| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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It starts in a room lined with bunk beds. There are young women in long white nightgowns in the beds, and I am their sister. They are all sick and/or dead and I have to nurse the sick ones and lay the dead ones out in their beds to prepare for their funerals. The next thing I know, I'm walking down this hallway in what reminds me of a French palace. There are tapestries and gilded mirrors and wood paneling on all the walls. As I pass one of the mirrors, I see I am a very small young woman with a face that is not my own, and I'm in a long black dress that reminds me of an antique nun's habit. I'm walking down the hall, looking into the open rooms, and I look into one room that resembles a locker room or a large bathroom. I remember that many years ago dozens of children were gassed to death in there and that the room was especially designed for that purpose...it has no ventilation. I continue walking until I reach a large room that is at the end of the corridor. As I go into the room, I see that at the right is an amphitheater-type thing. (The room's proportions are all out of whack.) The rest of the room is lined with gold curtains, and there are guards at intervals along the walls. There is a Mass going on in the amphitheater, but instead of the altar being above the congregation, the people are seated in the amphitheater rows and the altar is at the bottom. Three priests are officiating, and the two on each ends are in black robes and the one in the middle is in gold. He is a bishop. I suddenly feel off-balance, and I stumble into the corner of the room and start saying Hail Marys. I do this for a while, and then I go and sit among the congregation. The Mass is in a different form than the usual, and at the end of the service, people start crossing themselves. But they do it very strangely...with both hands, and they keep standing up and sitting down over and over while they're crossing themselves. I don't know how to do this, so I look at the bishop for guidance. I start leaving the room, and I get the feeling that many wealthy young women are following me. I suddenly become terrified -- they can't see me here! So I start running down the hallway from which I came, only now all the doors to the rooms are shut. I pull at all the doorknobs frantically, trying to find a door that's unlocked so I can go and hide in the room. I come upon a room that is lined with gold curtains, and I remember that behind the curtains is a secret doorway into another room. I enter that room and I find that it is a luxurious bedroom. I see a hallway branching off from this bedroom and remember that the hallway leads to a crown jewelry exhibit. I can hear footsteps behind me, and I dive under a small couch to hide. From my position, I can see into a large mirror, and I see the reflection of a maid running away. I realize that she has seen me and is going to tell someone that she's found me. Within seconds, the bishop appears. It is his bedroom. He tells me to stand up, and I do, knocking over the couch in the process. He walks over to the bed and tells me to come to him. He is very old and bald. He reminds me of a walrus. There are deep folds in his cheeks and jowls. His eyes are black and have dark shadows underneath them. I don't want to come to him but he insists. I moan, "noooo," but I walk over to the bed anyway. I pick up one of the pillows and lightly touch it to his face. When I take the pillow away, I see that his face is different somehow. I realize he is in disguise. I touch the pillow to his face again, and when I take it away he has been transformed. Now he is a young man, with black hair and a black goatee, and he is dressed all in black. His eyes are the same, though. At this point I wake up. |
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Yeah, J, I thought he might have been Satan, too. He was really, really creepy and gross. Even when he was the young guy. |
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The guy from Mule (PW Long) has another band that is very similar, called Reelfoot. But their stuff is hard to find, because sometimes it's put under R for Reelfoot, sometimes it's under L for Long and sometimes it's under P for PW. But they're just as good as Mule, so if you find their albums, buy them. |
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http://sxws.com/VHE LL/ |
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you were warned |
And if this is the place you were thinking of, their "enter" link doesn't work, either. |
LLF I personally find their interpretation of the Bible as plausible as anyone else's. |
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I began to drift toward the foot of my bed, as though something invisible were pulling me downward, covers and all. I sat up and tried to hang onto where I was, but the force was irresistible. I did not have the sensation of hands around my ankles but one of being caught in a magnetic field or tractor beam. I could still hear the voices singing in Latin (the title of this hymn began with "Te" and ended with "-orum"), and I tried to hang onto the sound as though I were insisting that this was a good experience, that these were angels singing, etc. But as I was pulled lower and lower toward the edge of the bed, I couldn't escape the realization that this was not from good/from God. Something was trying to deceive me, and I was collaborating with it, but I couldn't keep myself from recognizing the truth. I began to call for my father, hoping that my calls would wake him up and he would come to my room to help me, but my voice was oddly muffled. I knew I wasn't calling loud enough for him to hear me, so I tried to bang on the wall with my elbow, but my blows were very weak. This went on for long minutes, shouting, "Papa! Papa!" and trying to bang loudly on the wall to no avail. During the day yesterday, I had been thinking of some of the recurrent themes of my dreams, and I had noted the dreams I've had of invisible beings trying to pluck my covers off while I hang onto them and pretend I don't notice anything wrong. That is another common element -- something or someone presents as helpful/benign, and I can see through the facade but have to feign innocence or else it will attack me. I wish there were someone knowledgeable about mysticism that I could ask about these dreams. If I were still devout, I would say that the invisible beings are demons attacking me in my sleep, but perhaps they are representations of some psychic conflict or trauma, and deciphering that code would be equally interesting or enlightening. |
i don't even want to write this, but the first thought i had was that you are subconsciously trying to deal with deeply repressed incident(s) of childhood (sexual?) abuse. |
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The "pod people" theme (normal on the outside, evil on the inside, and I can't reveal that I know) probably has to do with a secret I learned about my father when I was a teenager. I've dealt with that, though, so it's unclear to me why my dreams keep returning to it. The invisible beings also remain inexplicable. |
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i never even understood it in terms as vagues as that until i met a woman whom i could see had the same problem. at least all of you dream. i almost never dream unless i'm choking. |
My dreams are gibberish. Sometimes they seem to have some sort of faux meaning, but never anything I can make sense of. One recent such dream involved the unexplained but necessary need for me to be locked in a well-furnished but windowless apartment for one full year all alone. For science. I would have any amenities and entertainment I needed, but no contact with the outside world. I didn't want to do it, but had resigned myself to the need, and was trying to explain it to Jess, but didn't understand it myself. I've also been dreaming about ice cream lately. I just don't have any good pain or trauma to draw from. |
this dream may or may not be about anything repressed or bad just something buried in the unconsciousness trying to find its way to your consciousness, something tugging at you needing atention. it could be anything really |
Your description of pretending not to notice reminded me of a scene in particular from that book in which a boy was trying to pretend his soul wasn't being eaten.That's really cool. I barely remember that book. (Say, maybe that's my repressed memory.) The Jungian approach would be interesting, These invisible beings could be my Shadow. Freud maintained that every character in your dreams is a facet of yourself. My Shadow is threatening to overwhelm me and I'm calling to my superego for help. Or something. |