Every once in awhile I feel a spike in awareness, in creativity. It’s like it comes in phases and I’m never sure when it will happen or how long it will last, before it fades back into a muted kind of chaos. The chaos is comforting, it’s warm but it’s also a bit blurry. The awareness is exciting in it’s clarity but also moves fairly fast and can bring some darkness with it, so I don’t necessarily seek it out.
My favorite actor, Richard Armitage, is set to have a recurring role in the television program Hannibal. When I found this out I was a bit wary. I did the whole serial killer curiosity thing years ago, during my many viewings of The Silence of the Lambs and that phase my best friend went through when he sent me serial killer trading cards and we discussed all the different personalities, etc. I didn’t like residing in that headspace then and I wasn’t real thrilled that I might end up going there again with this serial killer role that Richard Armitage is preparing for. The blood I don’t like, the violence/torture I hate, but the psychological aspects I can’t resist! As more of my fellow Richard Armitage fans shared background on the character, I could see why Richard was attracted to this part. I hope he doesn’t make him too sympathetic though, I do not want to save the psycho again (I’ve already done that countless times before).
Last Friday I stumbled across some episodes of Hannibal on the internet and decided to watch the first two. The first episode was innocent enough but the second one was more freaky. A few fans were discussing the book that the character came from, Red Dragon, and I became very much intrigued…then the dreams started. again *sigh* I know how to handle them now, I’m older and wiser and all of that but it’s kind of annoying. Why can’t I have the clarity and spark in creativity without the darkness? blah!
**Warning: these dreams may be disturbing. They involve assault and crimes of passion
I’m at a rest stop in an older model car, an Oldsmobile maybe? It’s mint green in color. The rest stop is a little picnic area with rusty metal grills and a stone water fountain amongst a copse of trees. I’m cleaning out my car because I’ve spilled something while driving. I hear another car pull in off the gravel road and out of the corner of my eye I see a tall broad shouldered man get out of the passenger side. I’m messing with the floor mats of my car and I continue on with what I”m doing, trying not to acknowledge the man. Another man, this one skinny, gets out of the driver’s side and I hear them talking. My senses are telling me that these two men are trouble. I want to throw the stuff in my open trunk and get the hell out of there but I somehow know that they are watching me intently, and at my first move towards leaving they will prevent me. They’re like dogs, taking a mild interest in me that might amount to nothing if I don’t run; if I run, they will chase. I try to prolong my cleaning, even though I’m actually finished. I hear a loud bang and instinctively look towards the men. Big mistake. The noise was made on purpose to get my attention and now that I’ve acknowledged them, made eye contact with the large man, he’s slowly walking towards me. I go back to my “work” and see his boots and dirty blue jeans out of the corner of my eye as he stops next to me. He says hello and tries for small talk, so I’m forced to turn and look at him head on. The shrinking violet routine is exactly what he wants, and so I give him the opposite. He’s not looking at my eyes though he’s looking at my white shirt that has coffee stains down the front. He takes his finger and slowly moves it across my shirt, saying it looks like I’ve had myself an accident. This man is very large and very strong. I know that this isn’t going to stay innocent for long and that I won’t be able to fight him. He’ll grab my arms and I won’t be able to move, just like when I was young and my brother would immobilize me for “fun”. The man’s finger wanders towards my breast and I decide to react, just get whatever is going to happen over with. He wants to toy with me, drag it out, give my fear time to build but I’m not going to let that happen. I briefly think of my kids, who appear older than they are in my vision for some reason, as I knee this man in the groin. Hard. He bends forward a little but then grabs my forearms and jerks me to him so quickly that it snaps my head back and I see the tops of the trees touch the sky…and I wake up.
I’m not scared necessarily, my heart isn’t beating fast or anything. I’m just like “okay. hmm. haven’t had one of those in awhile. maybe it’s just a fluke.” Dreams the next few nights are innocent but very clear. I have a feeling a spark has caught- hopefully I’ll get good dreams, exciting dreams, out of this and not scary ones. Then I have the dream about the girl in the bar.
