Dragged by a Nightmare

Once there was a man who had seven wives and countless horses. He rode his horses hard and did not care for them at all. The weaker the horse was the more whipping it received. He drove strong horses to their breaking point and then broke them more for breaking at all. He replaced them so quickly that many a horse collapsed only to watch him ride away on another. He always blamed the horse whenever he took a wrong turn and cursed a horse whenever it strayed. All his horses seemed disloyal and mean to him for he could not really see how they reacted to him, rather he only saw how they acted towards him and how he felt he had to react to them. When they flinched, he hit them even harder for thinking bad of him.

He remembers when he was a kid – maybe it was a dream, he could not be sure since it was so long ago – he wandered off into the jagged mountains one moonless night. And he lost control of his dark horse who threatened to buck him off the perilously steep trail. His little hands could barely clutch on. At one point he dangled from the mane over a cliff. The smell of the horse’s anger made him feel so powerless. His dad had died around that time but he could not remember that specific day at all or even how it happened. He was told his dad died in those same mountains. But he could not remember it nor if he was there to witness it.

And on his deathbed, his seven wives gathered around and were about to even feel sorry for a dying person when he told them he had no regrets at all except for the nightmare he would never share with anyone. And so they tied him up and let his horses pull and drag him to pieces over the jagged mountains after all they had suffered from him.

Dream Images

I had to go to the mainland for an errand and was returning to the main ship on the ferries.  We dock and rather than jockeying for position I look at the view until I end up at the back of the line without a care about it.  There is something I loathe about being in a hurry in a crowd. Sooner or later, everyone gets off so why bother feeling an ounce of stress over it? But as I walk up the ramp, the hydraulics start operating and it begins to elevate the ramp closer to the ceiling.  I have to crawl to try and make it before it closes.  And then I start rolling toward the narrow opening but get stuck.  It holds me there with my face pressed between the ramp and the ceiling. The others board on the other side and we return to the mainland while I watch the main ship take off and recede toward the horizon.  And I see my squished face from a bird’s eye view trailing the boat and I look so ridiculous. Like some foolish clown or comedian stuck in a pinch. I wonder if I should’ve cared about being first off the ferry in the first place. Because now I’m paying an absurdly heavy price for being so nonchalant. But at least the ramp didn’t crush my head so I’m lucky in some respect. Finally we dock and the ramp releases me. Abandoned, I wander through the streets wondering what to do and where to go until I hear people screaming around the corner. Something is happening and it sounds terrible. A major flood of water rushes and swings from around the corner. Waves smash into the streets. I’m running as fast as I can.  Many people are running up some stairs. I follow them to a third story balcony of some corporate building and we watch the city float by as if we were back on the main ship.

Here are some images I put together based on this dream of monoliths floating down the old archetypal river.