I haven't written here much, it's been a long time, but I saw a dream last night, that still clings in my memory, so I might as well write it down.I was taken hostage by a man with a shotgun. I remember him pointing at me with the gun and I feared he might kill me. He didn't kill me but he tortured me. At least it was an attempt to do so. He stabbed me twice with a thumbtack, but oddly enough it didn't hurt at all. I was expecting pain, but it never came. I just stared the thumbtack at my forearm and another little hole beneath it, where he had stabbed me before. There were few plastic, thin tubes that the thumbtack held into my arm and it was quite difficult to move with those devices. But I felt that I had to move, I had to even try to escape, so i kind of waved to the neighbours there, who somehow were just behind the windows. i signaled them to open the window so I could climb to the other side and be safe, but they opened a wrong one that I couldn't climb in, because the man could have seen it. I felt very frustrated and then the dream changed.I was at some kind of railwaystation, or a metro station, it was a big place underground, anyway. There were stairs that led to the streetlevel and on the stairs stood an old man. At first his face were covered, but the layers of clothing somehow disappeared from his face and revealed his expression. He looked angry and fearful, but I knew that his expression wasn't pointed at me, I was just a bystander. He looked at another girl who was like Natascha Kampusch and then I realized that the man had to be the one who held Natascha Kampusch hostage eight years ( even though he never really looked like that man at all and neither did the girl look like Natascha ), and there he was, guarding that girl so she couldn't escape.I just stood there, witnessing everything.Then I woke up.Weird, two hostage-dreams at once. One were I was involved and other were I was just a witness.
I had probably the worst zombie dream last night that I feel could've been suppressed had my boyfriend not been 2 1/2 hours away.
There were George Romero-esque zombies and they only came out at night. I was living in a run-down mansion with Professor Yap from CSUEB (I almost took Analysis with her), my dad, and a bunch of refugees (i.e. humans). The zombies had taken over most of the city, but during the daytime I relaxed by walking alongside the lake (don't ask which, it was just known as "the lake".) During one of my walks one day I happened upon Adrien Brody, all dressed in dark colors and looking like eyecandy. He and I apparently had had a thing going (in a past dream, perhaps?) but broke up due to Gregg being in my life, both in reality & the dream world. Anyway, we walk. We talk. Gregg is not in the immediate vicinity, so I am nervous after awhile. Mr. Brody tempts me. Says I need an older man. Part of me doesn't want to belive him, and the other part just wants to let things happen for the sake of lust, like I used to do. But I stop millimeters from his face because I don't want to break any more hearts due to silly, lustful decisions. We part. I return to the run-down mansion.
My father is living in one of the upstairs bedrooms that has its own kitchen. He is tired of all the moving going on due to the zombie action in the city. I know it is more than his age, it is his body that everyday feels the pain of routine. It sucks and it makes me depressed. Prof. Yap tells us that the zombies have taken over the upstairs part of the house, and we need to move everything we need and ourselves to the downstairs living room, which is fully furnished and which all of us can fit into. Everyone has moved in a matter of a few short hours. It is nearing sundown. Zombie activity has yet to commence. And my father has not stirred from his living space. I am pounding on the door telling him to get a move on, to bring food and a book and let's go! What is wrong? I plea.
"I'm tired," he says. His words hold so much weight.
I know that he's tired because I'm tired, too; but I still fight. Living and being able to live sure beats being stiff, or worse: one of them. I bust open the door and see him resting on his recliner. Ready. I will not take this for an answer.
It is getting darker outside and I'm scrambling to get his recently-bought food that will benefit everyone. Such large quantities of oranges and avacadoes was not purchased by a man who was "ready." He needed to be told a reason to keep fighting because deep down he wanted to fight.
I grabbed 2 grocery bags of avacadoes, 2 bags of oranges, and slung a bag of apples on my shoulder. I could hear them.
I found myself pleading frantically with my own father. I said, holding back my tears and frustration, I said, "Dad, I would rather see you die fighting than see you die to become one of them."
He grabbed a book and we ran downstairs. Around the corner from the foyer I saw a body coming back to life. Prof. Yap opened the foyer door and we leapt in. All the furniture was old and Victorian and upholstered in this crushed velvet material; in other words, not comfortable. I lay on the seafoam green short carpet, joined by my friend Kenny, or the skinny blond-haired equivalent. I wanted to cry, but couldn't. So I just closed my eyes, and let go. Sleep would be the best.
