Dream Journal #4

anarchist's picture

Just now I dreamt that a dog (that I remember being somewhat close to, but not very much) had died and a friend and I had to escort its soul to the land of the dead.

The beginning of the path there was a steep path through a dark forest of monolithic trees. For some reason a rat wanted to join us at the entrance, but we wouldn't let it. I think it was because the rat was still alive. We embarked on the path, mostly sliding down, until we got to the forest floor. For some reason there was no undergrowth and the trees were far apart enough for us to peacefully walk beneath them (though not enough to allow much sunlight through the dense canopy). To ensure that it did not leave and doom itself forever, and since I didn't have a leash, I held the dog by its tail the entire time.

The first other people we encountered were at a massive tee party (more of a festival, actually). We made our way directly through, since there was no way around and we couldn't leave the path. We had to avoid stopping for tea at all costs, or we would no longer be able to continue. This wasn't as easy as it may sound, because those at the party were very friendly, and very disappointed that we didn't want to join. I remember that they weren't human, but I don't remember what they did look like.

On the walk, my friend kept encouraging the idea of riding the dog to speed up the mission, but I very stubbornly argued that we shouldn't do that to a dead soul.

After a bit of walking we were no longer in the forest and ended up on a wide road cut along the face of a cliff. There were houses inside the cliff to our right. The road was barren, and there was nothing but brownish-grey rock. We eventually encountered a massive waterfall. There were staircases coming from the road leading, from two different directions, to a landing, and an identical one was on the other side, but with a long and narrow stone bridge set vertically on that end. By the bridge on the other end was someone who called himself a king. I remember that someone had warned us about him.

It was his duty to lower the bridge for travelers, but he would only do so if they acknowledged his title and were polite to him. It felt like I was no longer controlling my own actions at this point of the dream.

My friend tried to ask him to lower the bridge, but wasn't polite enough and failed (calling him "Yo, king!"). I then attempted and was much more successful, but at the last minute decided to instead ask him to open a door to a specific house next to the road, that apparently was familiar to me, but I was no longer in control of myself.

We entered this house and retrieved another lost soul (in the form of another animal that I don't remember) that was trapped in there. For some reason I don't remember the dog being with us in the dream anymore. Maybe we had already reached the land of the dead, and this was a diversion.

Strangely, the dog looked and felt almost exactly like on of my dogs, but with different fur color. My pets seem to die a lot in dreams. I think this is probably because they're the only animals I'm familiar with enough to dream about.

No dream yesterday, because my sleep was interrupted twice during the night, at about 4 and 6:30, so I couldn't remember a thing.

I've been listening to more Oneohtrix Point Never, and I also spent all of yesterday making two songs that I'm very proud of, and starting a third, since there was no school and I was allowed to be at my maximum level of productivity.

So until I finish the EP I'm working on, just have this:


elph's picture

On dreams...

You might take a look at this article in today's HuffPo:

Why Do We Dream?


anarchist's picture

First of all,

that video was the worst thing I've experienced all day. Everything about it, especially that annoying woman was horrific.

Also, I don't think that's accurate, since all the negative thing that happen in my dreams are things I never worry about (like depression, an arm reaching into my house through the window while I'm sleeping, a witch possessing entire towns to try and kill me, a Cuban woman turning into a monster while I'm trapped in a prison, and a giant stone monster attacking a museum in Japan), except my pets dying, which doesn't happen nearly as often as all the fucking abstract chaos that my dreams usually are.

elph's picture

I wasn't endorsing it...

Just thought you might have a reaction to it... and, you didn't disappoint! :)

My own 2¢: I suspect that all our conscious experiences are stored in the brain as a string of "memory memes" (very much like morphemes in spoken language). When dreaming, these "memes" are randomly accessed... but without a controlling grammar...

Of course, this is just a hunch: I've no qualifications in this arena!