The One Hundred and Fortieth Post: The One Where I Tell You About A Dream I Had Last Night…

OK – I’m driving in a SUV in the desert (not the deserts of Arabia, more like the badlands of Arizona or New Mexico… or Fyrestone) and I come across a crashed Concorde Jet that landed mere feet from my house (which ends up being put together like the house I grew up in). As I look out the window and marvel that my house isn’t on fire, I watch people pick through the wreckage. Obviously disturbed by this, I go out and confront the people on the plane. As I walk out the door, I see that someone has set up a table with various things on it – blankets, books and whatever else could be salvaged. I see a police officer and point out the table to him. I ask him if he thinks this is right – given it’s a plane crash that needs to be contained and investigated. The officer looks over the table and the crash and tells me: “We not only allow it, heck – we encourage it.” That’s when I woke up. The most interesting interpretation will be posted here.

My interpretation? Let’s take a look at what we we’re starting from: the badlands. A hard place to be, also a lonely place to live in for any length of time – it would be nice for me, is only it were a little cooler. The Concorde crash? The thing I remember the most is that there were no bodies. So the crash I guess is a representation of something foreign coming into my life – especially that it’s a Concorde and you can’t get more foreign than that type of plane. People picking through the wreckage and the table? Maybe that’s how my subconscious works – picking through the dross of my experiences and producing something. I guess my indignation about this is just that fact that I am somewhat uncomfortable about the process. I would much rather have everything buried deep away somewhere, or better yet – just plain forgotten. The cop? The Freudian concept of the ego in an easily recognized form telling me that this is not only good, but preferred above other means (whatever those other means are). At the end of the dream, shortly before I wake up, I approach the table. I might put this up on a different site or two. It’s rare that my dreams linger this long after I wake up, so maybe having a second set of eyes on it might yield some other interpretations.

Well – no writing to report here given that it is Christmas week. Today, I expect a lot of calls at work, but if I want to get that Christmas pay, I have to show up today. Meh. At least I’m not going to worry about lunch and have a good dinner when I get home. Maybe a week is what I could use to get myself back on track.


Off to shower away the Christmas cheer. Have a good day all.



Seething Apathy

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