Friday, October 6, 2023, 4:30 AM
Well, it’s taken awhile but I finally got down to it; the horror at the bottom of the well. I have not been working on Eleutheria for a while. Since the fourteenth of September actually, neither have I written down my dreams, but I knew their was something brewing, or stewing, ( I will discuss my word choices later ). I had added Calea Zacatachichi, to my nightly lucid dream tea mixture on September 6th, and found that I had introduced a chemical that prompted me to have violent and disturbing, though non-lucid dreams. To be sure, in some of them, I was able to proceed to lucidity, but it was in the hypnogogic state that this happened. The last dream I reported on September 9th, in Tulpamancy Journal. 342, resulted in an important insight, or rather, articulation of my attitude regarding my marriage. I was pleased by being able to see, and state so clearly how my life was going. My conscious life. Nancy’s reaction, when I shared the dream with her, left me wondering, what was brewing underneath. This night’s dream showed me, and believe me, stewing, is a better descriptor. I was at a party. It was held in a turkish bathhouse attached to a mosque. In this dream, time was not flowing, I knew from the beginning of the dream, what the ending was to be. I was afraid of what was to happen. It was this, I was in a special room with perhaps a dozen other people in various states of dress. I came upon a beautiful woman, a Spanish actress, Rocio Munoz. She was dressed exotically. She was into me! We began to make love, and she became suddenly, very turned off. Like she was disgusted by our nakedness. I persisted, and while I didn’t actually force myself into her, she made it clear, she wasn’t willing. I had just gotten started with the intercourse when there was a disturbance and an attendant pulled her away from me, dressed her, and took her into a pool of green water. I followed but couldn’t quite reach them. They got away through a labyrinth, into another room. I heard shots. When I got to the room, I found blood stains then I found her, dead, in an adjacent room. The person who had taken her, a smaller younger woman, was dead too, but when I uncovered Rocio, I saw her chest had been blown open and her heart was a pulpy chopped bloody mess. Somebody came and led me out of the room. I went through the mosque. In it were the mufti’s, all in blue and white silk robes and turbans. They were disinterested in me. I was taken to another room and enclosed in a room of yellow Styrofoam panels. I was told to lie still as the Japanese were coming to kill the Arabs. Shooting commenced and a bomb went off killing everyone in the room except for me. I got up, dressed in a brown monks robe and found my way out of the building and into the street where I was safe. I awoke, it was 3:43 AM and the horror of the image of the woman with whom I had been so engaged was stuck in my mind. I began to meditate and all became clear, I had found my red witch, Rufescent. I was left with survivor’s guilt. It was 4:04 AM I tried to go back into the dream, with lucidity, I did and I changed the ending, to one in which I did catch up with Rocio, dressed her in black, and led her out of the pool to safety. It didn’t work, I couldn’t get either the image, nor the emotion, out of my mind, so I got up to record this experience, sleep, desired, was far away. Nancy soon got up and asked if it were still night, and should she go back to sleep. That was at 4:30 AM and I sent her back to bed.
Questions; had I not ‘forced’ myself’ on her, would she have lived? Was her death a projection and a reversal of my guilt? Was my guilt a distortion of my anger at her rejection, after her acceptance, of my love? Were the mufti’s, in Israeli colored clothing, a representation of my own super-ego? Did I escape punishment, by cloaking myself in religion?
I have posed these questions, not because I am at all interested in the answers, but because my mind has put them forward as cognitive machinations to cover my intense discomfort. Horror does not digest well. I have wondered for a very long time why I was not able to maintain a sexual relationship with anyone. We start off wonderfully. Then, I am rejected. I see why. My love is fatal to the woman. It is mixed with anger and guilt. Thank you Flora and KK for staying out of this one and letting me see.
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