2nd half of dream: Walking along a field where multiple camoflauged alien ships have are resting. They look like rusted rhombus shaped containers, similar to giant garbage trucks. Which alien species do these belong to, I wonder in alternating excitement and nervousness. One of them locks onto me and pulls me toward it. Finally, one finds me interesting. But which one? The walls of this ship become transparent and I see a blue-transluscent skinned short being inside welcoming me. I know it's kind. The affects of the beam begin to render me unconscious. "NO, please let me stay awake so I can interact with you during this session, I want to see everything!" I ask the being and will myself to stay awake through the heavy drowsiness of the beam. I push through and land fully awake on the ship. I can't contain my excitement.
The little being has a squished face, prounounced (not elongated) occipital bone at back of skull, sea foam green skin coloring, shimmers like a fish's skin, single ridge or fin-like ridge along top of head going from front to back (not protruding out, in-line with rest of skull). Greater smile than pictured below, smaller eyes deeper in skull. Small but protruding forehead. Looks similar actually to Speilberg's ET character, but different color and body type.
I am so excited I ask to hug the being, which it senses and welcomes with love.
The inside contradicts its outer camoflauge. Light blues and practically shimmering, the inside felt highly technological, but small like a single being's work space and home away from home. To my surprise, books were scattered around. I expected it to be ordered and pristine, and the touch of mess humanized the alien before me.
I picked up a book, it read "Tarblacus 2012" (or some long T name that indicated a different planet). All the books were about other star systems and alien cultures. What an opportunity to see these! I was so excited. "Can I take one of these with me?" I chanced. "No." Was the firm answer. I knew why. A single book from an alien would not only grant me too much advantage in my world of humans, it would make me a target. But really it was because the world shouldn't have the information from these books yet until we're ready to acknowledge aliens even exist and actively study and try to interact with them.
We walk around outside the ship. He (maybe androgynous) cleans up things around outside of ship. "Are you the same ones who picked me up before," I ask, referring to their species. He confirms, "And the times before that." I wasn't aware of other times, but was relieved this race, and not the other one managed me.
He was picking up fallen brown gargoyle creatures around the ship, like bugs they hit when they landed and we were cleaning the windshield. Except they were the same size as the aquamarine creature. These were the other race I've seen before, but I didn't recall them having wings this size. The clown type I saw may have had wings but they were smaller. He used a large trash picker and placed them into a compactor/cage machine that raised them like a trash can into the larger container. They struggled to get out. Meat and bones and parts everywhere. The sight was unsettling.
"What are these?"
He explained they were like varmints to them, undisciplined, dumb, cause problems.
I found it cruel, and my respect for the aquamarine race was tested in that instance. I watched the meat turn and sensed it was used to feed some other race they helped. I suppose the circle of life continues out into the galaxy. Physiology is physiology. Not everything can be herbivores, than there'd be no plants. Balance must be maintained somehow. Though I logically understood, it was still unfair how they saw them, I thought to myself. The understanding again came into my awareness as I processed what I was seeing. The consciousness of the aquamarine race was daring me to go ahead and try to domesticate, tame, or relate to the gargoyle creature for any kind of cooperative relationship. When I tried to imagine myself connecting with a gargoyle creature, pulling it from the machine and tending it, it's nature became clear: manipulative, selfish, animalistic. It would simply try to get away. Unreceptive to the basic emotion of compassion. It did not recognize it.
I continued on with the aquamarine being into a stable with enormous stalls. What creatures were held in these?! Whatever they were that the AQ beings raised, I knew the gargoyle meat was not going to waste. I saw a couple loose gargoyles flying around the high ceiling like trapped moths. They really were everywhere. So much so, the AQ being didn't bother to collect them all. It was a continuous chore for them.
We came to a railing on a cliff looking only about 25 feet down at a river. I rekindled my excitement to be seeing all these things, unsettling or not, I enjoyed the exposure and knowledge. I hugged him again, and again he returned with warmth and love. He was as glad as I, though I was more of a child about it, to be connecting with a human. "I'm so excited to be able to talk with an alien. I've wanted to for so long."
I further utilized the chance to pick the brain of this being. "Is sex with aliens a weird thing to want?" Before it spoke I knew the answer. "Yes." There was a tone of amusement in both our voices. "But why?" I questioned, dedicated to my belief that it represents connection. "Because of bacteria." It stated. "Are you just saying things I already know?" I tested the validity of the dream itself in this question. I wanted to know if the being was real or from my creative imagination.
My awareness suddenly shifts to a woman in her car facing the cliff rail. She's going to drive off, I tell myself. She decides the alignment is right, backs up and revs her engine. Her face is determined and sure. I rush out to stand in her way as she starts barreling toward the cliff. I close my eyes, put my hands out, and stand my ground. I have faith in the AQ race's presence, influence, or abilities to help this turn out alright. That allows me to stand firm, though she showed no hesitation to stop. She expected I would move. I see the brightness of the lights filling my vision like a cartoon. At the last moment when she acknowledged I wouldn't move, she slammed her breaks desperately. The car skid into me and we both tumbled over the cliff. I looked at her as we fell to glimpse the terror on her face. I moved to her door and pulled on it. She unlocked it just before we hit the water. I pulled it open as we sink. I pull in a breath, straddling the door to maneuver around it so I can unlock her belt. When I do, she swims out. I grab something I thought she would want but was too panicked to remember to grab, and swim myself up to the surface.
I have mentally prepared myself for the possibility of falling into the water in a car many times. The things I think about.
Apparently my car had also fallen off, but it was close to the cliff, and for some reason, wasn't sinking. When we get back to the lookout point, soaking wet, I ask her if there was anything else from her car she wanted me to retrieve. "Nothing, but what you got already. Let it all sink... What about you? Is there anything you wanted to get out of yours?" I paused. "Yes actually, the car seat."
The scene changes. Us two and one other person who was somehow involved in the accident, attending therapy with the same doctor, a friend of mine I recommended. Part of their rehabilitation in accepting the consequences of their actions was to regularly help me regurgitate water from my lungs. I was given the comparative image during this montage process of a drowned pen that had to be slowly emptied so it can dry and maybe write properly again. The suicidal woman and other woman were grateful to me, and felt guilty that their choices ended up affecting me and my family, my child and my mental well-being. When I spit up enough water, the therapist would say "That's enough for today."
Posts
No comments :
Post a Comment