A few days ago, I said this on tumblr:

UPG du jour: He likes when I dream about Him, and likes it more when I know I dreamed about Him but can’t remember the dream itself.

This isn’t anything new for me. I’ve been dreaming about Him for years, and I’ve come to accept that dreaming of Him is not something I have control over, before, during, or after.

Years ago, I had my first “big” dream of Him.

I remember walking down a darkened hall, past doors without number. Some of the doors had writing I could not read; some had masks I did not recognize, some had symbols I did not know. I saw something that made me think of Krishna, and a wide brimmed-hat I associated with Odin. I saw a caduceus on another door. I remember continuing down the hall until I saw Him, or rather, I knew He was there.

I remember being irritated, the way I (often) felt in those days when I didn’t quite understand what or who I was dealing with. “What do you want? What is this?” I yelled. “You can’t just do things like this. You can’t just harass me like this. You want to say something, say something. Don’t be all smoke-and-mirrors about it.”

He chuckled or he didn’t; the memory has mutated by my own experiences with Him since then. I remember getting more and more infuriated, clenching my fists and yelling, because I was afraid or just annoyed, I’m not sure.

Finally, He said, “Do you want to understand?”

“Of course I do! What’s the point of me being here?”

He nodded briefly, and said, “I can explain it to you.”

“Good.”

“But you won’t remember.”

I remember thinking about this for a while as I tried to piece together what I could of the hallway, of the masks and symbols, of the shadowed god before me, of why, suddenly, in this strange time in my life, surrounded by friends who would eventually betray me, unsure of my needs, my place, my self, why this god would, after decades of hiding in innuendo and strange circumstance and vague coincidence, why now, suddenly, this god was appearing to me, blatant and secretive all at once.

“Fine,” I remember agreeing.

And I remember He smiled.

And of course I don’t remember anything after that.

My post on tumblr was not about that dream, but another like it. I remember being in my current home, which was empty, and listening to Him as He explained why I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to be doing. I remember He told me what was needed, what I wasn’t doing, but beyond that, it’s all a mystery.

I don’t remember in my thoughts. The memory is vague and stolen by that brainwashing that happens to nearly all dreams upon awakening. But a stress is building in me. I am not doing what I should be doing. He indulges me, and has indulged me for my whole life. And I have not been a good devotee, by any means.