Dream interpretation anyone?
I had an interesting dream this morning and just had to write it down as soon as I woke up. Think anyone can help me figure out if it means anything?
I fall asleep, knowing I’ll have to get up and get ready for class in an hour or so. But when I wake up (or at least I think I wake up), it’s to find myself partially naked, wearing only my nightwear of a t-shirt and my underwear. I also have my brother’s heavy snow-themed blanket. I don’t know how I know yet, but apparently 3 years have passed since that night that I remember falling asleep. I don’t know what happened to cause me to miss so much time and wind up where I am. The area is muddy with grass and water, and the sky is dark with angry clouds as if a storm were coming. To my left is a chain-link fence where I can see some houses behind with grassy hills and yet my mind tells me I’m back in Laredo, the landscape set in the brush area along International (except not as dry and brown looking) and the road to my right is dark and runs on for who knows how long, I just know I can’t walk along it. So I start walking forward, in the muddy water and grass, trying to get my way back home. I pass a guy in a broken down car with no roof, looking as if he were trying to start it again. He doesn’t notice me and I continue on walking, knowing that I can’t help even if I asked, and shouldn’t anyways cause of what I’m wearing. I eventually come to notice that I’m walking along the drain path and climb up the small steep to dryer, leveler land on the left along the fence. I look to the other side of the fence again to see this massive storm raging. I don’t feel it, but I can tell it’s coming just by watching it. The clouds are dark and ominous, reaching all the way to the ground, and I can make out angry faces in them, laughing at the destruction it is causing and feels it has right in doing. The storm seems to be on a set path for it continues straight, never passing over me and yet I can watch the whole thing. Fire can be seen within its grey folds and all that’s left in its wake are ashes. I can’t see the houses anymore, though I can still make out the hills. People are still there as well; they are having fun with the ash as if it were fresh fallen snow, though I can hear a few guys saying about not eating it in a chiding manner. I continue walking throughout this ordeal with only a pause to have watched the passing storm. The sky is still dark, as if the heavens still plan to rain down on me while I try to make my way home on foot.
The area seems to shift into a kind of wooded area with a walking trail, and as I walk along the trail, I come upon a wooden bridge with no sides and a thin, but heavily flowing river underneath. It starts to rain, and I cover myself with the still clean, blue blanket I awoke with. I pass over the bridge, home on my mind and lukewarm, light rain falling over and around me. I still do not know that I have been missing and presumed dead for 3 years, and yet unconsciously, I can tell time has passed and the world has continued on without me. As I pass over the bridge, the woods seem to thin out enough that I can see the sky clearly, seeing that it is still dark and grey with branches of lightning streaking across the sky. My only thought is to avoid metal but to find shelter or I will be shocked. There is a green, covered bus stop ahead of me, and yet I don’t stop for the frame and floor are made of green-painted steel. The rain stopped at some point, yet I don’t really notice, instead continuing on and trying to find my way home. I pass some people along the path, but they ignore me as I walk, hoping to find someone trustworthy who can take me home. I pass a park ranger and consider asking him for help, but then notice he is leaning on a crutch on his right side and missing a leg, instead having a silver rod replacement, one you might find on a fantasy pirate though made of wood. I decide against bothering the ranger and continue on. My thoughts then pause as I realize something. This is the Burroughs Park along Kuykendahl in the Tomball/Spring area (or at least that’s what my mind tells me, for I can’t recall what the actual park looks like), I could just walk home to Wimbledon Falls! So I continue onward. Except this isn’t the area I have come to know as of late.
As I exit the park, the area opens up to one of the neighboring streets that I used to walk along when we lived on Carrol Lane in Laredo, except the trees are fuller and bigger, giving it a still wooded feeling. Though I continue to think it is an easy path home, I move on. As I reach the curve, a green Metro-like bus stops in front of me. The driver asks if I need a ride, though the doors to the bus do not open. I tell him through the glass that I do not have any money, and in my mind I’m thinking that I am still half naked and should not be riding in public like that (even though I apparently have no problem walking like that with only a thick blue blanket to cover myself). The bus driver then shakes his head in a reprimanding way, asking if should I not be in school at this time. I walk past the bus without another word, thinking to myself that no, I don’t go to school but instead to college and I don’t have class right now, I just want to go home.
