4/17/2023 -
In a liminal state I'm told that I'm about to receive a lesson plan that's catered specifically to me. I get up and go to the bathroom, lie back down, and am informed of the exact same thing. Most of the stuff we show you would be applicable to nearly everyone, this is applicable only to you. OK then.
What is this lesson? Well, first a long dream about me spending time with the family that briefly took me in when I moved back to Ohio in high school. Long story but they were super nice people and honestly it was my first exposure to a non-dysfunctional family. Like, I didn't know non-dysfunctional families were a thing until I lived with these people for a while during my senior year. It was eye opening to say the least.
Anywho, in this scenario my brother's staying with them and I'm visiting for dinner. This goes on for a long time and the only real highlights worth mentioning include that when I finish my dinner, there's immediately an ice cream sundae on my plate. I look at it and am like, I love these people but I'm going to get fat if I keep eating with them (this is legit the way they were in real life, constantly cooking amazingly tasty but rather unhealthy American staples). Then we're chasing their dog around the house and having a ball. The point isn't the specifics, the point is the vibe. Everyone is super happy and chill and supportive and honestly, they're so nice to me that I sort of feel bad at not being more gracious or thankful for it.
Next scenario. I'm at this backstage party/pre show dinner for a rock show. What is this rock show? Well, Bill Murray is now fronting the Rollins Band apparently but I'm there eating with the opening act. They're this multi-racial indie rock outfit and we're just chilling in this strangely elaborate backstage area eating before the show. I've heard Bill Murray is kind of a dick in real life but at one point I'm in a situation where it'd be awkward not to talk to him. I have nothing to say to the guy but I'm like:
"Is Sim Cain drumming with you guys tonight?"
Sim Cain is the original drummer for the Rollins Band for those not in the know and Bill has zero clue what I'm talking about. He doesn't understand the question at all and I'm like: Wow, what a dilettante. He doesn't even know the history of the band he's fronting. I can see his behavior from across the room and he is coming across like a bit of an asshole but before he leaves, he grabs my head and starts obsessively kissing it like he's kissing a baby in comedy bit fashion, which is rather funny I must confess.
Now we're at the show and I also must confess that I typically don't like this style of indie rock but the band we were chilling with backstage is in fact really good. At least the one song they're playing. I'm sort of surprised I'm actually enjoying it. Then I realize that Thurston Moore is in the crowd and has been pulled in to sing a few parts with them. Wow, if Thurston likes these guys I suppose I was being too quick to judge them solely based on genre.
The next thing I know, I've now somehow traveled into the recent past right before I headed to the show. I'm looking at like this video game map and it focuses in on this smaller college town in the hills. That's where the show is. Now I'm getting more context as I'm invited to the show by this woman who I get the distinct impression is trying to get into my pants. We're at this lunch counter type thing and she's buying me dinner. I'm not buying her anything so I'm sort of uncomfortable with this.
Now I'm in my friend's apartment (who isn't actually my friend in actual life I might point out). We're discussing going to the show and he pulls up the band we're meeting up with on the internet because he's never heard of them either. We both agree that they're sort of like a new version of the Beastie Boys in a way. Then these women show up.
It's the woman who bought me dinner and she's this shorter slightly overweight white woman with jet black hair and her much younger friend with short blond hair. This younger friend immediately sidles up to me on the couch flirtatiously while the other woman delivers the dinner she bought for me. It's this weird, very elaborate box meal that seems very Scandinavian. There's like dried fish and bread and all these weird utensils included. I thank her profusely but also, I'm again sort of uncomfortable about the fact that she bought this for me and I didn't get her anything. I know the implications and I'm not super cool with it.
She mentions that her younger blonde friend thinks Gigi Hadid is old and I laugh and tell her that I'm 45. She's shocked but the woman who bought me dinner gives her a knowing glance. See, he's too old for you. She brought this up on purpose.
That is about all of the dream that I remember and honestly I'm baffled. This was supposed to be a lesson directed specifically at me and like, what's the lesson? That some people have families that don't suck. That some people are far more successful musicians than me and because of that their waking lives are far more interesting than mine? Cool. Thanks for pointing that out.
I uhh, I guess I need to acknowledge that not everyone grew up in a family that didn't give a single fuck about them, some musicians do succeed, and some people don't spend most of their lives with broken endocrine systems that make them constantly miserable. I suppose I don't acknowledge how much my circumstances influence my overall worldview. Or maybe there is a future where my waking life isn't as soullessly boring as it currently is and I do finally find my tribe as it were. One can only hope.
Update:
The more I contemplated this, the more it actually made perfect sense, it's just brutal. They're pointing out the very subjective flaws in my psychology to me. Like, who else on earth would have a dream about hanging out with a happy family and come away from this experience pissed off? Who else would have a dream about hanging out with a successful band and come away from this experience angry? Not many.
And yes, I do have to acknowledge that watching my abjectly terrible parents turn into super supportive grandparents annoys the living shit out of me on a fundamental level. Spending time with my step sister's family irks me because they're so involved and supportive of their kids in a way my parents never ever were, even sort of. I legit haven't played a show as a musician in 8 years. Do you think I'm happy about that? Obviously not. They calculatedly pointed out several glaring weaknesses in my own psychology to me. If I don't deal with them, I might end up a freakish asshole like Bill Murray. God only knows what issues he isn't dealing with. It's like, got it. Try not to be bitter about other people's success and happiness.
While I fell asleep later that night, whatever you want to call "they" seemed legitimately impressed that I managed to grasp this lesson plan so quickly.
4/12/2023 -
Dreams with a similar theme to the prior night. First I'm staying with this family and in this large like clay colored stucco house, which is weird because I've never spent any time in a house that looks like this in my entire life. Anyway, it's a family all living together in the same place and one of the adult children has just had a child of their own. Because of this, the new grandparents have moved back into the house to help take care of the new baby. This goes on for a while but at one point the baby is waking up in the early morning. The new grandpa rushes downstairs to help but the scene then focuses over to me, who's lying in bed in another room on the same floor, sleeping peacefully while not lifting a single finger to help with child care. This even jars me slightly in the dream but not in a negative way, just in a recognition sort of way. Like, yeah, I don't get involved with that sort of shit. True story.
Would I have a kid if I grew up in a non-dysfunctional family or spent my life with a functioning endocrine system? Probably. Later I'm shown this scene where I fix a plumbing issue with the house that no one else wants to deal with. It's not that I don't help out, I just don't help out with childcare. The message is pretty clear: some people just aren't meant to raise children and that's A-OK. Not the first time they've pointed this out to me in fact, the last time what I was told specifically was that some people are meant to raise children, some people are meant to talk to UFOs. Word.
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