unloading my nightmare

M: “It’s like you live in a different country.”

JNET: “California folks listen to the fear news. A has offered to come pack up my pianos and stuff and move me anywhere.”

M: “Come to Florida then.”

JNET: “Nah. There’s folks fighting here and I’ve got front seats.”

Social public shaming, mask mandates patrolling, and proud paper holders are a thing over here in lalaland. I know of kids whose parents celebrate their 12th birthday by starting with a covid jab before pizza and a play date.

For two hours a week, I “risk” my life teaching in-person lessons. I was given a grave look when someone realized that all FOUR of my in-person students were too young to get vaccinated.

S: “Those children can still carry the virus and transfer it. They can still kill somebody’s grandparents.”

Fortunately, their wheels of fear got interrupted and I had to go home. We are in a sad state if adults are looking at children as threats to society; plague carriers akin to fleas on rats. The Governor of California lowered the age of mandates celebrating the recall failure and a new program bringing jabs door to door, Vax Up LA has begun. Yes, people are knocking on doors with water coolers full of vials to bring the medicine home. To some Californians, we are fighting a dangerous epidemic. To others, a huge invasion of privacy has begun. The powers that be are making a list.

If there are no grown ups holding the line, Newsom may start his own child catcher program to bump up the free Krispy Kreme and burgers program. It was easy to convince adults with free stuff.

I know people that want stricter lockdowns for California. They thought China did it right by bolting down doors to buildings to keep occupants in place.

I’ve been quiet as I process this life and the things people say to me. They give me plenty of fodder for nightmares.

California Dreamin’… Here’s two that’s made a dent into my psyche.

Dream ONE - Gulag in LalaLand

Music drew me toward the courtyard. I was in the neighborhood, looking into an address where I was assigned to live and came upon a crowd hanging out. They dressed similarly and reminded me of characters coded into a video game. They were of one mind and uniform disposition. No one stood out to be a leader. They were a choir without a conductor. Having entered the space, the game had begun. Cheerfully, they invited me to join them.

The gathering moved indoors at exactly the address I was looking for. Here, I was expected to move in and they wondered what was keeping me from transitioning into their community. They had relinquished their former lives and felt free from worry. They no longer had the burden of bills and debt. The building was owned by the corporation/government and their basic needs were met. Having given up their possessions, their lives felt light. Their collective enthusiasm was odd.

I didn’t tell them that I was living alone and enjoying the luxury of solitude. Most everyone lived the communal life of shared space. There was a huge room where everyone slept. The prime sleeping areas were for those who scored the small closet. But the closet doors were taken down because getting private space was not allowed. I was reminded of a commercial I saw last year.

Dream TWO - My Rebellion at ReEducation Camp

The menacing Commander for Compliance for this dream was my former dance director. She was a formidable woman who outside of my dream (in real life) made people cry and was scary. She created great shows though. I saved my tears for the drive home. I never let her to see me cry.

Seeing her in my nightmare made me extra rebellious. She was not there to inspect my stage makeup, costume, or make sure my hair was in a perfect bun to match the dancers. I was called in her office for processing and when she saw me walk through the door, her eyes rolled. Her comfortable position of keeping her facility of submissive subjects was about to get challenging.

I left her office and immediately caught sight of a friend. It ended with me being happy to find friends and causing a dance uprising.

These dreams stayed with me since last winter and in draft mode. Even in my dreams, I hold my stance. I let the zombies be and make sure they can’t smell me or I find a fun way to rebel. But real life has been a little messy.

After 10 months of solitude, visiting family in San Diego was not as restorative as I hoped. I was an unknown possibility of contagion and things got more contentious when I wouldn’t go volunteer at a vaccination site so I can get first dibs on the newly released vaccines. It didn’t feel like an “opportunity” to me and the holiday joy was dampened by the covid doom updates now partnered with suicide links and de-stressing apps to check out.

Now I have family thinking I’m suicidal because I’m passing on the vax.

I returned to Los Angeles briefly before packing my bags and buying a one way ticket to Florida. I needed somewhere fun and freedom loving. My cousin had been asking me to visit for a year. I thought I’d spend my birthday there and then they asked that I stay for July 4th and then for this event and that birthday. Four months passed before I realized I missed home and my things; my piano and apartment. I’ve been back for a while now and I haven’t had a single nightmare since. I learned a lot. I will write of my Florida adventure in my next posts. These nightmares had been sitting in draft mode for months.

In the end, I learned that even in my dreams, I will never comply.

It feels good to write again.

JNET