dreams

January 16, 2002

I woke up this morning and caught a glimps of my self in the mirror.
I looked there wondering what kind of person could have such horrible putrid dreams.
I have always liked the fact that I do dream so vividly, enjoying smells and other sensations in them like hot and cold, but this was one of those dreams that make me question my self and who I must be to see such things even while I sleep.

Dream: I was walking through a courtyard some time in the early morning. It was grey and the mist in the air had yet to settle. There were people there in the courtyard with me. Pale and gaunt some women stood holding their infants while the men mumbled to them selves. A few of the children were naked and it was a bit chilly out side. I held in my hand some old clothes that in real life I have just put away deciding I was too old to wear them any more. I offered them to the women with the naked babies who were crying a bit. Their eyes all fixed on me and they became enraged. Every one of them gathered around me screaming profanities in shrieking hellish voices almost inhuman.
Then they began to pull at my clothes, which led to hitting, and soon I was on the ground being kicked and my clothes ripped off of me.

Then the women holding their babies by their ankles and arms began hitting me with them. The babies I had been concerned about were now being flung at me, their bodies snapping and bending in impossible ways. While the women did this, the man had me exposed and bare before them and they proceeded to probe my most private places with their fingers while calling me a whore and a few other things. This went on and it was easy to keep my mind off the probing hands and fingers by trying to grab the babies and hold them under me. I was successful only once and the mother began kicking at me in my sides as I tried to shield the child from the on coming pummeling. A voice came from away and the crowed turned and began to walk towards it as if hypnotized, soundless and steady they moved away from me and the child I had. The baby was bleeding and its arms and legs twisted and distorted. I tried to stand and fell. A horrid pain shot into me and I looked at my leg to see the bone was sticking out of my skin, my leg broken in two. I scooted the baby and myself to some near by bushes and hid us away under them. The dream ended with me holding a horribly wounded child and wondering what I was going to do. Should I leave the bushes and take the chance those people were still there, or wait till nightfall, the child and I naked and bleeding, when I could hide in the dark.

I felt so much of the dream, my dangling leg dragging on the gound as I scooted biting my lip to confuse the pain, the babies warm blood drying sticky on my arma face and back, the coldness of the morning air on my naked body filthy with the memory of what those men did and said, the snapping of the infants bones and the noises they made when they cam in contact with me...all of those things come from somewhere, I knew each one of those to really feel them and they stayed with me through the day in certain ways. i wish I could wash my brain out with soap.