Friday, April 30, 2004
Survival
I had another zombie dream. This one's murkier, but I do remember that the zombies were people I knew, though who exactly is unclear (like if you see someone you know is famous but can't place them). I speared them with metal beams. Right through the chest and face. It didn't phase me. Just felt like survival. Ripped from Lord of the Flies, I suppose. Well, you know, except for the zombie part. It's weird how certain stories just stick in your mind, no matter how vague the details (my memories of reading that book are more about bullshitting my way through Mr. Currie's quizzes than anything else). If I was in college taking one of my more interesting English classes, I might use this to write a paper about how the mythological roots of modern stories reside in our subconscious. But I'm not in college. I'm in a law firm, faxing stuff. Which brings me to this point:
I think I'm getting dumber.
Anyway, I'm taking this dream as a sign of maturity. Got to survive and let stuff go and get on in the world. 'Cause when I woke up, I didn't feel panicked. Kinda grossed out, but not scared. Airy, actually. A lightness of mind. For the first time in a long time. Not bad, huh? It only took 26 years and a dream about brain-eating creatures.
Being ridiculously in love helps, too.
I had another zombie dream. This one's murkier, but I do remember that the zombies were people I knew, though who exactly is unclear (like if you see someone you know is famous but can't place them). I speared them with metal beams. Right through the chest and face. It didn't phase me. Just felt like survival. Ripped from Lord of the Flies, I suppose. Well, you know, except for the zombie part. It's weird how certain stories just stick in your mind, no matter how vague the details (my memories of reading that book are more about bullshitting my way through Mr. Currie's quizzes than anything else). If I was in college taking one of my more interesting English classes, I might use this to write a paper about how the mythological roots of modern stories reside in our subconscious. But I'm not in college. I'm in a law firm, faxing stuff. Which brings me to this point:
I think I'm getting dumber.
Anyway, I'm taking this dream as a sign of maturity. Got to survive and let stuff go and get on in the world. 'Cause when I woke up, I didn't feel panicked. Kinda grossed out, but not scared. Airy, actually. A lightness of mind. For the first time in a long time. Not bad, huh? It only took 26 years and a dream about brain-eating creatures.
Being ridiculously in love helps, too.
