9.12.2018

Recalling a Dream - Too Much Stuff


Some day I'll get around to chronicling the chapters in my life by writing about the reoccurring dreams corresponding to each time period. I wrote about one reoccurring dream here, and below is another, one about too much stuff. 

Shit, shit, shit. Where did all of this craparoo come from and why did I think it was a good idea to hold on to so much of it? I’m never going to be able to fit all of it into my luggage and there’s not enough time to pare it down. Not that paring it down is even a possibility because each and every piece of this stuff must come on the plane with me.

I stare at the living room where messy plies dominate. Thrown haphazardly over the arm chair, stacked tower-like on the coffee table, and tossed thoughtlessly on the couch, an endless mess of things covers each and every piece of furniture and leaves just a small square of the floor exposed. My agitation and panic are further exasperated because I have to tiptoe around the stuff to make any progress with packing.

I can’t let it paralyze me. Slowly, trying to muster my inner Zen, I begin packing but the panic never leaves. What if I miss my flight? I'm utterly terrified of missing my flight. If I miss my flight the first domino that has to be pushed won’t cascade into the others setting off a chain of events that absolutely has to happen.

I push, stuff, thrust, and grunt and hope not to break the zipper of my suitcase. Somehow, I manage to fill it. I should be relieved but I’m not as I realize the stuff is multiplying. I’m doomed. This stuff is controlling me.

~
Dreams






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