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More on a dream, 1.9.19

January 10, 2019

3 spiders, working in close proximity, perhaps even cooperatively — but not as a team. 3 spiders creating sculptural fiber art.

A blue spider ~ When a color makes itself memorable in a dream, there is a reason for it, even if it takes me a while to puzzle it out. This blue wasn’t ordinary sky blue, azure, or robin’s egg blue. Nor was it “astonishment”, or “surprised by happiness” {synesthesia}.

About the best I can figure, the specific shade approximated “pleasant associations, but please be extra-aware of your surroundings”.                 That interpretation owes a lot to having recently seen [the excellent] Spider-Verse.


In the dream, the one man I clearly saw who was trapped in a transparent ball… resembled Chidi, from The Good Place. I can easily imagine how a professor of ethics might run afoul of the green-clad goons tasing people.

[I need to watch TGP season 2 again.]


One of the neighborhoods Spouse and I walked through… resembled CJ’s neighborhood near Plainfield, as it appeared in 2007.


Puget Sound, an estuary.

Wooded hills.


Leaving (almost) everything we’d traveled with behind us, but feeling zero anxiety about it.

Unfamiliar with the area, or how we got there. Being unreachable. Not predicting even the immediate future.


Dream-me and dream-Spouse working cooperatively and respectfully together. Complementing each other’s strengths, as we faced uncertainty (which is definitely more familiar and comfortable for me).


Dream-D didn’t listen to or know my reason for attending his shindig, but it was the usual reason I do anything: curiosity.                              It wasn’t, however, deep interest (or really, any interest) in the tech topics of the conference. It wasn’t respect for his subject knowledge. It certainly wasn’t respect for Dudebro.

I felt like mule handler Gereny Vox at a diplomatic reception on Jubal. She was probably dressed for comfort, too. Scruffy, even.

The more time I spend observing some (white) people from my past on IG, the more I realize how bland and boring their lives seem to me.   Everyone’s always happy and smiling and they all love each other, and I guess that’s cool, but… we’re all kinda trapped in Omelas, and which parts are they playing? Or, in whichever YA dystopia is popular just now, what do these people have at stake? Why do they care if the world burns? Do they care? I see no evidence of it.


Maybe the dirty, broken-down concrete wasn’t being refurbished nor recycled because the whole endeavor needs to be destroyed before Real Change could occur. [Not that Dudebro himself, nor his juggernaut organization, would be interested in wholesale change.]

Maybe I’ve finally realized that Dudebro ‘authorities’ offer nothing I care about, no vision for the world that I could possibly participate in.

My dream counterpart/aspect {that is, dream-Spouse}, however, who has historically behaved as an internal ‘authority figure’… they were half-entranced by Dudebro’s bullshit; I had to rescue them. How far did years of Being an Authority Figure, Like, For Realz, get them? Nowhere good.


I’ve got allies on the ground, helping me see what needs seeing. They’re generally not human, but that also means… hardly any (other) humans are paying attention to them. So the knowledge my allies offer… might be noticed but misinterpreted; more likely, though, it’s never perceived at all.




What stories could they tell, if anyone was listening?



Gereny Vox appears in Sheri S. Tepper’s After Long Silence, 1987.

Omelas is Ursula Le Guin’s creation.

I have a headcanon version of Loki that owes little to fictional representations I’ve read.

Earthmasters appear, obliquely, in Patricia McKillip’s Riddlemaster series, late 1970s.

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