Dreams
All right, now that I've complained about zombies, let's move on to the chosen topic. I've had some noteworthy dreams lately.
Last week there was a dream in which I got to speak to my grandfather. Unlike the other dreams I've had about my grandparents, this one didn't freak me out. I don't know what we talked about, but I remember hugging him. It was extremely liberating, like it was the closure I'd been seeking.
This morning, by comparison, was very, very different.
The dream started at the church. Don't ask me why I was taking a shower at the church, because there's no facility at the church to let anyone take a shower. But I can only assume that's what happened, since I spent the entire dream running around in my oversized purple bath towel.
There was a demon after me. I ran all the way home from church (no mean feat in a towel!) to hide in my mother's bathroom, but he was coming through the door. He was glowing red and looked vaguely like Gary Oldman.
"What do you want?"
"YOUR SOUL."
"You can't have my soul, it belongs to God."
Cue roar of annoyance. And then I went into exorcism mode. I just kept saying, over and over, "In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to be gone." I was speaking in tongues at one point, but that's always what I was saying. And it was working -- he grew smaller and less powerful and more irritated, and eventually shrank down and fell out the window to assume the form of a dead fox lying in the neighbor's yard.
Gonna be scratching my head over that one all day, I think.
Last week there was a dream in which I got to speak to my grandfather. Unlike the other dreams I've had about my grandparents, this one didn't freak me out. I don't know what we talked about, but I remember hugging him. It was extremely liberating, like it was the closure I'd been seeking.
This morning, by comparison, was very, very different.
The dream started at the church. Don't ask me why I was taking a shower at the church, because there's no facility at the church to let anyone take a shower. But I can only assume that's what happened, since I spent the entire dream running around in my oversized purple bath towel.
There was a demon after me. I ran all the way home from church (no mean feat in a towel!) to hide in my mother's bathroom, but he was coming through the door. He was glowing red and looked vaguely like Gary Oldman.
"What do you want?"
"YOUR SOUL."
"You can't have my soul, it belongs to God."
Cue roar of annoyance. And then I went into exorcism mode. I just kept saying, over and over, "In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to be gone." I was speaking in tongues at one point, but that's always what I was saying. And it was working -- he grew smaller and less powerful and more irritated, and eventually shrank down and fell out the window to assume the form of a dead fox lying in the neighbor's yard.
Gonna be scratching my head over that one all day, I think.