I had a dream last night that I was at some kind of school-sponsored fight at Cary-Grove. My plan was the same as for dodgeball, hang around toward the back and emerge as the last one standing at the end. My friend Jena, who actually lives in Pennsylvania was there and she tossed me a bag of those “hope” rocks to hold for her while she jumped into the fray. Suddenly, Amanda’s ex Russell came up to me and started choking me. I was unable to get loose, so I swung with all my might and hit him in the back of the head with the bag of rocks. I ran away and later learned that I had killed him.
Archive for the ‘Dreams’ Category
Last night, I was lying in bed beginning to go to sleep when my mind became conscious of the light. I had forgotten to unplug my laptop and the bright blue signal of this fact was sending its halo out across my room. I attempted to sit up and stare directly at the source of the light, as if my mild annoyance were enough to pull the plug out. Sometimes I still believe I am Matilda.
Only as I tried to look at the light, I realized I couldn’t see it. No matter how I angled my head, there was something from my desk blocking my view. I realized I could see the aura even better when I laid back down and decided it wasn’t so important to see where it was coming from.
In a way, this is a lot like how I view God. I was brought up with religion, but in a very easy-going (perhaps lazy) household in which my mother took us to church but we didn’t really talk about it once we left. I also went to Catholic school. We prayed every day and went to Mass during school hours a couple times a month, but otherwise it now seems pretty secular. Other than religion classes that were more about teaching certain stories in the Bible than anything else, we didn’t really talk about God.
When I got older and had more experience with people from Protestant religions, I began to wonder if what I had experienced was indicative of Catholicism or just my particular experience. I believed in God and had one-sided conversations with him in my head, but I wasn’t outward, Evangelical. I actually became annoyed with how much some Protestants brought it up in their speech, in times where invoking God didn’t seem to serve any purpose I could uncover. I remember one of my cousins getting upset and an aunt (not the mother) quietly telling her that God would forgive her for her bad behavior. This was to a five year old. When I was that age, I didn’t understand proportion. Bringing up how God would feel about her actions may have upset her even more. It would have done so to me.
This is where the laptop light comes back in. There have been times in my academic career when I have questioned the nature of God, of faith. I have always felt that some element was beyond our comprehension, that we could never really know what he/she/it/they wanted from us, but I have no doubt of its existence. I can feel it around me. I don’t need to see it or talk about it for it to be a real experience. I could just get up and unplug the light. Certainly that might make more sense to some people as the logical thing to do. Even so, I don’t feel I need to directly affect the light in some way. I really don’t mind its presence in my room.
The dream I had last night was really long and involved, so I can only remember bits of it.
First there seemed to be some sort of arbitrary caste system identified by color scheme, similar to The Handmaid’s tale but on a smaller scale and the colors somehow responded to wealth and genetic purity. I think I was in red or yellow but was attempting to masquerade as blue (the highest).
At one point I remember I was showing a red woman a secret passage built between her main floor and basement, accesible by pulling down one of the corrugated tiles from her basement ceiling. I explained that her late husband had been in the resistance and planned this way for her to escape, similar to what my father had done for me.
In another part of the dream I had snuck into the bedroom of a little blue girl and was asking her questions to gain information (don’t remember about what). I think there was some passage connected to their house as well, because I hid a ladder in her closet. Her mother started to come into the room so I attempted to hide under her bed, but I wasn’t fast enough and she saw my hand.
Later, downstairs, I lied through my teeth and said I was a blue that had been captured and experimented upon with recombinant gene technology that injected the DNA of a cat into my system. The blue mother was horrified on my behalf, but I could tell she also didn’t quite believe me. She asked to see my hat and I thought gratefully back to how I had fabricated a blue hat the week before. It was a kind of small sombrero. We heard on the radio that a couple of her neighbors had called in to complain about her lights still being on. She turned them off and I considered just running out of her house but knew that she would catch me.
Last night I had a dream. I was at Panda Express, the only one there opening up the store. I saw that there was a whole new extra counter with very non-Chinesae foods on it, haggis being the most noticeable.
Suddenly Dr. House was there. I commented that it was great we had these new holiday flavors, that I hadn’t had haggis since July. He gave me a sardonic grin.
I had a dream last night that my mother wanted me to go with her to Russia for one day. In the dream she was traveling for work, which is strange because my mother is a receptionist.
She told me to grab my winter coat and hat, because even though it is summer here, it was supposedly wintry cold in Russia. Then, suddenly, we were there, in a big ballroom at the Russian ambassador’s house. There were many young people there getting ready for some sort of clubbing or dance to start.
I remember noticing at this point that I was wearing blue jeans and my pink Remus Lupins tshirt.
A fairly attractive boy came over to me and somehow I knew he was the son of someone in power. He asked me where the bread was. I was confused and told him I wasn’t the bread maker. He then became angry when I asserted that I had never made bread in my life. He demanded that I leave.
There was an older, more polished man standing on the table and suddenly calling for my departure as well. For whatever reason, I took a rolled up poster of the table in front of me and threw it at him. I missed, but he tossed one at me. I ducked and grabbed another, landing this one through the space between his legs.
I noticed an older man looking at me and I held up my arms in the gesture for “That’s a field goal, Bob!”