Yes, so my journal was not nearby when I awoke, and I didn't feel like getting out of my nice warm bed (you know how that is), so I decided to grab my camera off my nightstand and record my dream before I forgot it.
Here is more or less the result of this recording session (I wish I could just attach an audio file!):
I have it my head that I know how I'm going to die... or at least, like in the game Clue that I used to play as a kid, I knew what the murder weapon would be. The instrument of my death is going to be a Wizard of Oz pen. You know, it's one of those pens that you tilt one way, and something floats across the surface of the pen because there's water inside this tube thing. So yeah, the particular scene in this situation was munchkins or something skipping down the yellow brick road. Of course, this bit of information was something I had just always known and it seemed rather ridiculous, so I just sort of never thought about it. Really though, knowing what weapon will kill you won't exactly stop it from happening anyway, right? Yeah, so that is just some background information for you. It doesn't factor into the dream here... not yet anyway.
So yeah, it so happened that I was at home with my family in Moncks Corner. It was strange because I was at least a bit older than I am now, but my brother seemed to be younger. (I guess that's because I feel like I've 'changed' a lot since I've been here in Denmark... or something is different. I'm not sure if I have 'changed' or if I have just become more myself... but that's the subject of another post. perhaps something I will post on my other blog. Then of course, my brother was probably younger because that's how I rememer him best since I haven't lived at home for 4 years now.)
Yep, so my dad found this stray dog, so we took it in. A few days later, we learned that it belonged to this family, so they came to pick it up. So there's this happy little reunion going on in the front of the house, out in the yard. Everyone in the family is very excited about getting their dog back, etc, and I am just sort of standing off to the side and observing their happiness.
Then all of the sudden and without warning, we all hear this little clicking noise... it's the sound a gun makes before you shoot it. I'm not sure what it's called, but you know what I mean. It's one of those gun noises that you just don't want to hear, so we all look towards the house, and there's this huge man standing there to the side of our front door (which is ajar). The man is wearing camoflage and is just standing there calmly with a rifle sort of in the verticle resting position, but the funny thing is, the noise didn't come from this man. Then we see through a window to the house (actually the window to my old bedroom--the one I moved out of when I was 14), and there is another guy in there. This guy is going through my belongings in a hasty manner (because it was my bedroom in the dream even though it currently isn't in real life). This second guy was carrying a pistol, and it was from that gun that we heard the ominous click.
Now, it's at this point that we start to freak out--or I in particular start to freak out because I know my brother and some of his friends are in the house, and there are just people everywhere, you know? So I say to my mom, quietly, "Mom, you have to call the police. You have to do something. This guy has a gun!" But my mom just sort of stands there, paralyzed. She just mutters something like, "ummm I don't know. I don't know what to do," and she has this strange distant look in her eyes. So it's at this point that I decide to take charge. Now, if you know me well, you will know that I am not good with keeping up with my cell phone. My family, of course is much worse... ie no one has a cell phone but me, and I don't happen to have mine on me, so I set off across the yard to the neighbor's house to call the police since I obviously don't want to try crossing army-fatigues-man.
It's when I'm about half way to the neighbor's house that I hear a commotion, and I turn in time to see the second guy (the one with the pistol) running out of the door to our house. He is carrying a few things that he has stolen from my room, but it is quite a strange collection he has, really. The most rememberable thing he had was the sheet off my bed because it sort of billowed behind him as he ran. So yeah, I'm thinking, ok good. The guy is leaving, he hasn't hurt anyone, and he hasn't really stolen too much. We can call the police, and they can come and investigate and look for finger prints or whatever. But then he stops a little ways off and just sort of hesitates, and I see my mother start to walk towards him, and I think, oh no. He is going to hurt my mother.
So I start to walk over towards them, too, to try to talk some sense into my mom and get her out of the situation. Then, when I'm about five paces away, I hear the guy say to my mom, "Hey all I need is one thing. Do you have one those glippen pens?" And since I had no idea what a 'glippen' pen was, I just sort of stood there, contemplating what the heck he was talking about. But then, my mom, always eager to help, starts to pull something out of her pocket. I think it was right at this moment, that I realized what was going to happen, so I turn around and just start sprinting away from the scene. Presumably, my mother hands the guy the pen, and the guy starts chasing me. I can hear his footsteps pounding on the asphalt behind me. and I wonder, oh my gosh. Is this going to hurt? Am I going to feel this? and before I have much time to think about it, I just sort of feel this strange warmth that's sort of coming from the area of my neck.
and then I woke up.
Yes, as you might have guessed, I had been stabbed in the neck by a Wizard of Oz pen.
So have you heard that claim that if you die in your dream, you die in real life? I am living proof that that is untrue.
I think there are many interesting implications in this dream. I think that this entry is long enough though, so I might add some theories in a comment.
3 comments:
It's important to note all the imagery associated with childhood--ie the Wizard of Oz theme, the fact that the guy was going through my old bedroom from when I was a kid, etc.
Then of course, there's the role my mom plays. My mom had been carying around my murder weapon in her pocket. Most obviously, she handed over the murder weapon to the man, thus she fascillitated my death. But there's more to it than that of course. The thing is, she meant well. She had no idea what the pen meant and that it would end up killing me. She was trying to appease the theif and get him to go away. She was trying to protect me, but she actually ended up killing me despite her good intentions.
My mother has been struggling with the fact that I am growing up and we are growing more distant. I typically didn't do a good job keeping her posted on my life when I was a teenager, and perhaps less so now that I don't live at home, so I have noticed that my mom seems to know me less and less, which is strange. It's like she doesn't know what I like anymore or who I am. Christams is always horribly depressing because the presents she buys me are never things that I want. The sad thing is, my mom thinks that I will love the things she buys me... but the truth is, it's as if she is still shopping for my 13 year old self. I'm not really so obsessed with The Wizard of Oz anymore, for instance, but buying me a Wizard of Oz pen is something she would do.
ugh. Sorry to put you through all this. That's why I wrote it in a comment. It's kind of too personal to just put it out there in the open, and I figure no one reads the comments anyway.
I should mention that much of this interpretation was proposed by my friend Amelia who had previously heard me recount the Christmas experiences, etc.
That's quite a technical analysis. But do dreams really mean what you think they mean? I mean, some people do say that it is basically your brain making sense of the world around you in a manner that your brain can accept. But then again, my dreams usually involve me in a science fiction battlefield it seems like, so what does that say about me? =p
Ever had dreams where you're just an observer, looking over the entire story from multiple viewpoints? Somewhat like reading a book? I find those to be very entertaining and interesting.
Yeah. I think the interesting thing in this case is that most of the interpretation was revealed to me by a friend. I'm not sure how much of that I would have thought of on my own.
That's why I think it can sometimes be helpful to share your dreams with someone who knows you well.
Although... I think that interpretting them yourself is also important because how you chose to interpret them can reveal a lot about you--what you think is on your mind, or what you WANT to think you are dreaming about.
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