In reflection, I understand the words of the man in my dream. “… and they found blood everywhere… but they never found them!”

I believe he was referring to a dream I had while pregnant with Krislynn. A dream that left me equally terrified and awe-inspired by my potential.

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Finding myself in a room, aligned West to East. One Window facing South. An entrance from the West. It was a darkly decorated room, with wood paneling on the walls.

Many people were present. Some I knew, and others I did not. Nobody in which I can currently name. Though, I was an unseen observer.

As quickly as I came, so too did a male-force. No face could I put to him. He swept through the room in a vicious frenzy, a massacre had commenced. Then he was gone, and I was left untouched. Standing within a bloodstained room, dismembered bodies and all.

…Then, my mind morphed me to a peaceful place. A beautiful outside terrace. Large tiles, and curvaceous white pillars lining the balcony. Stairs leading down into a garden.

Here my presence was acknowledged, and I felt to be at my fullest potential. Certain family members present, including Christopher, his Mother-Mary, and sisters Becca, Ashley and Colissa. There were unidentifiable faces as well.

Here, I levitated laying down. Between my mid-wife, Lisa, and another unknown female. Thereafter, I sang in harmony with Mother-Mary and sisters. Letting my throat loose, hitting the highest of notes without hesitancy. A talent I’ve yet to let myself own, especially in anothers’ presence.

…Still, I landed back in the room of murder. Still feeling the furious male presence. Panicked, but not lacking sense, I was able to jump out of the window… Stories down. At which point I awoke.

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My life has been an ascent. No matter how far forward I climb; stumble and fall I do. For in adolescence, I damned myself if I were to become arrogant. So much that I never allowed a sense of confidence in myself to develop. In recent years, within myself I did not even confide.

Much I’ve experienced. I have always been the one to throw the rock beneath my feet; stumble and fall at my own will. Force does not flow.

Standing within a glass house. I have broken away my walls to bear purity in life. Positivity is what I sought, despite my desirable doom. Here and now, no more can I throw rocks. For in this action, I will disarm the gentile grounds in which I’ve grown in grace. My roots will only bear strength in harboring harmony; to hell with the rest.

The mind is a strange place to travel. The psychological world has always intrigued me in all its insanity and its wonder.

On this morning, I’ve awoken from a dream not so pleasant. Just four hours sleep, and a mind jolt. Most of the time, I let my subconscious remain in control, and sleep-on. Today I kicked my own butt, and made sure to break through to the conscious realm in full.

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From when I can remember…

Starting off at our local corner store, speaking to Christina (a charismatic woman who works there). She took my order for some food, which she would bring me after getting off from work and spend some time with us.

…I was then somehow at La Madera Park. Walking through, and to the West side on the road. A place I almost never walk. Then getting into a SUV, of my own futuristic creation. Apparently it was a friends, at least in my dreams-conscious thought process.

Driving along now, I have continual problems in operating the vehicle. It seems to sputter at speed. The thought crosses my mind, as to whether it may be a manual. Still, I drive, only nearing the end of my automotive travel do I decide to switch into 2nd gear. (Didn’t seem to do much good.)

Now walking up a large hill. It’s dark-night this whole time through. I pass two food transport trucks. Coming to the second, there were two men outside suspiciously talking amongst themselves. I throw myself into saying “hi!”; making eye-contact. This puts my unease slightly at rest.

…Somehow reaching my destination. Ryan and Colissa’s supposed apartment. I felt them together, but didn’t encounter Colissa to my recollection. Christopher and Ryan were upstairs when I arrived.

Then I came across an old friend from high school. Saskia Bailey. We talked, and I remember being in my head with her presence. She confronted me on this. Though, I cannot remember exactly what my explanation was, I do recall a heart-felt conversation. Telling her to not take it personally, and the reasons why I’d ever ended up that way. She was there, and gone…

… In the apartment, there was a large living area downstairs. The stairs themselves were spiraling, with a pole shooting down the middle. There were at least three rooms upstairs. From East to West. Ryan and Colissa’s room. The bathroom. A fully decorated child’s room… The strangest of them all. A possible fourth room, but spacial dimensions are always so transparent in my dreams.

I went upstairs to go to the restroom. It was as large as a public restroom, with one toilet and no stalls. It was like a public restroom that’d never been cleaned, to boot. That was an awkward in-dream bathroom experience.

As I’m finishing up Christopher appears, in his playful state. Chasing me around to tickle me, I finally swing myself over the stairs, and slide down the pole.

…At this point, my recollection morphs into our entering the second bedroom. The child’s room. I never recall seeing Krislynn, so much as feeling her presence. Christopher and I merely look throughout the room, at one point stating, “This could be Krislynn’s room”. I remember thinking their apartment was a parallel floor plan to ours, though this is realistically untrue.

…Then it seems we end up in the possible third bedroom. With a twin size bed, that didn’t fit a rather long frame. My dog Shadow lie asleep. I question how he got up there, considering he no longer jumps at his old age. Christopher and I ended up concluding we were to put Krislynn down for a nap in this room. We figured it’d be wisest to move in a more fitting mattress, from the “child’s” room.

Whether we ever did or did not, doesn’t much matter. My mind jumps to the intensity…

We sit in the “child’s” room, simply having some down-time before we lay Krislynn to rest. Then I notice this oddly dark corner, folding over the wall of the room. Sounds of clocks and static, your typical spooky sounds, begin to play out. A man’s voice begins to tell a tale of a haunting. All I woke up with was, “… and they found blood everywhere… but they never found them!” In that moment, I was so intensely staring at Christopher with fright. My conscious mind, within my dream, was holding strength in telling me to not listen… There’s nothing to be scared of.

At this point, it took everything within my mental-self to regain consciousness. I awoke to tell Christopher, and I do not feel compelled to fall back asleep.

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Overall, the feelings which emanated in this dream disturbed me. This was certainly not the most horrific dream of my mind, however. Oh, there’s been far worse…

I am thankful to have had the self-discipline to wake myself up. A dream such as this only leads me in loops subconsciously, and stains my mind for days to come.

More often now, I find myself less compelled to sleep. For reasons such as this, and the mere fact that I simply have too much to accomplish in this life to sleep.

12.07.2008 - Pillow of Love

Originally uploaded by PoeticallyPoised

This has been my most intricate crochet project yet. Lots of lessons learned in the craft from this project. Especially with my perfectionist state of mind.

More to come surely!

I originally was taught crochet when I was 11, by my Aunt Maria. Doilies weren’t my passion, though. It was as if I was chasing my tail… Mindless circles to just decorate a table space.

Once I became pregnant with Krislynn, I was motivated out of necessity to crochet. Booties and hats started me off. Christopher’s Mother Mary is a crafty lady, so I had that inspirational image as well.

After these initial trials, my mind opened up to the possibilities. The toys and accessories I can make that aren’t available. My creativity can craft a world anew.

At last it’s coming, more and more steadily. Getting quicker and more logical in my mind… instead of “tear it up and give it up” perfectionist-Jackie.

Glad I am, for this accomplishment. It was a bit rough, and I surely felt like throwing in the hook. My patience has outweighed these notions, gotten me through, and it’s a lasting impression.

I see my progress in infinite ways.