Dreams and layoffs

Third lucid dream

My problem at that time was, as you probably started to guess, related to dreaming. Not dreaming in the sense of a vision, thinking at something special that I wanted to fulfil, like save the planet, my country, not even my small town. I am a normal bachelor, having the odd relationship, moderately happy and at peace with his own place in society; some
friends, a good job, travelling for fun not exactly an explorer, always going to interesting yet safe places with at least a comfortable 3* ranking. The average Joe. It is about dreaming while sleeping, or at a later phase even when being awake, but in a state of relaxation hovering on the edge of sleep. You will say that people dream, this is a normal state of our brain in diverse phases of activity, still mine were so vivid and so real that at times I was not able to differentiate the reverie from reality which led to a long cortege of problems, something is dragging me into dreams in which I lose myself.

There are no nightmares in the sense of monsters running after me for their dinner although most of them were highly dramatic, more a kind of private world where I am everything I couldn’t be in my real life: a saviour and an explorer. And again there are a lot of people having similar dreams like a kind of escape path from reality, happy to face dangers only in dreams. Only they are not dreaming while in meetings or concerts, or in pubs with friends and they don’t suddenly jump on the table and shout that the castle is attacked or that aliens invaded the starship and start giving orders to an invisible army to prepare for battle. The first time this happened everybody laughed, you are the joke of the month, the second time they are a little bit annoyed or even afraid, and with the third and more – discreet discussions are started by friends, managers, HR that is somehow the time to consult a doctor. Even now I remember the last one before accepting the notion of “more help needed”: I lost track of the meeting, an almost ageless old man Merlin, giving me the Holy Grail with the invincibility potion, me taking it in the dream while actually seizing my manager’s coffee, drinking half of it and spilling the rest on his bald head assimilated with the King Arthur statue. And by the way the coffee was hot.

I went home feeling I had just offered my manager the motive of his dreams to add my name to the layoffs’ list. It was late and I was angry.  I started to lecture the table walking around to calm my nerves. We are in a recovery without recovery and no employment only more layoffs, we, in fact they, in our name, are pouring money after money to save the unsolvable, the banks too big to fail having politicians in their pocket. We are so insignificant, we can fail without notice as individuals, and no one care about this, even we no longer care about us, being an easy prey for their propaganda. And has anyone the courage to see how this playing field really looks? Everything was turned in to commodities, labour, land, money, society, democracy even our souls; we are creating a soulless system. If we still have a future our descendants will conclude that democracy only served the interests of money to acquire power and after establishing control over governments, democracy became a liability in the same way as people in big companies. It was no evolution only a mostly turbulent changeover from the divine right of kings to the democratic right of the few with money.

Then I had a dream: again the valley, again the snow, the sun and the wolves. The last one turned slowly, staring at me. Strangely he had the stupid eyes of my manager. He started to walk slowly in my direction, then faster, then he jumped and as he jumped his face was no longer a wolf face but his face. I woke up screaming almost feeling his teeth on my throat.  I couldn’t sleep back again; I went to the library and took the first book I found – “Gulliver’s travels”.

Next day I happened to have my weekly shrink visit. As usual she found a sexual connotation in the dream, the boss’s open mouth was the hidden symbol of female genitalia, I was myself the proud phallic symbol liberating my tension. I went home, read Gulliver’s Travels, cursed the doctor, Freud and all his sexual non-sense after wondering if the ugly old woman with a monkey face had ever had a sexual life.  I felt asleep. I had no
bad dreams. It seems that you can derive more pleasure by cursing your shrink than your boss. Maybe for the good reason that everybody curses their boss ten times a day, thus losing value. The curse I mean.

 

End of third lucid dream

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