Bizarre Dream
Posted by harlan on 23 Apr 2008 at 09:39 am | Tagged as: talking to the void
I had a strange dream last night about Richard. (No, crazed sex fiends, it wasn’t an erotic dream.) For those of you who don’t know, Richard and I shared an office at the last place I worked, and he holds the distinction of being one of the only – if not the only – person who doesn’t wear me out during a conversation. In fact, talking to him actually gives me energy instead of making me feel drained.
We must have had a falling out because we haven’t spoken in more than a month.
In this dream, Richard and I were standing at a bus stop. There were a few scattered trees on the sidewalk behind the bus stop, and all of a sudden a bunch of wild animals broke out from behind the trees and rushed at us. We ran. In real life, of course, tigers and bears and gorillas would have easily caught us, but in dream world, they ran at our speed.
We ducked into a flower shop and tried to hide behind a table full of roses. The animals burst in and continued their pursuit. We ran back out on the street and Richard jumped down into an open manhole. I followed. And so did the wild animals, which had grown in both size and strangeness as the dream went on.
After some frustrating bureaucratic delay, Richard and I managed to buy subway tickets and get on an underground train. (Apparently, in this strange dream city, the sewage and subway systems are interconnected.) I thought we had escaped the animals, but sure enough, wild boars and fanged giraffes and mountain goats chased in hot pursuit.
The subway train somehow transformed into a locomotive that soared over and through mountains. Richard and I ran towards the back of the train, which was more like a submarine inside.
I climbed on top of the train and ran. As I turned around, I saw that wild animals had caught Richard. He shouted for me to help him. I froze. I actually tried to go back to help, but my feet seemed to be stuck to the top of the train car. The monster animals pulled Richard down off the top of the train and next to a swimming pool surrounded by palm trees.
When I was finally able to move again, I jumped off the train, tumbled, and searched frantically for Richard. When I found him, he was lying face down in blood. The animals were gone.
When I turned Richard over, he was my father.
I guess this just confirms your longing for Steve Irwin the Crocodile Hunter.
This was like Alice in Wonderland meets Harry Potter with a James Bond twist. What were you smoking? And, more importantly, can I have some? As for the Richard falling out thing, have you spoken to him since Bertha’s projectile eel rolls made you cry at sushi? Maybe he thinks you hate him. Or maybe Bertha has been telling him the sordid details of your love affair. Send him an email. Everyone knows that dreaming about the death of a friend or loved one means that you’re feeling disconnected from them. Although, I guess if he’s reading this blog, perhaps he’ll call you. Richard, call H please! He’s got some ’shrooms he wants to share with you.
After that, do you still think therapy is such a bad idea? I think there was enough in that dream to generate sufficient medical fees to pay the college tuition for the children of a whole team of psychotherapists.
dreams are interesting to the dreamer.
I had a dream like that once, but when I turned the guy over he was Ethel Merman.
hope your dreams are nicer tonight.
My opinion: The nature of dreams have nothing to do with needing therapy. Why is needing therapy constantly being brought up? It’s a dream, not something you carved into the bathroom wall. Or someone’s face.
Sounds to me like you’re feeling overwhelmed, yet powerless to help yourself.
and then you shouted, “YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER” at dead-richard/dad, right?
You don’t want to go to a professional but you’re willing to open up your mind to a bunch of strangers to poke around. That’s logical. I’m glad no one tried to analyze you (or posted their scientific findings at least) and if they do, I hope you don’t take it seriously.
Dream-wise, I got nothing. Just envy that you dream so wildly and then remember it.
Richard-wise, I got something. You guess there’s been a falling out? That’s making assumptions about what he’s thinking, and that’s the path to hell-in-your-head my friend. Call the man. Ask him how he’s been. Do not assume.
Interesting. I have very vivid dreams.
I don’t know about your relationship with your father, did you let it drift away? Or did he? Do you feel like you lost your chance with him?
Because if you haven’t talked to Richard in awhile, you need to call him. Don’t let him drift away from you or get dragged away so you feel alone.
Call him.
Geez, H, even I can’t figure this dream out. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. my favorite was the fanged giraffe.
Lyricist Marsha Norman once said, “Dreams are illustrations… from the book your soul is writing about you.” You’re a logical guy, Harlan. Does that sound as much like a load of crap to you as it does to me?
Since Mandy pre-empted any scientific findings, I figured debunking some grandiloquent ditz like Ms. Norman was the next best thing.
Ms. Norman’s quote sounds like something Bertha would come up with.
One way to interpret a dream is to consider every character in it to be a certain aspect of your own personality.
H- just in case you’ve forgotten, it’s Wednesday, aka hump day. So lock your doors unless you want the Beast bustin’ in and using you for sex. (Before I started reading your blog, that was a pretty cool fantasy. Now I have pepper spray and a Mastiff.)
I would interpret your dream as sexual angst. The wild animals being sexual animals trying to chase you and your friend Richard is the one that hooked you up with Bertha so he is your ally against the animals…who are btw women. Sounds like they almost got you and ate you up. LOL. Richard must have fulfilled a fatherly role. Email Richard. Let him know what your side of the equation is. Maybe he can find another animal for you. Glad to not hear anything about you still loving Bertha. Men tend to fall in love with the first woman they sleep with. Not a good thing sometimes. Good luck!
DeLurking Psychologist
I don’t have to out run the bear, I only have to out run you!!!
FK
Was he really your Dad when you rolled Richard over or are you just pulling our leg?
Bertha a monsterous animal? Not a very imaginative dream.
read through them all, it seems like Susanna nailed that dream pretty much. But yea definetly get in touch with your friend.
So, your father is a dead homosexual friend?
But seriously, I have never had very interesting dreams, especially not any like that. Of course, I’m not a very creative person. Hell, I’m boring. I mean, Harlan’s life is more exciting than mine!
Maybe in the end, Richard is your father. But I wouldn’t take anything from that dream, maybe drink to forget (which, by the way, doesn’t work).
Remember that post you did where you gave us your tips on writing a “good” blog? And then you also kind of itemized the timeline of demise for the millions of “bad” blogs out there? I thought your Bad Blog Timeline was so right-on. You said:
“You’re just going to write five posts. The first will be a “hello world” post. The second will be a “the weirdest thing happened to me” post, and was the reason you started writing your blog in the first place. The third post will be a questionaire type post where you ask your nonexistant readers about something, because you’re praying that someone will answer. The fourth post will be a “not much happening today” post, the fifth post will be a “sorry I haven’t written in a while” post. There will be no sixth post. Commit to it or don’t do it.”
I think the “I had this crazy dream list night” post falls somewhere between the second and third post on your timeline here.
I’m just saying.
I’d put it at no. 4, “not much happening today,” Crackjob. Or maybe that was the laundry post.
Author is due for a bute. I’m sure he/she is conjuring up a whopper.