Dreams about my old house (on separate occasions)

A freewrite

One

The house looked like this in my dream, except that it was located in a dense neighborhood, where you could see into people's houses from one's window. My family was moving back in, but while they were transporting things, I had to stay and wait in the house by myself. The house had no doors or windows and plants were growing into the house. It was a little scary, so I called my friend Tom to come stay with me while my family was away. Tim and Liz were my neighbors -they called me from their window- and they told me I could stay with them until my family got back, and that they had eggplants growing (the thing about this detail is that Tim said that they had "qiezi", which is what "eggplant" is in Chinese) and that I could eat with them.

Two

I came back home for vacation. I remember the people next door -when I was growing up- had a nice, big yard. In my dream, the people next door had a huge swimming pool in their backyard. Instead of twins (who were my neighbors in real life), they were some kind of Western European expats. There were several kids, and they all had blonde hair. I later discovered that my mom had become some kind of animal enthusiast while I explored my house -the house was huge and castle like for some reason. She had an indoor pool dedicated to aquaculture. Our yard was a complete opposite of the house next door with their clean pool and well manicured grass- it was an "organized jungle" with distinct areas for plants and garden sculptures. There were exotic big birds in the yard, and even monkeys. I remember finding some kind of animal -I think it was a dog- that was hidden in plain view, like it was camouflaged in the foliage, because my mom wanted to hide it. I kept thinking how surprised I was that my mom changed her opinion in regard to animals (she never really liked keeping them). The next door neighbors came over and we all explored the house together. My room was in the basement (which we didn't have).

Three

There were kids with me (maybe around 9, 10 years old) in the house. Our family had moved out of the house, but for some reason I came back with these kids. I think we were going somewhere. Or meeting someone. Being back at the house happened by chance, and I was excited to tell the kids about it. I told them about all the secret rooms in the house, which weren't really secret, like the 1/2 bathroom downstairs that we never used (in real life, we never used the downstairs bathroom, I don't know why). The pantry (which we never had), was blocked by a desk of some sort. I needed to move it so we could get to the food inside. I remember opening it and seeing a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

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Why have I been having all these dreams about this house? This house was always special to me because its the one place where my family lived in the longest. My brother and I filmed many home movies here, unfortunately only one -Faces of Frances- survived. I am convinced it is haunted (a story for another time). It makes me sad to see it in this state.

The Loft

When my brother moved away from Seattle, he was unwilling to let go of his catch of an apartment. Like a prized heirloom, he wanted to keep the place in the family. Luckily for him I needed a place to stay once I got back from China. After graduating from the UW dorms and a brief stint in First Hill where I lived in fear that I would be abducted by the homeless people living in the camps by the freeway every night, my brother's apartment was the Renter's version of the American Dream. The apartment was two story one bedroom loft with huge windows facing 15th Avenue on Capitol Hill. The neighborhood was super hip and comfortable. Aside from that, I won't get into details and specifications of the apartment and neighborhood because it will just emphasize how much I didn't deserve living in that apartment. Also, I do not want to instill feelings of resentment and bitterness towards me.

Because of the way the apartment was laid out, I couldn't really have any roommates, or I could except that I would have no privacy. I opted for privacy. A lot has been said about a person being by themselves, and so of course hilarity ensues. I stopped working because I started taking 18 credits a quarter, which meant I spent more time at home. I confined myself to my bedroom upstairs, except for the occasional back to back Seinfeld and Frasier from 10-12pm. I bought plants (for decorative purposes, not to improve the air quality) and knick knacks, in attempt to "tie the place together" and less like it was put together with clipart*.

I soon filled the place up with stupid shit like candle holders in the shape of a chicken, oil lamps, wooden fruit, excessively large glass vases and ceramic owls and fish plates. Say what you want but I didn't purchase them with the intention that they were ironically hip. Then, through a combination of reintegrating back to Seattle life and the depression that follows and the fact that I can be a little weird sometimes, I started to develop some OCD like behavior. For one, I was truly convinced that I was going to burn the apartment down somehow so everytime I lit candles, blowing them out wasn't enough so I would put them in the freezer, of course, making sure that they were really out and not one of those trick candles that lit up again. If I had used the heater the night before, I would check the thermostat before leaving the house, which meant that I would be at the door and wasn't quite sure if it was off so I would go upstairs and check it again. The same went for checking to see if the door was locked. All the freedom and luxuries of living by myself was lost because I felt that everything I did would destroy the apartment, including turning the volume up on my speakers.

In retrospect, I wish I had moved out of the place. I would've saved a lot of money, and would have probably had one of those enriching college-aged experiences through interacting with real people. Then again I wouldn't have a fun story to tell.

*We accumulated a lot of furniture from various people -other college students- and places so nothing really matched. It was a very utilitarian aesthetic.