dream analysis

The Military Dream

In this dream, I was in a high-rise apartment or office building on an upper floor. It was dark, and I was there with a bunch of other people, none of whom I recognized. We were part of some military group, and we had some assignment or mission to carry out. We were putting on military gear, camouflage and helmets. Everyone else had rifles, but when I think back, I didn’t. After we got all our gear on, we stood hidden at the windows waiting for some even to occur.

Eventually, it did, and we all started running downstairs to go outside. But I discovered as I was running, that I had forgotten my socks and shoes. I had to stop, go back and put them on, and try to catch up. By the time I got outside, everyone else was already in place. Then I woke up.

If I had to interpret, I’d say this dream was motivated by my fear of falling behind, and my fear of losing track of the details…

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HTML Mark-Up Dream

If you remember the movie Fantasia, or even better, the movie they showed in high school, Donald Duck in MathMagic Land, where Donald was being chased by anthropomorphic numbers, you have some idea what this dream was like.

Basically, it was my job to place appropriate (?!) HTML mark-up tags on everything; i.e. the physical world: doorknobs, light switches, window frames, everything and anything. Don’t ask me what tags went with what; I knew exactly at the time, but I have no idea now. Anyway, I knew that I was way behind, so I was working as quickly as I could. The faster I worked, the more efficient I became until I was moving so fast I was practically flying. I knew I was doing a great job, and I was so thrilled to be doing what I was doing, that I became ruthlessly efficient, and eventually my frenetic pace caused me spontaneously combust into a lightning shower of energy and euphoria, at which time I awoke and realized I had to get up and go to work. Which really pissed me off.

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The Dream Where Prince Died

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In this dream, I found out that Prince had just died, and I was terribly upset, because I felt that we would be lost without his music. We (Me and who else? I don’t know) decided to go to his funeral.

While there, I ran into someone who was explaining how he died; this gets really abstract, and yet I understood it completely in the dream. He died of “clipline failure” whic was his sorrow at newspaper clippings about himself. (As if?)

Strangely, I not only understood this unusual cause of death, I could think of a similar story I’d once heard about a man who died from photo captions, because he was the person responsible for placing the captions on newspaper photos for years, and eventually died because of it.

We began to walk through the funeral, which looked like a combination between a performance art show and an carnival, with people acting out extraordinarily creative tableauxs. However, I noticed immediately that nowhere in the art works, or performers clothes, or indeed anywhere at the funeral, did the color purple appear; almost as though it were gone forever.

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