was only 5:30am, so I put my iPod on, pressed shuffle and shut my eyes:

1. "Custurd Pie" by Led Zep
2. "Number 1" by Goldfrapp
3. "The Gambler" by Kenny Rogers
4. "Times Square" by Marriane Faithfull
5. "Under the Bridge" by Red Hot C Peppers

...I fell back into sleep and woke up to the sound of the alarm at 6:45am. As I got dressed I wondered what in the world that dream was all about. I have never liked turtles and my family is strange. Hmmmm... Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. ...or, not.

9 Comments:

Blogger Dessie said...

Kudos on playing "Number 1", my favourite song ever since I first heard it the other day.

You know though Matt, we all have those 'back-in-time' dreams where we, Cassandra-like, are able to see what will happen but are powerless to do anything other than give good advice to the people we love. It shows some unworked issues you have obviously but take pride in the fact you did at least get through the dream with some sort of result.

10:50 PM  
Blogger g8s said...

That's a pretty intense dream. Have you mentioned it to your brother?

wv: reuwv

11:26 PM  
Blogger Jon said...

I am so jealous that you are able to remember dreams so vividly. I usually forget them within 10 minutes of waking up. That being said, that is quite a deep dream filled with meaning. I frequently have dreams that take palce in my past where i try to right some sort of wrong, or relive an event- which always fill me with anxiety. Were you able to go back to sleep after that?

4:23 AM  
Blogger matty said...

Aaron -- I think I LOVE every song on that Goldfrapp CD, but my absolute fave is I Want to Ride The White Horse.

Yeah, I think those dreams are needed for our psyches to work out stuff, but not much fun.

g8s -- No, I've not told him. We have a lot of trouble catching eachother "live" on the phone these days. He might read this, tho. He seldom comments.

Jon -- I've always remembered my dreams. I used to write them all down right after I had them when I aspired to be a writer or a film maker. This one just really haunted me. ...and, no, I could not fall back into sleep. Had to put on the iPod and just listen to music. I think I might have caught an additional 10 minutes or so -- but I was tired all day yesterday!

6:51 AM  
Blogger mattiebean said...

bon giorno signore.
it's 10am here but you're probably in the shower and drinking coffee at the same time; oop, graphic image--hmm, i should have been more wily and obnoxious.
i'm a bit peeved b/c i tried to send you an e-mail with the link on your blog page & after i wrote 2 precious paragraphs i wasn't able to send it--argh! Guess i don't have the software.
anyhow, i wanted to seriously suggest that you look into publishing a selection of these journal entries accompanied by the photos; you clearly put a lot of time into it and you are very eloquent. like any of your constituency of voyeurs, i too was disturbed by this recent nightmare entry; you are a tortured scorpio through and through, dear sir.
please do check out "don't let's go to the dogs tonight", a fantastic and original read, quite addictive--plus, the author uses these shabby photos to enhance her memoirs...pure wonder.
lastly, thank you for your encouragement and keen enthusiasm for my own fiction/memoirs; i'm once again taking the plunge into trying to get an agent, get published! i trust you are stimulated and happy in CA. mattie, Boston

7:25 AM  
Blogger Xavier said...

My God, Mate.......
Have you found a job yet or are you still freeloading out there in San Fran?
Do you live in reality?

8:15 AM  
Blogger matty said...

mattiebean -- Thank you so much! I would send you an email, but it isn't listed with your comment and I am not sure where your website is or which is yours -- obviously I read and love it, but am drawing a blank on "mattiebean" handle. My email address is matthewstanfield1112@yahoo.com

Xavier -- LOL! It was just a bad dream! But, YES! I secured a job and this was my 5th week of work! I start paying rent next month! So, "freeloader" no more --- tho, I hope my friends didn't feel that I was like that in the first place! (smile!)

12:44 AM  
Blogger digitic said...

Hummm ... new beginnings, Matt, new beginnings.

I'm tempted to over-analyze everything about your dream but I'll hold off on that for everybody's sake =)

Now as far ar your iPod music goes ... no Barry Manilow? Oy!

3:26 PM  
Blogger joe said...

i think it's super cool that you can remember your dreams. that's the best part of sleeping if you ask me. whether bad good sad happy or whatever, I always feel complete after I wake up from a night of dreaming. crazy, but hey, they're like movies to me.

and that was a weird, but most interesting turtle dream.

9:02 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home