while I’m lacking photos

More dreams of my grandmother’s house, from last night.

My family was going to see my grandparents and aunts and uncles and somehow I ended up having a tiny bunny with me to take care of. It was no one’s, so now it had to be mine. (Just so you know, I’m allergic to everything and my family has never had any pets and I don’t even consider myself as an animal person. And my family is propably even less animal people.) I did my best to hide the bunny from my grandparents, and after it failed, from my other relatives. That too failed because the bunny kept running away whenever I took my eyes off him (I kind of thought of Peter Rabbit when I saw it, so I decided it was a he) and soon there were four bunnies instead of one (Peter had tripled not given birth) and it was dark and they were tiny and I was big. At some stage I fed the original bunny fruity muesli because I had no idea what bunnies eat and thought muesli must be the closest match in the house. There was also a fifth bunny that wasn’t a bunny but a cat with a sweater and I threw the cat out the door so it wouldn’t eat my bunnies.

I was cleaning up the tiny sandy beach next to the sauna so that they could sell the house. It was autumn and there were a lot yellow and brown leaves in the water and on the shore. The water was very clear but for some reason I think of it being brown anyway. Maybe it’s because of the leaves and wet sand. The shoreline was full of trash but what caught my eye was my old silver grey hair trimmer and its green-blue plastic parts (from the time I used to cut all of my hair off) in the lake, underwater, just a step from the shore. I put those in the plastic bag I had brought with me for the trash. Next I picked up some black cast iron pieces that looked like giant burnt matchsticks with those round curved heads. Where the water was knee-deep there were some large plastic toy dinosaurs stuck in the bottom. They were up on their feet, sunken but not heavy enough to not be moved by the waves. So there they were, the dinosaurs moving back and forth, underwater. They has lost their original coat of paint and only the colours of the plastic core remained. Each dinosaur was made of more than one colour of plastic; one was definitely red and blue, like it was made of some left over plastic, with the two colours poorly mixed together so that the end result wasn’t exactly marbled but something along those lines. When I reached out for the dinosaurs a large reddish-brown snake wrapped itself around my arm. I wasn’t really scared, I was more frustrated about having forgotten I ought to be wary of snakes. (Snakes are hardly a real threat there being only one poisonous species of snakes in Finland but I dream of snakes anyway.)

I feel like I should add that I don’t use stuff I shouldn’t use.

disturbed by light and lack thereof

I slept through the evening, on the living room floor, rehearsing my dissappearance from the reality, so when it was time to actually sleep, it was time for me to lie awake. Light seeped through the window blinds but in the backlight I could not see if V was awake or not, I could not make out what was between his temple and the tip of his nose, if the occasional glimmer was his eyelids parting or just the light sneaking its way to the corner of his eye. I guess you already know how this goes. Staring at things in the dark never ends well. V’s eyes began to leak darkness that spread all over his face and I had to turn away because it was scaring me a bit.

When I fell asleep my spool of gold thread fell into the snow. I find this deeply metaphorical. Of what, I don’t know.

A discussion between my mother and I, in a dream, in my grandmother’s house that was sold and demolished last summer.

K: It’s silly, really, to redo the wallpapers now that the house is no longer ours. (The rolls of wallpaper we had in our hands were ugly blue and in no way appropriate for the mid-century style of the house.)
M: Yes. The new resident will most likely have her own style and she’ll redecorate anyway.
K: I thought no one was going to move in here anymore.
M: True.
K: I don’t think I actually am here.
M: Yes.
K: Yes what? I think it’s impossible for this to happen, for this place to be.

It was the house of everything. I think I waited all my life to be old enough to see all the things it hid inside, to be grown up enough to play with even the fanciest of buttons, to put the National Geographics back on the shelf in whatever order I want.

Entering my nth year of depression. I got up too early. Woke up too early, but with enough morning light to see when V began to open his eyes, still desperately hanging on to the remains of his dreams. 

I won’t make resolutions. I just hope, a little, small things. Like to be well enough to make an advent calendar this year too. Maybe begin writing a journal again.

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