I don't remember most of it, but I am a pochahontas-like person. Meaning that I am Native American. Like eastern Native American, not western like Hopi or Navajo (and yes, I know that they are nothing alike and they hate each other with a passion). I was with another person of my kind, some young man who was my friend and maybe also my lover? I wasn't sure. I knew him, though, and that's as specific and our relationship went. So for some reason, we had munaqsri powers, like to give and take life away. But I could float. He couldn't. He must have pissed off some sort of munaqsri god so that he couldn't float anymore.
So... we went places with each other and did stuff I forgot. He put arrows in his long black hair as decoration. o.0 Like the arrowheads on his hair would give him good luck in terms of me liking him more as a lover or something. Then we were watching some dragony wind god do something odd, and he was in trouble. My Native American friend/person I knew/lover did/said something I didn't like so I started to scream foul names at him in our native language--not english. As I'm screaming at him, I'm floating upwards so that I can go help the dragon wind god and he can't because he can't float. I use some weird tall black blocks to help me float upward faster by pushing off them.
I get to the top of the blocks where the dragon wind god lives (which feels like I floated up forty something blocks but really was like a hundred something) and try to help him out. He's a little ceramic Asian Lung dragon, and he's sad because of something, like he doesn't ever move and gets dusty on a shelf. "Well, just move around," I tell him, and pick him up off the shelf and blow the dust off of him. It was like the idea had never occurred to him. He asked me to turn him into a baby or something and I told him I couldn't do that, one because he was still alive and two because I didn't know how I would do that without a baby being born.
I woke to the sound of a jackhammer. Or maybe it wasnt a jackhammer but instead a lawnmower. I don't know. I was too tired to get up and check.
"He put arrows in his long black hair as decoration. o.0 Like the arrowheads on his hair would give him good luck in terms of me liking him more as a lover or something."
ReplyDeleteThat reminds me of what Native Americans really did---something like they put feathers in their hat, facing forward, to ensure that their hunt would be successful.
When I first heard that Native Americans did that with their hats, I immediately thought of Holden, from Catcher in the Rye, and his hat-thing.
Since I first heard that, about their hats, I've wanted to write a story like that.
Again, your dreams seem cooler than mine. Then again, I'd never even have been able to dream about "munaqrsi"---I'd had no idea what it was until now D:
D8 SO MY DREAM WAS SIMILAR TO REAL LIFE! o.o Lil creepy, cuz it usually never is. I guess I must have dreamt about it because in the back of my mind, I think hair is magical. In this world, it's almost what defines you as a person. If you have hair that flatters your face and body shape, then people think you're a stylish person.
ReplyDeleteI get comments on my hair all the time.
"Your hair looks so healthy today!" Really? Cuz today was the one day I didn't feel like getting up early out of bed to take a shower. xP
"I like the way your hair looks. It's pretty cool." It seems that whenever I DON'T do anything to my hair, people like it. OR it's because they take it as a sign that I am having a bad enough day that I didn't feel like giving enough of a shit to make it pretty before I appeared out in public, so they feel obliged to give me a compliment despite my bad hair. xD
So, yeah. I rant about hair. xD
Munaqsri was just something I pulled out of a book I read to describe what kind of people we were. I wasn't sure that we actually WERE munaqsri, but it fit the description well enough. 8D
I think my grandma's the only one who ever compliments my hair... which REALLY tells you how un-stylish it must be! D:
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