dreams: October 18, 1999
I'm at S.S.'s house. He lives with his family. We're in the kitchen. We hug. There's lots of sexual vibes. We're cheek to cheek; I can feel his breath on my neck. We nibble each other, lips to neck, ear, chin. It feels gentle and soft. We kiss. We drop down to the floor, wrapped in a big blanket. His shirt comes off, and then his pants. Mine too. He's still wearing his underwear; I can feel the white elastic band with my hands. I leave my underwear on too. We are lying down on the floor. It suddenly feels like the momentum is now going too fast, even though we're just in the initial stages (only touching and mainly concentrating on the neck up).
dealing with insecurities as I look at myself from the outside-inWe hear someone coming in the front door (the kitchen is open to the rest of the house, without walls). We duck under the covers; we know that they'll see us no matter what though, since we're in the middle of the floor. S. has a good relationship with his family. I poke my head out of the blanket and see his older sister: a beautiful young woman in a short skirt. She smiles at us.
We sit up. His body almost looks like a young boy's, with a slim torso and skinny arms. His skin is smooth and radiant. I'm very attracted to him. I tell him I had feelings for him when he was in my room the first time we really talked. We felt the vibes when we hugged goodbye standing in my doorway. "Yeah, I don't know how I could've passed up that opportunity," he says.
I now feel like this exchange is imbalanced because I like him more than he likes me. I feel insecure, like I'm not worthy. I find myself viewing myself from the outside-in instead of the inside-out; I don't feel attractive to him, though he is gentle and sweet to me. I tussle his hair with my hands. It's short, dark and thick. His face is absolutely beautiful, and I'm in awe. He has dark eyebrows and striking eyes. A distinct area around his right eye is fuzzy and dark -- a birthmark or a patch of hair -- like a wolf. I touch it with my fingers, thankful in the moment to be with him. Yet I also feel scared that I'm just a sexual experience for him and not much more, as if nothing sets me apart from the other women he's been with.
Others arrive. We're now socializing with them. It's nighttime, and the room is rather dark, except for candlelight. There are many young women here. There are also lots of quartz crystals around. I lie down to do a meditation and announce that I'm going to sustain (praise? worship? connect with? develop? fulfill?) the "matriarchy." A young woman is sitting across the room with a group of others, and she says something about how she's tired of hearing that kind of stuff. I realize she's challenging the distinction I made between the genders in general, since the term "matriarchy" insinuates power of the female, thus drawing a separation between "women" and "men." So she was protesting the fact that I'm affirming the already-existing social construct of the sexes. I have a flicker of acknowledgment that her complaint has some validity, but then I remember that I know what I'm talking about: there really is a matriarchy (an Astral female force?). "Don't give me that plastic Swarthmore crap," I tell her.
People are breaking up and leaving now. A striking woman is walking out with a friend; she has a strong personality and is older than me (late 20s). I find myself feeling slightly intimidated by her, bringing out some of my defensiveness. We have a slighty undercurrent of fierce energy between us. I overhear her say she wants a new crystal. She holds up a crystal with a red jewel set in the top, all on a silver chain. (Exactly like the crystal I got in Mapia.) I wonder for a moment if she stole it from the house. I ask if I can feel it to read its energy. She hands it to me. It's now big and thick. The vibration is very strong in my hands; it has a high energy, which I tell her. I tell her it's worth keeping. I look closely and see that it actually looks like amber, since the color is golden and the shape is smooth and round. There is a mosquito stuck in the center in perfect form.
- FIN -
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