it wasn't grey: grey is a colour
Well hi everyone. I thought I'd get some feedback on this dream. I told a few people, and the only "concrete" response I had was "It sounds like the Revelations," and "Maybe someone's trying to tell you something, E." Something about moths being messengers of the divine? I don't know much about that symbolism. But the dream stuck with me for a whole day. I thought about it so much that I felt physically ill from it.
To make sense of this before you read it, the dream goes backwards; that is, it begins at the end, and ends when it's all starting. The part of the dream that stuck with me so much was the second one, with the moths consuming everything, and also, the horizon wave.
Despite my being a severed angel, I really don't know why there were angels there, and furthermore, why I only remember the "names" of two of them, and also, why those two. There are too many holes in the dream to make any sense to me.
23 January 2009
AFTER THE END OF THE WORLD
It began ( or ended ) in a street. It was night time and the white lamp-posts shone dully. This was not earth. But I had been from earth. I was looking for five angels. they were archangels, as the people on earth knew them ( although thought of as more "commonplace" in this planet ). Lucifer was one, and I believe ( ? ) Uriel. All of them went by different names, each an obvious variation of their essence. For instance, Lucifer's name was "Light," or something like that. I went house to house ( for these people were nocturnal ) looking for them. I had head knowledge that the humanity that survived ( something ) migrated to this world.
THE END OF THE WORLD
It continued on earth. The world was ending. There were three of us in a boxcar, the kind found in huge ware-houses. It was only a matter of time until the nothing consumed us all. It would not go through the open doorway. "It," the nothing, in form of countless black moths, that swarmed over people, earth, buildings, history, life. It consumed all memory and all things. I saw the clouds, dark endless storm clouds stretching from the grey featureless on the right to the waiting city on the left. But the clouds were the moths.
We needed to get out. The colour was already gone from the sides. One of the people, a coworker, said he was "going to make a run for it," presumably out-run the nothing, building to building. I didn't stop him. What was I to say? "Die here not there"? He ran out. His skin was pulled apart by the swarm, and although he was running, and the pulling process was slow, he was gone in three strides, so many were the moths. And the other man and I were left dumbfounded.
PRELUDE TO THE END
In my dream I ( my point of view ) followed an angel. The sky was black but the End had not yet come. He was driving a bike up an onramp to a huge freeway system. There were no letters on any of the signs. Moths flew around and into him but he was not affected. He was looking for someone. The city, however, was empty. Terror was in the moths, the darkness.
I was in a house. Something was happening. These people, I knew them. They were preparing to leave. On the ground everywhere was water, a flood. To the rafts, the canoes. I was materialistic and tried to save my things. On the horizon was a wave, the wave was the horizon. It was as tall as mountains and taller. All of a sudden the "crest" of the wave came over us and all was blue and dark. We were underwater. I was afraid of the windows in this building breaking from the pressure. The ceiling began to leak. But we were not underwater, so tall was the crest of the wave. Rushing water on the ( low ) horizon came at us ( from the base of the wave ). We struggled in the already deep flood to the river and boats. I dropped some of my things on the way, my fairy bell one of them. I took a canoe with two others and asked to ride stern. Always a desire to remain in control even in the impossible situations. We were going to try and ride the wave out. I mounted, held on, got into the river's flow with the oncoming water minutes behind us and then awoke.
Anyway that's it, and I'm glad I wrote it down when I did, because I was so sick of it at the end of the day I didn't want anything to do with it. It left me with the feeling of, "I don't want to see the end of the world," and furthermore, "I really don't want to survive it if I do."
“To his friends a man shall always remain a friend,
And return gift for gift;
Laughter for laughter let him return
And falsehood for lies.”