i am remembering my dreams again

in no particular order, but over the last several nights:

dream 1 (2 nights ago): i am walking down a bike path in northgate, midday and overcast. i know it is northgate, though i have never been on such a trail in reality. i am checking my phone and going through a pedestrian underpass. i suddenly realize i should be paying more attention to my surroundings. i look up and see a wild-eyed man stumbling out of the woods towards me. he is wearing a white-and-red patterned shirt much like the motherfucker who attacked me in july. i look at him, startled, and walk faster. there is about a 5' cement wall that i must surmount to get to street level- to 'safety' and i climb it clumsily. he is moving slowly, then starts to dart as i get all the way up. it is one of those horrible dreams where my moves are ineffectual and gelatinous. my legs are still hanging over the edge. he reaches out to grab them. i wake myself up by kicking violently and thrashing into a seated position at the head of my bed.
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i have been having nightmares about that night. this would be the third in two weeks. shouldn't this reaction have happened two months ago? i was applauding my stoicness and resilience, but apparently i was completely delusional.
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dream 2 (3 nights ago): i am with someone very familiar in a high-ceilinged room in an old building- something like a gymnasium. my mother is wearing no underpants and climbing on the windowsills. she is laughing. "i've always wanted to do this!" she exclaims, oblivious to my horror.
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dream 3 (3 or 4 nights ago): it is not quite dawn and in the dream, for reasons forgotten, i have been up all night. i am standing on the corner of pike & boren and b is lifting me up by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder. i am laughing and begging him to stop- the same sort of frantic hilarity that happens when you're being tickled. he finds it hilarious that i am so helpless. i am flattered by his attention but honestly concerned that he's going to let me hang there until i pass out. i sense palpable venom in his merriment.
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when i got home last night i didn't want to sleep in my bed. i needed a change of scenery. so i froze my ass off on my sofa, under the open window, waking up to sunlight slanting against the wall. i was momentarily befuddled- that eerie "where the fuck am i?" sensation- and when i realized it was my own space, revisited, i felt very relieved and giddy.
i love the security of my own world. i keep the walls of my enclave too fortified, perhaps, but every time i weaken them i tend to get jarringly fucked with.
to wit: d was a fucking asshole last week. i haven't talked to him since friday. i am disgusted with myself because, as always, i 'deserve' it; i trust people to be pleasant and kind and communicative and respectful- and people, at least the people i tend to associate with, aren't. but i am much more disgusted with him. i want to wash my mouth and brain out with bleach. i wonder what it is about me that renders my social options so minimal- why must i be privy to a relentless parade of mindfuckers? am i, myself, a mindfucker, attracting like? how much of this is (repetetively) bad luck and how much do i attract by mere virtue of my personality?
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yeah, and didn't i voice these concerns to s back in, what, april? what did she say: "be careful." she said it with "i will be diplomatic because you will do whatever the fuck you want, but for god's sake, don't be nearly as stupid as you're prone to be" in her voice, which i pretended not to notice at the time. her wiseness annoys me. i envy her ability to not take shit from people. me: i let people do pretty much anything and am meekly flattered by the attention. how fucked up is that? am i damaged, for fuck's sake, and completely oblivious to it except when the same ugly patterns emerge?
damage implies weakness. i hate weakness.
let's change the subject!
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i take the massage boards tomorrow at noon-thirty. i did well on the online practice exam, apart from several airy-fairy chinese medicine questions i was utterly clueless to. we never learned the joys of YANG in school. i test at noon and i get a new tat at 5pm. i have two weeks to heal. and it will be nice to feel a needle in my skin again.
there is a bespectacled boy reading a paperback under the windows. i looked up, caught his eye, smiled toothlessly, and returned to typing. i've stated this before, objectively, dispassionately, but: i suspect this is my problem.
second east coast swing class tonight, on an 85 degree day in a 90 degree room... my back was damp when my partners touched me. it's fucking FUN. i love feeling like i've been let in on a secret... people have done these steps for years, and now i can too! my skin still tastes salty.
and this afternoon i hung out with two people i went to elementary school with, neither of whom i'd seen in 20 years. the wonders of facebook! we recognized each other immediately. i felt weirdly tall. she lives in seattle, he's visiting from anchorage. it was incredibly cool to relate to people on that level... how weird and precocious we all were. names i hadn't heard in decades were bandied around. our mutual acquaintances are now doctors, lawyers, professors. "i'm in massage school!" i said feebly. they were actually really enthusiastic about that. i gave them my new business cards. they both promised to tell their friends.
it was a really fucking cool afternoon, actually. it's amazing how much one can remember without realizing it. i tapped into memories today that i never knew i created in the first place.
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the past proves you're alive.