Real Dreaming

Most people just cant understand,cant fathom for a minute,But most people aren’t me,don’t have the same set of circumstances. But here it is.I hate Disney,not just Disney but Warner Brothers too,throw in Hanna Barbera and your getting close.I absolutely hated the bedroom adornments that are the norm ,the preferred decoration for most NORMAL kids rooms.Mine was just an open cupboard door to me,a dark forbidding void under the bed.The macabre and dreaded “boogie man”Well thats where all my Bugs Bunny and Wile e coyote stuff ended up.In the very back of the cupboard(I couldn’t stand the thought of it under my bed).I couldn’t get rid of it soon enough.
Why you say,What is wrong with you! you exclaim.I have heard this all before.The disbelief and the mocking the snide remarks and the jibes.This is precisely why i never mentioned it as a child.I tried early on of course “he just having another nightmare” they said “he doesn’t want to miss out on anything”.”Hes too excited” “read a book” they said,well that did help a little,at least i could get to sleep in the first place.But a double edged sword, to say the least.As the more i read.The greater my imagination the more i learned.The more realistic and fantastic my imagination became.I learned of the world of men,what i learned was that Foghorn leghorn,Bugs bunny and even the psychotic and demented Wile E coyote had nothing on men,when it came to cruelty carnage and general contempt for life and property.Mere and mortal man reined supreme.much to my dismay and chargrin.As unfortunately or fortunately as the case may be.My dreams were real....,i can show you the scars.
My body is covered in them now,I never wear short pants or singlets.Always a shirt at the beach.My parents were concerned about me,”Accident prone” they said.”Be more careful” the cajoled,”Not again!” they admonished.It was starting to get too much for my mother at one stage,”What will the doctor think of us Jim?”she would,plead with me to be safeThe doctor was eyeing her suspiciously.But my mother was and is a saint.Not conceivable that she be involved,in any violent acts upon Jimmy’s person,you could imagine him thinking.So he would look to my father.Angry that his idiot son had been injured yet again.
So i decided to put up with any pain,to repair any damage,myself.Lord knows i’d seen it done enough times.So i procured a kit of medical supplies,antiseptic and sterilizing solutions a needle and thread and proceeded to sew my own injuries..i found if iced thoroughly,it eased the pain a little.I did a pretty good job,.,It certainly kept me out of the doctors office so as far as i was concerned...Job done..
My academic progress was disappointing to my parents.But hey,You try to learn something,to achieve after battling it out with Yosemite Sam all night, especially when he regards you as nothing but an accursed “VARMINT”I was extremely lucky that he exhibited a decided lack of forethought and shamefully poor marksmanship.But i did learn something from him,Be prepared for anything,be good with a gun,be good with a sword.I was forever training at some archaic sport or marshal art,some pugilistic endeavour.people thought i had a mean streak.That i loved to hurt others,how wrong they were.I was just trying to survive!
I didn’t realise at the time,that my choice of subject matter,greatly influenced my dreams.Had i known,i could have been reading girly novels and romancing with princesses,in far away and mystical realms.But alas my tastes were more manly from death defying stunts and arduous discovery to a long and drawn out campaign of all out war.History is riddled with bloodshed and i’d routinely find my self surrounded with the horror and mayhem,of the longest drawn out battles that man kind has ever seen.Unlike the rest of those poor bastards i’d eventually wake up from the nightmare.I often wondered about my comrades in these dreams,what became of them.Were they real,as in real people from the past or just pawns of my subconscious mind.Sprung from the ether,to sink back to the ether again.At once as i awoke.My discovery that subject influenced my subconscious came about,quite by accident as a result of a trip to the local library,where i was a familiar face to the librarians there..I was borrowing a book on Greek Mythology,i cant remember what it was called when i caught a glimpse of my library card....the last dream was based on the last book i had borrowed the one before the next,and so on through the list.Thats when the penny dropped for me,my thoughts ignited a chain reaction and one realisation led to another.The possibilities and the probabilities results and ramifications tore through my mind.Like a white knuckle driver on a desperate interstate Deathtrip.Make it or break it,The Course was set,we were getting there in record time or we’d die tryin..the guideposts of remembered dreams focus...for a split second,then blur past and gone! the sign posts of realisation flash into view i’d fixate upon them trying to read their meaning,then relegated to the past,the roundabouts where i’d work an idea a few times then out the other side on again to the next.Why? , of course!,what if....,i could ,i couldn’t maybe , I was nearly positive so many times flashing between conclusions,if i at least make an attempt at control,there was everything to gain.I couldn’t see a down side.The carriage of my thoughts started to slow and i could take in my surroundings...”Excuse me...EXCUSE ME” ... the librarian was saying,”could you please move so i can attend to the lady behind you.”..I looked up and smiled not embarrassed in the slightest “I’m sorry” i said as sweetly as i could,turned,walked rapidly from the library,down the steps and ran home.The greek mythology tucked into my school bag.