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Ghosts Push Toward the Suicide Door

Dreamed 1997/8/7 by Chris Wayan

Ghost with arms out and huge staring eyes. A Photoshop negative of a crayon drawing.


For a couple of months now I've been sleeping in a temporary room in an apartment complex, up in the right back corner. Some parts of the building near me are officially sealed off, though--rotten wood that might collapse in a quake. I even have doubts about my own bedroom; though it's sound, the sealed unstable parts are near.

I've slipped in and explored the forbidden zone. Much of it is one big open space, rather eerie, with two doors to the outside. One I dare not cross to, but I know what's behind it: a safe stair I've climbed up to peer in from that perspective. Big braces on that side; even so, patches nearby are roped off. Between the two doors, the floor is visibly rotten, uncrossable.

The space feels creepy: I sense ghosts. They probably died walking through the other door: it opens on a sheer drop, a hundred yards down. Are they all suicides haunting their death jump, or were some spooks here first, luring people to step out the deadly door? Either way, the spirits remember the deaths vividly, and the sense of them permeates the condemned room; a steady mood-current pushes toward the suicide door.

When I first moved in, it was horrible, I had to be on guard against the suicidal urge all the time. It seems much weaker now, though it's still a relief to go outside. I AM a shaman; am I gradually clearing the curse, by staying here and resisting it? Or am I just habituating to intolerable conditions again? I have a history of that... No one should have to live in a room that's riskier than being living out on the street!

Why am I settling for this? Maybe I just love a mystery. But this one's so draining! I want a happier one to chew on. Tired of these suicidal ghosts.

And I get this faint sense from them that maybe, just maybe, they're getting equally tired of me. Of the whole horrible game.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

So. Do our old traumas get as bored with us as we do with them? My dream thinks so.

Lately, I've been sabotaging myself socially. The dream suggests old traumas are doing it... but why am I just living in them, enduring this? Either face them till they resolve, or leave! Because they're as bored by this old pain as I am.



LISTS AND LINKS: dream houses - dream beings - ghosts - death - weird urges - suicide - healing from abuse - inheritances - the trauma of uncle Hugh - habit - procrastination and initiative

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