Depeche Mode Said it Best
Strange. Fricking REALLY strange-ass dreams. Anybody want to interpret this one?
I will look it up later, since I frequently interpret dreams my own way, the Freudian way when it suits me, and various other ways...
I had a series of powerful, disturbing waking dreams, this morning.
The details are beginning to fade a bit... but I believe I have not had any type of murdering dream for as long as I can remember. I would have noted it for being unusual in subject matter.
In this dream, I was interchangeably the accomplice and the primary murderer of several men. They looked like military men (don't ask me what military men look like, OK?), and they were betrayers of some sort. My personal belief is that man has flaws, and some that are quite deep, as well as socially unacceptable. When man is judged to be a deserter, a betrayer, a killer, a raper of women & thief of possessions, I believe that there is always some good... but sometimes the good is so overwhelmed, it would take a lifetime to put to rights.
Anyway. I hurt all over, this morning... I killed one of these men with my hands. This is something I am quite sure there is a slim-to-none chance of doing this irl due to having absolutely no upper body strength.
In the dream, however, the body mechanics of the act were in slow motion, and I could feel various muscle fibers tense & relax in response to what I needed them to do, and how my feet needed to be placed for maximum effectiveness, and where my upper body had to twist carefully, so that I wouldn't hurt myself as well. Etc.
I felt absolutely no remorse for killing anyone in this dream; I watched with a strong sense of detachment as the perpetrator killed another person, the blood spattering my clothes & smelling like old copper pennies. The other killer put the bodies into the trunk of the late-70's Pontiac Bonneville that we were driving. At one point, we were trying to figure out how to cover our tracks better, and were discussing this in the house that used to belong to my grandparents (now being inhabited by the Evil Uncle).
Urk, it's time to start getting ready for the day-- meaning that I am hungry & desperately need coffee. In this case, this also means that I am still rather disturbed by the dream, and am going to step back from it, this time.
I need better dream material. Seriously!
Cheers & All
I will look it up later, since I frequently interpret dreams my own way, the Freudian way when it suits me, and various other ways...
I had a series of powerful, disturbing waking dreams, this morning.
The details are beginning to fade a bit... but I believe I have not had any type of murdering dream for as long as I can remember. I would have noted it for being unusual in subject matter.
In this dream, I was interchangeably the accomplice and the primary murderer of several men. They looked like military men (don't ask me what military men look like, OK?), and they were betrayers of some sort. My personal belief is that man has flaws, and some that are quite deep, as well as socially unacceptable. When man is judged to be a deserter, a betrayer, a killer, a raper of women & thief of possessions, I believe that there is always some good... but sometimes the good is so overwhelmed, it would take a lifetime to put to rights.
Anyway. I hurt all over, this morning... I killed one of these men with my hands. This is something I am quite sure there is a slim-to-none chance of doing this irl due to having absolutely no upper body strength.
In the dream, however, the body mechanics of the act were in slow motion, and I could feel various muscle fibers tense & relax in response to what I needed them to do, and how my feet needed to be placed for maximum effectiveness, and where my upper body had to twist carefully, so that I wouldn't hurt myself as well. Etc.
I felt absolutely no remorse for killing anyone in this dream; I watched with a strong sense of detachment as the perpetrator killed another person, the blood spattering my clothes & smelling like old copper pennies. The other killer put the bodies into the trunk of the late-70's Pontiac Bonneville that we were driving. At one point, we were trying to figure out how to cover our tracks better, and were discussing this in the house that used to belong to my grandparents (now being inhabited by the Evil Uncle).
Urk, it's time to start getting ready for the day-- meaning that I am hungry & desperately need coffee. In this case, this also means that I am still rather disturbed by the dream, and am going to step back from it, this time.
I need better dream material. Seriously!
Cheers & All