Dream of: 13 July 1997 "Poe, Coleridge, and Baudelaire"

I was just about to say good-bye to my wife Carolina so I could go camping for a night at a place where I had already set up a tent. Although Carolina was aware I was going camping, she was unaware that Donna Griffiths was waiting for me in the tent, and that I was planning to have an affair with Donna.

I had already been with Donna once before and had never told Carolina about it. I didn't like sneaking off to see Donna and deceiving Carolina, and now I was beginning to feel guilty. It seemed I had been avoiding the problem of my unfaithfulness for quite a while, ever since I had first seen Donna. I had managed to suppress the guilt. But now that Donna was once again waiting for me, the problem had resurfaced. I was anxious to see Donna again, but I simply didn't want to keep deceiving Carolina. I was unsure what to do.

Carolina was also going to go somewhere and we were busy taking care of some last minute matters before we left. I knew I needed to water some large plants which we had growing around a multi-deck patio area, all in large planters. The plants would later be able to be eaten, something like lettuce. As Carolina and I began watering the plants, I began telling Carolina she needed to make sure she didn't eat any of the suckers from the plants. Carolina didn't know what suckers were and I began explaining it to her. I explained that these plants were like tobacco plants. Tobacco plants had small, extra leaves that grew on them, and these extra leaves had to be pulled off at a certain point in the tobacco plant's development. I pointed out to Carolina that I had already broken off some of the suckers on the other plants, showing her where I had broken off the extra leaves.

As I continued my explanation about suckers, I also began thinking of my use of drugs and how I hadn't used any drugs in a long time. The desire to use drugs hadn't gone away, and I still felt as if I would like to use some. However I did feel as if I were now at a point where it was up to me whether I wanted to use drugs. Once again it was my choice and in that regard I seemed to have regained something. I could now clearly see a way of life which I had thought no longer could be mine.

My vision was in the form of writers which I had read. I knew some writers who had used drugs -- such as Poe, Coleridge and Baudelaire -- had held a certain fascination for me and had seemed to embody the kind of person I was. However I now saw more clearly something dark and lugubrious about their writings. What I now saw was that there were other writers whom I had read (no specific ones came to mind, but I knew I had read them) who had never used drugs and whose writings were much more full of light and innocence. I had thought such a way of life had been forever closed to me. But now I saw I still had that option. I was unsure which way I would go. It was rather like realizing it was actually possible for me to live the sort of happy life I had experienced before I had ever taken any drugs. I hadn't thought this was possible. But now I saw it was possible. Yet I was still unsure I would take it. Even though I didn't use drugs, thoughts of drugs were still a big part of my life and I was unsure I wanted to give them up.

The plants which I was watering now looked more like corn plants, about half way grown. Some of the plants even had ears of corn not fully grown on them. One plant even had a couple of erect ears close to the ground. It looked as if the plants had been neglected for a short period of time and at one point had started to turn brown. But fortunately it appeared that we had begun caring for the plants again in time and that they would still produce good corn.

I was watering the plants with a hose, and I began spraying water on one plant on a level of the patio just over my head. It was sitting on a table and suddenly I saw that a couple books lying on the table. I called to Carolina, who was close to the books, and I asked her to move them. She picked them up and grimaced at the water on them. But she wiped it off and it looked as if no harm had been done to the books. I then continued watering.

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