10996a dream for Karta, on resisting emotions?
- Sep 30, 2003Hello, Karta, I have read your posts, and other posts about emotion,
I have talked to a friend about dreams of disaster (specifically, her
own disasters as related to water), and have associated water with
emotive and creative energy. So, rather than reply to your posts in
the typical manner, instead I will share a portion of a dream I had
last night. You might try imagining that it is "your" dream, as well,
and what this dream might represent for you.
We have gathered for a competition along the edges of a rocky basin.
I am not a competitor, but have an organizing role in the event. My
parents stand with many others on the far edge of the basin, watching
and idly waiting for the competition to begin. I stand on a raw earth
ramp into the basin with several of the barely-clad competitors. One
of them, a man, pulls a small stone from the wall of the basin with
his toes. The stone comes free with a cork-popping noise and a
trickle of incredibly clear water. The water begins to flow from the
cracks between adjacent stones, and the flow becomes a torrent. I am
running down the ramp and across the broad basin, as it fills with
water. Even though the water is pure and clear, I am filled with fear
and the thought that I must get away. The water is rising as I
scramble up the sheer face of the far wall of the basin, reaching up
at the last minute for hands to pull me over the edge into the crowd.
I explain to my parents that we must run to retrieve our things from
our fourth floor room before the basin fills and the weight of the
water cracks this floor, the sixth floor, sending it crashing down
through the building. We run, trying to find out way, but we are
lost... then I am lost with strangers... in a shopping mall, on a
people-mover on the streets of an amalgam of Los Angeles and Las
Vegas, then in a hotel district full of dark, cartoonish Venturi-
Scott-Brown buildings, surrounded by a lagoon... I am still trying
desperately to make my way back, willing the people-mover to take me
faster... but now I am hopelessly lost in the city of gangs, I am
latino, I am a man, and I am standing in the courtyard of a Mexican
restaurant, and a man is proposing to me from the side of a fountain.
The water is so clear and pure. I cannot accept his proposal, it
sickens me; then we are both in the water, and as it conceals us from
the ears of others, I yell through the water, which displays the
force of my words by rippling and waving, "I am not that! I do not
want that!" We are out of the water, he is telling me I cannot deny
it, and points to a stack of plastic-bottles filled with very clear
water wrapped in plastic. I look. The brand says: Emitalittle,
Emotelite, Emetalyte, the letters bend.
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