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muckefuckI've written several times about my dreams of violence before. Night before last, I had a succession of frustrating oneiric encountres that made me want to take people's heads off, though I avoided going into full-on ass-kicking mode. Last night, however, I experienced a pacifistic counterpoint to these.
I dreamt of a theatre performance where one character suddenly had the ability to turn others into clones of himself. One by one, as roommates came down to the table to eat a meal, their faces would morph into those of the protagonist (great FX, BTW) and they would begin speaking and acting like him. The spotlight turned on me and I played the role of a friend/roommate steadily more creeped out by this development. Finally, I turned to flee lest I lose my identity as well, but the protagonist seized me in a full nelson. I began to morph, but fought it off; however, my body went limp as I expired from the effort. Curtain.
Except this was theatre in the round, so we were left on stage holding that position. And hold it we did until the entire theatre was clear. I remember being very conscious of regulating my breathing and being careful to keep my eyes fixed on an indefinite spot even as small children came up wondering if I were really did or not. One was bawling his eyes out and carrying on in a way reminiscent of me as a child and I desperately wanted to comfort him, but I didn't budge. This went on for what seemed about fifteen or twenty minutes before I woke up. I decided I immediately wanted to fall back asleep and so laid limp and was carefully regulating my breathing to relax myself. It bemused me to realise this was exactly what I'd just been doing in the dream. It was such a nice change from awaking with a start, pumped with adrenaline from pulverising a mean kid or taking out a half dozen assassins or whatever.
In another refreshingly novel development, the hot Moroccan sex dream that followed was actually allowed to run its course without embarrassing interruptions. I remember several times looking up and thinking, We're in a cottage out in the open with huge windows on three sides and no drapes. Any moment I'm going to see a pack of rugrats peering in or my 1st grade teacher or somebody! But no one ever did. And my sex partner actually held his (attractive) shape for the whole time without mutating into an oversized baby or foot-long plastic doll or whatever.
I dreamt of a theatre performance where one character suddenly had the ability to turn others into clones of himself. One by one, as roommates came down to the table to eat a meal, their faces would morph into those of the protagonist (great FX, BTW) and they would begin speaking and acting like him. The spotlight turned on me and I played the role of a friend/roommate steadily more creeped out by this development. Finally, I turned to flee lest I lose my identity as well, but the protagonist seized me in a full nelson. I began to morph, but fought it off; however, my body went limp as I expired from the effort. Curtain.
Except this was theatre in the round, so we were left on stage holding that position. And hold it we did until the entire theatre was clear. I remember being very conscious of regulating my breathing and being careful to keep my eyes fixed on an indefinite spot even as small children came up wondering if I were really did or not. One was bawling his eyes out and carrying on in a way reminiscent of me as a child and I desperately wanted to comfort him, but I didn't budge. This went on for what seemed about fifteen or twenty minutes before I woke up. I decided I immediately wanted to fall back asleep and so laid limp and was carefully regulating my breathing to relax myself. It bemused me to realise this was exactly what I'd just been doing in the dream. It was such a nice change from awaking with a start, pumped with adrenaline from pulverising a mean kid or taking out a half dozen assassins or whatever.
In another refreshingly novel development, the hot Moroccan sex dream that followed was actually allowed to run its course without embarrassing interruptions. I remember several times looking up and thinking, We're in a cottage out in the open with huge windows on three sides and no drapes. Any moment I'm going to see a pack of rugrats peering in or my 1st grade teacher or somebody! But no one ever did. And my sex partner actually held his (attractive) shape for the whole time without mutating into an oversized baby or foot-long plastic doll or whatever.
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Too bad my partner for that dream was Joxer the Mighty. {shudder}