SEQUENCE OF DREAMS (NIGHT two)

[2015-2017]

Night Two came from a long string of insomniac nights. At some point during those nights I decided to look at the junk in our families attic; one: because I was really hoping for a Ouija board and two: because I knew treasures were always found up there. During my scavenger hunt I came across some family VHS tapes that dated before my birth, during, and past. And then I sat and watched, every night, till I fell asleep. And my nights of insomnia were over. But my nights of dreaming weren't. Because my mind was filled with these VHS videos my dreams revolved around my life and my parents' life. Obscure but somehow very real. Which altered my memory of when I was younger and colored the idea I had of my parents before me. They seemed to have a past, they were lively, they had dreams. Not like the one's that I grew up with. I grew up with the 9-5 dream. Mortgage paid in full dream. Retiring. 

They had a dream we all wish for.

They, had love. 

Which to me is odd. I resent my mother. I always say if I weren't related to her, she wouldn't even be a blip on my radar. I never got to see my parents in love. I saw them in hate, and in spite. Seeing these videos though made me see her in a different light. These tapes were my rose colored glasses of her. I don't know what shifted between the tapes and now. My guess was that it was me. Being born was the date my parents drifted apart from each other, they built walls that turned into castles. There's a moat and crocodiles in it. And each day they battle and fire their cannons at each other's walls. And each night they rebuild their walls, higher and higher till at some point they won't be able to see anything else. And they will still fire upon each other because of habit not anything else. But my hope is that one day one of them accidentally drops down a drawbridge, and let's the other one in. And shows them their castle. The trinkets and books that they live with. And one will see that they are part of the treasured trinkets displayed proudly on a shelf. And love and kindness will grow once more.

But without the crocodiles, those fuckers scare me.


Daniel Mariotti