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Thursday, 24 January 2013

Goodness... whatever happened to happy dreams?

I had a restless night last night. I went to sleep relatively early but I kept waking up, worried that it was time for me to get up even though it wasn't and I already had an alarm on. I worried because I would not get enough rest if I kept waking up and I would be an absolute zombie. I had two not so nice dreams.

The dream I woke up to involved an older man who had been in the military. Since I don't know if he was in any war I don't know if he was officially a veteran, but we can assume for practical purposes that he was because there was a certain degree of solemnity and authority to whatever his status was. At any rate, there was this respectable old man who had served time and he was standing in the rain with me and another man. We were together, standing against a group of three punks (sorry for the old-man words, but it's what he'd call them and it's what best describes them) who were trying to pick a fight. Part of fighting was them twirling umbrellas in our general direction, which made a very cold, horizontal rain pour on us. I worried about the old man's health but he stood his ground quite calmly until he decided he'd had enough. That's when he walked right at the youngsters and past them, through a door right behind them. The door led to the salon of some sort of club, somehow related to the military, and it was relatively busy. The old man walked in and said he was firing the three punks from before, implying a number of things. It implied the old man had authority, somehow related to his seniority, to take all recognition from the young men. It implied that there was a recognition to be stripped in the first place, meaning they must have been in the military too. It was humiliating for the youngsters and I'm surprised they never thought this was a possible outcome of their attitude. They begged and put on a tantrum, as if being fired (I'm not sure why I chose that word, but it's the one used in the dream) were too great a disgrace. This is where I woke up.

The other dream evoked Cinderella. Cinderella was sometimes me, sometimes a girl not unlike Sarah Jessica Parker, and she was married and had a child. She lived in a house with a not very pleasant middle aged woman who was evil. How do I know she was evil? She visited Cinderella in an apparently harmless chit-chatty expedition and used the opportunity to burn the house down. This woman wanted to kill Cinderella and her family and make it look like an accident, except they survived. Cinderella couldn't wrap her head around this woman being so evil, and a black woman, friends of Cinderella, pointed out to Cinderella it was fortunate her husband had a good job. Cinderella couldn't get over the fact that she had just lost everything and her husband's job was not even starting to make up for the fact that she had no home to come back to, no clothes. The woman came by later, pretending not to have anything to do with the whole thing and asking about one of the items lost in the fire (maybe clothes?). Cinderella hated her lies and her shamelessness, amazed at how this woman could burn a house down hoping to kill three people and then pretend she didn't do it. 

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