Dreams or nightmares?
I dream, therefore I become. Cheryl Renée Grossman
I don’t usually remember my dreams. I mean, I must dream, and I awake with fragments but I can’t remember dreams the way many people seem to be able, with the exception of two. I didn’t put much stock in it but I checked out this site (http://www.dreammoods.com/ some of the keywords are in bold) and it was a bit of a shocker.
The first one I have had off and on for the last 10+ years that I can remember. I am in a room, which is sort of like a large greenhouse, walls of small rectangular windows and a curved glass ceiling. The windows are old and slightly opaque giving some light from the sun outside but not direct sunlight. The room has a large pool, which is rectangular as well, but with smaller rectangular sections running perpendicular that have steps into the dark water. The water isn’t really dirty, just dark. There is a large seemingly dead tree on one side with broken branches poking out like skeleton fingers and with the roots going into the ground and out into the water. It’s also hollow. Once, when I went swimming, I climbed up inside the tree. I get the vague sense that I probably shouldn’t be there or that feeling that keeps making you look over your shoulder, almost like the house is deserted, except the ghosts. I can see into the house it’s attached to but can only make out a large room that is open two floors and a circular stained glass window above a huge double door.
The second is me in a large empty room. I begin to scream, falling to my knees. It’s the sound of someone’s soul coming apart. Blood begins to drip from my eyes, nose and mouth until finally a pure white light bursts from them instead. It never ends, or at least I never see what happens to me, the dream just ends.