five thousand shades of blue
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
This dream has backstory. My life-engulfing hobby, the
SCA, is composed of 'kingdoms'. Our group is a part of
The Kingdom of An Tir, and
our current King had had surgery on Monday night to correct problems as a result of a car accident in May (he came through the surgery just fine by the way). It took me the whole day, really, to chew on the dream, and I'm still not sure what it meant, only that we had talked about the surgery and has also joked about a local quick-freezing company doing a little cryogenics on the side.
Without further ado:
I was in my house, but it wasn't really my house, in the way that people and places in dreams can paradoxically be and not be something at the same time. Somehow, I had become responsible for taking care of the King's head. A living, breathing, talking reigning yet bodiless head. Perplexed at how it could still be alive yet excited to be entrusted to this important cephalic duty, I decided to show someone the head, and pulled out the bucket I had decided to keep it in. Bucket of hot water. Hm. Bad move on my part, I thought. Surely storing the King's head in a bucket of hot water would be a bad idea. I lifted it up and noticed... oooooh. It did not look good. Sunken, half-lidded eyes, drooping mouth... suddenly as the water drained off the eyes opened and he began to talk. Imagine my relief! Though I felt kind of bad about having to hold the head by the hair.
I can vividly remember the fact that the head had the crown on the entire time. And near the end of the dream I remember feeling like I had woken from the headless body dream and was talking with the King when I noticed a stitched-up scar encircling his neck... and being very freaked out.
The post script to this is that everyone who knows him, whom I told about this dream, has unanimously said: "You have
got to tell him about this."
is
this just not enough…?
