Tell me what you know about dreaming? You don't really know nothing. Tell me what you know about night terrors every night. 5 am throwing sweats, waking up to the sky -Kid Cudi, Pursuit of Happiness
That poem is a mostly true account involving our previous cat, Mimi, who passed away about 15 years ago. [I say 'mostly true', because I obviously cannot read the feline's thoughts.] She liked to play with my feet as I slept.
This was raw and honest. I see so much of my own youth here, different experiences but the same vibe, same place. Biking and drinking in the woods. Swallowed by corn fields and old sheds. Roads going nowhere, lives going nowhere. My way out was the Navy. For others, it was Army, Marines. A lot of folks stayed. Some just… faded away. Wow, memories. Thank you for sharing your truth.
It is wild how so many small towns are similar in that regard. It seems either you have family that owns something, you move along, or you fall apart. Almost everyone is a heavy drinker and for how small the area is it causes a lot of chaos. I almost didn't get out myself. I'm technically in the same area just with a better job and better morals and sober.. It took having seizures and being kicked in the ass by life over and over again to get my stuff together.
Thank you for sitting with it and understanding it from the same level as I do. From experience..
People with an autism spectrum disorder have bad dreams considerably more often than the neurotypical population. Since humans tend to dream largely based on our daily social experiences, ASD people naturally have dreams that reflect their own frequent-enough tumultuous social experiences.
Most of my social experiences, however relatively insignificant, consist(ed) of me trying to behave according to the ‘norms’. I would/will act according to how I’ve perceived over time I’m supposed to act. And I emphasize the word ‘act’. It’s like I’m following an uncomfortably unnatural script, which quite frankly leaves me feeling fake.
This effect is exacerbated when it involves others with whom I’m unfamiliar or minimally familiar. It’s strange and makes me feel phony, yet I even sometimes behave this way in dreams.
This hit me in that quiet, nostalgic way that isn’t just “I miss it,” but “I understand why it had to end.” It feels like sitting on a tailgate at 2 a.m., half smiling, half heavy, knowing those days mattered even if they weren’t healthy. I really felt the love threaded through the chaos, especially with your cousin and your buddy’s mom. That kind of care doesn’t disappear just because life changes. The ending feels honest, not bitter. Letting go because you’ve grown, not because you’re ashamed of who you were. Thanks for sharing this.
I appreciate the honesty of this. You don’t jazz it up but there is still a lot of feeling behind it. It feels genuine. Almost like a journal entry.
Growing & changing is uncomfortable and you don’t side step this.
Thank you. I tend to write somewhere in the space between journal entries and poetry..
It very much is. But staying stuck is also painful, so you gotta pick your battles..
Appreciate you taking the time to read it
A nostalgic memory 🫶
Absolutely
She laid by his bared feet
at the foot of his bed
though in his dream they’d meet
which they did in his head.
.
For this sleek black feline
she’d been in there before
such she’d never decline
as that cat he’d adore.
A myth it couldn’t be
that her claws touched his toes
as the dreaming did he
was about that she knows.
.
The dream she boldly caught
that night she did invade
was the dream she had sought
the dream she’d long delayed.
Within she placed her claws
upon his sleep-bound feet
all performed with no flaws
then and there they did meet.
.
Though not feeling abused
by prickling on his toes
he still looked down confused
at each of five toes, two rows.
.
Naught of her did he find
in his dream created
though back to wakened mind
he saw her and stated
‘Mimi, it’s you — you rascal!’
yet he still adored her
while finding special
her response, a smooth ‘mrrrrr’.
.
From the thick mattress down
she landed easy goes
as he said, ‘You little clown —
you leave alone my toes.’
Thought she: ‘Again we’ll meet
as you dream fast asleep
when the toes on your feet
from my paws you cannot keep.’
_____
That poem is a mostly true account involving our previous cat, Mimi, who passed away about 15 years ago. [I say 'mostly true', because I obviously cannot read the feline's thoughts.] She liked to play with my feet as I slept.
This was raw and honest. I see so much of my own youth here, different experiences but the same vibe, same place. Biking and drinking in the woods. Swallowed by corn fields and old sheds. Roads going nowhere, lives going nowhere. My way out was the Navy. For others, it was Army, Marines. A lot of folks stayed. Some just… faded away. Wow, memories. Thank you for sharing your truth.
It is wild how so many small towns are similar in that regard. It seems either you have family that owns something, you move along, or you fall apart. Almost everyone is a heavy drinker and for how small the area is it causes a lot of chaos. I almost didn't get out myself. I'm technically in the same area just with a better job and better morals and sober.. It took having seizures and being kicked in the ass by life over and over again to get my stuff together.
Thank you for sitting with it and understanding it from the same level as I do. From experience..
This makes me look back in time.
People with an autism spectrum disorder have bad dreams considerably more often than the neurotypical population. Since humans tend to dream largely based on our daily social experiences, ASD people naturally have dreams that reflect their own frequent-enough tumultuous social experiences.
Most of my social experiences, however relatively insignificant, consist(ed) of me trying to behave according to the ‘norms’. I would/will act according to how I’ve perceived over time I’m supposed to act. And I emphasize the word ‘act’. It’s like I’m following an uncomfortably unnatural script, which quite frankly leaves me feeling fake.
This effect is exacerbated when it involves others with whom I’m unfamiliar or minimally familiar. It’s strange and makes me feel phony, yet I even sometimes behave this way in dreams.
I'm glad you're out of it.
I do fully get missing it though.
Same here. If I kept down that same path I would probably have ended in jail, with severe health problems or seriously hurt.
The craziness never amped down it only got worse as time progressed
Absolutely lovely work
Thank you 🙂
Let it go .. This isn't just sentence... It's the life's reality... So amazingly written🩵🩵
Thank you. Letting go is definitely one of the hardest things to do but sometimes it is all you can do
Agree 💛💛
Wonderful work. Felt the pain, almost carried the tension of the casket.
Aw thank you, you are so sweet..
This hit me in that quiet, nostalgic way that isn’t just “I miss it,” but “I understand why it had to end.” It feels like sitting on a tailgate at 2 a.m., half smiling, half heavy, knowing those days mattered even if they weren’t healthy. I really felt the love threaded through the chaos, especially with your cousin and your buddy’s mom. That kind of care doesn’t disappear just because life changes. The ending feels honest, not bitter. Letting go because you’ve grown, not because you’re ashamed of who you were. Thanks for sharing this.