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Jul. 1st, 2007 12:40 amMy dreams are fabulous. More than once I've wished I could draw the things I see in my dreams--singing waves, gulls' wings on bridges suspended over air, rocks made of the sky--so that I could keep them forever.
At other times, I have incredibly detailed plotted dreams that I want to write down. I once had a dream that there was this handmade, tiny castle made by a particular group of people who were the original Norsemen. Anyway, it was sold to a magician and left downstairs while the magician and the seller went to seal the deal. While downstairs it was stolen by a rat (no, a real one), who was forced to leave clues (in poem form!) that we tracked him down by. One such stop was at the beach during twilight when the breaks of the waves turned into faces that sang.
My mind is a very, very weird place.
So last night I had a dream that my friends and I had somehow landed in an alternate dimension of some kind and were stacked in a row on a horse, speeding across the landscape towards a gate surrounding a steep valley. Behind us was another horse with a man clad in white.
We finally escaped, only to encounter a wizard type person at the center of the valley who knocked us out.
When we woke up, the situation was explained to us. People in the society were divided by "pure" and "impurities". Something about aliens, but that part was rather unimportant. Anyway, the pure were higher class citizens, while the impure were treated not quite as slaves, but certainly as lower class citizens. I was one of the impure and my friends and I were separated.
The impure were forced to live in small rooms with another impure, and a pure counselor was assigned to us. They handed out necklaces made of crystal which glowed.
My counselor, a middle-aged, sharply dressed woman named Joanne, cautioned us. "The crystals are for the impure only. If they go out or are broken, come to me immediately to get a replacement." The implication was made that if the impure went too long without such crystals, then the person would die within days.
It was awful.
We were persecuted, living among the impure but so far away, like slaves among the same culture. I saw Chris, who was chosen among the pure, playing video games. I tried explaining to him the differences, but he said I was being ridiculous and that we were treated virtually the same.
We were not forced into labor, but people looked down on us and everything we had was second-class.
At one point, my roommate and I were sitting on a bench staring out at this gorgeous landscaping. There was a stone farmhouse standing there, surrounded by trees dressed in autumn finery. There was a dirt country road leading behind it and around the hills. It should have been perfect.
"I'd like to see where that road goes," I said wistfully, pointing it out to my roommate.
"It looks nice," she agreed. "Why don't you ask permission to walk around there?"
The helplessness of the situation hit me and I began sobbing with frustration. It was impossible to enjoy anything with the yoke of oppression hanging around my neck. My roommate sympathized, but was unable to see what I was trying to illustrate. I felt helpless. No one would listen to me.
On my walk to the cafeteria, I fiddled with my necklace and realized with a start that the crystal had broken. I frowned, suddenly stopping and realizing that I felt fine. No bouts of illness as I would have supposed.
Now, the counsellor hadn't specifically said that I would die straight away--she even implied I had up to a day--but I suddenly felt a burst of interest. What if it was a lie?
Unfortunately, everyone can tell when the impure weren't wearing their necklace, and I hurried through to the counsellor's office.
Once there, I burst through the door to find Joanne and another impure sitting there.
"Your necklace," Joanne said. "We'll have to get that fixed."
"No," I said.
"No? What do you mean no?"
"I mean no! This is a scam! You're keeping the 'impure' down under threats. This is, this is," I stumbled. "Fascism! Why can't you see this? I won't die."
"Not right away," she scoffed.
"Not ever. I'll show you. No one's leaving. I'm going to stay here and prove it."
"You need a new necklace," she said, completely dismissing me.
It culminated in my taking the office hostage and then running into the street where I instigated a rally and jumped up onto a platform, screaming about the scam. No one listened, and I realized with horror that they couldn't have just told people they were going to die if they took the necklace off. No one would have listened. They killed people who didn't wear the necklace to prove it--there was an overwhelming panic in me as I tried to make people see before I was killed.
I wish I could remember more so that I could turn it into a more complete story, but it eludes me. Oh, well. I have to imagine some of it while I'm awake, I suppose.
