Monday, July 29, 2019

I had an interesting dream last night. I am not sure what triggered this one so I am not going to bother with trying to figure out the potential cause.

I do not recall the circumstances or the context but my dad had a central role to play. He was in some kind of emotional pain and distress. He was crying and I was hugging him. In real life, I don't recall ever hugging my dad and the only times I have seen him cry have been when one of our dogs has passed away.

My brother was there and my mother as well but I don't remember them saying anything. They were both mostly quiet and I was the one doing the talking and explaining what was happening. I don't remember much but I clearly recall uttering the phrase "No.. he must go through this. He must suffer. The emotional pain is necessary. He needs to get through this to grow and transform into a new person."

What I was saying in the dream is likely related to what I have felt in real life. Whenever I have observed close father-son relationships, I have always admired what I saw but I have also been envious because I have never felt genuinely close with my father. We are simply too different in fundamental ways and our worldviews do not match at all. I've had "what if" thoughts about my father and how maybe one day he will grow as a person and we can finally relate and have meaningful interactions. I believe that any substantial transformation of this sort would likely involve the person going through a powerful experience that would trigger notable changes. People don't just change suddenly after they have settled into their long-term patterns. It takes a truly life-changing event to shake someone off the path they are currently on.

In my dream, I assume this transformation was finally happening to my father and I was there helping him through it. At this point, I have lost any hope that my father will change into a better person but I guess my subconscious is still clinging to the idea and it manifested itself in this dream.

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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!

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The beginning is perhaps more difficult than anything else, but keep heart, it will turn out all right. -Vincent van Gogh