Comments on: my modern cruelty http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/2008/10/14/my-modern-cruelty/ Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, and the green freedom of a cockatoo... Wed, 09 Dec 2009 18:02:24 +0000 http://wordpress.com/ hourly 1 By: Heather's mom http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/2008/10/14/my-modern-cruelty/#comment-96 Heather's mom Tue, 06 Jan 2009 20:28:15 +0000 http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/?p=181#comment-96 I've had some of the same dreams as Heather, and then others. Remembering when I was in the hospital with a total hip replacement due to a bad fall where I tripped over my feet when trying to pull up my beloved dog's diaper. I recalled that night, in the hospital, feeling that Becca was cold, shivering, and whinning to come in, with Heather's dad leaving her outside because he didn't want to clean up after her. It was 32 degrees according to the Weather Channel, a temperature that could actually kill a short haired pointer. It turned it that the dream was more like a reality, as when I returned home from the hospital, I learned and observed that my husband actually did leave our dog outside and without the warm, funny looking coat or sweater I bought her. He thought she looked funny in it and didn't feel a personal need for her to wear a warmer coat. After all, she was a dog. Bruce made Becca a place to sleep on the screened in, unheated porch and also said she had a dog house. True. But the dog house wasn't heated and it was 32 degrees outside. I slowly got out of bed and wheeled my walker to the back door and let Becca into the house. This was reality, being wide awake. It wasn't a dream it was real. Sometimes our dreams are trying to tell us something that could be happening in our present of our worst fears. Perhaps, they are warnings that are acted out while we dream. I’ve had some of the same dreams as Heather, and then others. Remembering when I was in the hospital with a total hip replacement due to a bad fall where I tripped over my feet when trying to pull up my beloved dog’s diaper. I recalled that night, in the hospital, feeling that Becca was cold, shivering, and whinning to come in, with Heather’s dad leaving her outside because he didn’t want to clean up after her. It was 32 degrees according to the Weather Channel, a temperature that could actually kill a short haired pointer.

It turned it that the dream was more like a reality, as when I returned home from the hospital, I learned and observed that my husband actually did leave our dog outside and without the warm, funny looking coat or sweater I bought her. He thought she looked funny in it and didn’t feel a personal need for her to wear a warmer coat. After all, she was a dog.

Bruce made Becca a place to sleep on the screened in, unheated porch and also said she had a dog house. True. But the dog house wasn’t heated and it was 32 degrees outside.

I slowly got out of bed and wheeled my walker to the back door and let Becca into the house. This was reality, being wide awake. It wasn’t a dream it was real.

Sometimes our dreams are trying to tell us something that could be happening in our present of our worst fears. Perhaps, they are warnings that are acted out while we dream.

]]> By: bethany http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/2008/10/14/my-modern-cruelty/#comment-93 bethany Wed, 15 Oct 2008 17:52:33 +0000 http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/?p=181#comment-93 powerlessness...feeling a lack of control... Me, I fail to save my loved ones from gruesome deaths night after night. It's the worst if my life is full of anxiety or stress. Rest easy. powerlessness…feeling a lack of control…

Me, I fail to save my loved ones from gruesome deaths night after night. It’s the worst if my life is full of anxiety or stress.

Rest easy.

]]> By: ohchicken http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/2008/10/14/my-modern-cruelty/#comment-92 ohchicken Tue, 14 Oct 2008 13:25:05 +0000 http://blackandsun.wordpress.com/?p=181#comment-92 maybe this butchering of small animals is all about how violent and detrimentalit is to un/consciously fragment ourselves in order to survive corporate life. but i think that's what you're saying anyway. in any case, it seems like all of the butchered animals in your dreams are able to be saved by your comforting arms. i think your poet is writing shock poetry in your dreams, friend. you're still in there, and you just need some practice to get out of bullet point mode. ...we're here to help, of course. :) x maybe this butchering of small animals is all about how violent and detrimentalit is to un/consciously fragment ourselves in order to survive corporate life. but i think that’s what you’re saying anyway. in any case, it seems like all of the butchered animals in your dreams are able to be saved by your comforting arms.

i think your poet is writing shock poetry in your dreams, friend. you’re still in there, and you just need some practice to get out of bullet point mode.

…we’re here to help, of course. :)

x

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