Three vivid dreams repeated during my childhood. They shocked me awake each time they occurred, perhaps explaining why I remember them to this day. Their meaning I can speculate on though I really do not know. I do know they were reality stretchers, then and now.
First, and most distressing, I was a 17-year old, replacement soldier of the Waffen SS, fresh from years as a Hitlerjungend, traveling across Russia towards my assigned unit. While in line for a meal, a Russian youth, younger than I, shot me fatally in the stomach. Perhaps you can understand why this would jolt me awake in a cold sweat. Had it not repeated several times in exact detail, I probably would not have remembered it.
The second such shocking dream was being the 15-year old Russian youth who shot the German youth of the previous dream. After shooting him, I was kicked to the ground and shot through the neck by another German soldier. This one, too, repeated, but not as often.
The third was being an interstellar spaceship—not manning it, being it. Data from the various hull-mounted sensors came directly to me as if the sensors were appendages. Later, when awake, I would imagine some kind of brain-in-a-jar scenario to explain this, which was a popular science fiction scenario of the black-and-white movies. Today, an alternate explanation better fits: My personality and consciousness is uploaded to the computer controlling the ship. I am the Borg. I now think of this as Exit 5. More on Exit 5 in later post.
Strange dreams, but then, again, I was a strange child.
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I used to have a re-occuring nightmare about you when I was a child where you would explode through the double window in our old double wide on Tupelo Drive and you would be on fire. Later when you recovered and came home you had strange arms, your biceps would be straight bone and then the rest of your arm normal. You would stand on an ottoman and light your fingers on fire while people would yell for us to get out of the house because it was crumbling around us. Outside where a lot of people I recognized from St. John Neuman school but none of them seemed to know me.
ReplyDeleteWho knows what the hell that means but I had that dream more than once and found it to be very disturbing. To the point where I would not want to go to sleep at night, or watch anything on tv that referenced death, fires or bones.
And yet I was perfectly comfortable in the knowledge that a ghost lived on the roof of our trailer.
Strange.
That is strange, and I have no clue. Sometime, tel me more about the ghost on the roof.
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