The beginning of last's night's dream was hazy, and I'm really kicking myself for that. If people could just stick a camera in my head at night and hit 'record,' there would be a grand series of fantastic horror movies.
Really violent ones.
Last night I was in a nice little happy house, out in the country. I should have written this part down when I woke up, but for some reason we were all trapped there. I think we were on an island, but I'm not sure.
A girl was dead. Her parents were there - sweet, well groomed, kind of nerdly sweet. And then
other people in the house began to be killed off in gruesome ways (I don't remember specifics, but suffice to say there was a whole lot of blood and a body flayed to the bone in a bathtub).I did something to upset the whole order of 'waiting around this stupid house for an unkown killer until we all get deaded'- something to the effect of calling a group meeting, and rousing the nervous, ninnish troops into action so we could all get out together. Safety first, you know - everybody has a buddy, but 10 buddies is best.
This did not sit well with the nice couple, who began killing people with axes.
So I ran, and then things got more dream-like. I was in a grove of very green grass and low-hanging live oak trees. It was lovely in the afternoon light, but I was terrified. The most beautiful white horse was there - almost like it was waiting for me, to ease my escape.
I climbed up, chased by the crazies, and we had just 'lost' them from our sight and come across a small yellow house with a strange carport awning (one of those cheap, wall-less ones that just keeps it from raining on your car?) when the horse's back leg caught on something and he fell, throwing me.
His back right leg was shattered, and I could hear the murdering couple closing in, now with a car. Then I noticed that under the awning there was a kind of trap door made of earth and moss, so that someone could hide under it. I pulled the horse into the hiding hole with me, held my breath, and closed it so that it looked like the ground had swallowed us up and left no further trace, just as the car pulled in on top of us and the couple got out.
I could just see her practical, short-heeled grayish brown shoes walking by my head before I woke up, my heart in my throat.
.....
I've been spending a little time scouring online dream dictionaries, lame as that is, trying to make some kind of post-Freudian sense of it all -- largely in an effort to distract myself. No real luck so far, other than the super-Freudian the couple stands for marriage, and their act of killing is symbolic of me making a dramatic stand against something in my own life. Given the white horse, this could be a break with chastity -- the hiding underground could be that I'm in need of security and protection, but want to suppress that fact.
Pffffffffffffft. Nope. The Freudian view just won't do. Total bunkis.
Any thoughts?
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