I need to change the mood of this blog. There has been too much talk about death and sadness. So, now it is time to show my nerdy side. I have been collecting comic books all my life. It has always been an escape for me. I have noticed over the last several months to maybe about a year, I have not been reading my comics at all. Don’t get me wrong, I would still buy them and add them to the rest of the pile, but I just didn’t read them. I know myself. I knew that I will eventually get to them.
Then 2 weeks ago a I had a dream. I was in bathroom. I was either shaving or brushing my teeth, but when I opened up the medicine cabinet, falling out were comic books wrapped individually in plastic. The covers were so vivid that I could read the title of the different books, most of which did I did not collect. I had found this very strange because I have never dreamt about comic books before.
It turns out that I was having several weird dreams that week. This was just one that stood out to me. I have always believed that dreams are a way of our subconscious letting us know of issues that need to addressed by our conscious mind (I studied Carl Jung in college). Usually, if you do not try to figure out what your dream is about, you end up repeating them. So, I ended up going to this website and looked up the meaning of this dream. I will say that there were other occurrences in the dream that I am neglecting to divulge…but this part of that dream effected me greatly.
So I look up comic books and it states: To see comic books in a dream signifies that you are taking life too seriously. My jaw dropped. Have I been taking my life too seriously? Have I been this nut job that stressed myself our to no end? Is that why I stopped reading comic books (and regular books) because life is just too damn hard? This was a startling revelation to me. If you know me well enough, then you know that I am reading my comic books as soon as I buy them. I just haven’t been doing that.
I know that some women think that reading comics at my age is immature, but I don’t really give a shit. Let me just day that it was my mother who got me into reading comic books. She would buy them for me when I was very young. I would read them and enjoy the writing and the art. She knew what I collected and made sure I kept up with it. I may not have a great relationship with her, but by fondest memory of my mother was when I was sick with a fever in bed and I was just so miserable. She walked in with 10 new comic books for me to read. That made me feel better than anything else. It made me love to read and it made me want to write!
I have always wanted to be a writer when I was a kid. I actually wrote different adventures and at one point created my own superheroes with their own unique set of characteristics. In fact, I created a whole world of my own. I even shared my adventures with friends (I still have the book around here somewhere…). I also know how to draw, I just don’t think I am that great at it. As, I grew older my skills in writing became better than my skills at being an artist. Besides, it seemed that with every issue of Spiderman or the Justice League of America, my vocabulary improved. You would be surprised how much a 10 year old can comprehend when reading about a character named Firestorm when it come to Nuclear Mechanics and Atomic Restructuring.
My point is, this was escape for me. I lived in the Bronx and I would much rather run to the comic book store than play craps on the corner. Sure, I was made fun of and talked about by the “cool” kids, but I don’t see any of them with a blog 20 years later. So the principle remains the same. Comic books are an escape for me. The best part about them now is that they are now being written by writers who are my age and see the world almost the same way I do.
I finally starting reading them again this past weekend. I was very fulfilling. I didn’t think about any of my problems in the hours it took me to catch up. Well, there was book in particular in which Red Arrow got advice about love from Green Lantern…
Ok, I need to stop, but I will not stop reading…