Dreams

07Jan10

This post will be more weird than usual, but I’m out of practice so it’s better than nothing.

Something is wrong with my subconscious. Not much is bothering me that I can make any sense of. Normally, I never have nightmares. In fact I’ve sometimes prided myself in being nearly immune to nightmares–either I don’t remember my dreams, or my dreams are almost universally pleasant. Nice, right?

But the past couple of days when I sleep, or even nap, all I have is vivid nightmares. Strange images and situations always involving two or more of the following elements: some kind of horrible creatures, disease, human blood, darkness, decay or death. And strangely, when I wake up I don’t want to get out of bed so I can forget the nightmare. No motivation; I just want to go back to sleep. I’m also depressed and have headaches. Not much appetite either. Someone said “are you alright?” and I said yes (that was you, Kasie). I think that’s the first time I blatantly lied in a long time. It was just an automatic response, like most people do I guess, because I didn’t want to explain what I don’t understand. Because she would have asked why and I wouldn’t have had a good reason.

It’s very bizarre, but it’s only been in the last 48 hours or so. Hopefully things will return to normal soon.

But more importantly, amidst this, while I’m awake, I have a different image in my head. A more beautiful one, though I can’t articulate what’s beautiful about it. Maybe I’m just insane, but I want to believe it has some significance. In any case it won’t leave my head. It feels more like remembering than making something up.

It’s a field of white snow, and it’s snowing softly in big, round chunks. There’s a young boy there, perhaps 8 or so. Brown eyes and straight, dark hair. He’s wearing a wool coat a little too big for him and is missing one button. Boots and a black scarf. No hat. Serious expression on his face. In front of him is a smeared pile of ashes in the snow. Something was burned there, but it’s all gone now. He has soot on his little fingers. He is alone for the moment, but someone is nearby. There is no sound.

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Tags: dreams, ideas, nightmare