One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy

A sidewalk

I find myself on a city street in a quaint little shopping district. It almost looks fake, like a movie lot. I am on the sidewalk and the streets are lined with little shops. There are parked cars and some moving cars, but I don't see any people.

I look in the window of the shop I am standing in front of. In the window, there are two large hand-painted signs. They read:

'Happy' is what makes you smile.

'Funny' is what makes you laugh.

Hmm. Quite interesting. I start to look closer and ponder what deeper wisdom these statements might hold. But just as I do so, a woman jogs past me from left to right, briefly interrupting my view. My gaze follows her as she continues to jog, unaware of me. She is stunningly beautiful. She wears bright red leggings and a black jogging bra that leaves her midriff bare in between. It's The Goddess, of course. From the side glimpse I got as she passed, and even looking at her from behind, I can tell her breasts are huge. She also wears neon green running shoes. Her hair is dark brown and gathered up in a simple pony tail. She wears headphones. I am filled with desire for her, but she is aloof. Just out on her daily run. She jogs to the end of the block and stops, waiting for the light.

I start to run after her, but just as I do, the light changes and she resumes her jog away from me. As I give chase, I am entranced by how her body moves from behind. I could chase her forever, I think. But I immediately notice the irony of this statement. I'm not getting any closer at this speed, so I likely will be chasing forever.

I stop running. She stops too at the end of the next block. I know if I start running again, so will she. She will always be one block away. I turn to look back and maybe find another solution.

As I turn, I now see two other girls just a couple paces from me. They are pretty too, but in a different way. They look like identical twins and models. Platinum blonde hair, pale skin, and white clothes. Not jogging attire, but white halter tops and white mini-skirts. They are attractive but not in the best way, they look like bimbos. This is a recurring motif in my dreams, girls dressed in white who act as a foil to the more colorful Goddess. There arms are folded, which I take to mean they are impatient and closed-off. They glare at me with an annoyed bratty expression that says: "Umm, get out of our way, loser."

I'm still horny though, so I quickly approach them and start grabbing at their bodies. It feels good and I focus on the feeling. They barely react; they just uncomfortably shift and grunt as they try to avoid my fondling. So, while it is pleasing to me in a purely physical way, I stop because they aren't enjoying it. And if they don't enjoy it then I can't enjoy it.

I step away from them. They express some relief but still vain little brats. I look off in the distance, wondering if I can still catch the jogger in red. I spot her but she's really far away now. She's crossing another street and my sight of her gets lost among the cars.

Oh well. I messed that up. I look to my left, into the window of another shop. Here, there is just one sign, hand-painted like the others from before. It simply reads:

Remember

I remember the other two signs about 'Happy' and 'Funny.' What does it all mean? I transition to hypnopompia as I ponder what lesson The Dreaming was trying to deliver to me.

Some cliché sayings come first, and it seems the numbers one and two are most prominent. I think of A bird in hand is better than two in the bush. Though in my dream it seemed the opposite: A girl in the bush is better than two in hand. Ha. That's a nice twist. That makes me think of killing two birds with one stone. And also, of the Buddha's parable of the two arrows.

It's all interesting stuff and I'm amused. But I think, Yes, yes, Dreaming, but we've been down those roads. Duality. Irony. Choice. Desire. Vanity. Ecclesiastes. What was different about this one?

Then I remember a children's story by Shel Silverstein. In the poem, a young boy receive a dollar from his parents. He trades the one dollar for two quarters "because two is more than one." In turn, he trades the quarters for three dimes, and then four nickles, and is finally left with five pennies. He started with $1 and ends with $0.05. Amused at this distant memory and how it might be connected, I recall that this poem is from a collection called Where The Sidewalk Ends and I was on a sidewalk in the dream.