Dream Journal: I tend to have some damn freaky dreams; but oddly, they don't tend to scare me much.
So last night's special effects extravaganza was a trip on the Titanic. Well, not exactly. I was on an anonymous ocean cruise liner, started off with a flash of being on it as it was up-ended and sinking -- then rewound, and started watching the story from the start. [Interesting how my mind starts with an abstract sometimes, then goes back to fill in the details. Associated Press writing style?]
Didn't actually get to the sinking part in the expanded version... I was hanging onto the side, and see monster waves heading at us. First one's half as tall as the ship, and I think we can make it over as long as we don't take it sideways. Second wave's twice as tall as the ship -- we start taking water with that one. Third is as tall as a mountain and basically blocks out the sun.
...I figure tidal waves are the equivalent of earthquakes in dreamland -- emotional upheaval, trying to stay standing while it seems like the whole world around you is unsettled. Had a powerful (but not bad) conversation last night, in which I'm finding out that a lot of givens are maybe not the same anymore. Probably residual from that.
Had another segment where I was fingered as a terrorist. Interesting -- this is the second dream where that's happened. Nice to know that my subconscious has gotten with the times. It's a paranoia / persecution metaphor; having people want to burn me as a witch, or McCarthy shouting "are you now, or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party" would do just as well.
In this particular bit, I was the "terrorist" because I was singing a Nina Hagen song. Hmm... Might be you actually have to hear a Hagen song to understand what that means; her voice vacilates between an operatic yawn and demon-possessed growl -- it's hard not to think she's possessed by several freaked up personalities. Anyway, I was moshing by myself in the corner of a classroom, and a couple of pre-goth, black-wearing, Bauhaus punks join me in the rain dance.
Later, continuing this "I'm guilty of something" theme, I'm branded a murderer. See, I helped my two cohorts set up the catapult that shot a rock three miles across a lake into downtown Seattle, with the intent to kill... In mid-air, the rock was revised into a "yield" sign; I became the target, chained to the ground like Prometheus; and the spinning metal square misses my neck by mere feet. [It was a long shot, after all!] So after surviving this attempt on my own life (??), I'm confronted by three pitchfork-wielding villagers who are shouting about my guilt. Oh, and they won't come too close because they think I'm a vampire, to boot.
Nothing that unusual for my psyche, but still -- what the heck? Best guess at the moment is free-floating poly guilt. I don't know that I've seen anyone write about it, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone in this phenomena... A little voice on the far backburner that says you're doing something wrong, despite informed consent and positive feedback on all sides. Just cuz you're going counter to the mainstream rules, I guess, the feeling is that "I'm going to get caught".
Well, "shut yo mouth", brain.
Finally caught up some on sleep last night. Not great, maybe 7 hours, but I was in a world of hurt when I finally got to bed. Had the kind of headache that makes you wonder if you're going to throw up in the middle of the night. And I never have headaches. As I get older, they tend to be kinda serious warning sign. Stop what you're doing, take care of this.
What was I reading or listening to yesterday, that cautioned women to do more cardiovascular exercise, because heart attacks and strokes remain the biggest killers? I really need to get walking on the butte again...
So last night's special effects extravaganza was a trip on the Titanic. Well, not exactly. I was on an anonymous ocean cruise liner, started off with a flash of being on it as it was up-ended and sinking -- then rewound, and started watching the story from the start. [Interesting how my mind starts with an abstract sometimes, then goes back to fill in the details. Associated Press writing style?]
Didn't actually get to the sinking part in the expanded version... I was hanging onto the side, and see monster waves heading at us. First one's half as tall as the ship, and I think we can make it over as long as we don't take it sideways. Second wave's twice as tall as the ship -- we start taking water with that one. Third is as tall as a mountain and basically blocks out the sun.
...I figure tidal waves are the equivalent of earthquakes in dreamland -- emotional upheaval, trying to stay standing while it seems like the whole world around you is unsettled. Had a powerful (but not bad) conversation last night, in which I'm finding out that a lot of givens are maybe not the same anymore. Probably residual from that.
Had another segment where I was fingered as a terrorist. Interesting -- this is the second dream where that's happened. Nice to know that my subconscious has gotten with the times. It's a paranoia / persecution metaphor; having people want to burn me as a witch, or McCarthy shouting "are you now, or have you ever been a member of the Communist Party" would do just as well.
In this particular bit, I was the "terrorist" because I was singing a Nina Hagen song. Hmm... Might be you actually have to hear a Hagen song to understand what that means; her voice vacilates between an operatic yawn and demon-possessed growl -- it's hard not to think she's possessed by several freaked up personalities. Anyway, I was moshing by myself in the corner of a classroom, and a couple of pre-goth, black-wearing, Bauhaus punks join me in the rain dance.
Later, continuing this "I'm guilty of something" theme, I'm branded a murderer. See, I helped my two cohorts set up the catapult that shot a rock three miles across a lake into downtown Seattle, with the intent to kill... In mid-air, the rock was revised into a "yield" sign; I became the target, chained to the ground like Prometheus; and the spinning metal square misses my neck by mere feet. [It was a long shot, after all!] So after surviving this attempt on my own life (??), I'm confronted by three pitchfork-wielding villagers who are shouting about my guilt. Oh, and they won't come too close because they think I'm a vampire, to boot.
Nothing that unusual for my psyche, but still -- what the heck? Best guess at the moment is free-floating poly guilt. I don't know that I've seen anyone write about it, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not alone in this phenomena... A little voice on the far backburner that says you're doing something wrong, despite informed consent and positive feedback on all sides. Just cuz you're going counter to the mainstream rules, I guess, the feeling is that "I'm going to get caught".
Well, "shut yo mouth", brain.
Finally caught up some on sleep last night. Not great, maybe 7 hours, but I was in a world of hurt when I finally got to bed. Had the kind of headache that makes you wonder if you're going to throw up in the middle of the night. And I never have headaches. As I get older, they tend to be kinda serious warning sign. Stop what you're doing, take care of this.
What was I reading or listening to yesterday, that cautioned women to do more cardiovascular exercise, because heart attacks and strokes remain the biggest killers? I really need to get walking on the butte again...
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