Saturday, July 18, 2009

I have these dreams at night sometime-- we own an Airstream trailer...
Not one of those big huge Airstream's---but rather the tiniest one called a Bambi. 16 feet long. Just a kitchen, a bathroom, a bed
and us. I dream about it. I did last night---for a little while anyway.

My REM dream state is filled with visions of little tiny, organized campsites, surrounded by trees, the dogs lie snoozing beside us... my wife and i sit in aluminium chairs under the bambi awning talking, laughing, smoking, reading, photographing, philosophizing.

I should not, by any stretch of the imagination be having these dreams. I should without difficulty shake off these dreams based on real life experience...We lived in our 30 foot motor home for 4 months during the last house was not easy to say the least. In fact we sold the motor home as soon as we moved due to this experience. Try showering for work in 1/2 of a phone booth, confront the cold winter, and be unable to stretch out in any direction for four months. It did kill the common human retirement dream of RV living. This winter living in the motor home taught us we did not want the RV full timers dream. I still have these little bambi airstream dreams, regardless of the motorhome experience and the process of having these dreams, both day and night and the way they stop is bothering me.

My dreams ignore the problems we had with daily life in the motor home....they whisper to me that, owning an Airstream Bambi would be for the simple fun of life when you have shucked off the boot of the man on your neck and retired--to enjoy and putz with.....
There are distinct advantages I muse in my dreams, I see them. This airstream is small enough to fit in the driveway. It can be pulled by a the smallest, most fuel efficient SUV/pickup that is currently manufactured much like a little Toyota Rav4. It's silver in the dreams, silver to match the bambi.

We can travel when we wish, in my dreams. New Mexico has most excellent parks, or go to visit my wife's friends and relatives. When at home the bambi is a driveway guest house....but...then something happens-------------the screaming voices---begin to appear.
"We'd have to purchase a vehicle along with the bambi", the internal voices start screaming at me----"what about cost"--- "you don't NEED this"....."what about spending money" .........what"you don't NEED this"............what about.........what about.....
....."you are stupid"....what about money..... The voices against rise in a high pitched death like squeal...and then the dream is gone--vanished and I am lost......the bambi and the campsite disappear---because of the voices....
and then the Architect takes over.............

Perhaps, it's really my Id, my subconscious---i actually prefer to think of that voice i hear as the character from the Matrix. The Architect.........
My Architect believes that his theory regarding my life is correct. It is based completely on logic, reasoning and examination of the path my life has taken. It is most certainly not based on hopes, wishes, dreams or rewards for effort or behavior.
My architect's theory is that after working, legally, non stop, full time, since the exact day I turned 12 years old---my program is to---- work and die.
My architect believes that a lifetime of endless work is my program. Examining the data, the evidence the Architect always, always comes to the same conclusion---time and time and time again.
My architect points out that all external evidence from my past and present supports his conclusion. I have never not worked----I have never had more than 14 days without working.... I try to fight against the logic of this...I desperately do not accept this program as my outcome... work and die? It has been an impossibility to offer my architect a contradictory theory that has any real, hard evidence behind it. I have been unable to offer my architect a scenario with any real evidence that states, NO, this is what will occur, this is my program. This is what will happen...... I can provide nothing...I have done nothing but work, my entire life. I cannot remember being free it was taken away so long ago. I have no alternative program, no previous facts. I never quit work to find myself, to paint for a year, or just because i wanted to quit............I have zero evidence that work and die is not my program----I have nothing but fleeting REM dreams, and daydreams of what i might do.... that are becoming harder and harder to produce or sustain. How do i fight his program, only with daydreams that exist for brief moments before the logic/stupid/money voices destroy the little world i try to create in my head. How can might be, can be, could happen, stand against the Architect's army of was what is known, what has always been, and what is occurring now?
I am so tired of dreams that don't last. They are becoming harder to create and hold even for a brief moment night or day...maybe that's what my Architect is telling me---I know I am being told something in the dreams that still cling to life and the process of their destruction------maybe my dreams have lost. Maybe I have lost.

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