bloody dreams

a few nights ago i dreamt i had to walk home in a pair of jeans and a sheet wrapped around my torso. it felt similar to the dreams i have where i’m naked and have to get home with dignity intact.

the streets were actually hallways like the ones in my old highschool, only dingy and rather post-apocalyptic. the ceilings were falling down and there were sparking wires hanging all over the place. the air was difficult to see through, like it was smoky.

all i knew was that i had to get my sword to survive the walk home. only, my sword WAS at home. so i was walking straight and purposeful, my head held high. i passed groups of people gathered in the corners. my apartment was up a ladder through a doorway to a classroom. i climbed up and got my sword and when i got back down, i had to fight the clusters of people. they had no weapons, but they were in groups of at least five or six.

I unsheathed verdigris [my sword. i name things, dun judge.] and started wailing on them and i woke up mid-slash. i was clutching my pillow and breathing fast, sweat pouring off my skin.

what to dreams of unspeakable violence mean, anyway? am i repressed? do i need to start taking fencing lessons? or better yet, boxing?

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3 thoughts on “bloody dreams

  1. you know, i have my own dream sword too, but i’m afraid to tell anyone. i’m a guy, and i don’t want anyone drawing freudian conclusions. still, i have exciting action dreams where i save the world (and the girl) from zombies or ninja clans. i think you’ve inspiried me to give mine a name, too.

  2. oh, but verdigris is a real sword, too! she’s a katana and i put her together myself. one of these days i’m going to take a knife-making class, and then progress to swords. because, dude.

  3. wow if you find a knife-making class in baltimore, let me know. the sword in my dreams is a huge 2-handed deal. and no, i did not play dungeons and dragons as a kid.

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