Figured I'd start a fresh thread inviting people to share recent dreams, especially if relating to autumn or its' archetypal theme (the process of death, decay). This thread moves a little slowly but it seemed silly to dedicate an entire thread to one post/dream. So, please share your recent dreams. They'll probably be more spoopy considering the season and recent events, damn the world's crazy these days!
Anyways -- I had a striking dream a few nights ago. I don't often remember everything from dreams, or don't have a recollection for it the way people sometimes can. But I really wanted to put this one to words. I was somewhat in the middle of a meaningless dream when it began to have heightened meaning and awareness. I had been wondering in a town and ended up on a side that was haunted. All I can say is that I've had an emotional atmosphere throughout my life that would pop up in dreams, where people would either empty out of a previous setting, or a different type of person present would be generally uncommunicative or preoccupied by their subjective context. I've always described these as "haunted dreams." They always stick out. This was an interesting, nostalgic large developed town / city that as i approached the other side dialed back in time, emptied but you knew what was there had.. objectively fuarrrked up history. not dangerous necessarily but trauma invites trauma, as any rational person using both street and book smarts will tell you. I find myself in a wooden shop, closed down and empty, I'm playing a 12 string guitar for a second, an old coworker is in the background. I prop the guitar up standing off the ground against a counter. It slides, drops, the head breaks off and the tension of the strings pulls the head back, its fuarrrked, broken completely (something that happened to me in highschool after getting an acoustic for the first time. an incredibly disappointing moment, but I guess the following is how my mind filed away that moment, so this is a placeholder from a smaller archetype of a situation) I was trying to tell my coworker how mistakes dont matter, they are there for all people training all skills in a craft in the real world all the time, they are facts of life but she has her back turned and won't hear it. -- my interpretation and it seems important because it is linked to stuff later. Basically, my coworker is an every person, who would only here a certain perspective of me because it was archetypal of my character in her mind, scapegoated to support ones' own story because that is always easier, humans can believe any given sentence or thesis they want in social situations. The kind of person that prefers a media truth to a whole truth.
My dreams clip sometimes, the next thing I know I'm watching these two dudes walking around the perimeter of a graveyard above the edge of this town. They seem bound by that family, old friend history curse, addicted to repeating the same oppositional arguments at each other forever. My brain narration intuits this is a civil war cemetery. One guy circulates the lot, the second is older by a few years, this number alone is his minds justification for denying co-habitation in leadership in a community. All of a sudden, the graves on the perimeter are, the first guy is noticing, dug up. The point is that the second guy is too busy looking at his image, getting distracted by his internet image (rw metaphor, i know, i'm insufferable) to even focus on a supernatural event that is occurring. My brain at this point just intuits that civil war era caskets have been been body snatched to keep others' lives' going. At this point the earth splits up and my perspective as.. like, like a movie screen (love this kind of language), is perceiving multiple perspectives. The two humans' bodies born but unaware of the constant, truly eternal blood cycle cost of evolution, because they are distracted by the narrative of their lives, are walking around the graveyard, while their consciousnesses are coming out of hell. hell to me is represented in real life by the mandatory bloodcost of evolution because it begins with no awaredness and slowly builds, seemingly and hopefully by its' own volition. An abstraction, a distraction by proxy of what is in front of you. The mistakes and painful events that etch information into genetics. The world of disorder progressing towards order within an incubator, meaning hopefully through one out of 30 attempts. Humankind's backstory, proof in the pudding. If we're about to kill ourselves as a species, then the universe does pop up by some other force, be it most likely and possibly, a carnivorous past. But we became omnivore because meat causes cancer -- a rare rule of ethics being etched into the rules of nature. Or possibly it's more like a logical stop-gap required to prevent objectively unethical life form communities from taking over, the warring ones, from developing past a certain point -- Long story short, our species, have the choice to get over petty history, purge objectively fuarrrked up histories which, as all wheels of blood demand, require the winning of wars by killing. So, getting back to the story, these two spirits spiral through dirt, as cracks open up and lives defined by stratified belief chose to climb out of their graves, seeing their perspectives raped. The two humans' perspectives continue to travel in spirals through the dirt around their bodies, and eventually enter their bodies. their consciousnesses energy quantumly fused dirt to their bodies, and they continue to barf up dirt (like ron weasley lol), but are able to talk over it. The second guy is like this part always forces us to die and start over. The first guy remarks, "that's the game."
I also wanted to add that it could come across as if i'm talking about people i hate from the past or something, I'm not, the people in these stories are there are just my brain distilling down archetypes for the sake of telling a story. I feel completely indifferent towards their fates because the universe just keeps repeating on its own, that is what I believe at least.