Lately I’ve been having these strange dreams. I dream with dead birds. Vividly colorful dead birds that lie stiff on the ground, on the table or in closets. What surrounds them moves, ebbs, but they remain still. Most of the time I hold back my breath because I am expecting the punch line to come, the drum stick to strike and the bird spring to life and fly for its treat. Except this is not the circus.
Two things creep me out about this. First, that I sense them watching me. You know, that feeling when you know that it is happening and then when you look – and even if you are as quick as lightning – the eyes are not focused on you anymore? And the second thing, that these dreams seem to be continuing. Much like the video you pause and then restart after you got your popcorn, I seem to be falling back into the same story right were I leave off. So no comfort of waking up, cuddling up to Mr.AP and waiting a couple of minutes. As soon as I fall asleep, there they lie again.
So I thought I’d try and jinx it: draw them down. Maybe if I get them on paper, if I focus on what I have seen then they’ll stay on the paper and not bother me anymore. I mean, I never tried anything like this, but maybe it will work. If not, then the next best thing would be to see Hitchcock’s The Birds. Although I hope it doesn’t come to that because it just freaks me out thinking about it.
I’ll let you know how it goes.