So, in this dream I went to bed and went to sleep. I dreampt…inside the dream… that I was watching this person die, they were drowning in their own phlem, coughing and gurgling and stuff.. and eventually they stopped and they were dead. I woke up in the dream after this person died and I was floating away from them back to my bed. I got up and the day started as was normal for the dream world I was in. I had my brother, mum and my step dad from my real life childhood, but we were all friendly and no fights and stuff. My step dad had somehow upgraded the house we used to live in by making everything all modern and shiny and nice. We hadn’t seen it the night before because we had been travelling for a really long time to get back home and we basically got home and went to bed. And we were all walking around the house making noises about how nice the house was, and what nifty little do-hickies he’d put in.. etc etc. when the phone rang. Mum went to answer it but when she came back she was crying and she said that my brother and I’s grandfather had died in the night. Up until that point I thought the dream had just been a dream.. but I realised that I had astralled and visited him and watched him die. My brother started crying and asked when the funeral was, and mum told us and said that she’d put the car through the mechanics and we’d go all the way down back home to go to the funeral (which is a six hour car ride partially over rough country to get to).
I wasn’t really sad about the dead of this person, because he’s.. well… he’s dead to me, he’s the one that… well.. I hate him and will continue to hate him for the rest of his if not my life… and this applies in the real world and any of the dream worlds.
Anyway, people kept asking me if I was alright.. and I was just trying not to laugh, I was glad he was dead and I wasn’t going to cry for the bastard. The journey down south back to my first home town didn’t take long because I fell asleep in the car and woke up just as we were arriving. Mum put us up in a motel even though Nana and my dad offered to put us up at their house, but mum has trouble with my dad’s family as it is.. so we stayed in the motel.
Everyone was so sad. My brother why crying all the time, mum was too at points, all the aunt and uncles.. all the billions of cousins (at last count I think I had nearly 15 cousins just on that side of the family and I’ve got a few more than that on the other side of the family… I think around 30 cousins.. is about a billion)…. every one was crying… there was a few people from the community… and he’d been given some stupid service to the community award… all that bullshit. And everyone kept asking me if I was ok.. why wasn’t I crying? I shouldn’t hold it in.. that it was natural to cry after your grandfather died in such a horrible manner… I just refused to speak because I knew that what I’d say or do would be completely inappropriate. What I wanted to do was dance on the bastards casket.. pee on his grave… spray paint BASTARD on his tombstone and laugh insanely at the fact he suffered for many hours as he slowly drowned death.. and scream that it hadn’t been an awful enough death for such an evil little man. But I kept my mouth shut and didn’t do any of it.
After the funeral, mum took us up to Auckland to see the museum.. she thought I was really upset so she wanted to take me to my favourite place in the whole world. I did as I always do… I went up to the top floor to find the Katana that I love so much and the Samurai armour… I found it.. but on my way back down when it was time to leave I got a little lost.. and then there was a huge wave that somehow came into the building and it was slowly filling the museum up. I wasn’t really scared, I just kept running up the stairs while people around me were screaming and drowning, I somehow knew how to get up onto the roof… when the water washed away, people were beating their chests and just freaking out and stuff… I just walked back down through the museum looking for my family, who were alive.. wet.. but alive… and the water had broken the case of my Katana set, and there were looters stealing other exhibits. I lifted up the blades and took them with me to protect them from the looters… I went outside with my family to wait for the curator of the museum so I could make sure the blades were given back to him.
I was waking up as we were standing outside, me real calm holding onto the beautiful blades protectively as everyone else was scared and crying out and … just… stupidly freaking out…
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I’m not sure about all of the meaning of this dream. I woke up feeling kind of disturbed… kind of alone. But now I look back at the symbolism, I think it might have been a good dream in it’s meaning… The whole time *I* was in control of myself and my surroundings. The bit about my grandad dying as I kind of hope he eventually dies (he has emphasemia.. so unless something else gets him before then.. he will eventually drown in his own phlem)… I’m pretty sure there is more in there than I’m aware of… there’s always more in there with those dreams.. but… even in that part… everyone else around me was being overly dramatic and sad and emotional… and I was in control.. I wanted to express how I really was feeling but I wasn’t going to because I didn’t want to… I was in control of my words and my actions. The museum.. was the flood/tsunami dream that I have so often… but I wasn’t stressing about anything, I knew exactly what was needed to be done and I did it.. and more improtantly I didn’t save anyone.. I wasn’t worried about anything.. even those who were going to die int he flood… and that sounds like a bad thing… but in my dreams its not… it says to me that I’m finally thinking of myself first, and that’s something I’ve never done… and the water symbolises my depths… I wasn’t afraid of the water, I knew exactly how to stop it from drowning me.. which means that I know how not to be overwhelmed by my inner forces…. the whole dream seemed to be about me finding my own self control and using that control to do what I felt was right.
So… even thouogh i woke up feeling a little disturbed afterwards… I think it was actually a good sign. And I might have been disturbed by my flare of hate towards my dads father… that I really did want him to die like that… *shrug*