I was in a bucolic landscape which I deemed Scotland. The sun was setting, and the air was clean but slightly hazy, as though everything was just slightly out of focus. There was a large gathering of people, all getting ready to work. There was a man I liked, who liked me in turn.
I ran up a hill, and people laughed and yelled that I would be tired. But I didn't get tired. I charged up the hill in a chubby person's gait, yet I felt exhilarated. I tumbled down the other side of the hill and landed just shy of some mud. The man I liked (I never gave him a name), followed me down the hill, and landed in the mud. I laughed and laughed, and while at first he thought I was being mean, he quickly realized I was just happy, and he started laughing as well.
The group (I guess they'd be a Clan) kept moving, through fields of tall wheat. The sun had set and a bright night followed. I spoke with the Man in gentle conversation, and we were both full of flirty witticisms. Then the work began.
I was standing near some bleachers where two African American women sat. They were commenting on the Man, and how sexy he was. I agreed, and in a third person way I knew I was supposed to be jealous, or protective, but I wasn't. Work continued, and as I walked around I realized I was no longer in the Highlands. I was in a sort of dark warehouse, industrial. There were children's rooms - like a giant, abandoned children's daycare. The group was here too, but they seemed more concerned with moving forward than staying and working.
I found a young girl there - she was grubby looking. I told her we'd get some clothes for her, and started walking.
Not too far in the distance, I saw a lit room filled with a ball pit. In the ball pit were the Man and one of the women from the bleachers. They were having frantic sex with each other, and my stomach dropped down further in my guts. I turned and led the girl away so that she wouldn't see them. But the Man and the bleacher's woman saw me. She was unashamed, but got dressed when the Man did. They both followed after me.
The woman got confrontational, demanding to know if I wanted to fight, how nothing was her fault, taunting me about what she'd done. The Man did not apologize - he didn't want me telling the rest of the group.
I walked on in silence in total melancholy.
----
That's how I woke up - I felt completely defeated. This has got to be one of my least favorite dreams of late. Not a nightmare - no fear, no unease, just a profound sadness. I'm not sure which is worse, having wrote that. Perhaps waking up feeling depressed is worse than waking up scared, because it stays with you in a different part of your brain.
Why did my dream start of so wonderfully? And why did my subconscious betray me like that and leave me to wake up sad at my imaginary boyfriend, at a loss I've never experienced?
I ran up a hill, and people laughed and yelled that I would be tired. But I didn't get tired. I charged up the hill in a chubby person's gait, yet I felt exhilarated. I tumbled down the other side of the hill and landed just shy of some mud. The man I liked (I never gave him a name), followed me down the hill, and landed in the mud. I laughed and laughed, and while at first he thought I was being mean, he quickly realized I was just happy, and he started laughing as well.
The group (I guess they'd be a Clan) kept moving, through fields of tall wheat. The sun had set and a bright night followed. I spoke with the Man in gentle conversation, and we were both full of flirty witticisms. Then the work began.
I was standing near some bleachers where two African American women sat. They were commenting on the Man, and how sexy he was. I agreed, and in a third person way I knew I was supposed to be jealous, or protective, but I wasn't. Work continued, and as I walked around I realized I was no longer in the Highlands. I was in a sort of dark warehouse, industrial. There were children's rooms - like a giant, abandoned children's daycare. The group was here too, but they seemed more concerned with moving forward than staying and working.
I found a young girl there - she was grubby looking. I told her we'd get some clothes for her, and started walking.
Not too far in the distance, I saw a lit room filled with a ball pit. In the ball pit were the Man and one of the women from the bleachers. They were having frantic sex with each other, and my stomach dropped down further in my guts. I turned and led the girl away so that she wouldn't see them. But the Man and the bleacher's woman saw me. She was unashamed, but got dressed when the Man did. They both followed after me.
The woman got confrontational, demanding to know if I wanted to fight, how nothing was her fault, taunting me about what she'd done. The Man did not apologize - he didn't want me telling the rest of the group.
I walked on in silence in total melancholy.
----
That's how I woke up - I felt completely defeated. This has got to be one of my least favorite dreams of late. Not a nightmare - no fear, no unease, just a profound sadness. I'm not sure which is worse, having wrote that. Perhaps waking up feeling depressed is worse than waking up scared, because it stays with you in a different part of your brain.
Why did my dream start of so wonderfully? And why did my subconscious betray me like that and leave me to wake up sad at my imaginary boyfriend, at a loss I've never experienced?
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Thank you for your thoughts! Hopefully they aren't spammish, dirty, mean-spirited or ignorant.