Watching the moon rise through the trees this evening, I thought back to a few nights ago, where I woke from a pretty violent dream at 3 AM. I started to write it down, what I could remember, when a critter outside robbing the bird feeder startled me. Full moon, so if I’d been smart I would’ve turned off the lights, and probably been able to see it, but I wasn’t smart, so I didn’t.
First part of the dream, I was talking to someone, a guy, about abortion. He was arguing for it, or something. I don’t remember that part of the dream, but towards the end of that part, I was in a big field, and he drove up in a convertible, and tossed out a little white thing not much bigger than a cigarette butt. In my mind, I knew that it represented another abortion. He did this twice. After the second time, there was a sense of something destructive approaching. I can’t describe it, but I knew it was lethal. A wall appeared behind me, so I got the wall between myself and the approaching “thing”. As I stood behind the wall, a maelstrom of objects began tearing through the wall. I realised there was another wall joined perpendicularly to the wall, and that getting behind that joint in the two walls was the only way to survive, as the wall disintegrated from all of the objects tearing through it. The walls were pretty much disintegrated, when armed men appeared. “Which ones of you are Jews?” or something along the lines, they asked. Some fearful survivors sort of gathered around behind me, and the armed men began bayoneting them. I think I woke up after the third victim was bayoneted.
Tonight, after watching the moon rise, I got to thinking about what’s been on mind. I’m a pretty heavy news reader. The Gosnell trial was on my mind a lot before the Boston Marathon bombing. That might account for the first half of the dream, most of which I can’t remember. The shrapnel tearing apart the walls could have been from descriptions of the Boston Marathon bombers packing shrapnel into their bombs. The men with bayonets, well, after a Muslim terrorist act, naturally, I start thinking about extremist Muslims, or whatever the politically correct term for them is these days.
I don’t think I’ve ever been able to track a violent dream directly to what’s been on my mind as closely as this before.