Kevin's Watch

I've died in my dreams about 100 times. So the falasy that you can die if you dream you die is just that a falsehood.

In one dream, I was dead, & I knew I was dead. I was in a small room, perhaps the size of a common living room. Only this was a basement. The cement blocks suggested such.

Two demons were in the room with me, ancient beings, angels that had fallen to the darkside. They had my body on an operating table, but no, come to think of it, it was more like a dentists chair, but only it was set so that I felt like it was a table, horizonal.

They placed a spiked plate above & below my head. The spikes were several inches long & the plate was about the size of my face, and there were perhaps 20 spikes to each plate.

I realized then that I didn't have my body attached to my head. One of the demons grabbed my hair and the other my neckmeat from which my body had been removed. That demon held onto veins, arteries, flesh, and bone. They smiled at each other & it all began.

They rapidly flung my head between the plates and I could feel all of the pain. The sound was like chunk chunk chunk chunk. And I wanted to vomit, but I didn't have a stomach.

This continued for quite awhile until my face was hamburger and it began to sound quieter, but they had to pull my face meat from the upper spike so instead of clunk clunk, it was clunk slush, clunk slush.

Eventually they tired, but even though I had no eyes left, I could still see. One of the demons removed the upper face plate & put his own face there instead. He laughed as my face hit his & his bony features never changed from the mush that my face had become, except only that it grew bloody.

They tired of that game eventually too & by then my head was like an apple core & the other demon roared as he moved my head around rapidly in rage and then drop kicked it into a corner.

I woke up.

Uh, I'm trying to think of how to respond. Either:

A)

or

B)

or

C)

I think I'll choose C! heh . . . I've never died in a dream, strangely. Something always saves me--whether it's breaking the laws of physics to do it or just plain being lucky. I dunno why it's like that for me.

Anyway, I could list so many weird dreams of mine it'd be ridiculous. I did have a dream last night, though, where I was speaking in tongues or something--some ancient language like Aramaic. Me and another person in the dream were. Aside from that weirdness, the dream was set in some faraway, snow-covered woods, and it was all about this serial killer who could wear something to make him invisible.

At the climax of the dream, the invisible murderer walked right in front of a cop car parked in the snow. A couple of cops were standing there and my grandmother was facing the hood of the car, about ten feet away from it, her back turned as the invisible killer dude walked up to her. I thought her was going to go for her, and I wanted to scream but couldn't. I often have little control of my dreams. It's like a virtual reality slideshow. Anyway, the killer luckily went right past my grandmother, and it was then I realized that I, for some reason, could plainly see him but nobody else could. At that point I gained control of my feet and I ran up to the dude and just started slashing his face with a kitchen knife or something. Hard to remember.

Then I woke up. The second I woke up I knew I had dreamt something, but I couldn't remember a single bloody detail. Only until about 30 minutes later did it return to me. It's funny, cause that's happened to me before. I read somewhere that the only dreams you remember are the ones you just wake up from. I also read everyone dreams at least 3 dreams a night, and it's how the brain sort of runs a "system scan" on itself, to make sure all the bells and whistles are fully functioning.

I have died many a time in my dreams. It is always wonderful, darkness, numbness and then slowly I start dreaming again about something else. It is always very conscious, and I am always the one killing myself. It feels like amazing release. Has anyone read the death principle by Sigmund Freud? I never finished it, but would be interesting to have a thread discussing it; sex and death, death and sex...I shall go back and read it ASAP

edinburghemma wrote:I have died many a time in my dreams. It is always wonderful, darkness, numbness and then slowly I start dreaming again about something else. It is always very conscious, and I am always the one killing myself. It feels like amazing release. Has anyone read the death principle by Sigmund Freud? I never finished it, but would be interesting to have a thread discussing it; sex and death, death and sex...I shall go back and read it ASAP

heh, me too

You call that a nightmare, Zeph? You think you're grossing us out while showing us how tortured you are? Gimme a break. You didn't stay asleep long enough to get the doctor's bill. Couldn't handle it, could you? Wimp.

Reading that description actually made me slightly queasy... If you really did dream that, I don't want to know what's going on in your unconscious mind

My own nightmares are few and far between. I dream (or remember my dreams) quite regularly, but they're usually just random, a hotchpotch of whatever happens to have been on my mind that day. When I do have nightmares, they tend to be more of the subtle, chilling kind...you know, being followed in the dark by someone silent with blank, staring eyes. Pretty standard stuff, really. I did once have a nightmare where I was running across a field, being chased by Michael Myers in a jeep with a bazooka He wanted to scalp me . But, as is often the case with my nightmares, as it became more frightening, I gradually gained the ability to control it (I forget the technical term for this). So I don't think he ever caught me, thankfully. I've certainly never died in a dream.

It's call lucid dreaming Cov and why did he have a bazooka if he just wanted to scalp you? That's just crazy!

One of the stranger dreams I had (heh), was when I got off the city bus near my house behind a couple of men in dark suits. They had sunglasses, ties, nice shoes, they were men in black, but without the comedy. These guys were obvious government, which is why I was so stunned when they walked right to my house.

My sister answered the door & they seemed unaware or perhaps uncaring that I was behind them. Before long they were giving my sister a difficult time and I wasn't too happy about it. So I stepped up & I said, "That's enough, I think it's time you guys took a hike, get outta here."

One of the men turned to me, pulled out a gun, and replied, "No, you get outta here."

And he pulled the trigger. I was shocked by the audacity of these men. But that was the last thought I had. I was just quick enough to have that one thought and then the world went black. I felt my body crumple to the ground, heard my sister screaming, but it was fading, everything was fading.

Simultaneously, I was also able to watch this scene play out fdrom a 3rd person perspective from the time the gun came out until the darkness became complete. I saw the gun, I saw my sister reaching out, screaming a long no as she tried to get to the gun, I saw the huge flame pop out of the pistol. I saw my body pushed back a foot or so. I saw a blood eruption shoot almost a yard out behind my head. I was shot right in the head. The scene began to fade as my body fell limp along the side of the house where the others stood & my sister was crying out, yelling at the men. I remember feeling helpless, helpless to help my sister. The scene faded.

For a few moments more, I was in the blackness, the nothing. No senses, no hearing, just a blank empty darkness.

Then I woke up. That was my favorite part of the dream. "And then I woke up." Because sometimes dreams are a little too vivid. And sometimes people are in the wrong place at the wrong time & do get shot, just like that. I've been mugged, car-jacked, chased, had rocks thrown at me a few times, heard gun shots many times, and everyone reads the papers. All you have to do is walk down the street & you can get gunned down. Step across the lines & go to the wrong neighborhood and you're sure to be noticed and not with admiration. So when I woke up, I sighed, another day was given me. Too bad I squandered it away like most of the rest.

I had a dream just like that, except I looked land dressed like Matrixman, I dodged the bullets in slow-mo, and kicked their asses. Turns out that they weren't MIB after all, just a window washer and a rent-a-cop. Also, it wasn't my sister watching; it was Salma Hayak. I won't tell you the details of what we did after that, but it was spectacular.

That's pretty deep stuff in terms of how one interprets it. Without knowing you, I hesitate to provide ideas and counsel on its significance.

Best of luck on your dream quest, Zeph. You are worthy of it.

'Chainlink

Chainlink wrote:Best of luck on your dream quest, Zeph. You are worthy of it.

Are you saying that Zeph deserves, or is seeking out, these dreams? I would hope not, in either case. Zeph, I hope your faith in Jesus will free you from these nightmares, and I will pray for this outcome.

Oh worry not. These are older dreams. But they left such an impression on me that I've never forgotten. I'm more at peace with myself now.