Tuesday, January 27, 2009

What's the subconscious trying to tell me?

Please tell me. I'm taking a quick break from the severe moralizing that I do to jot something down here. It's another dream I had (the first written one being here). I would want comments on this more than anything else, only because it's completely objective and other spins on it would be interesting.

Parental Advisory: This dream is Rated R for Graphic Violence and Disturbing Images

I'm somehow floating over the bathroom, I guess, as a ghost. I will call it "the" bathroom although I have no idea where I was or whose house I was in. The extreme despair/guilt that I'm about to describe myself feeling may indicate that it was mine.

At any rate, a small, friendly kitten is in the bathtub, hunched together near the drain, eyes wide open and hissing to the outside of the tub where a light brown dog is. The dog jumps in and they fight for two seconds. This whole thing is generally a blur, but at some point the dog sinks his teeth into the kitten's body. The next thing I know, the dog has jumped back out of the tub, pacing around as if he's just looking for a spot to sit down and pass the day in, and the kitten has become a loose collection of some intestines, a piece of his backbone sticking out, one of his feet turned inward towards what used to be his body, the tail mysteriously gone and his semi-disconnected head showing a face of lowered eyes and an agape mouth, as if he was using his last bit of energy to howl for help.

Now.....I love cats. I love dogs. I love pretty much all animals except poisonous ones and skunks. I also love those dishes best served cold and could care less about natural selection. So, at this point, after I've become a full, embodied person and have landed on the bathrug in front of the sink, it's just a matter of deciding whether I'm going to use a black, iron pan or a sledgehammer to knock the dog's skull back through his rib cage and out of his ass. But this is secondary. I kneel next to the bathtub and look, and my heart is heavier than two Lincoln Navigators piled on top of each other with 5 passengers in them each, all of which weigh over 450 lbs. I cannot, for the life of me, believe that I let this happen. My throat has a knot in it, my stomach is quivering, and my face is soaked with warm tears and mucus, but this is all drowned out from me repeatedly saying "what....what the....awww, come....." and looking all over the place. Even breathing becomes something of a task and the amount of guilt and grief I feel is a limit that only a certain supernatural being can carry without definitely committing suicide.

Now for some reason, my subconscious switches to the image of dawn. The sun is just peeking up over some hillside forest, the tiny delineations of shine poking away at a looming steel grey morning. I think, since this picture came up, my conscious brain decided to tell me that I was in a cabin in a clearing on the side of a mountain.

There's notably thin smoke billowing from the chimney, although I don't remember any lit fireplaces. I do however, remember that I now look like Robbie Coltrane (Rubeus Hagrid in the Harry Potter films) dressed like Paul Bunyan. I know it's me because my consciousness is within this body (I think, therefore I......am?). There is also another cat.

At the point that I come into the dream, the cat kitten has already been gravely injured. It appears that a ravenous claw has torn through its body and it's bleeding profusely. He's/She's laying on it's side, calling to me to pay attention to the traumatizing affliction, and I come over with a towel and wrap the kitten up in it, putting pressure on the wound. Standing there, breathing warm, misty breath into the chilly air of the dark, unlit cabin with the kitten resting on my arm and the feeling that death is inevitable for it, I pick up my sawed-off shotgun and head outside resolutely. Of course, the gun is not for the kitten.

See, I noted the point at which I came into the narrative of the dream because for some reason I already knew that this blemish-to-other-humans/moral tragedy of the kitten was committed by none other than a pack of wolves......who were circling and still waiting for something or other when I stepped outside. I look at them, and they, tongues hanging, corners of their eyes curled up in malevolent intent and staring with hungry countenances, studied me. I stood for a moment, went back inside to gently place the kitten on the suede couch, and returned to the circle of predators.

Now.....I love cats. I love dogs. I love pretty much all animals except poisonous ones and skunks. I also love those dishes best served cold and could care less about natural selection. So, at this point, I walk to the center of their circle and say something along these lines to them. I throw forth the double barrel of my firearm, making sure that fresh, explosive shells full of buck are in each one of them. I cock it back into place, and I remember saying "You gotta pay." Time for attack.

For some reason, I'm now a boxer dressed precisely as Mr. Stallone was during his character's training in what was probably the only good film he's ever done.

Timing.
The wolves are quickening their pace around me.
When one leaps, I have to pugilistically assault the mid-section.
When it leaps.
I got my fists up, doing my own sidesteps and preparing myself.
Streams of warm, wispy breath shooting in lines out of my nostril, spanish bull style.
One begins coming towards me.
It runs.
Then leaps!

