77
Usually, people forget their dreams once they wake up or if they do not try their hardest to remember every sliver of it when they first rouse from their sleep. Last night, I wasn't feeling well and perhaps, this contributed to the most bizarre nightmare I've ever had so far. I can't remember it entirely - only two happenings are vivid in my mind now and both are equally puzzling. It is puzzling because I tried to interpret it since I'm a firm believer that dreams mean something to a person.
I don't remember how it started and maybe I forgot because it wasn't as shocking as the part where an unknown friend brought me to a gladiator-like ring and told me that there are inexplicable things in this world. An injured man in a long-flowing black garb came out of nowhere and started running away from a man armed with a rifle. The speaker announced that it was a Pakistani man trying to escape from an Israeli. I didn't question the inaccuracy of the clothing of said men in my dream; everything seemed the way it should be. I stood in the middle of the ring with my friend, as if we were invisible, then I saw the Pakistani man turned into a huge dog, one the size of an adult panther, in a split second. He looked petrified by this transformation so I guessed someone cast a spell on him and it made him stop on his tracks to survey the surroundings with pleading eyes. I was equally confused and scared but my friend was calm. He was very serene; he knew what was going to happen. In another instant, the Israeli chaser turned into a lion the size of an elephant, leaped at the dog and bit its head off with one swift move. Then it faced me and growled loudly, showing all its bloody teeth after the violent victory. Its head alone was twice my height and I was so shaken by it that I fell to the ground with the echoes of the deep, primal sounds still ringing in my ears. My 'friend' gazed askance at me before putting a hand on my shoulder when I started sobbing. I don't know who or what I was crying for. Maybe it was for the fallen man.
In the second incident, I stood outside an indoor public washroom looking at the signs on the doors to decide which to enter. The men's and the women's doors face each other at an angle and the outer walls are covered with wine-red, small tiles. I think it was at night because everything was dark even though I was indoor. A single, tungsten light bulb hung between the two doors. I entered the women's restroom which was to my right. There was nothing inside except pipes and a few people who seemed to be wondering, like me, what this was all about. The room was very small and there wasn't any cubicle at all. The space where the cubicles should be located had been shut off by a cement wall. I was also curious as to why there was a middle-aged man taking his top off in the women's washroom but I decided to be passive and just went out quietly. Then I entered the men's washroom as if it was the natural thing to do if the women's restroom is closed. An old monk looked surprised to find me in there when I entered but I wasn't the slightest bit fazed by it. He was shorter than me so he had to look up when he said this, "The women's restroom is closed because they had to fix some pipes in there." I didn't know what to say to that so I just nodded my head and went further inside.
That is all I can remember. Bizarre.
Comments [0]