Okay, so here's what I dreamt last night:
My brother Charlie and I were part of a choir in England who's director had committed a terrible offense, unnamed and unknown to me in my dream. According to ancient tradition, we were instructed to execute him in the following manner. He was set before the choir, tied up, and we all took turns hurling darts - like the ones you see in bars, or in someone's den - at him as hard as we could. We would dip the tips of these darts in blueberries, some, only some, of which were poison. He stood there like a statue, as he began to resemble a pincushion with dozens of little darts sticking out of him. I was very proud of my ability to hurl the darts with great force and accuracy into his body, but I couldn't help wondering if he was congratulating himself on the brilliance of having insisted on this bizarre and not terrible effective form of ritual slaughter.
Now, my brother and I were in a choir in high school - not English, but with a real elitist British bent. And it did have a choir director who was forced out by angry parents because he was one of those intensely ambitious artists who make great things happen for kids but often at the expense of their mental health. And I have recently been reminded of this choir because somebody on Facebook has been posting dozens of pictures of people and things from this era. But why was I so savagely happy with my ability to hit him with darts? And what the hell is up with the poison blueberries?
I had a really weird dream last night that I had discovered that my brother in-law (who is a linguist in real life) had been purposely only speaking Latin to my 3 year old niece because he thought it would make her more likely to get into a good school - and also he was writing a book about her. When I tried to tell Chris he accused me of lying to try and alienate him from his family. So, I left, but then I ended up moving into a filthy apartment with all these secret doors and stair cases and once again I was back to packing and trying to get out of the apartment because I felt unsafe.
ReplyDeleteI am so fascinated by the world of dreams. It is such a theatrical place, full of import, depth and wonder. And I am so captivated by the mysterious certainty that you feel when you are dreaming that is, in fact, a world,complete in itself, where a deeper life is somehow moving on while you are waking.
ReplyDeletei feel like maybe your brother was wounded by his high school years and you may have part of it the darts were like little comments that maybe event were coated with something "sweet" (blueberries) but were event more harmful than the direct blows
ReplyDeleteI feel simerly to the comment above. I think that the darts reprosent hurtfull experences (mental or physical), the blueberries idicate something good or helpfull when the hurtfull times really hurt. But i think that the poisened blueberries ment that the 'sweet' times came in a discise and create more pain the the darts themself. Hope this helps and if so then email me at xXemilypixeyXx@gmail.com
ReplyDelete