lunagoddess

Driving around a city for some important reason. I was involved but I was also watching what was happening like a show and reading about it in a book simultaneously. Something about a staged riot where a blonde couple I knew were pretending to be religious and they thought it was unfair to be presenting a lie of perfection to everyone else. Something involving older men in a gypsy tent with young girls bellydancing, I’m one of the girls. The next day I drive to the grocery store. I’m only visiting this town. It’s busy and I find a close parking spot but have to walk a long way. I go in and see some plastic jewels to put around the eyes. An older man buys them and his friends laugh at him a little, he has zero shame. I want to buy some but am embarrassed with all the men nearby. I can get them at the store in my hometown but I might forget. I see small boxes of cereal and the brands I ate growing up were now labeled, “legal or not?” I thought it was bizarre. I see some people I know. I check out with only a few items because I told someone, “as I was shopping I realized I had most of the items I was looking for.” It takes forever to check out. When I get to the checker he’s gay and pudgy. He directs me to the card machine and I start to sign my name but accidentally cancel my order and have to start over. He does the rest for me.

Sitting in a grassy lawn with a group of girls. We’re curious what’s going on in a small building covered with vines. We know the boys are in there. It’s a group of celibate, religious boys. An overweight, tall, middle aged woman comes up to us and encourages us to go inside because the men are looking for wives. I say, “well I’m married so I’m not sure that would be appropriate.’ But I go in with the other girls anyway. It looks like my aunt’s old house. One of the guys there we’re familiar with. He’s young with shaggy brown hair and it looks like he’s plucked his eyebrows excessively so they’re a little farther apart than they should be. I sit down and talk with him and he talks a lot. He talks about finding a wife. He says "one can’t be picky unless they want to wake up crying and alone every morning." He talks about his celibacy and there’s a picture of him hanging on the wall. I contemplate that perhaps I would have married him if I was single. He’s not bad, but I seem to have higher standards than him. And could he handle my moods? He continues talking about how the men are supposed to “judge" each other by eavesdropping on their arguments. He gets really angry when they close the door and argue in private. Secretly I can’t help but wonder if these celibate men are having gay sex with each other. An older blonde man like Steve Avery pokes his head through the window to the inside and gets one of the older brunette girls to climb out. I guess they had a secret date.
We’re out sitting on the lawn again in front of an old, abandoned mansion. After talking with that boy I’m contemplating my life and how it is now versus if I had taken the Christian route that I had intended as a child. As I imagine life as a devout Christian, all the colors in the dream start to become dull and almost gray. I have a premonition of a creepy orgy involving all the nearby celibate christians taking place in the mansion. All of them have demonized faces and are making eye contact with me. It made me really uncomfortable. The premonition faded and the colors were still dull. Yet I saw a red flower come back to life and regain vibrancy, but the wind blew it away. I desperately chased after it and caught it. I went into the mansion and talked with one of the older men. Once I got inside I knew it was the beginning of my premonition. I decided to leave and he wasn’t letting me out. I screamed for help and finally someone saw us, so the man let me go. Everyone had left the yard and the person who saw us told us we needed to hurry and run. The sky had turned dark gray. I wasn’t sure what was happening but we ran. When we got to the neighboring yard the grass was replaced with dark, brown water. We had to swim and it hurt my ears. Once we got to the house they let us in. The host was a very rich young lady from the 1800s.

Having dinner with my entire family, all sides. I’m eating lamb and made jalapeño butter to go with it. A guy says his meat is too tough. I offer him some of my lamb and he doesn’t want it. In the kitchen the cabinets remind me of my dad’s house. Except some are fucked up and won’t close or have cutouts in weird shapes to be able to close. I test alexia’s allergies afterward and they’re moderate-high. That means she’s allergic to the either the peanut butter or the shrimp.

Someone tells me that my dreams are weird and f*cked up and that must mean I’m f*cked up. I argue about that, suggesting that perhaps it means I’m even less f*cked up.