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Unfortunate Priorities
Oct. 16th, 2010 07:06 pmAndres's dad had been in Perú for a couple of weeks on a work-related trip, and he flew back into Tuscon today. His mom came from the town they live in last night and spent the night here, so there was a lot of Spanish floating around. I didn't really get much sleep, because at 7.30 it was time to get up again--we went out to breakfast with his mom at IHOP before she had to run down to the airport. It was really nice to have breakfast-while-half-asleep-trying-to-speak-Spanish again. I was reminded of the countless groggy mornings sitting at Doña Victoria's breakfast table at 7AM.
After breakfast, Andres and I came back to the apartment and I had the vague goal of starting some homework (I have so much omg), but instead I completely passed out. And I had a dream *in Spanish*--the second one that I've ever had in my entire life. The first one I had in Guatemala, so it was fairly exciting to have one here. Probably inspired by the utter exhaustion plus Spanish floating around my head from the previous 12 hours.
The dream, unfortunately, was fucking horrifying. It was a dream within a dream. The first dream ended in my asphyxiation, as I fell victim to some toxic sediment that was gushing from a bathroom sink. The second dream ended with my being gang-raped by a bunch of Brazilian gangsters, who for some reason had taken up residence in my boyfriend's aunt's house. I guess I didn't actually dream the rape part, I woke up as they were pinning me down, but still.
I have been having some fairly horrible/troubling dreams recently. It feels like almost every dream that I remember upon waking involves my death or the death or someone I care about, or something unspeakable happening to me or to someone I care about. Or both. I've also had some dreams where I end up killing myself. Last night's dream(s) were some of the worst, though, but for some reason, the fact that they were in Spanish made them not as bad.
Is that fucked up? It makes me feel a little fucked up, to be honest.
After breakfast, Andres and I came back to the apartment and I had the vague goal of starting some homework (I have so much omg), but instead I completely passed out. And I had a dream *in Spanish*--the second one that I've ever had in my entire life. The first one I had in Guatemala, so it was fairly exciting to have one here. Probably inspired by the utter exhaustion plus Spanish floating around my head from the previous 12 hours.
The dream, unfortunately, was fucking horrifying. It was a dream within a dream. The first dream ended in my asphyxiation, as I fell victim to some toxic sediment that was gushing from a bathroom sink. The second dream ended with my being gang-raped by a bunch of Brazilian gangsters, who for some reason had taken up residence in my boyfriend's aunt's house. I guess I didn't actually dream the rape part, I woke up as they were pinning me down, but still.
I have been having some fairly horrible/troubling dreams recently. It feels like almost every dream that I remember upon waking involves my death or the death or someone I care about, or something unspeakable happening to me or to someone I care about. Or both. I've also had some dreams where I end up killing myself. Last night's dream(s) were some of the worst, though, but for some reason, the fact that they were in Spanish made them not as bad.
Is that fucked up? It makes me feel a little fucked up, to be honest.
