I’ve never been one to dream that much, and when I do dream I can rarely remember anything I ever dreamed about. There are only 2 dreams throughout my entire life that I can even remember really. The first being when I was 5 and trying to rescue my little sister from being hurt (the dream was in Sepia), and the other was my first wet dream- but does anyone ever forget anything that significant?
However, I have been dreaming quite a lot lately, and remembering them vividly. I guess it also helps that I talk about it to people, so that way I don’t forget. Maybe the dreams mean nothing, but after the year I’ve had maybe they are a bit more meaningful, it’s definately something that I am trying to figure out.
Two really stand out in my mind.
The first was last night. The setting was very Sherlock Holmes like, and it took place in Poland. I was laying in a white bed on the top floor of what seemed to be a 3 story torture house. From the window next to my bed the roof stretch out, and went into a pool of water, with an Island just off of it. I was being molested by someone whom I knew very well, and crying. In the room next to me my Mom was yelling, and then all of a sudden she busts through the doors runs out the window and dissapears into the water. The person molesting me then went to the bathroom, cops came running into the room and went right out the window into the water. Seeing as this was my chance to escape I ran out into the cold night air of Poland. I was searching for help desperately, and terrified to turn any corners. All the buildings were dark and grimy and incredibly foreboding. No one would help me, and I needed to get back to America so I could escape my situation. I needed to get to the US embassy, but the building seemed farther and farther away with every step I took towards it. When I finally saw the building a single tear ran down my face and I woke up…
The other dream was from a few weeks ago. I was driving on a street and the area was very industrial and dark. Lots of factories, and barely any street lights. Fog started creeping over all my windows and then I noticed my rearview wasn’t facing me. When I turned it correctly I saw myself in the back seat. I was possessed and evil, and my jaw dropped trying to attack the “me” that was driving the vehicle. I grabbed the “demon me” by the mouth and slammed it into the window. Just at that moment the car crashed and exploded.
I look up what cars meant. It said that if you were driving you were living your life recklessly, or had no control over the traumantic events in your life that had just occured. (I could write a book on the things that have happened to me recently.) And then it said if you were in the back seat you had no control over the pain that people around you were causing you.
I was in both seats.
No comments:
Post a Comment