Nightmare
I fell asleep trying to outline chemistry close to midnight. I woke up close to 3, accidentally turned on the computer because I thought I had left it on, went through my normal check-all-internet-things-for-updates routine, realized everyone was alseep already, and crawled back into bed with my phone alarms to go off as normal, as if it were just another school day following.
Where my head traveled wasn’t filled with the normal, constant need to escape that I usully experience in what are my nightmares. There was a competition we were watching, a video game in a sense, but it was real in the sense that the acutal things moving and undergoing battle or taking the adventure themselves were real beings. This I am pretty sure of. But the controls for this were all on the computer. I remember fashioning a cover to make sure my computer didn’t get wet.
Perhaps it was a class. The object of the competition thing was to get into what I assume was ”dungeon” and defeat whatever was lurking inside.
I think someone did accomplish it. I felt guilty, because I was just lingering around the barbecue scene, not really working hard to attempt to accomplish the goal. I think I was in love with that someone in some way; whether there were any feelings returned, I do not know. It was possibly love, admiration for a comrade.
Somehow at the end of this mission, this person passed away. All I remember was the grief.
I think I possibly woke up that point crying, with my alarm going off, but I shut it off and fell back asleep.
In this second part, I had a guy friend. He had a wife and two young kids. Somehow the wife passed away.
There was also this old woman who worked on some sort of hotel/ranch. She gathered the produce of the farm and fed it to the horse. This part was explained to me in detail— each of the foods had a purpose, and I remember a detailed schematic to show to me how the careful diet essentially brought the animal to live, taught the animal’s body how to provide for itself in its function.
Somehow this woman disappeared, as well. My grandmother was in the dream, showing me how she continued on this woman’s work, gathering the same fruits.
My friend’s wife and the woman were linked, in a way. In a time span of six months recaped in my head for the couple’s togetherness, but the third month the old woman had passed away. In the fourth month they started buying chili plates every day to ease the grief of the family, especially the mother. The man explained it to me as needing something to make sure they stayed healthy despite the pain. At the end of that month, I met them. And by the sixth month… the wife had become so sick that she passed away.
In this world there was picture: the man with his two kids, and then me going to join them to extend a hand of comfort. But my reaction to this picture was, “No, no, no, I am not his wife, I am not his wife,I am not his wife.”
Distinctly, there was moment that I was in a classroom. The wife was possibly my friend and companion in my class. I looked around at the others, and I felt such disgust at the females dressed up with fake eyelashes, large headdresses, and painted faces. I then put up my hands to my own and felt the fake eyelashes, large wings extending outwards on my own face. I stared at my hands and realized I was just one of them. My heart sank. There were more immense feelings of guilt.
I tried to work out how everyone was connected. I tried to go to listen to the story of the man, but he told me a story of how his friend had tried to comfort him with a Skype call, just normal conversation, but halfway in the man asked him, “Is it done now?” As in, “Do you feel better now? Are you over your grief?” It was the worst feeling to see how a friend had failed to actually understand the magnitude of the situation and the reality of the experience his friend was experiencing.
In my dream the man and his family lived in the same building like me. It was like the dorms, with key cards to slide for every door. I got lost. Hallways opened up into more hallways, and rooms opened up to staircases that led to multiple floors for each room. There were coincidences in elevators and people trying to understand the relationship between us all… But once again, failures.
From this all, I woke up with so many more tears. What bothered me most was how easily the people disappeared, despite me not knowing actually in my dream what happened to them, and the way the people left behind dealt with it. The way people reacted to their deaths. The way people tried to carry on in consideration of the fact that the individuals played a role before they were gone, and that that role still needed to be filled.
Then there was my guilt. What did I do wrong?
I don’t know what it was that supurred all of this to enter my mind while I was alseep, but as I am also not much to interpret my dreams so thoroughly, I don’t really want to know what it indcates for the present and the future.
It made me wonder if I had read all these stories together in a book, before.
Honestly, I don’t want to wake up in tears ever again.