As I walk, I pass through the houses and come upon an open area (still with a forest-y feel to it as there are still thick trees around it) and, a little further ahead, a series of buildings that to my mind apparently look like a type of school you’d find in England. Also in my mind I realize that someone there could help me home. I run up to the school, which is a bit on an incline, and walk along one of the buildings. When I first spotted the school, I saw but a few people walking around, now that I’m closer and can see more in between the buildings, I see more students in uniforms walking around. The uniform consists of a white polo shirt with black pants. I wander around, still looking for someone to help me while I use my still clean blanket as a minor shield around my shoulders (though it just sticks to me for I can’t feel myself actually holding it and move my arms freely). Continuing on, I pass a couple of boys (who are not wearing the uniform and instead, one is wearing darker clothes) who apparently have chosen a target among the students to pick on. That upsets me and I look quickly for their target. We are still a good distance from the person, though I can tell upon sight it is her; a young girl who looks similar to me but is not me, dressed in mostly black and seems rather shy. I don’t know how I know she’s their target, but I know and go to walk up to her. I talk to her as if I’ve known her before, though I do not know what we say. The boys walk up to us and start saying something to her that I can’t hear, though I know the teasing has begun for she seems upset. I snap into action, telling the boys off and protecting the girl. They look at me as if they wanted to say this isn’t my business, but instead they walk off, somehow knowing that I’m older than I look and should not to be messed with. I turn back to the girl and smile, the girl looking grateful. I nod as I usually do when I please someone and then start looking around again, unconsciously noticing that no one is really wearing the uniform anymore, though I don’t care. The task to find my way home is back on my mind and I once again search for someone who could help me.
I walk towards a building, subconsciously knowing that the girl I just helped wasn’t behind me anymore, as if she were never there in the first place. As I skirt along one of buildings, I find an old friend whom I knew in high school. She still looks the same, as if no time has passed from now and when we graduated. I talk to her, trying to find out what has happened. She is surprised to see me, quickly telling me that everyone thought I was dead. I’m confused by her statement and she clarifies, calmly I might add, saying that I’ve been missing for 3 years. I ask her how that is possible as I don’t remember just how this all started. She tells me that I was in some sort of car accident 3 years ago, and that when they freed me from the car I was delirious and confused. I don’t recall anything of the car accident or even remember driving at any point before this. All I remembered was going to sleep and then waking in this present time. I ask her how it went from the car accident to now and she responds as I thought she would, she doesn’t know. I just disappeared from that point. I nod, accepting what she has told me. I wonder about my parents and my oldest sister, along with some of my friends (though I do not know they’re faces). I ask my friend if she perhaps drove to school today (strange that I don’t wonder just why she is here at this school) and if perhaps she could give me a ride home. She looks unsure and tells me that she doesn’t have enough money right now. Though confusing to an outside point of view, I know that what she means is that she doesn’t have much money for gas and I realize that my home, whichever one it is, is a good distance from here (though I know not where exactly here is). So I then ask to borrow her phone to call home. She does and I call, I say it like that for I don’t recall dialing the numbers, simply the phone was in my hand and I can hear the dialing tone already. My sister answers. Again, I know not what words we exchange but I know she is surprised to know that I am alive. She tells me about how everyone mourned for me when I disappeared, especially my mother, how devastated she must have been, and I find myself feeling guilty for causing her this pain, even if I know not how or why I disappeared in the first place.
The dream then shifts from there and I suddenly find myself in my mother’s bedroom with my sister lying on the bed talking to me and explaining what has happened. I don’t know when I got to the house, except that a friend did in fact bring me. I also notice that my mom’s bedroom is that of the Carrol house, though subconsciously I know it to be the Split Rock house. I continue to ask my sister questions on what has happened these past years and if anyone knew what really happened to me. She doesn’t say much from there, though I can tell she is tired of talking about it and so I let it drop. My mother then walks in, embracing me swiftly in her strong but lean arms. I can feel how much she missed me, and her pain when I disappeared and I hug her all the more fiercely. I don’t know how long she has been grieving, but I know she hasn’t been herself in a while simply by looking at the book that now lay on the bed. If 3 years have truly passed, then she must have not done much within the time for the book is one I remember her reading before this whole occurrence. It’s a red Robin Cook book, a medical-mystery type, that I can recall her reading only 1/4th of the way before this; now the bookmark lay but only 3/4th’s of the way and I know it’s not because she’s re-reading it.
At this point I don’t know whether the dream continues on or not for I do not recall, simply that I now awake to the sound of my alarm at 8:30 AM in reality. Interesting what the mind can produce in the form of dreams in the span of an hour, ne?
Sorry if my writing is rough or confusing. I don't write very often and sometimes my mind gets ahead of my hands and I leave out some words.
