Blue_Opossum

Night of April 4, 2014. Friday.



This is one of the only times in recent years I have deliberately tried to focus on a person I did not know at all (other than as an assumed bizarre and relentlessly narcissistic persona), though I have (not by intent) dreamt of the YouTube hillbilly conspiracy theorist a few times (one dream being precognitive of his finding a much younger wife).

In my dream, there is only one main scene of a man riding backwards on a horse. He goes about in circles seeming very delighted and pleased. There seems no threat of injury. This is close to being a “glowing dream” but does not reach that visual quality (that is, a dream where everything seems to glow from within, sort of like a photographic negative but with correct color). He leans forward over the back of the horse, his upper body eventually being nearly horizontal to the horse. His head, with the side of it touching the horse’s back (as if seemingly attempting to hear something - but probably only incidental in appearance as such) is mostly over the croup and his hands open and about the horse’s hips for the most part. He continues to seem delighted as the horse gallops about but he never sees me at any point. He seems very proud and fulfilled over how “well” he is doing in a sort of absentminded, yet totally certain way.

He is dressed informally and has flushed cheeks with a reddish nose and even a reddish chin, with a sort of odd pale complexion as if out of the sun for a long time or appearing to have a continuous “alcohol complexion”. He grins in euphoria. It is almost as if he views the horse as his own body. Even though he is riding backwards, it seems to be how things have “always been” for him, almost as if he is not aware that a horse has a head.

Eventually, he has a very large bed-sheet (or possibly a picnic blanket), wearing it over himself sort of like an implied cape, leaning down closer to the back even more as if the horse were like a bed, with the tail being the head of the bed. Eventually, he covers himself completely (somehow able to hold onto part of it) as the sheet moves up and about almost like distorted wings of an airplane. I stand puzzled and wondering if he will see me, but no. At one point, the sheet waves like a flag. I continue to watch, feeling a sense of hilarity as well as a sincere pity.