My dream....
It's hard taking care of fifteen-billion posting communities. Sometimes I feel like I treat livejournal like a red-headed stepchild. Oh well.
So last night I had this dream. And its weird. I've come to believe that dreams are merely a spattering of concious and subconcious thoughts and feelings thrown together, but I still like the way they play out.
So this dream. I'm in Alaska, and I think its the past, like 19th century or early 20th century, and there is some kind of conflict. And there is a family that has two dog sleds that run on their own power somehow, but they also have a few dogs that ride on top of the sled. The family seems to be members of Michael's family, but Michael isn't there, and they are all in a hurry to leave this Alaskan town. A friend of mine, Friend C is also there on this trip and we are getting ready to leave.
Before we leave, Friend R walks by leaving a trail of blood because his heel and ankle is torn or shot off. I say "oh my god, are you ok? why are you walking? We should carry you to the hospital tent" (its in a tent apparently) and he says "no no, I'm fine and capable of walking there myself. You just go."
So we go a little ways when we reach these cliffs or mountains or whatever, but they look more like giant pieces of plywood painted gray, like sets of a play, and they are set up like a maze (kinda like the purple maze at crossroads village for halloween, but bigger, taller, and gray). And suddenly pouring out from behind them are, no lie, confederate soldiers throwing bombs and grenades and yelling "die you damn yankee bastards." (obviously it gets a little trippy here) and I remember thinking that these people shooting and bombing us were just pretending to be soldiers, but people were definitely dying, and we didn't have any weapons or place to hide, and everyone scattered leaving me alone. But every time someone would shoot me or a grenade would blow, I would like... get another life... like a video game.
But as soon as I realized this was happening, some soldier threw a grenade and shrapnal hit me, and then he shot me like ten times in the face and shoulder and I thought, well its ok, I'm going to start over in a minute, so I won't feel the pain, or I won't die. But I didn't start over. I just lay there shot and bloody, but concious. And suddenly the warfare stopped and Friend C came over and made sure I was ok, and my face was stuck to my shoulder. When I tried to pick up my head, it became unstuck and I screamed and screamed and said how I needed to go back to town, but Friend C said we should keep going, but I was scared because I would slow them down and I was seriously injured on the left side of my face and body. You know... from the bullet holes and shrapnal, so I walked back to town alone while Friend C and the rest of the survivors travelled onward.
So I limped and crawled back to town and found myself in the hospital tent, and as they walked me through, I looked through the shadows for Friend R, since it had been about three days since I saw him last and figured he would be still there but awake. I also was ashamed that the left side of my face and body was hamburger and I wanted to make sure whoever saw me didn't see the bad side right away. I saw men lying in beds, sitting up playing cards, and all that, but I couldn't see Friend R. I at least thought he would see me and yell out, but nope. So I asked the person (he or she was another friend from high school, but I can't remember who) with me what happened to him. "Oh he didn't make it" They said, and I started freaking out. "He was fine, just bloody when I saw him. How long ago did he die?" And the person answered, "About an hour after he showed up here. He just kept saying he was cold."
So some other stuff happened that I can't remember, but I remember feeling guilty that Friend R had died, and saying that I shouldn't have left and that if I would have stayed behind and made sure he had gotten to the hospital and was fine, he wouldn't be dead. Eventually I saw Friend R lying dead in a bed, and I kept crying and saying, "you can't be dead you can't be dead, you have to wake up," and suddenly he opened his eyes.
That was the main part of the dream. After that, it just got a little more trippy.
So last night I had this dream. And its weird. I've come to believe that dreams are merely a spattering of concious and subconcious thoughts and feelings thrown together, but I still like the way they play out.
So this dream. I'm in Alaska, and I think its the past, like 19th century or early 20th century, and there is some kind of conflict. And there is a family that has two dog sleds that run on their own power somehow, but they also have a few dogs that ride on top of the sled. The family seems to be members of Michael's family, but Michael isn't there, and they are all in a hurry to leave this Alaskan town. A friend of mine, Friend C is also there on this trip and we are getting ready to leave.
Before we leave, Friend R walks by leaving a trail of blood because his heel and ankle is torn or shot off. I say "oh my god, are you ok? why are you walking? We should carry you to the hospital tent" (its in a tent apparently) and he says "no no, I'm fine and capable of walking there myself. You just go."
So we go a little ways when we reach these cliffs or mountains or whatever, but they look more like giant pieces of plywood painted gray, like sets of a play, and they are set up like a maze (kinda like the purple maze at crossroads village for halloween, but bigger, taller, and gray). And suddenly pouring out from behind them are, no lie, confederate soldiers throwing bombs and grenades and yelling "die you damn yankee bastards." (obviously it gets a little trippy here) and I remember thinking that these people shooting and bombing us were just pretending to be soldiers, but people were definitely dying, and we didn't have any weapons or place to hide, and everyone scattered leaving me alone. But every time someone would shoot me or a grenade would blow, I would like... get another life... like a video game.
But as soon as I realized this was happening, some soldier threw a grenade and shrapnal hit me, and then he shot me like ten times in the face and shoulder and I thought, well its ok, I'm going to start over in a minute, so I won't feel the pain, or I won't die. But I didn't start over. I just lay there shot and bloody, but concious. And suddenly the warfare stopped and Friend C came over and made sure I was ok, and my face was stuck to my shoulder. When I tried to pick up my head, it became unstuck and I screamed and screamed and said how I needed to go back to town, but Friend C said we should keep going, but I was scared because I would slow them down and I was seriously injured on the left side of my face and body. You know... from the bullet holes and shrapnal, so I walked back to town alone while Friend C and the rest of the survivors travelled onward.
So I limped and crawled back to town and found myself in the hospital tent, and as they walked me through, I looked through the shadows for Friend R, since it had been about three days since I saw him last and figured he would be still there but awake. I also was ashamed that the left side of my face and body was hamburger and I wanted to make sure whoever saw me didn't see the bad side right away. I saw men lying in beds, sitting up playing cards, and all that, but I couldn't see Friend R. I at least thought he would see me and yell out, but nope. So I asked the person (he or she was another friend from high school, but I can't remember who) with me what happened to him. "Oh he didn't make it" They said, and I started freaking out. "He was fine, just bloody when I saw him. How long ago did he die?" And the person answered, "About an hour after he showed up here. He just kept saying he was cold."
So some other stuff happened that I can't remember, but I remember feeling guilty that Friend R had died, and saying that I shouldn't have left and that if I would have stayed behind and made sure he had gotten to the hospital and was fine, he wouldn't be dead. Eventually I saw Friend R lying dead in a bed, and I kept crying and saying, "you can't be dead you can't be dead, you have to wake up," and suddenly he opened his eyes.
That was the main part of the dream. After that, it just got a little more trippy.