Let me know what you think?
I fall asleep, knowing I’ll have to get up and get ready for class in an hour or so. But when I wake up (or at least I think I wake up), it’s to find myself partially naked, wearing only my nightwear of a t-shirt and my underwear. I also have my brother’s heavy snow-themed blanket. I don’t know how I know yet, but apparently 3 years have passed since that night that I remember falling asleep. I don’t know what happened to cause me to miss so much time and wind up where I am. The area is muddy with grass and water, and the sky is dark with angry clouds as if a storm were coming. To my left is a chain-link fence where I can see some houses behind with grassy hills and yet my mind tells me I’m back in Laredo, the landscape set in the brush area along International (except not as dry and brown looking) and the road to my right is dark and runs on for who knows how long, I just know I can’t walk along it. So I start walking forward, in the muddy water and grass, trying to get my way back home. I pass a guy in a broken down car with no roof, looking as if he were trying to start it again. He doesn’t notice me and I continue on walking, knowing that I can’t help even if I asked, and shouldn’t anyways cause of what I’m wearing. I eventually come to notice that I’m walking along the drain path and climb up the small steep to dryer, leveler land on the left along the fence. I look to the other side of the fence again to see this massive storm raging. I don’t feel it, but I can tell it’s coming just by watching it. The clouds are dark and ominous, reaching all the way to the ground, and I can make out angry faces in them, laughing at the destruction it is causing and feels it has right in doing. The storm seems to be on a set path for it continues straight, never passing over me and yet I can watch the whole thing. Fire can be seen within its grey folds and all that’s left in its wake are ashes. I can’t see the houses anymore, though I can still make out the hills. People are still there as well; they are having fun with the ash as if it were fresh fallen snow, though I can hear a few guys saying about not eating it in a chiding manner. I continue walking throughout this ordeal with only a pause to have watched the passing storm. The sky is still dark, as if the heavens still plan to rain down on me while I try to make my way home on foot.
The area seems to shift into a kind of wooded area with a walking trail, and as I walk along the trail, I come upon a wooden bridge with no sides and a thin, but heavily flowing river underneath. It starts to rain, and I cover myself with the still clean, blue blanket I awoke with. I pass over the bridge, home on my mind and lukewarm, light rain falling over and around me. I still do not know that I have been missing and presumed dead for 3 years, and yet unconsciously, I can tell time has passed and the world has continued on without me. As I pass over the bridge, the woods seem to thin out enough that I can see the sky clearly, seeing that it is still dark and grey with branches of lightning streaking across the sky. My only thought is to avoid metal but to find shelter or I will be shocked. There is a green, covered bus stop ahead of me, and yet I don’t stop for the frame and floor are made of green-painted steel. The rain stopped at some point, yet I don’t really notice, instead continuing on and trying to find my way home. I pass some people along the path, but they ignore me as I walk, hoping to find someone trustworthy who can take me home. I pass a park ranger and consider asking him for help, but then notice he is leaning on a crutch on his right side and missing a leg, instead having a silver rod replacement, one you might find on a fantasy pirate though made of wood. I decide against bothering the ranger and continue on. My thoughts then pause as I realize something. This is the Burroughs Park along Kuykendahl in the Tomball/Spring area (or at least that’s what my mind tells me, for I can’t recall what the actual park looks like), I could just walk home to Wimbledon Falls! So I continue onward. Except this isn’t the area I have come to know as of late.
As I exit the park, the area opens up to one of the neighboring streets that I used to walk along when we lived on Carrol Lane in Laredo, except the trees are fuller and bigger, giving it a still wooded feeling. Though I continue to think it is an easy path home, I move on. As I reach the curve, a green Metro-like bus stops in front of me. The driver asks if I need a ride, though the doors to the bus do not open. I tell him through the glass that I do not have any money, and in my mind I’m thinking that I am still half naked and should not be riding in public like that (even though I apparently have no problem walking like that with only a thick blue blanket to cover myself). The bus driver then shakes his head in a reprimanding way, asking if should I not be in school at this time. I walk past the bus without another word, thinking to myself that no, I don’t go to school but instead to college and I don’t have class right now, I just want to go home.
