An emotional and musical dream I had with sublimely consumming narrative

[Stillwater]

Last night I slept in a bit too long (  ), and I had the sort of dream I normally have when I stay in late-cycle REM for extended periods. It was very clear, but not lucid, so I believed the story it was telling- in my opinion, the way I prefer it, because this acceptance allows certain experiences and emotions I would not otherwise experience.


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The backstory was fairly trite: some sort of hollywood-style outbreak had occured, and the normal zombie infection, with transmission via bite. I had apparently held up with one of the other well-armed survivors, an old workingclass-hero type, and we were living our lives in this old ruined farmhouse. The episode at which I joined my remembered narrative, we were desperately fighting off a horde of the infected who were besieging the farmhouse through all openings, and at a moment of terrible tension, we were forced into an interior room with no windows, our would-be assailants thundering on the only door.

The odd thing about this room was that it had a railing down the middle, and door opened by rotating on an axis in the middle, so that when it opened, you could enter on either side of the door, but the raling in the room ensured that you could only enter the side of the room which corresponded to the side of the door you entered.

I looked at my companion, and there was a sort of consciously shared understanding that we would not get out of the situation without facining what was behind the door, so I allowed it to open, and what occurred afterward was quite counterintuitive- on his side, 3 zombies entered, and on mine, a frightened and attractive young lady; he passed me another look which clearly signified, "thanks...".

The three of us now in the room expressed great relief upon realizing that we were now alone after the prior onslaught, and of all things, the young lady, overcome with emotion, and the realization that our life prospects were clearly limited, suggested that we make love, which dream-me consented to, lol... which is also surprising, as erotic episodes are very infrequent in my dreams, for whatever reason.

Afterward, there was some mental lapse, and the next episode involved the three of us dealing with some new threat, in the form of these shining white, ethereal spectre type beings, which for some reason or other now wandered the deserted world, screaming terribly, like banshees. It was unclear what would happen to a person they were able reach, but I unconsciously knew it had to be something unmentionably dreadful. We had apparently rigged this system at the doors that emitted some sort of electrical pulse, accompanied by a grating siren sound, that for whatever reason repelled them, and needed to be activated whenever they were approaching.

This precise contingency is what we fell to, as a small but very threatening number of these beings were very nearly upon us before we activated the aforementioned defense system. Being exhausted from the effort this constant defense took, and there not being any intact electrical ligthing in this house, I fell asleep that night. I was awakened by a sound, and as I stepped into the main room of the house, brightly shining, silver moonlight had bathed the space, of supernatural intensity. As I stood there, I heard someone playing a harp, a mournfully minor-keyed song, filled with powerful longing, accompanied by an angelic voice, singing a gentle, yet sublime song, speaking of the rapturous joy a young girl had walking alone through her desserted country town at night, imagining she was dancing with the stars.

( I am certain that the song in the dream was inspired by this one from Joanna Newsom, which I had heard weeks ago, and is very much like it; in fact, I am very glad that I made the connection, as now it allows me a connection to the dream.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJ-mEpcxeoo  )

It was truly a transcendant moment.

I was overwhelmed with the juxtaposition of all that was happening at once- I knew that we were in dire trouble, and that terrible things were lurking outside in the night wishing us all kinds of harm, and that it was only a matter of time before we were overcome completely; yet this unspeakably beautiful thing could be, this girl singing her song of past and serene joys, and I felt such ecstasy in being given that gift in such a dark time, that I was filled with the calmest accpetance of the fate that awaited all of us, and felt that I could never be afraid again after hearing such as that.

I walked through the supernatural moonlight, and found her in her chamber, as she was ending her song, and she knelt at an old harp, a silver ray falling on her from a high window. A wrapped figure lay next to her, and she explained calmly to me that it was her attendant, who had been bitten.  The attendant stared calmly at me, with a startlingly ambiguous look, half lucid, half mad. It was understood by all there that she would not last long, but that she should be cared for as long as any trace of humanity remained, as my new friend felt a sort of reverent duty toward her.

We sat talking for a while in the moonlight, when we heard the shrieking of the white banshee beings again, and I ran to all of the doors activating the electronic deterrent system, at the last just before they stormed inside, and trailed off in rage.

As I returned to my friend, she was holding her old attendant, who now had a look of pure insanity in her eyes, and her teeth had yellowed and were falling out. She lept up at me, and I ran out of the room, frantically searching for a weapon. I found a large, but dull kitchen knife, and as I scrambled back, she was leaping through the doorframe at me, and in great alaram and haste, I slashed at the side of her neck, although she continued to flail at me, and I just continued hacking at her neck, cleaving off her head, the gaping hole filled with spongy white material sort of like old tofu, that did not at all resemble human flesh. Satisfied that she was dispatched, I walked back to my friend, who gazed at me with a look of understanding, but mixed with great loss.

The next moment, we heard the shrieking of the banshee creatures again, who had returned in haste, and I ran again to all the doors, but this time I didn't make it to all of them intime, and I was forced to jump out of one of the windows, as three of the creatures flooded into the remaing doors. I ran out into the night, frighted of what might happen to my friends, but knowing that I was powerless to stand against them, as they were apparently impervious to any weapons we had, and facing one meant some sort of instant death.  I also felt quite naked outside the house, with all the terrible things that were lurking out in the night, and me armed only with a feeble kitchen knife for protection. A few minutes later, I saw them glide back out of the house, unaware of my presenence outside.  I ran back inside, activating all the systems, and rushed then to see what had become of my friends. I found her in the same room, hunched against a wall, srubbing her arms franitcally with a sponge at a wash basin. She had the same look of near madness, and yellowed teeth, and I suddenly felt overpowering loss, thinking back to the gifts she had given only in the same night. I carried her to a wash basin, scrubbing her frantically, but to my great consternation, she transfiggured into a cooking wok, with a coat of rust. I then was possessed of the idea that if I could only scrub off all the rust, that she might change back and be saved... but I awoke amid this desperate attempt.
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Aside from being an incredible experience filled with overpowering emotions, I think this dream has demonstrated something to be very clearly: many of us here are familiar with the Hindu idea of the world as a sort of divine play, in which we all voluntarily take on various parts in the drama, with the need for a veil of forgetfullness, to allow us to better become our parts, for the fullest possible experience.

I think dreams like the one I had are a similar vehicle... they allow us to suspend past notions, and fully become a player in an all immersive experience, and have emotions and feelings that we could never otherwise have access to.

I wonder how much truth this idea might have, and if that is really part of what we are on earth to experience....

[Stookie]

Thanks for sharing Stillwater.

That's the same conclusion I've come to about many of my dreams, especially ones that involve violence, hacking & slashing, shooting, & running for my life. It could be ways of coming to grips with the fear of pain, suffering, and death. It's not often in real life I'm in a situation that brings that out of me, so it makes sense that if we need that to evolve it would manifest in one way or another, in this case, dreams. Or even in types of art that depict violence, like horror movies.