The Natatorium

An emporium of oddities from around the world, complete with somewhat informative plaques that almost never match the item they are meant to be describing.

Sunday, January 16, 2005

Dream a Dream... of Death

I know, it's so cliché to be preoccupied with death, especially at my age. I'm not, really, I've just gotten myself infused with too much death-themed media recently. I've been watching some of the more serious Buffy episodes that deal with death, and I've been reading The Lovely Bones. I guess I could blame these things for the recent rash of death dreams if I wanted to, but in reality I'm sure it has a lot more ot do with my actual life at the moment than with the worlds I escape to.

In dreams, death means change, so it makes sense that I would be very death-oriented in my dreams these days. Things are changing for me, again, which I guess is a good thing. New job, new semester, new people in my life. There is one thing that bothers me though--if you throw yourself towards death in dreams, does it mean you're throwing yourself toward change (a good thing) or that you're being self-destructive (a bad thing). I had one of those tunnel dreams, only it was more like a dark cave, not scary but earthy and natural with a sort of nurturing dirt floor. I came to a point in the cave where it forked off; to the right was a tunnel that I couldn't see down because of the blindingly bright light coming from it, and to the left was a tunnel that I couldn't see down because it was pitch black. I got the feeling that the dark tunnel was angled downward and full of earth. I knew I should go into the light, but suddenly, as though I had no control over myself, I was diving into the dark tunnel, down and down, feeling the soft, moist earth grazing my skin and starting to envelop me. It wasn't a scary experience in itself, the dark and the dirt, but I was afraid because I felt that I'd made the wrong choice, I knew it wasn't the way I was supposed to have gone.

In the midst of the falling and enveloping, I woke sharply and was in my room looking at my curtained windows. I started to think about the dream a little, but then the phone rang and I woke up for real, not looking at the windows but with my face pressed against the pillow. A dream within a dream. I think my mind pulled me out of the tunnel and back to a safe and familiar place because I didn't want to know what was going to happen next in that hole. I didn't want to see where that darkness would lead me.

I suppose I have nothing to worry about. It's not like I'm actively pursuing darkness or anything. And anyway, soon I'll be back at school, and between classes, work, and family, I won't have enough time to brood and contemplate and dream and obsess about my subconscious anymore.

So, yay.


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