Sleep is such a queer concept when one is being invaded by zombies. You tend to ask yourself a lot, "Who will I be when I wake up? Will I be something else? Will I have the same memories? Will I remember the new ones? Will I ever dream again once commencing the eternal sleep?"
I awoke at 6 o'clock in the morning, and was very hungry. So I figured I'd walk to the grocery store. Halfway there, I noticed a large group of people gathered on the other side of the street, and crossed to see what was going on. The scene slowly changed into a ball park or arena, and the crowd was watching a mechanical fly – about the size of a small house – hover and dive over the park. They "ooh"ed and "ahh"ed. Its wings were made of glass, and didn't flap, so it was somehow propelled by jets that we couldn't see. It flew closer and closer, and the crowd became more excited. But I started to feel afraid.After a few more minutes, it exploded into many smaller mechanical flies, and the pieces fell to the ground. I couldn't tell if this was planned, or a horrible accident, but the crowd left in a hurry. As everyone dispersed, I walked around on the sidewalk, picking up the small mechanical flies, but they began to crumble into nuts, bolts, and bits of rock.
I dreamed that I was pregnant, and that I gave a birth to a baby on my own, without any help. The doctors were busy with another birth. I couldn't bother them, I waited my turn, and it just happened. The baby I gave birth to was deformed. He had large head, eyes that didn't mach each others, and he was pale, and he had white hair. He also spoke to me immediately after the birth.It was quite freaky.
I obviously had to sleep long, because I saw a dream about someone I used to know and cared a lot, and who I still randomly think. But I wasn't who I am, and she wasn't who she is, and world was so strange place. The door between us (our apartments, somehow we lived as wall-neighbors in the dream and shared the same balcony) kept opening and I kept closing it. Eventually I gave up, but it didn't change anything else. The door was open. No one spoke, and the atmosphere was so gloomy that it hurt.Lot's of glares and shame and sadness.It was somehow dreadfully melancholy dream, and we were older, ten years, than now.I woke up almost crying.(P.S. I called my brother & grandma, they're fine and were happy to hear of me.)
Few nights ago, I saw a dream that my grandmother from my mothers side had a stroke.Last night, I dreamed that she was dead. Several nights ago, I saw a dream where my brother died. What's wrong in my head? Why, now, I'm all the time scared of losing a family-member? Is this some kind of guilt? Should I call them, or see them, or something?This is very distressing.
I've never dreamed of having a baby before, but last night broke that record, too. I was sitting in our old livingroom that was in the house where we moved away when I was 16. I was sitting on old sofa that we had back then and I was nursing a baby. My baby. That little thing ( I think it was a she ) laid on my lap and she was so beautiful. I felt very confused, though. I kept thinking that the situation shouldn't be real, that I shouldn't have a baby. That she must have been someone elses. But then again I was thinking, if the baby were someone elses, how come I'm nursing her? How come my breasts are full of milk? Suddenly I heared my mom's voice from the kitchen and she announced, that she's going to be around about three months and she was going to help me with the baby.And so the dream ended and I woke up confused as hell.
Dreaming is weird for me. Either I don't see/remember almost any dreams at all, or I see vivid dreams loaded with symbolism many night on the row. This has continued for a few years now, I don't remember this kind of pattern from the time before moving to Helsinki. Nowadays the coming of dreams is almost always a mark of some big decision waiting to be made, or some shift in my worldview forming. Sometimes dreams almost walk me through the decision, sometimes I can't really understand what they are trying to tell me. But usually I enjoy these seasons of dreaming, because they make me feel connected to something deeper (even if it's just my subconscious mind) - even if they are brought forth by some bad shit going on in my life. At least they help me to do something to sort things out.I haven't really studied things considering dreaming, but I wonder if dreams work like this to other people too. Has dreams any deeper meaning for you, or are they just weird symbolic stories your mind cooks up for your enjoyment/annoyance? I think I could find some weird shit with google, but I think that at the moment, I'm more into real people's opinions. :)(Sorry for my English)
I put up a book-list on the info-page. Next community-quiz will be about web-pages that somehow handle the dreaming/sleeping- theme. It can be scientific news-board, or something completely different. If you know any, drop me a comment here or few. I'll leave two weeks of time to answer this. I don't know about prizes yet, but there'll be some.That's all, I try to keep these simple.
Only six this time, I originally thought about making some for prizes for the earlier quiz, but since no one really answered with a book, I'll give these to anyone who cares. :p Another quiz is perhaps coming up later this week. I dunno, if I have time. Feel free to take, credit if you wish, drop a comment if taking and all that jazz.