I am amused by how our dreams interact with our conscious selves. Last night, I had a dream where I was a ghost and for most of the dream, I assumed I wasn't seen by anyone. I felt neglected and ignored. However, near the end, an old friend of mine approached me and told me that everyone actually does see me, they just haven't been talking to me because they didn't want to be rude and assumed I was busy doing "ghost things." My dream friend's explanation is ridiculous and hilarious of course. But it's a dream, so it's ok.
I didn't think much of this dream initially but then I realized that the day before, I was reading a book where the author was discussing belonging and how people have a need to be seen, heard, and accepted. If such needs aren't met, people feel isolated and rejected. In my dream, this particular passage in the book manifested itself in a pretty interesting way. I assume that me being a ghost symbolizes my feelings about not being heard or seen. Thankfully, the dream ended on a positive note and that's a welcome change from how my dreams usually conclude.
About Me
- Vahagn Karapetyan
- The beginning is perhaps more difficult than anything else, but keep heart, it will turn out all right. -Vincent van Gogh
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Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!