…and I’m usually the victim. But the other night, I had a kick-ass dream in which I totally took back every ounce of power I ever eeked out into the universe, or just plain threw away.
It went a little something like this…
I know I live in a military state, and as my dark and disheveled apartment shifts into focus I am increasingly aware that I have slipped onto the wrong side of it. An alert strains to sound from the dying television and my face flashes across a snowy screen along with those of so many other “rebels”. My heart gives one beat to aching as the manhunt begins.
Time to pack a bag: clothes, but just as much as I can immediately carry; food, but just a few perishables, as I can always barter for more later. I happen to have no cash, and if my assets have not been frozen they will be soon.
Heart racing, I kick lead feet out the door and blink in the sunlight with provisions only half secured in my bag.The whole world has paused its dreary mechanical churning to stand still and stare at me in cheerful indignation. An electric blue Cadillac sidles up to my building and, lazily straddling three parking spots, vomits out a crew of enforcers led by a fashionably leather-clad harbinger of death. We are definitely spinning again.
In a panic I bolt toward my car flinging bag, jacket, spare pants, t-shirt, red apples in various directions that all lead inevitably down. I soon realize, though, that I will not make it before bullets begin to fly in my direction and a futile effort would be a waste of energy. I go limp and feel my knees, fingers, head sink into the cool blanket of grass over warm earth as the first shots shatter a stained-glass afternoon of eery silence.
It is timed perfectly and every bullet whizzes just passed me as I fall so convincingly.
But. will. he. believe?
He hovers over me and shakes with rage as breath still pours in and out of my frame. I am panting from that ridiculous half-sprint. His minions circle round like vultures; he hunkers down for the kill. I know that I will take a few punches, and after the shock of the first blow I relax into it – not into the pain, but into the understanding that when he becomes arrogant and convinced of my certain demise, there will arise an opportunity.
At last, at very long last he leans back on his haunches to marvel at the mess he has made of me and to take a breath himself. I see my opportunity; it is all so clear. With little effort I whip my legs up behind him and grip his head with my FEET. I calmly use the force and friction of rubbing my ankles together around his FACE to deftly SNAP his NECK…BAM! His rag doll body slumps off of me and henchmen momentarily scatter. I leap to my feet victorious, and suddenly refreshed. Let.the. manhunt. begin.
That’s when I wake up with the peace and confidence that after that madness, nuthin’s gonna keep me down.
Anyway, I love dream logic and I LOVE dream-me! 😀 I would NOT want to run into dream-me in a dark alley. She is a bad-ass who is not acquainted with the laws of physics. Real-life-me is still a spaz. 😦 Real-life-me went grocery shopping last and ran into a wall. No, no, not the cart – me. Sigh.