I thought I'd continue the meme of writing about bat-shit insane dreams started (most recently) by Mita a few days back (her blog, This Particular Web, quietly joined the Hermeneutic Blog Circle a couple of weeks ago, so this will serve as an overdue welcome. If you haven't read her post about talking dumpsters, you haven't...read...it. Or lived. Or something). Some time early this morning I had a dream that seems blog-worthy in its out-there-ness.
Jos shows up in my dreams from time to time, in a very Six Feet Under kind of way. I had one dream a couple of months ago where I was hiking in Swansea and had become lost. I stopped to look at some kind of map that was there at the side of the road, and I heard someone from behind me say, "Lost, Pablo?" (Pablo being what he used to call me), I turned around and it was he. He walked me down the hill and, before leaving me on some kind of Swansea public beach, told me a bunch of things which at the time seemed very important, but which I couldn't of course remember when I woke up. Thus, when he showed up in my dream last night I tried very hard to pay attention to what he was saying.
So, the dream: I'm in Pacific Place, which is a shopping mall in downtown Seattle, and somebody who looks like Jos comes off the down escalator. I walk up to him and at first I'm not sure it looks quite like him; "Jos?" I say, "is that you?" The person says something to the effect of, "No, but hold on a minute," and I look at him again and now he definitely looks like Jos. We start to walk towards some store and I'm trying to pay close attention to what he's saying, but the only thing I can remember now is this snippet of conversation:
Jos: Listen, Pablo, you have to stop what you're doing. You're going to destroy humanity.
Me: What, you mean with the things I am blogging about?
This dream ends when Jos hands me a pipe containing what he explains are the dregs of things smoked by the people on his side (the implication being that the actual substances themselves would be way too much for the living) (please hold your snickering until the end, thank you very much). I partake of his mysterious herbs and immediately wake up. End of dream.
I'll leave the commentary to you. Two things are clear, though:
a) I seem to have failed to take his advice, and
b) You are now reading The Forbidden Blog.
You have been warned.