Monday, July 11, 2005

What dreams may come

Celanie insists that our dreams mean something, and while I do not disagree that they mean something, I'll leave the ability to discern that meaning to gypsies, soothsayers, and psychiatrists. They mean little to me.

Nonetheless, I spent most of the morning while I was getting ready for work thinking about my dream in which I was running partially clothed from place to place including various houses and neighborhoods. The houses and neighborhoods, like the shapeless, scantily clad female accompanying me, were nameless. I don't remember what we were running from, but something was after us. At the end, some drunken humans followed us through a door into a house of a person I cannot name but most assuredly knew. I then pushed the lot out the door, and then went upstairs to join my friend and my female Virgil.

This dream bears some similarity to a dream I had about a week ago, in which my workplace was something like The Village from that Shamaylan (sp?) movie. In my dream, my work was overrun by troll-ogres who had been kept captive for many years. The people at work, led by my boss, mobilized to fight the ancient evil, but were all torn to shreds. I, with another nameless person, fled the tree-village that was my workplace, into the world, ahead of a pack of voracious troll-ogres. At one point, we stopped to eat, and then I remember running down some train tracks away from the monsters who were not really pursuing us or me, but just pillaging the world in their path.

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