Demons
People don't usually remember dreams, myself included. Normally, the details blur away the moment we open our eyes, the reality of the dream giving way to another realty. This wasn't the case for me this morning. I had dreamt I had resurrected from the dead...
I was on vacation, in some resort, I don't know where. (I don't go to resorts taht much) I was with friends, a mixture of boys and girls. I can't quite remember if they were my blockmates or orgmates, point is, whoever they were, I was quite comfortable with them and we were having a hell of a time. Then, for some really strange reason, we all had to go for an interview -- something regarding a really sought-after prize. Excited as hell, we all waited for our turns to be interviewed. One by one, my friends went to the interview venue and came back optimistic. Finally my name was called, and it was my turn to make the trip from the poolside to the hidden room on the second floor of the resort hotel. Unlike the modern fascade of the building, the second floor was rotting. Wooden planks were hanging from the walls. Cobwebs were everywhere and there was a stench so strong that I could actually smell it. (even while sleeping)
As I was about to enter the room, a man greeted me: tall, lanky, dressed in a suit, yet utterly creepy. His preence gave me a feeling of terror and I had to ask him if I could use the washroom first before entering. He nodded in response.
The washrrom was about twenty paces away, and the hall leading to it grew darker and darker as I approached. I stood at the entrance and listened to a slight whisper which told me not to enter. I ignored it. Heading to the nearest cubicle from the door, something seemed amist. Someone, rather something else was there. As I opened the cubicle dorr, I found my hunch to be true. There, inside, stood a ghost, transparent and hideous like most TV ghosts we see in movies. Yet, there was something different with this ghost. He/she (I couldn't tell), as the eyes gave away, looked kind. I felt at peace in front of it.
The ghost then took out a knife and motioned as if s/he were going to stab me. The strange thing was, I did nothing. I merely stood there, not scared, not nervous, but numb as the cold steel made its way through my torso. I felt the sting, yet it didn't matter. I felt myself leaving my body, and saw it lying on the murky washroom floor. I was a soul, and yet I wasn't aware of it. I made my way back down to the poolside where my friends were having fun. I tried talking to them, but no one noticed me. I tried to get their attention, but the effort was futile. That's when it hit me: I was dead.
I went back to the washrooom on the second floor and saw my cold body once again, the ghost hovering over it, it's kind countenance still very much visible. We looked into each others eyes, and, as if able to read my thoughts, s/he motioned that I return to my body. I did as s/he gestured, and, with one fluid motion, the ghost kneeled down and kissed me, allowing life to flow back into my motionless cadaver.
I was alive again, and went back down to my friends, who failed to recognize me at first, but eventually saw me. They wondered where I had gone and why I seemed different. I couldn't answer.
Weird...
Could it be a sign, something that could mean much more? Is this dream telling me that I should start anew and live a totally different life? Or am I just desperately giving meaning, in the form of a dream, to a life which has ceased to be exciting?
Whatever..
I was on vacation, in some resort, I don't know where. (I don't go to resorts taht much) I was with friends, a mixture of boys and girls. I can't quite remember if they were my blockmates or orgmates, point is, whoever they were, I was quite comfortable with them and we were having a hell of a time. Then, for some really strange reason, we all had to go for an interview -- something regarding a really sought-after prize. Excited as hell, we all waited for our turns to be interviewed. One by one, my friends went to the interview venue and came back optimistic. Finally my name was called, and it was my turn to make the trip from the poolside to the hidden room on the second floor of the resort hotel. Unlike the modern fascade of the building, the second floor was rotting. Wooden planks were hanging from the walls. Cobwebs were everywhere and there was a stench so strong that I could actually smell it. (even while sleeping)
As I was about to enter the room, a man greeted me: tall, lanky, dressed in a suit, yet utterly creepy. His preence gave me a feeling of terror and I had to ask him if I could use the washroom first before entering. He nodded in response.
The washrrom was about twenty paces away, and the hall leading to it grew darker and darker as I approached. I stood at the entrance and listened to a slight whisper which told me not to enter. I ignored it. Heading to the nearest cubicle from the door, something seemed amist. Someone, rather something else was there. As I opened the cubicle dorr, I found my hunch to be true. There, inside, stood a ghost, transparent and hideous like most TV ghosts we see in movies. Yet, there was something different with this ghost. He/she (I couldn't tell), as the eyes gave away, looked kind. I felt at peace in front of it.
The ghost then took out a knife and motioned as if s/he were going to stab me. The strange thing was, I did nothing. I merely stood there, not scared, not nervous, but numb as the cold steel made its way through my torso. I felt the sting, yet it didn't matter. I felt myself leaving my body, and saw it lying on the murky washroom floor. I was a soul, and yet I wasn't aware of it. I made my way back down to the poolside where my friends were having fun. I tried talking to them, but no one noticed me. I tried to get their attention, but the effort was futile. That's when it hit me: I was dead.
I went back to the washrooom on the second floor and saw my cold body once again, the ghost hovering over it, it's kind countenance still very much visible. We looked into each others eyes, and, as if able to read my thoughts, s/he motioned that I return to my body. I did as s/he gestured, and, with one fluid motion, the ghost kneeled down and kissed me, allowing life to flow back into my motionless cadaver.
I was alive again, and went back down to my friends, who failed to recognize me at first, but eventually saw me. They wondered where I had gone and why I seemed different. I couldn't answer.
Weird...
Could it be a sign, something that could mean much more? Is this dream telling me that I should start anew and live a totally different life? Or am I just desperately giving meaning, in the form of a dream, to a life which has ceased to be exciting?
Whatever..