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Author Topic: A Trip to the Museum  (Read 2762 times)

horizen

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A Trip to the Museum
« on: November 23, 2013, 08:19:12 PM »
The dream starts with me on the country road I associate most with my childhood.  This is where I spent much of my youth, visiting with friends, exploring the nearby woods, riding our bikes.  So I am assuming I am around that age during the dream (10-12), and this becomes even more true when I see I am with another boy of the same age. 
He and I are suddenly told by Angelina Jolie (more on what she likely symbolizes in a moment) to get in the car as she drives us to who knows where. 

Note--I'd read Angelina's biography a few years ago and I associate her as someone very much like my mother...someone emotionally immature, borderline personality disordered, self-centered and very much into her image and managing to maintain a smiley, picture perfect public persona despite being disturbed. 

Back to the dream...I'm sitting in the back seat as Angelina drives us down this secluded road.  She drives us deeper and deeper, to where, I'm still not sure.  But I am certainly uneasy about it.  She does not say where we are going.  She just keeps driving.  Since she is the adult and has a certain aura of authority and respectability about her, I feel I must respect her desire to take us wherever it is she's determined to take us.  In fact, my mind races ahead to a scenario where I demand to be let out of the car and I know I'd be overpowered and things would likely escalate to a dangerous volatility.  There seems no option but to submit to her will and let her drive us where she will.  I do think the only time I could have had an alternate option would have been prior to getting in the car with her.  I could have run away when she told us to get in with her.  (My mind races with thoughts like these during the drive).

As she drives along I notice the along the side of the road, in the ditches, black birds, ravens, dead.  Then there are more and more birds strewn along the road.  The dead animals grow in number, soon I see chipmunks, squirrels, rabbits, all sorts of birds of course.  The amount and type of dead animals grows in numbers.  Taking this as a sign of danger that we are heading to a very unhealthy place I speak up.  I tell Angelina that we shouldn't be going this way, look at all the dead animals, their numbers growing the further she takes us in this direction.  The environment must be poisioned, I tell her.  Let's not go this way.

Angelina Jolie smiles sweetly, and in a voice just as sickeningly sweet says "Oh, its much worse than you think.  It's radiation."  And this sends icy chills through me since she says it with a smile as she continues to drive us further into this dangerous territory.

Once we get to her destination, she finally says where we are.  It is a museum.  Out in the middle of nowhere.  Nothings there but this one level museum, a parking lot, and a large placid body of water to the right.  It feels familiar.  I say aloud "I've been here before...when I was a kid."  I must have been a little kid because I remember just enough to have the feeling of being there before with my family, nothing more.

We get out of the car and walk up to the building.  Once I enter it Angelina Jolie and the boy recede out of my awareness.  Not sure if they're there at all now.  Once I enter the museum I see my actual mother is present inside.  I sense other family is there too.  But the majority of my awareness is focused on the contents of this museum.  First, there is a room with a wooden floor filled with several small dogs of different breed.  These are no ordinary dogs--they are half alive and half taxidermy.  The dogs eyes are very much alive..they can move their gaze, and they look imploringly at me.  I see their spirit is very much alive inside them, they are sentient beings, fully aware of their surroundings, fully feeling, fulling sensing.  But they are physically frozen.  They cannot move.  Only their eyes and spirit animate.  And I may be the only one in the musueum that notices this.  Here they are, frozen "pieces" on display like furniture for people to drop by and visit on their little tour.  I'm definatley aware that my mother and other family are present in theis room, with this "display".  But I'm aware of them as a presence ini the background despite being right near me.  My focus is on the poor dogs, the museum "display" room to see something other than this creepy, sad display.  The other room is much smaller.  It is a tiny room, with wooden floor and nothing in it other than an old fashioned tv set.  This must be the focus or piece for this room.  The old tv.  It is not on.  I notice a window in this room, and I look out of it, to the blue water outside.  I woke up at this point, feeling I hadn't seen what I was supposed to see.  Perhaps I should have turned on the tv for a message.  Why would the dream bring me here?    Was I supposed to visit this musueum (revist my past) despite my reluctance?see

horizen

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Re: A Trip to the Museum
« Reply #1 on: November 23, 2013, 08:23:16 PM »
Or was the dream trying to show me that if I let myself be driven by a sick family member I'd remain frozen in time, physically unable to move, living like those dogs--half taxidermy, half alive?

(Sorry for the poor typing, my computer is sticking at every other character).

horizen

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Re: A Trip to the Museum
« Reply #2 on: November 23, 2013, 08:41:11 PM »
Also, I don't know if I expressed this earlier, but a large percentage of the dream was me feeling captive in a car with an unstable scary ice princess in control.  And the sense of her taking us deeper and deeper into sicker and sicker territory.  Dangerous, life threatening territory.  And my having no power to do anything about it.  My concerns did not matter to her.  My words did not matter.  Reality glaring us in the face through the window as we breezed by did not matter to her (the increasing number of animal casualties).  I was just sitting their in the backseat, nervous, worried, concerned, speaking up about reality and my concerns and it having zero effect.  Knowing we were driving into a situation that would only get worse and worse.  Holding everything in because there was no other choice and not wanting to trigger this woman into losing it completely in violence and insanity by insisting she take notice of the reality around us.  I knew her icy feminine perfection was surface/faux image only..what lay beneath it was violence, insanity, volatile wrecklessness.  She MUST have her way.  We MUST go along with her.  We must not upset her. 
« Last Edit: November 23, 2013, 08:43:12 PM by horizen »