Bitch on the Blog

December 14, 2017

Que?

Don’t say my dreams aren’t amusing if draining.

Last night I fought two battles. The second vaguely baffling. As I was passing some restaurant on my way home I was offered a job to serve food at table. To start this instant. Typical. Ask me a favour, I’ll comply. Not that I was dressed for the job. My first customer’s order wasn’t for a meal, but some sort of whiskey on ice. It took me half an hour to fulfill the order, not least because it took me ages to open the bottle and then I had to find the ice. Meanwhile the clock, in my vision, was ticking. Then, somewhat belatedly, the actual bartender came to little rescue and it got worse from there. This is why I prefer daytime and wakening hours to slumber. Dreaming is stressful and you have no control over what the hell is going on.

My first [dream] however, did set me thinking. You know the third eye? Well, I had one. Right bang in the middle of, and between, my two “normal” eyes, slightly elevated on my foreheard. So far so good. However, I had to fight forces (in the dark) who told me all sorts of nonsense why I needed to give up my third eye, and what terrible things would befall me if I didn’t. I willed myself to wake up.

U

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September 5, 2017

Let me bore you

“Listen to the whispers before they become shouts.” Excellent advice. Eternal optimist that I am I tend to wait till fate “shouts” at me – which will, naturally, take me by surprise. As I was [taken by surprise] in last night’s dream. It’s one of those that you’ll never forget because it seems poignant and has all the hallmarks of becoming one of those serial dreams which are most instructive.

Though, this minute, difficult to make head or tail of it despite the fact that it actually involved some strange birdlike blood thirsty creatures with both heads (well, mostly beaks) and tails. And bloody fast they were too. Most of the carnage took place in a bathroom, blood (mine) all over the place. The bind I was in that, desperately trying to fight off those suckers (screwing their heads into my flesh) and an impulse to flee, I had to decide whether to open the door to escape, thereby unleashing those little bastards onto everyone else in the vicinity (the bathroom was in a large department store, not dissimilar to Harrods) or stay put. To my shame I did open the door because I couldn’t stand it any longer. My ankles and lower legs in shreds already, my back and lower arms savaged several times.

As it turned out they were only after me, no one else got hurt. Well, that’s exclusivity for you. Or should that be “being targeted”. I didn’t feel flattered. I felt bewildered, not least because once unleashed into the open they largely lost interest in me too. Maybe, of course, that very last line holds the key (some key, part thereof) to what this dream was trying to tell me. If I take some of the dream interpretations you find online into account, then I better adjust my rear view mirror in case someone/something is sneaking up behind me. And don’t forget it all took place in a previously pristine bathroom … out of view of the public.

Sweethearts, thanks for listening. Tell me what you think or just tell me your own dreams even if, like Ramana, you can never remember them. Which, come to think of it, Ramana, most likely means that you are protecting yourself from what your subconscious is trying to tell you. It might make for a peaceful life but …

Jungian greetings,

U

August 23, 2017

Bail

Filed under: Atmosphere,dreams — bitchontheblog @ 20:09
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Apropos of nothing: What’s your nightmare scenario?

I have two: One which I relive a lot of nights in my dreams. Mainly that I always have to pack up (sometimes a whole house), never enough time to do so and even if I do manage to, just about, the car/train/whatever transport will be packed and I don’t have enough hands to handle it all. On a particularly good night’s sleep the platform’s number eludes me. Or my car’s axle breaks under the weight of the kitchen sink. The last scene I made up, the rest is true.

The second and worser than worse nightmare is being imprisoned. Considering how much I fear being locked up I fear for myself. Because, in my experience, that which we fear most will eventually look over our shoulder. Please do tell me otherwise whilst not neglecting to tell me (see above) your worst nightmare scenarios – or at least one of them.

U

 

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