No pleas or stalling: You're on!
Desperately pulling on my costume over my clothes and with my pants halfway up the curtains open: and I disappoint everyone.
Dreams 11/13
Stage theatre production in a Victorian building hosted by my friends.
Swordfight between two men in black robes and red vestments. Of eastern origin. It is an ideological confrontation, a difference in philosophy. One man is killed, my grandfather. Some significance of antlers and my disrespect: laughing at their assembly. Emergency flight tickets home for the funeral, but I miss it having read my email too late.
I must fight the last man and we brutalize each other, but do not kill. Nunchaku to bludgeon. Still, when the fight is over and the man leaves we say "Shalom" to each other and part not as enemies, still at odds.
So many dogs of all breeds and sizes running loose in the hayfields with cows. The dogs must come in, there is a rabid cow in the field. I call their names and bring all the dogs in the house. Fifteen or so. Cats come in too, as if all animals are responding to my call.
I lament missing my flight and I order a coffee at a bed and breakfast in New Hampshire (Vermont? It's always snowing or has snowed in my dreams of Vermont.) There is some trick to making this special brew of coffee and I chat with the barista and owner. She reminds me a bit of S. at the general store in N. Montpelier.
"Hawaii," 1960s or 1970s.
I was someone else. Civilian working on a military base. The only reason I can think its the late 60s or 70s is the facial hair and clothes. Big mustaches, big glasses and sunglasses.
Emergency. Volcanic eruption. I or rather this man that I was, in the midst of chaos of evacuees walks towards the heat. Fires that I touch go out, and I remember it being very peaceful. People rush past me, some covered in ashes as I move towards the nascent volcano on the coast. Burning cloth and straw thatch wink out, the fires not so much extinguished as just gone.
As I approach the cone I feel afraid. Firefighters are hosing the landward side trying to harden the 'a'a flow and direct it out towards the ocean. I walk up the side of the mounding cone. My shoes melt, and I try to keep myself from sinking in the hot, hot rock as the sun is setting. That would be the end of me. The rock cools where I stand, still hot enough to burn, hot enough to turn the rubber of my shoes to goo, but cool enough to walk on. The sun is just about gone as I reach the summit, and the stars shine overhead. My heart is shaking, but the fires cool as I stand on the mount. The firetrucks have left now.
The next day I wander back to the base. People are celebrating. The firefighters and some of the military command are getting the accolades. I'm ash covered and tired, and I see some of my friends at the base, also scientists and civilians rushing over. They are surprised to see me alive since I had disappeared yesterday. One guy has me around the shoulders and asks someone to take a picture of us, saying that this could be 30 years from now. Bewildered I ask what he's talking about and he leads me to a mirror. My hair is streaked with grey and not from the ash, it has actually turned grey in many places from its normal dark brown.
(this is also where I can see that its not me in the dream, as I don't look like this guy, nor could I sport a mustache so full.)
Last part of the dream I stalk into the mess hall and make my way to the kitchen and I brush past indignant brass that's getting all the praise for their heroism. I pour myself a stiff drink.
The insider, the rebel. Oppressive totalitarian government. A city on the coast, built upon the ruins of former civilizations. Part of the city has become a prison. I am inside this prison with my family. In appearance, it is part Providence, part Mykonos, Greece... only there's technology enough to support Giant Robots. (too much anime)
The themes have been played before... resist the oppressive authority, secretly aid resistance groups, stealthily escape from the city, dramatically escape from the city.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thirty-Six_Dramatic_Situations
So, what is the meaning in my dreams? I haven't kept a dream journal since I filled my last one. I'm thinking I should remedy that.
