The first thing I remember about the dream
is being in a courtroom after having apparently been sentenced to death. But,
rather than being lead out and off to some prison or another to wait out an
appeal, I saw that a hangman’s noose had been strung off in one corner of the
courtroom.
The reality of my death at the hands of the
people was upon me. But even in this dream I quickly found my philosophical
feet and braced against the imminence of my demise with the tried and true
realization that we all must face our deaths sometime, and only an unprepared
fool would let fear dominate the experience.
So, I was not afraid, but mostly curious,
and a little sad that “the people” still believed murder to be somehow just.
The next thing I remember was seeing myself hanging
by the neck, except I was actually in the audience of spectators. I even
commented about the fact that they had failed to drop my body in order to break
the neck. I was told that the intention of this hanging was deliberately strangulation,
not disarticulation. But, I told the supposed executioner, I was clearly not
strangling because my body was not heavy enough to cause the rope to even cut
off my air. And, the fact that I was standing there talking to him was proof
(somehow my body was hanging from the rope by the neck while I was in the
audience at the same time, so if my body died then so would I). The executioner
told me, with some clear uncertainty in his tone, to just wait and see; in
time, he said, I would no longer be able to breathe and would consequently die.
I must have left then hanging at this point,
because the next thing I remember was returning to the site of the hanging and
being surprised to see the rope with no body hanging from it. I was still
alive, so I knew the body must be too, and I assumed they gave up and decided
to let me live. But, I was desperately wrong!
When I asked where they had taken my body
they opened a refrigerator and I saw my body curled up inside slowly freezing
to death!
I instantly flew into a rage, and swore that
I would bring hell itself down upon their town (of the people who had condemned
me). Then I yelled, “Smallville hasn’t seen the beginning of the suffering I
will bring!” and then stormed off with nothing but pure malice in my heart.
In the rest of the dream I stormed through
town, briefly considering the kind of harm I would do (i.e. kidnap more
children? Murder people in public? etc…) but then arrived “home” (which turned
out to be unique to this particular dream) and saw my brother, Bruce (who is
deceased in real life) waiting for me.
After I woke I wondered why I responded so
wrathfully to the hypocrisy that the people in the dream (much like in the real
world) called justice. Why didn’t I simply forgive them, the way I have in
reality? Am I only pretending to forgive? Does this dream indicate that perhaps
I have not really forgiven anyone yet? That I still want “revenge” (i.e. their
so-called idea of justice) in spite of all I profess?
It’s something to at least think about. But
even if I still have not forgiven society in my heart-of-hearts, at least I’m
honestly trying to; that should count for something.
[J.D.
3-9-2014]
