You know when you first wake up and you're kinda between consciousness and semi-consciousness? And you remember some fragments of your dreams? Most times they fade away within minutes but here are some recent dream vignettes that stuck with me:I'm in my "parent's house" but it's a house they never lived in. I sneak in and make my way to a back bedroom. I'm cold, dirty and tired. I get in the bed to catch some sleep. My mother passes by the open bedroom door, sees me in the bed and doesn't seem surprised. She just says, "Oh, Michael is here."
John N. and I are in some attic somewhere in the present day, yet he still looks like he's a teenager. He's on the phone and tells the caller that he and I are "partners" but I know he is referring to our stage act. We are performers in a traveling troupe of comedians or jugglers or something. No, that's not it...actually, we are drag queens. Yes, that's it, drag queens.
I'm moving furniture around a bedroom that I know is mine but it's not like any I've had in real life. As I'm pushing the bed across the hardwood floor, I reach up and grab my hair. I pull the hair and detach my head from my body. I nonchalantly put my head on the bed. It looks just like me except that the top of the head is slightly deformed with ridges and bumps and it tapers to a slight cone. The hair is patchy and sparse. My neck is a mere giblet of wrinkled skin dangling from the bottom of my head. My head's eyes are open and looking around. I don't know how I can "see" all this since my body no longer has a head, and, of course, no eyes.