So, what do you think? Too trite? Would you read it?
At other times, I have incredibly detailed plotted dreams that I want to write down. I once had a dream that there was this handmade, tiny castle made by a particular group of people who were the original Norsemen. Anyway, it was sold to a magician and left downstairs while the magician and the seller went to seal the deal. While downstairs it was stolen by a rat (no, a real one), who was forced to leave clues (in poem form!) that we tracked him down by. One such stop was at the beach during twilight when the breaks of the waves turned into faces that sang.
My mind is a very, very weird place.
So last night I had a dream that my friends and I had somehow landed in an alternate dimension of some kind and were stacked in a row on a horse, speeding across the landscape towards a gate surrounding a steep valley. Behind us was another horse with a man clad in white.
We finally escaped, only to encounter a wizard type person at the center of the valley who knocked us out.
When we woke up, the situation was explained to us. People in the society were divided by "pure" and "impurities". Something about aliens, but that part was rather unimportant. Anyway, the pure were higher class citizens, while the impure were treated not quite as slaves, but certainly as lower class citizens. I was one of the impure and my friends and I were separated.
The impure were forced to live in small rooms with another impure, and a pure counselor was assigned to us. They handed out necklaces made of crystal which glowed.
My counselor, a middle-aged, sharply dressed woman named Joanne, cautioned us. "The crystals are for the impure only. If they go out or are broken, come to me immediately to get a replacement." The implication was made that if the impure went too long without such crystals, then the person would die within days.
It was awful.
We were persecuted, living among the impure but so far away, like slaves among the same culture. I saw Chris, who was chosen among the pure, playing video games. I tried explaining to him the differences, but he said I was being ridiculous and that we were treated virtually the same.
We were not forced into labor, but people looked down on us and everything we had was second-class.
At one point, my roommate and I were sitting on a bench staring out at this gorgeous landscaping. There was a stone farmhouse standing there, surrounded by trees dressed in autumn finery. There was a dirt country road leading behind it and around the hills. It should have been perfect.
"I'd like to see where that road goes," I said wistfully, pointing it out to my roommate.
"It looks nice," she agreed. "Why don't you ask permission to walk around there?"
The helplessness of the situation hit me and I began sobbing with frustration. It was impossible to enjoy anything with the yoke of oppression hanging around my neck. My roommate sympathized, but was unable to see what I was trying to illustrate. I felt helpless. No one would listen to me.
On my walk to the cafeteria, I fiddled with my necklace and realized with a start that the crystal had broken. I frowned, suddenly stopping and realizing that I felt fine. No bouts of illness as I would have supposed.
Now, the counsellor hadn't specifically said that I would die straight away--she even implied I had up to a day--but I suddenly felt a burst of interest. What if it was a lie?
Unfortunately, everyone can tell when the impure weren't wearing their necklace, and I hurried through to the counsellor's office.
Once there, I burst through the door to find Joanne and another impure sitting there.
"Your necklace," Joanne said. "We'll have to get that fixed."
"No," I said.
"No? What do you mean no?"
"I mean no! This is a scam! You're keeping the 'impure' down under threats. This is, this is," I stumbled. "Fascism! Why can't you see this? I won't die."
"Not right away," she scoffed.
"Not ever. I'll show you. No one's leaving. I'm going to stay here and prove it."
"You need a new necklace," she said, completely dismissing me.
It culminated in my taking the office hostage and then running into the street where I instigated a rally and jumped up onto a platform, screaming about the scam. No one listened, and I realized with horror that they couldn't have just told people they were going to die if they took the necklace off. No one would have listened. They killed people who didn't wear the necklace to prove it--there was an overwhelming panic in me as I tried to make people see before I was killed.
I wish I could remember more so that I could turn it into a more complete story, but it eludes me. Oh, well. I have to imagine some of it while I'm awake, I suppose.
So, what do you think? Too trite? Would you read it?
