Dreams, dreams, dreams...
Apr. 9th, 2006 09:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootSo vivid and so weird, they're like being awake, hallucinations almost. They don't worry me as such, but they seem so intense! So I record them here, as I have done since I started this journal, but put them behind the cut cos I don't see them interesting anyone except me.
So first there was the one with a climbing frame/platform on which the kitties lay resting, but there were other cats there too; all black panthers, some small, some as big as dogs, some huge. My own knowledge of folklore recalls tales of these gorgeous beasts as soul-hunters but these were just big, fierce, languid but not to be taken lightly...they meant me no harm, but were capable of idly chewing my arm off. I get this a lot with beasts in dreams, most of which are friendly, but one or two attack in a sort of half-hearted way, without malice, almost like a reminder to me not to get lazy.
The second dream was more plotted, more a story; a house backing on to the sea, soldiers coming. A woman I recognised from long ago, someone I associate with an old acquaintance, an older woman who made him the man he isn't today. She started to explain about him, half heard words of sorrow and regret and an appeal for understanding, but I only half heard, or was too impatient to listen or something. She suddenly lifted her top and I saw her torso; she had undergone a mastectomy, one breast was missing, but she didn't look bad; not symmetrical but still firm and strong. I called her 'sprightly' and knew instantly I had chosen the wrong word; I meant life was still powerful in her frame. There was another woman, young, blonde,either in stages of early pregnancy or a little flabby. She was very in love with a light-eyed man. Three of us there, and three ways into the house; I discovered that all the doors were unlocked with no keys. We somehow held off snipers for a while, but I couldn't tell how, only that I was the warrior out of the three; the older woman was stalwart, the younger obedient. We had neither guns nor ammunition.
The man beloved by the blonde took us out to the back where the sea roared. He said he was going and told her it would be like in a certain book they were both supposed to have read. She took it to mean he would return, and went back to the house, faithful, believing. He in his turn smiled at me and said something like 'I always suspected she hadn't actually read that book!' By which he seemed to mean that the story had an entirely different ending to the one she assumed: He was going to go away and never come back. He showed me a path up the cliffs, an escape if I wanted it. I knew I could go, but it meant leaving the others and I could hear soldiers nearby. So I returned to the house cogitating, while they prepared a party, and the dream faded.
So first there was the one with a climbing frame/platform on which the kitties lay resting, but there were other cats there too; all black panthers, some small, some as big as dogs, some huge. My own knowledge of folklore recalls tales of these gorgeous beasts as soul-hunters but these were just big, fierce, languid but not to be taken lightly...they meant me no harm, but were capable of idly chewing my arm off. I get this a lot with beasts in dreams, most of which are friendly, but one or two attack in a sort of half-hearted way, without malice, almost like a reminder to me not to get lazy.
The second dream was more plotted, more a story; a house backing on to the sea, soldiers coming. A woman I recognised from long ago, someone I associate with an old acquaintance, an older woman who made him the man he isn't today. She started to explain about him, half heard words of sorrow and regret and an appeal for understanding, but I only half heard, or was too impatient to listen or something. She suddenly lifted her top and I saw her torso; she had undergone a mastectomy, one breast was missing, but she didn't look bad; not symmetrical but still firm and strong. I called her 'sprightly' and knew instantly I had chosen the wrong word; I meant life was still powerful in her frame. There was another woman, young, blonde,either in stages of early pregnancy or a little flabby. She was very in love with a light-eyed man. Three of us there, and three ways into the house; I discovered that all the doors were unlocked with no keys. We somehow held off snipers for a while, but I couldn't tell how, only that I was the warrior out of the three; the older woman was stalwart, the younger obedient. We had neither guns nor ammunition.
The man beloved by the blonde took us out to the back where the sea roared. He said he was going and told her it would be like in a certain book they were both supposed to have read. She took it to mean he would return, and went back to the house, faithful, believing. He in his turn smiled at me and said something like 'I always suspected she hadn't actually read that book!' By which he seemed to mean that the story had an entirely different ending to the one she assumed: He was going to go away and never come back. He showed me a path up the cliffs, an escape if I wanted it. I knew I could go, but it meant leaving the others and I could hear soldiers nearby. So I returned to the house cogitating, while they prepared a party, and the dream faded.
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no subject
Date: 2006-04-09 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-10 06:54 am (UTC)sans cheese or booze
is aye good news
Hope peaceful sleep finds you soon my dear.