Sometimes I wonder if this blog isn't turning into my dream journal. Other than one addition and one subtraction from my life not enough has really changed to be triggering these things. And yet I am remembering more, and more vividly, than at any other time that I can recall.
There are high and low sides to this.
Dream last Saturday:
Very high fantasy. Green forests, sparkling rivers, perfect sunsets. Raids into neighboring kingdoms, just to be sure they really aren't massing an army on the border. Rescuing small children who have been beaten by the religious group there for having 'odd tendencies'. Magic of course.
Scene shift to a battle at a castle. Trying to defend against the attack of the enemy- probably the same one that the kids were rescued from. Apparently years later. Inside the main hall the magickers are chanting/singing, trying to light the big bombs. Failing, enemy closing in, almost inside the castle. As the doors open, (I?) realize that the reason it isn't working is one of the girls is a plant! She is counter chanting, and i bash her on the head, knocking her out, and all the bombs light up. And then I wake up.
Dream last Sunday:
Dark. Dark everywhere, with lots of reds and blacks and browns. Some woman is holding this dog by the collar, waiting for me to do the ritual. Slice the head in half, slice the back end in half, more of a saw really.. and then the feet have to come off. The dog just waits there, quiet and unmoving, but I can see in it's eyes that there is something not right... something waiting. Not sure exactly what it was, but it was B-A-D. I leave the bits for the owner to take care of, and continue to the next. I never have to hunt them down, they are just there, being held by the collar by their owners, waiting for the cuts with a calm patience. The same cuts every time. But I know that if I don't do it, they will turn. Into what I don't know but again I know it is like Armaggedon bad. Suddenly, one is actively snuggling into my hip, the head cut finished, the others waiting to be done. It is a merle of some sort of breed, short haired. I drag myself out of the dream, and find the cat is curled into my hip, sleeping. 1:30 in the morning. I didn't feel scared- it wasn't a frightening dream. Just very disturbing.