Noctural meanderings [6/9/05]

Perhaps it’s the constant state of near-stupor that isn’t conducive to experiencing them but, for me, dreams are not a common occurrence. It is worth recording that recently a fairy made her debut on the little stage in my mind during Sleepy Time. Events such as this are not common – in fact that’s a huge understatement.

Usually the ones I remember are nightmares. An unforgettable example from years ago featured an audio tape recording of a person being tortured to death. And this owed nothing to the methods of the Moors Murderers. At the time I did not know of Ian Brady and Myra Hindley. All I can say is that this was in the worst case of bad dreams. ‘Chilling’ is the best word I can think of.

More recently, memories of dreams have been marked by a certain cinematic quality. This overrides any other feature of the experience. A bad dream is thus enjoyed for its production values and direction. I woke up following one particularly gothic dream, thinking: “Cool!” In fact I think I said it aloud. Another time, it was a dystopia – a sort of post-nuclear, humanity-is-enslaved story. The alien overlords seemed to have departed. Rain began to fall on the barren earth. It seemed like the end of a film.

I thought most dreams had some connection with sex, but interpretations can be wider than that. Rats have appeared in the past. Rats don’t just mean repulsion, they can mean doubts, guilt, and envy … and here’s me thinking that the fact that I really hate rats is why I dream about them sometimes. So what of fairies? Well http://www.dreammoods.com has this to offer:

To see a fairy in your dream, indicates that you are in search of some help or advice for a problem or decision, but may not want to directly admit you need help. In particular, if the fairy is evil, then it suggests that an aspect of yourself needs to be set free.  The fairy is also symbolic of your soul and the feminine qualities and aspects of yourself.

From what I can recall, not long after our meeting I asked the fairy back to my place. She agreed. I asked her if she knew where it was, to which she replied that it was the room where “the enchanted lady lives”. Then she flew straight to my room, faster than I could run.

This episode raises a few questions: Who is the enchanted lady? Is it me? And what does that mean?

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Published in: on January 2, 2010 at 10:25 am  Leave a Comment  

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