(0) Dreams: Nov 26 2008

Twin Sisters

I’m in a middle of a house, it feels like it’s our house, after a party or a gathering of some sort.  In the distance is the living room, a wooden dinner table and a brown like sofa with a carpet on the floor.  The floor feels wooden.  A pair of human like beings are here, their faces are flat on one side as if they were stuck together, no one can seem them yet.

They crawl out from under the sofa, and come together stuck at their right cheeks.  Their faces are disfigured and uneven, square like with molten features somehow.  Black hair, disheveled clothes, skin glistening like a burn victim some time, and normal pale another time.

They keep stuck together because he (their victim) cannot see them until they come apart, suddenly they do and leap at him under the couch and tear him apart.  They feed on him though I do not see this, only a hazy image of twisting legs in pain.

I’m next, and I’m in the kitchen.  It’s brighter here, white walls with pale blue tiles on the walls perhaps.  An impression of clean white kitchen sink and me kneeling before the cupboard underneath.  The sisters are above and behind me, they are carring a giant ribcage, wet and picked clean of meat.  It’s slimey in an organic way.  I want to protect myself but know there is no point, so I make it easier for them and crank my head back so they can hit it with the torso easier.

A hammer in my hand I’m smashing the decayed torso apart into pieces, sense of freedom, relief, fear turned into wrathfullness.

I wake up tingling with the memory of the dream.

Dog Riding

It’s summer, hot and pleasant.  I’m off to visit my house or friend and I’m on a large brown short haired dog.  We depart on the trip and I think how heavy I must be on the poor things back.  It gets out from under me and regretting the loss of control of my mount we go to the yard to drink from the fountain.  Smell of summer in the air mixed with cool scent of water in warm dusty air of an automotive backyard?

Don Quixote Must Die!

I’m somewhere in  middle of a snow watching someone ride forth with another figure on a funny walking donkey-horse behind him.  I know it’s Don Quixote and I’m jealous of them having so much fun.  I have a giant pole-stick in my hand and I leap using it after the pair through the snow.

I follow them around a giant grey looking building to my left through the snow, using the leaping pole to jump over the snow.  We come around the corner into a warm summer air, green grass and flowers.

A fence is behind me, and Don Quixote on his funky donkey-horse ahead of me.  I’m going to kill him!  He hollers a challenge and shoots an arrow into the fence beside me.  On it are words of challenge, and it struck the fence hard and strong.  I become afraid because he seems like a fearsome warrior if he could shoot like that.

I’ve made a decision however, and I have to stick with it.  I consider throwing my pole like a pear to take his head off, but instead I jump-fly past him and wack him side ways across the head like with a broom.  This seems funny and ridiculous at the same time, and the dream begins to break up.  I consider that I should have stuck his spear into the ground as he charged me, and the dream shifts to his point of view as he does it.

I wake up.