I’m a man meeting up with my ex-girlfriend in a small dark bar. Seems like it might be a country-western bar because the floor is wood and the tables are old and rickety. She’s sitting across the table from me: cute with short blonde hair. I’m surprised that she’s agreed to meet me and that our small talk is going so smoothly, considering our dramatic break up that took place in my apartment 3 weeks ago. She must really want this purse back. I have a smaller sized pink purse that she left at my place, that I’m returning to her. It has a long string of pearls inside of it, along with some odds and ends of make-up and whatnot. Normally I wouldn’t give a shit about it but I know that necklace belonged to her grandmother and so I’m trying to be decent and give it back to her. The music is loud in the bar and it’s clear now that it’s not country-western but more of a club beat. The lights are flashing along to the music, making her shimmery white tank-top shirt sparkle and the glitter on the pink purse twinkle. She gets up to get a drink from the bar and asks me if i want anything. I say no because I need to use the restroom. Now I’m no longer the man but watching the scene unfold before me. The man gets up from the table and I see that he’s a good looking guy,which surprises me for some reason. He looks kind of like Demetri from MI-5, though shorter. He has some ink on his forearm but I can’t make out what it is. His jean-clad legs carry him down the hall to the restroom and my attention switches to the girl at the bar. She seems well put together, fit, bangles on her wrists. Not badass but not ditzy either. She tells the bartender what she wants and while she’s waiting, she leans her back against the bar and looks out over the crowd. Not many people are there but more are trickling in. I smell water, like maybe the bar is next to a lake? A man approaches the woman at the bar and starts chatting her up. She knows what he’s doing and isn’t interested but he seems harmless so she talks to him while she’s waiting for her drink. He makes her laugh and this is what the man sees when he returns from the restroom. I’m the man again and seeing her laugh like that with another man pisses me the fuck off. My face and neck feel very hot and her laugh is a screech that I want to shut up! I see the sparkly purse on the table, unlatch the clasp and pull out the string of pearls. The woman comes back to the table with her drink and asks me what I’m doing. I react, wrap the long strand of pearls around her neck and pull tightly. Now I’m not the man anymore but am watching it happen, like I’m actually there in the room now. I’m horrified at what he’s doing but more out of disappointment; he seemed like an okay guy. Other people are slowly becoming aware of what is going on but I continue to stand still. It’s not that I’m afraid or that I don’t know how to help, I just don’t want to. I’m feeling a detached fascination with what will happen next. Then I’m outside on the dock at the front of the bar (it is on a lake) and I see the man burst out of the door with the woman in tow. He jumps into the water, which is only knee-high. I see random oil slicks reflected in the water from the lights on the outside of the bar and stray cigarette butts floating. The man continues to walk deeper into the lake and I know he’s going to drown them both. That’s a shame. It’s then that I slowly start to see bodies in the water as the small tide laps against the dock. Bodies upon bodies all in rows, bright peach colored skin with no clothes, limbs bent in odd angles, under the water- not floating but kind of just there. How many people have gone nutty and thrown themselves into this lake?! Geesh! People are dumb. Then the bodies become more cartoon-looking and I see a weird little boy out in the middle, sitting in a movie theatre seat, eating a white Popsicle. Must be lemonade flavored…I wake up.
I’m not scared but in awe of the detail of the dream. And pissed off at the same time: damn it! I don’t want these dreams! I want the cutesy Richard Armitage ones instead!!
Now that I’ve written them down, I feel them leaving. That’s good. It’s a Friday night again and I”m bored and I need something interesting…so I search out the book Red Dragon and find a copy. I read the first 2 chapters and feel that spark. Lemme go find a cozy blanket and some candy, then I’ll buckle in and just try to enjoy the ride. Roller-coasters can be fun sometimes.