As I walk, I pass through the houses and come upon an open area (still with a forest-y feel to it as there are still thick trees around it) and, a little further ahead, a series of buildings that to my mind apparently look like a type of school you’d find in England. Also in my mind I realize that someone there could help me home. I run up to the school, which is a bit on an incline, and walk along one of the buildings. When I first spotted the school, I saw but a few people walking around, now that I’m closer and can see more in between the buildings, I see more students in uniforms walking around. The uniform consists of a white polo shirt with black pants. I wander around, still looking for someone to help me while I use my still clean blanket as a minor shield around my shoulders (though it just sticks to me for I can’t feel myself actually holding it and move my arms freely). Continuing on, I pass a couple of boys (who are not wearing the uniform and instead, one is wearing darker clothes) who apparently have chosen a target among the students to pick on. That upsets me and I look quickly for their target. We are still a good distance from the person, though I can tell upon sight it is her; a young girl who looks similar to me but is not me, dressed in mostly black and seems rather shy. I don’t know how I know she’s their target, but I know and go to walk up to her. I talk to her as if I’ve known her before, though I do not know what we say. The boys walk up to us and start saying something to her that I can’t hear, though I know the teasing has begun for she seems upset. I snap into action, telling the boys off and protecting the girl. They look at me as if they wanted to say this isn’t my business, but instead they walk off, somehow knowing that I’m older than I look and should not to be messed with. I turn back to the girl and smile, the girl looking grateful. I nod as I usually do when I please someone and then start looking around again, unconsciously noticing that no one is really wearing the uniform anymore, though I don’t care. The task to find my way home is back on my mind and I once again search for someone who could help me.
I walk towards a building, subconsciously knowing that the girl I just helped wasn’t behind me anymore, as if she were never there in the first place. As I skirt along one of buildings, I find an old friend whom I knew in high school. She still looks the same, as if no time has passed from now and when we graduated. I talk to her, trying to find out what has happened. She is surprised to see me, quickly telling me that everyone thought I was dead. I’m confused by her statement and she clarifies, calmly I might add, saying that I’ve been missing for 3 years. I ask her how that is possible as I don’t remember just how this all started. She tells me that I was in some sort of car accident 3 years ago, and that when they freed me from the car I was delirious and confused. I don’t recall anything of the car accident or even remember driving at any point before this. All I remembered was going to sleep and then waking in this present time. I ask her how it went from the car accident to now and she responds as I thought she would, she doesn’t know. I just disappeared from that point. I nod, accepting what she has told me. I wonder about my parents and my oldest sister, along with some of my friends (though I do not know they’re faces). I ask my friend if she perhaps drove to school today (strange that I don’t wonder just why she is here at this school) and if perhaps she could give me a ride home. She looks unsure and tells me that she doesn’t have enough money right now. Though confusing to an outside point of view, I know that what she means is that she doesn’t have much money for gas and I realize that my home, whichever one it is, is a good distance from here (though I know not where exactly here is). So I then ask to borrow her phone to call home. She does and I call, I say it like that for I don’t recall dialing the numbers, simply the phone was in my hand and I can hear the dialing tone already. My sister answers. Again, I know not what words we exchange but I know she is surprised to know that I am alive. She tells me about how everyone mourned for me when I disappeared, especially my mother, how devastated she must have been, and I find myself feeling guilty for causing her this pain, even if I know not how or why I disappeared in the first place.
The dream then shifts from there and I suddenly find myself in my mother’s bedroom with my sister lying on the bed talking to me and explaining what has happened. I don’t know when I got to the house, except that a friend did in fact bring me. I also notice that my mom’s bedroom is that of the Carrol house, though subconsciously I know it to be the Split Rock house. I continue to ask my sister questions on what has happened these past years and if anyone knew what really happened to me. She doesn’t say much from there, though I can tell she is tired of talking about it and so I let it drop. My mother then walks in, embracing me swiftly in her strong but lean arms. I can feel how much she missed me, and her pain when I disappeared and I hug her all the more fiercely. I don’t know how long she has been grieving, but I know she hasn’t been herself in a while simply by looking at the book that now lay on the bed. If 3 years have truly passed, then she must have not done much within the time for the book is one I remember her reading before this whole occurrence. It’s a red Robin Cook book, a medical-mystery type, that I can recall her reading only 1/4th of the way before this; now the bookmark lay but only 3/4th’s of the way and I know it’s not because she’s re-reading it.
At this point I don’t know whether the dream continues on or not for I do not recall, simply that I now awake to the sound of my alarm at 8:30 AM in reality. Interesting what the mind can produce in the form of dreams in the span of an hour, ne?
Sorry if my writing is rough or confusing. I don't write very often and sometimes my mind gets ahead of my hands and I leave out some words.
Let me know what you think?