Weirder, and weirder, and weirder still…

Posted on by The Witch of South Mountain

So the dream thing is pretty much taking on a life of its own…

Two nights ago, I had a dream about visiting a shrine to a religion that was far more akin to a cult than anything. It was a fabulous location, with about 500 steps leading up to the main shrine. It was called The Church of the Holy Shrine, and tours were available on every other hour. I arrived at the church by providence, since the directions to the place were completely inaccurate, as were the Google maps. Luckily, I recognized its magnificence. (Keep in mind, I am an athiestic/nature-pagany type person…) We all got out and stood in a very long line to take the tour. After hours, we got in and sat down to a very impressionistic video, followed by an invitation to attend a catered lunch.

I was with my parents, my fiance, and my closest friend. The nice thing was, we were able to take pictures together (on the edge of a precipice) in a very picturesque location. We looked fabulous.

At the lunch, people milled about, drinking wine (thank goodness for that) as we awaited the culinary celebration. Alas, there were more people than tables and anarchy ensued. [This is interesting, since the night before, I had dreamed of a sit down dinner at a fancy club with my parents, at which I was not allowed to sit with them. Instead, I was seated at a small coffee table with a yoga ball to sit on. I had one hell of a time to not roll under the table, and I never got any bloody food. But I digress….] Needless to say, no one ate.

Shortly thereafter, the person in charge of the religion/cult announced that the main event was about to start. We were to witness the most spectacular event in the history of religion. We were all on vessel very much like a ship, and we were violently tossed about as if we were in rough seas. As it turned out, we had been attached by a large crane, unseen by us as we were forced upon it. By the time someone stopped it, most of us had been thrown off. We were witness to the ship taking “sail” down the steps. It resembled a cardboard tank. Very odd…

When the “tank” rolled to the bottom of the steps, it hit water and exploded on impact. Most of the spectators didn’t survive. I did.

Fast forward to last night’s dream… I don’t remember a lot of the beginning. My consciousness starts at being trapped on the top of a hill that is akin to a painted desert hilltop. It’s dirt, only about 30 feet from the main land, and I’m in a car. It’s all quite hopeless, since it’s too far to jump, so, I have no choice but to force myself to slide down.

I think that’s the worst part of  dream. I have no control. I can’t help where I fall, and where I land. Eventually, I do land. At the end of my own garden (which isn’t actually my garden). My legs won’t work and I have to haul myself (inch by inch) up an impossible hill.

Once I get there, I am on a familiar street (in dreams, but not reality) and I meet up with my mother. We decide to head home (?!?) and head down main street. It’s a busy street, with which I’m familiar (but never been in on real life – although I feel I know it intimately). I am barefoot, and stepping on every piece of glass and stone. My mum and I stop at a store to get shoes. None are to be had and so and I’m ushered out in the swampland. I can only travel though that for so long before I’m forced out into the streets again. This time, the sidewalks are paved with jagged stone and shards of glass. I am still barefoot, but have a mile yet to walk.

So there you have the latest weirdness. It’s getting weirder and weirder as time goes on.

Does anyone have any insight? Please share, if you do.

Now I’m afraid to drive.

Posted on by The Witch of South Mountain

I would imagine that because my life hasn’t changed (what with the constant instability of unemployment) my dreams are still freakishly odd. Here’s what I remember from last night.

There was a whole whack of weird stuff as I walked through my town. None of it is in my town, but I’ve seen it before in dreams… I’ve been to this town many times, the shops are the same, I’ve never been there, but I know it’s my town. But, I digress. The most vivid part was when I was driving into it. I got to the stop sign where the gas station/corner store is (even though it’s not a four-way stop in real life) and my car stalled at the intersection. Acquaintances that I’ve not seen in a long time arrived on the scene in tiny metal stroller/metal wheeled things (kind of like sitting in the bottom part of a tea caddy…) on their way to visit another friend at the house at that very corner. I joined them, hoping my car would start soon. What ensued was a bunch of annoying girly gossip, which I hate with a passion, and I had to leave. As I got into my car, a little old man started bashing his own car into my rear bumper, trying to get me to move through the intersection. Alas, it still wouldn’t start. I shrugged and waved, to which he hit the gas and plowed me into the ditch.

Once I extricated myself, I crossed the street to the gas station/corner store (which now has a garage, unlike real life) and found someone who would pull me out. He offered to do so and tow me home (about 1 kilometer) for $75. I was horrified and responded that all I wanted was to get to the garage. He quoted me $15 instead. It ended up costing me $45 to be towed about 50 feet. Bastard.

At the same time, a co-op garden was being ploughed under by some fiendish human, and giant zucchinis were being hurtled across the street. They were hurtling across the street like giant, green, oblong cannon balls. People were running around like mad, picking up the flying vegetables. I was quite disappointed, being more of a cucumber kind of girl.

While I was waiting for my car, I went to work (right next door – how convenient!) in a place I’ve been before in my dreams, but again, never in real life. It was the same creepy scenario of trying to clean out an abandoned, decrepit, musty old diner/shop/restaurant/house. As happens every time, I’ve forgotten the alarm code and panicking about what to do when I’m done. I go through the same rooms, doing the same thing, enter the same creepy living space that is set up to look like it’s lived in but no one does, deal with the same kittens that I’m convinced are trying to lure my own cats out into the rat-infested attic (which makes no sense, since my cats aren’t there, even though they are…), and go down into the same basement trying to find one particular thing – although I never know what it is. This time, however, the dream differs. This time, while in the basement, I met a ghost. A soldier from the First World War. He was lovely, and helped me back up the stairs when they crumbled and I became trapped. Although I did feel guilty stepping on a grand piano.

Intermingled through all of these dreams I was with people trying to find a seat at various restaurants and we were placed in the strangest places, I was driving roads I’ve travelled hundreds of times (but again, not in real life – despite the fact that they were sooo familiar), I was walking through a school campus that I knew like the back of my hand (which I’ve never been to), and playing bagpipes (at least THAT is realistic!) with a band I’ve never played with before.

In the end, when the tire was pulled off my car in order to remove it from the ditch (apparently that was essential!?!), half a tree was found lodged in the middle of the engine. No idea where that came from. I guess that’s why it stalled.

In real life, my check engine light has been on for a month. Even though I’m 99% sure it’s something that’s not a big deal, I’m kind of afraid to drive now.