If you've heard me talking about my dreams before, you've heard me say: they're always epic. Always a journey, a quest, a battle, something to escape, something to evade... I'm sure that fact itself means something too, but I'm no one to interpret it.
Last night's dream was no exception. I don't remember nearly what I did upon just waking up, which is why I'm scolding myself for misplacing my dream journal again... but I remember being royalty and having to duck and cover a bit. I remember being outside in deep snowdrifts upon hills, and having to hide myself in them and pretend to be dead. While in these snowdrifts, it became apparent that the only person between me and the throne was my dream-sister. I'd like to clarify that this dream sister did not resemble my real sister in appearance or personality. Sometimes my actual sister does appear in my dreams, but this wasn't her. So I had no problem killing her.
I don't die much in my dreams. In fact, I can't recall ever waking and having dreamed of my death. I have done a lot of killing in my dreams. It's not a frequent theme or anything, but it does happen. This murder was really curious. It involved beating her head until I knew that the previously uniform mass within it had ... not dissolved or even shattered but somehow separated... hitting her skull, I felt its contents move around like marbles made of jello... I left her body in the snow and went back to my people's great hall.
I made it back there but didn't want to be spotted immediately for some reason. I was trying to overhear some comments on the state of things and where I stood. I tried to pass as someone serving ale or something alcoholic in a pitcher, and one fellow took too much of a liking to me and keeping my honor was looking difficult. So I stood up and threw up my arms and said something to the effect of "Do you not know your Queen?" and he did a lot of cowering and I did a lot of ordering his tortured death.
I remember laying down in my big bed in my big chamber with a couple of small dogs. I remember one of the dogs acting funny, and when I put my hands on her, I could tell she had about half of the marble-brain problem my dead sister had had. I was sad about it, but shrugged in the dream, and somehow justified this dog's suffering by saying sometimes people are going to get hurt.
I believe that our brain uses sleep-time to do sorting and cleanup and subconsciously make decisions by putting ourselves into situations that represent the ones we won't make consciously. I believe my brain is a little crazy, yes, but that I am supposed to have woken knowing that I will be okay, all the time. I'm the kind of girl who won't give up and will do what she has to to make sure she's alright. It was a weird way to get the message (and weird is being used to describe my current situation with increasing frequency) but it's a good message to get.