Dreams 1/11/09
I only have disjointed image-moments.
Everyone is dressed in old European garb, like the dream I had where a cat rabbit monster ate a baby. Only instead of being sun-bleached, everything is dark and faded and dusty. They live in a tiny, ramshackle village with gothic architectural themes.
Yet somehow, parallel to all of this, mirror-world style, there is an endless, twisting laboratory of coiled cables the size of tree-trunks and twisting stone and dripping water. The center seems to be the grim castle on the village's horizon. Five of the villagers, one of whom is being played by Hillary Milton, I am fairly certain, are aware of the laboratory.
I am not from the village, or else I am an amnesiac. I am somehow complicit in the development of this laboratory dimension, even though it is older than the village. The village is a component of its systems. Furthermore, I am somehow responsible for the monster we have trapped in the well-room.
We have sealed the well-room off from the laboratory with a big pressurized vault-door. There is a round window of reinforced glass through which we can peer inside. The well itself is a glowing pool in the center of the floor. The monster is busy macerating the corpse of the sixth villager.
The monster is like a red, skinless gorilla that has been raised on steroids. Its head, though, is impossible to look at, as if our mortal brains are blotting out the image. Its forearms distend into toothed weapon-claws. We have no idea how to kill it before it breaks back into the village. We have tried to convince the villagers to evacuate but we must appear so wild and hysterical that they have shut their doors to us.
Meanwhile, I am wandering the laboratory, trying to guess at the function of various rooms and machines. The answers always seem close to the surface of my mind but I cannot quite pin them down.
When I return to the window, it is my shift to watch the monster, but the villagers are gone, and so is the monster. Panicked, I spin the wheel that unseals the door and step inside, looking at all angles, in case it drops down on me from above the door. Realizing it must have escaped through the well, I take a deep breath, and dive into the glowing pool. It burns a little. This part of the dream ended here.
I will come back to the other dream parts if I can remember them enough to mention.
Everyone is dressed in old European garb, like the dream I had where a cat rabbit monster ate a baby. Only instead of being sun-bleached, everything is dark and faded and dusty. They live in a tiny, ramshackle village with gothic architectural themes.
Yet somehow, parallel to all of this, mirror-world style, there is an endless, twisting laboratory of coiled cables the size of tree-trunks and twisting stone and dripping water. The center seems to be the grim castle on the village's horizon. Five of the villagers, one of whom is being played by Hillary Milton, I am fairly certain, are aware of the laboratory.
I am not from the village, or else I am an amnesiac. I am somehow complicit in the development of this laboratory dimension, even though it is older than the village. The village is a component of its systems. Furthermore, I am somehow responsible for the monster we have trapped in the well-room.
We have sealed the well-room off from the laboratory with a big pressurized vault-door. There is a round window of reinforced glass through which we can peer inside. The well itself is a glowing pool in the center of the floor. The monster is busy macerating the corpse of the sixth villager.
The monster is like a red, skinless gorilla that has been raised on steroids. Its head, though, is impossible to look at, as if our mortal brains are blotting out the image. Its forearms distend into toothed weapon-claws. We have no idea how to kill it before it breaks back into the village. We have tried to convince the villagers to evacuate but we must appear so wild and hysterical that they have shut their doors to us.
Meanwhile, I am wandering the laboratory, trying to guess at the function of various rooms and machines. The answers always seem close to the surface of my mind but I cannot quite pin them down.
When I return to the window, it is my shift to watch the monster, but the villagers are gone, and so is the monster. Panicked, I spin the wheel that unseals the door and step inside, looking at all angles, in case it drops down on me from above the door. Realizing it must have escaped through the well, I take a deep breath, and dive into the glowing pool. It burns a little. This part of the dream ended here.
I will come back to the other dream parts if I can remember them enough to mention.