Compositions for Zombie Dreams
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural
I have been composing in my dreams. My recent dreams have soundtracks. I wake up humming them sometimes. Even though it’s very random it sounds good in my head in my dreams. I haven’t tried to catch them yet so I’ve forgotten them all.
For a while, I was dreaming about zombies a lot. During one epic, all-night series of dreams I was constantly running from and flying away from zombies. And there was music playing as if my dreams had been scored. It was crazy. A driving bass line under dark, a half time drum beat, discordant harmonies as a friend and I ran, abandoning our car as we headed toward the hills trying to protect a little girl in a pink jacket, zombie infection spreading all around us as we jumped over the side of a bridge to wade across a river.
A friend and I decided that I should capture the songs when I wake up and make a recording called “Compositions for Zombie Dreams”.
Haven’t had any since, though. Zombie dreams, that is.
Last night, I don’t remember what the dream was about but it ended with me about to get in my car to look for a friend, I think, that had gone missing. And I saw something laying on the ground that, the more I looked at it, looked like a furry, trampled dream catcher. The music started and the lyrics were, “Drink the goat water. Drink the goat water.”
I don’t know that that means. Goat water. Goat water? Go toward her? Whatever the case, it was poignant and somber at the time. I just googled “goat water”:
Caribbean goat meat and vegetable stew: a lightly thickened stew made with goat meat and vegetables, often served at weddings and parties
I listened to Fiona Apple’s “Criminal” a zillion times today. That song is tight! Have you listened to the drums when they’re vamping at the end? Those hits. So lyrical. Man. Made me want to rush home and work on some tunes. But I had dinner with friends and am now thoroughly exhausted.
Mtn bike ride was grrreat. Well … after the first climb up to the Rockburn loop. That damn hill. It’s like straight up from the valley. You know how most mountains have trails that wind up the side. This trail is straight up the side, hook to the left and then up some more. My legs were burning like crazy for ten straight minutes and lungs felt raw and rough. I almost turned around to head back to the car. For some reason I went on and the rest of the ride was a little slow, but strong and true. Endurance. Stamina. It’s coming back.
The key? Longer, easy runs on the treadmill. No way around it. Gotta run.
Anyway, I classify this under music because I fell today. It was a clean fall. No worries. I mean, despite the fact that I was very dirty afterwards, “clean” in the sense that the bike didn’t try to bite into me with its sharp, toothy chain ring and I wasn’t thrown into any logs or rocks or trees. Had my iPod playing through a few big playlists. I was listening to Michelle Amador at the time or Karma (Featuring Michelle Amador). “Are We?”
Somehow you find me
Somehow remind me
Of someone some way
Of someone I deeply care for
Tell me (tell me)
Are we (tell me)
Are we meant to be
Oh s—. Friggin’ tree roots. Crash. Thud. Roll.
Strange thing is. I was out where few people venture. Few that I’ve seen. And wouldn’t you know there was a guy hiking there who saw it all. WTH. After he made sure I was okay he gave me a pat on the shoulder and said, “It’s pretty flat from here on.”
So I pick myself up. Dust myself off. And the voice of my friend. So beautiful. I glided on that over hill and dale.
Are we (tell me)
Are we meant to be
Oh man. Time is flying. Got to get ready for bed. After I satisfy a sudden, spontaneous urge to listen to The Fixx. Yes, I’ll bear one precious scar that only you will know.
|Currently reading :
Dearly Devoted Dexter
By Jeff Lindsay
Release date: By 19 September, 2006