Tequila/Monk

Dream (nightmare) of a serial killer

June 4, 2010

Geez, I don't know where dreams come from, but times like this morning, I wish they'd stop.

Warning

Okay, okay, I've already received two emails about this post, so to emphasize the point even more: THE FOLLOWING POST IS ABOUT A DREAM I HAD THIS MORNING, AND IT'S VERY GRAPHIC AND DISTURBING. It made me want to throw up, and I had to live through it last night. Please don't read any more if you can't stomach it. You already saw the title, maybe that's all you need to know.

Before describing this dream, as I've told people before, and I'll repeat it again here, this blog is all about being honest. Nothing on here is a fabrication. This blog is about truth, and about logging events, so I can attempt to understand what happens in dreams, lucid dreams, OBEs, and in other cases, things like Zen meditation.

You've been warned. The next paragraph begins a description of this dream.

The dream

This morning (there is no “last night,” as I rarely go to sleep before 1am now) I had a dream of being a serial killer. As the dream begins, I have a woman tied in a chair, her head covered in some sort of cloth material. (I know it’s a woman, but I have no idea who it is.) There’s something about either a silver or metallic thing with her mouth, but I don’t know exactly what that is. As an observer of the dream I try to make it out, but I lose the ability to observe, as I am also the mentality of the serial killer. As I lose the observer state, I’m talking, getting more and more angry, and then, in some sort of rage, I grab the woman’s head, doing something like pulling down on her jaw, and then end up breaking her neck in my rage.

Almost immediately after killing her, I grieve over having done this, again. I know I’ve done this before, though I can’t recall how many times I’ve done it. I’m angry at myself now, because I can’t stop doing this, and I chastise myself for being weak and letting this happen again. Then I think of how horrible it will be when I’m caught, of how ashamed I’ll be when my my family learns of everything I’ve done, and I begin to cry.

And then, in an instant, my mood changes, and I begin coldly planning of how to dispose of the body.

And then I wake up.

After the dream

To say that I didn’t want to go back to sleep was an understatement. I got up, read for a while, surfed the internet, and then had to get up early this morning to take my car in for some transmission work.

The thing about this dream is that there is nothing I can recall from the last 48 hours that would account for this dream. As I’ve written here before, many times dreams are a direct reflection of something that has happened within the last 36 hours, but I can’t think of anything I’ve done that would have led to this dream. I’ll I've done lately is work, listen to music, go grocery shopping, and go out to buy a gyros sandwich.

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