Dancing dragons and the psychotic ex-girlfriend

Out of step with my circadian rhythm

I want to become a frequent visitor to the wonderful realm of lucid dreams, and live a healthier life in general, so I’m learning to have more respect for my circadian rhythm. Until now, my wake-sleep cycle has been nothing less than bleary-eyed chaos, with each day melting unnoticed into the next. My head usually hits the pillow as the sun peeks over the horizon, at which point, with all the standard city noise coming from outside, I have no chance of getting an unbroken 7 to 8 hours sleep. As a consequence, my dreams usually come as a confusion of vague fragments, which invariably vanish from memory with the first flutter of my eyelids. On the rare occasions that I have managed to go to bed at a reasonable time, my dreams have had a lot more clarity; the likelihood for the dream becoming part of my long-term memory also seems to be higher when I listen to my internal clock. Going to sleep at a reasonable time is definitely the first thing I need to sort out, if I want the keys to dream-time lucidity.

Picking up the beat

I have only just started listening to my circadian rhythm, so until my dreams pick up the beat, gain a more stable cohesion, and refrain from becoming ethereal vapour the moment I open my eyes, I will have to be patient and reminisce about past dreams. Looking back at past productions from my inner id may also help to lubricate the cogs of dream-recall. The following is a dream I had when I was in my late teens. Although eons ago, I can remember waking from this dream in a cold sweat and screaming out loud. As the saying goes: I have changed the names to protect the innocent. The real ex-girlfriend who made an appearance in this dream was not called ‘Sarah’, she wasn’t a psycho in real life either. The dragons never had names, so I will just call them…umm…dragons. So…yeah…now that that’s all clear as mud, here’s the dream. Enjoy!

The cliff-top that I’m walking along looks precarious

One misstep and I’m going to fall to my death many hundreds of feet below. I see the still waters of a coastal cove down there. I can also see a small island, a mile or so from the shore. There’s something swimming in the ocean out by the island… No, not one thing, but two. They’re swimming together, in an elegant dance. They are enormous creatures, with scales and tails… Dragons! I’m happy and transfixed in wonderment as I watch the two dragons swim and dance together in the calm ocean.

Why am I now laying on the old mattress of a rickety metal-framed bed? There’s a strange and somewhat disturbing sound coming from another room; a low and incoherent mumbling. I look around and see that I’m alone in a dilapidated hospital ward. More beds lay scattered in various stages of decay. Paint is pealing away from the walls, like vast festering scars. The floor is covered with building and medical debris; bricks, syringes, and other indeterminable objects are all mixed together within the dirty mess. The sound comes again, a little louder this time but still nothing more than meaningless chatter. I feel uneasy, and as the sound continues, my anxiety grows into fear.

“Hello,” I ask with a tremulous voice. “Who’s there?”

The sound pauses for a brief moment, then starts up again and continues as before.

“Hello,” I say again, desperately trying to keep my voice steady and calm.

The room judders, and then begins to shake. I see a vibration in the air, as if something or someone is moving around in the room, but whatever it is, it has no physical form. With wide, searching eyes I look for a means of escape. I feel something inches away from my face, but I still cannot see it. A deep, gravelly voice comes forth from the unseen and screams into my face, “Don’t fucking speak to me!” The verbal assault is followed by manic laughter.

I’m back on the path, walking along the edge of the cliff. I can see an old ruin ahead of me. It looks like a stone-age structure; a simple circular building formed from small interlocking stones. I realise that it’s actually an ancient tomb. I don’t know how I know this, but I’m in no doubt that I am walking towards a tomb of some great age. I notice Sarah standing in the entrance way, she is wearing a wedding dress which is covered in a splattering of blood.

“Hello, Sarah,” I say as I walk towards her. For some reason I am unconcerned by all the blood.

She smiles back at me but does not reply. I turn my head to look over the cliff, and try to find the dancing dragons again. The dragons have gone, so I turn back to face Sarah. She is now upside down and floating in mid-air. She looks at me with a demented smile, then grabs hold of me and lunges towards my groin. I try to push her away and break free from her hold on me, but she is too strong. A terrifying moment later she is ripping off my manhood with jagged, razor-sharp teeth.

Thank Christ that was the point at which I woke up

Although, I would have preferred my journey back to reality to have happened before Sarah ripped off my family jewels. As I mentioned earlier: I can still remember opening my eyes with a jolt, screaming at the top of my lungs, and covered in sweat.


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