My Dream
Dream
Part I: The content
12/23/06
I had a dream last night. I was at the White House and I was part of the Secret Service. There were a bunch of us and we were in very specialized gear and clothing. What we wore was designed to absorb and protect us from the power, radiation and heat of a nuclear blast. We were there to protect the President of the United States who was also dressed in the same clothing and gear. If we, dressed in this stuff, surrounded him and he wore the same gear he would be protected. We were all on our hands and knees and we had him surrounded when the nuclear blast went off. The heat and intensity of the blast were tremendous. I was in the middle of the group, in the second or third row. The men in front of me were consumed in white-hot heat. The specialized gear and clothing were burning. I was on my hands and knees and I saw my, gloved splayed hands, on the marble, begin to burn. I watched as the heat began consuming my gloves beginning at my fingertips. I was afraid and I wondered when it was going to stop or if I would perish in the blast. I looked back because I thought we were all dead. Apparently, the blast had gone just to my hands and it stopped. Just as quickly as it had started it was over. All the buildings were destroyed. Apparently, the President was safe and all the rest of us were fine. I got up with the rest of the Secret Service and we all began to walk out of what was left of the building. Everyone dispersed and I did not see them again. The President was gone and I didn’t see him again nor did I know what had happened to him. The building was made of white marble and I could see the crumbled marble and the re-bar and the dust and dirt. I walked out of the building and there was my friend with red hair. She had been my friend for a long time. She was tall and thin and silent. We walked down the white marble stairs out on to some very green grass. It wasn’t manicured domestic grass; it was wild but growing on the ground between the couple of buildings that were left standing and the buildings that weren’t fully standing any more. As we walked across the grass we walked toward a building that was fully intact. It was made of white marble. It had stairs leading up to a large dark door way and it had giant columns. It looked like it belonged in Washington, D.C. in the capitol. Coming down the stairs was a very young but older, kind and wise Ronald Reagan and his wife. She was a woman in her Mid-thirties with short brown hair. She was very calm, kind and supportive. Reagan I spoke about what to do next. We spoke as if I was to do something important. I asked him some questions we talked some more and then we parted company. My friend was silent. My friend, I recognize in real life as Janet K., a woman who was a good friend of my sister’s and a good friend of mine since she was 5 and I was 7. In the dream we’d known each other for about 7 to 10 years and we were close, I think. As we walked she continued to be silent. I was very aware of her presence. Janet and I walked on in the grass away from the buildings to some rolling grassy hills. When Janet and I were far away from the buildings but not so far the buildings had disappeared. We stopped and I dropped to my hands and knees. I looked down and stared at my splayed hands that were on the grass and dirt, the same way I saw them on the ground in the building with the gloves on. I knew there was something I was supposed to do but I just stared at my hands. All I really wanted to do at that moment was stare at my hands and wait. There was a crowd a ways
away and they were talking to themselves and wondering what I was doing and what I was going to do. They expect me to do something. Janet broke her silence and told me to get up. She wanted me to do something. Her tone and the way she used her words sounded like I had never done anything right or everything I’d ever done was crap. Janet asked me why I wasn’t getting up. She asked why I wasn’t doing something. She said there were others counting on me. She wanted to know why I was just kneeling there staring at my hands. She wanted to know what I was going to do. Her words dripped with contempt for me. She told me she had been taking good care of me and that she had supported me making sure I’d done everything right for the last 9 years. She implied that any success I’d had, in my life, was because of her. She said she made me who I was, today. I didn’t move. I didn’t say anything, I just stared at my hands and I was deep in thought. I just kept thinking and waiting for something. Janet was angry because I wasn’t doing anything. Then I woke from my dream.

20 Comments:
All it needs is some sex now. Have you considered mild embellishment? Maybe the angry one? Yeah, that that. ;-)
I don't dream about your angry 1 and 1/2 inches...it's just not my orientation to go there.
As I told you when you first discussed it with me, I think that is an amazing dream. Whenever I've had a dream like that, I feel like I caught a glimpse of something deep and meaningful.
That a woman could come after a man like that oblivious to the cost he just paid to do what he did is amazing, but believable. I almost take it for granted. Not that all would, by any means. But that enough do that we've come to expect it, and don't know if any response will have any traction with her.
Anyway, when I first heard it, what I came away with was that the last part was really inconsequential compared to everything else. This was a dream about your ability to protect important things in the face of great odds.
I'm with Kobra here. The dream ended on an anticlimax.
It is interesting that you have picked up on the magnitude of the beginning of the dream and the anti-climax of the end of the dream (I didn't realize Kobra was serious or I wouldn't have been so quick to dismiss his comment). As I look back on our discussions about this dream and all that you and Rod have said about it, I am struck by what meaning sticks with you and what has stuck with me. I don't remember the importance and how powerful I was and all that I accomplished at the beginning of it. I focus on my lack of action, my failure, and the woman's criticism from the end of the dream. Rod picked up on the failure piece, too. You said it was a good father dream.
At least they weren't rubber gloves, you were a proctologist, and you were awaiting the arrival of your 2:30 AM appointment with Pat Kyle. Talk about nuclear.
Obviously, this dream has affected you deeply, Kobra and you are expressing your insecurities through humor.
Well, I'm now truly insecure about my inability to control my dreams. I'm afraid I'll dream I'm a farm animal vet and that there will be in the field a herd of constipated Pat Kyles that I'll have to give suppositories to. Thanks alot!
should read "ability"
This is a truly frightening dream.
(should read)these blog comments is a truly frightening dream.
oh never mind.
What was that principle of dream interpretation you were telling me about, looter? That each element in the dream is somehow really the dreamer himself. Now how would we apply that to kobra's feared dream?
I just don't get what the big fuckin' deal is. Yeah, cool dream and all, but I dream this shit daily, and I laugh when my skin is peeled off by nuclear shit. Suck the shit up, bitch.
I would expect such a comment from someone who lives in the sticks.
So all joking aside that was a pretty cool dream. When will we get to hear part two?
A dream can be interpreted many different ways given the matrix one decides to use. The most helpful matrix I use is attributing everyone and everything in the dream as part of the dreamers self. It gets kind of multi personality like when I do that but the fun part is putting all the pieces parts together and making an interpretation that is valuable to the dreamer. Given this type of interpretation my dream is about critical mother, good father how I've failed in my internal mothers eyes and how I've succeeded in my internal fathers eyes. The dream is about competence and moving forward competently. It's also about firing the internal critical mother.
I think it is about your lack of control over your life and how that lack of control is destroying those closest to you. You only lose your hands, but your friends lose their lives. YOu are a selfish bastard. Did you ever think that maybe it is a dream that is telling you to buy more charcoal?
Obviously, you are a wanna be lawyer,Sorry Huckleberry, who thinks he knows something about something but you shy away from winky bathtube jello love and try to spoon with Pablo. I think you need drugs.
There you go Looter. Trying to play the therapist role again with your friends. Is that how you got Huck to bare his anus to you?
Now now Pablo I know you feel rejected by Kobra because he won't share a room with you and spoon anymore. There is no need to go all passivist about it redirecting your anger at someone else with your name calling games. We've talked about this before just step up to Kobra and throw down with that biatch.
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