For the past week I’ve been having really vivid dreams, with a peculiar stress on certain words. It’s similar to waking up with a song in your head, except instead of a song, it’s a word. One morning this week it was “Erica”. I know no one named Erica. This morning it was “psychobabble”.
Falling asleep feels a little like playing a game of Russian Roulette sometimes. After a string of fairly innoccuous dreams, and one that was very pleasant, last night I was reliving a painful experience over and over. The dreams were full of symbolism, and each time I would wake up, I’d feel the hurt and remember the symbols, only to fall back asleep and relive the scenario from another surreal angle. This is what I mean about the Russian Roulette game; when we fall asleep, we really do not know what we are going to experience, whether it will be forgettable, pleasant or downright painful.
After the scene playing out three times with three different perspectives, I did gain some insights, and there was a little humour to be gained from it. I was reminded of the film The Jerk, and this scene when Steve Martin’s character is saying he doesn’t anything, “except this”.. in that my priority when making my exit from the scene was in holding on to a fireguard, and to a little, aboriginal musical instrument.