I sidestep right on time and deliver a right-hook to the ribcage that Ali himself would be proud to call me son for. The wolf tumbles on the floor and rolls, wiggling itself around furiously to regain footing. Whilst looking at him, a wolf decides to run up from behind and assault me. No sweat. I turn on my pivot foot and deliver a sweet roundhouse kick to his neck. Another comes. As it jumps on me, I grab his paws, place my foot on his stomach and roll backwards on the ground, leg throwing him right down the hillside. When I get up from the ground I'm Robbie Coltrane/Paul Bunyan again, replete with sawed-off shotgun.

The wolves are now scrambling all over the place, but my intuition tells me that there is one that is planning to run right past me, into my cabin and right to that suede couch for a quick snack. It's one that's sitting across from me, prepping itself to make the dash as soon as I turn around. But how will it run when..........BANG! The explosion of the buck echoes all up and down the mountain, causing a flock of crows to fly out of a nearby fir trees and a deer licking at a pond somewhere to look up.

I don't kill him, but I definitely put one arm out of service. The rest of the pack have scattered away.

As I slowly walk over to him with my amiable sawed-off rested upon my shoulder, I kneel down and look him, laying on his side and flopping his hanging-by-a-bone paw around in pain, whining and looking at me with sad eyes of regret. "I don't care how you guys work around here...." is what I remember saying, before I woke up and immediately began to type this post.

9 comments:

  1. Interesting.

    Usually when one dreams of wolves it has to do with survival, betrayal and revealed secrets. If the wolf/wolves are aggressive.

    Cats or kittens usually indicate similar. Some form of deceit or something like that.

    bathrooms means shame or a need to let go of some burden.

    But, thats if you believe in that kind of stuff.

    I basically think it has to do with your job. I will probably be back with something else in a minute, my computer is being a bitch.

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  2. This Brazen TeacherJanuary 27, 2009 at 9:03 PM

    Take this for what you will, but I found it via Google:

    Cats are associated with mystery, perhaps because their behavior is so aloof and difficult to interpret. As mysterious, aloof creatures, cats symbolize the intuition, and when they appear in dreams they may be asking us to use our intuition more, to rely on our gut feelings and instinct.

    To kill a wolf, denotes that you will defeat sly enemies who seek to overshadow you with disgrace. To hear the howl of a wolf, discovers to you a secret alliance to defeat you in honest competition.

    Hm?

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  3. In Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, but there's this scene where a horse that is tired can't pull the carriage, but instead of stopping, more and more people get into the carriage and they beat the horse to death using an iron rod. I was reminded of it when I read this post, but I don't know what the correlation really is. I think it has something to do with the helplessness of animals when humans don't come to their aid. I think u feel a strong urge to reach out to more unfortunate people but for some reason, cannot. :)

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  4. My interpretation although I'm not an expert but more of an empathic psychic.
    You are trying to protect some personal, intimate possible sexual information or episode from the prying,inquiring, pack of friends possible relatives or somebody close to you.
    Don't get mad at me again. I really value your opinions.
    Love, peace and happiness!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Whew... I don't think you could ever take on that much symbolism at once (if you believe in that type of thing!)-- however, considering the first images, which are pretty intense, and seemingly so contradictory to the essence of you, I would say there is some guilt simmering under the surface!

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  6. You disappear without a trace for a while and I thought that I might have said something stupid – I have this amazing quality of rubbing people the wrong way :)
    I am happy to hear that you are OK with me, as like I said, I really value your opinion.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Hmmm.... (and I write this before I read anyone else's comments) I am probably way off -- but I think you're looking for change. Maybe in a personal way (job change) or much broader societal way (Obama and USA) ... but you want change.

    (Death represents transformation).

    I also sense you might want some justice... not sure how or why -- but you're needing to right some kind of wrong.

    OR - you're very creative, and you're going to use this in a book, that's all.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Don't Feed The PixiesJanuary 30, 2009 at 7:19 AM

    I think you have to be careful about how much symbolism you read into dreams - there's so much conflicting theory and the honest truth is that no one really knows.

    Your brain filters information: we don't know exactly how it processes the things it sees and is thinking.

    Having said that my feeling was that the recurring image was conflict - some sort of personal turmoil? There may be things you are trying to approach but don't really know how to deal with or what to do with.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Depression is not only a serious illness but the most common type of mental illness. It is the result of negative and incorrect thinking patterns causing mood disturbances, which not only impair a person's daily life but also lead to a host of other health problems. Anxiety is an emotional state where you feel frightened, worried and confused relating to a perceived or actual threat. http://www.buy-xanax-online-now.com

    ReplyDelete

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