Post by privatetucker on Oct 7, 2010 17:10:58 GMT -5
Okay, so, I had this very weird, very very vivid dream last night...on one hand I am hesitatnt to say it was apast life dream because I just...I dunno. But on the other it was so incredibly vivid and detailed just like any of memory dreams from my Holocaust lifetimes. This was a different time period though so...um...maybe you guys may be able to make sense of this?
----
In the dream, my name was Jenny Moore, and I think I was about fourteen or so. I had strawberry blonde hair, and I think I had freckles, but I'm not sure. I know I had blue eyes. I think this took place in England, but I am not sure about that, either. I was wearing a black Victorian dress that went down to my ankles (maybe) that rustled when I walked (in the back of my mind I knew it was called crepe). Where I was...the best way I can describe it is like a little self contained town, and I saw a few shops.
What caught my attention right away (like I am sure any teenage girl) was a dressmaker's shop. XD
However, I was not going there. I was with my father, and we were going to the asylum at the end of that road. It was made or either dark brown or grey stone, with a sort of gothic, Victorian style architecture. I get the feeling my father was involved with the asylum in some way, maybe as a doctor? I am unsure what he did exactly, but we went inside. I also get the feeling I was like his favorite daughter, the one he loved the best, his pet. Why he would bring me there, though, I don't know...
The word [[phrase]] that came into my mind was that he was making his rounds. We went into one room that I don't really remember, but it was the next one that was very, very vivid. There was another woman besides us, and the only word I could use to describe her was solid. Kind of bustling, stout, no-nonsense. She wasn't the type to take any bs. But she had to unlock the very heavy, reinforced door in front of us, which made sense once we were inside.
It was dark there, and for some reason I saw a dark green tinge on the walls (mold?) The air smelled damp, and there were about a dozen beds up against the walls. I think all against one wall but I am not sure. There were some patients lying on them, rather vacant, and there were others walking around. For some reason typing this out I want to write prisoners instead of patients...probably because they were in some respects. Either way, they were obviously not very well taken care of because a lot of them were thin, had bad skin, sunken eyes, and lank, greasy hair. They all wore the same kind of clothes that were just dull and drab and grey, very shapeless. In the dream I felt absolutely terrified but at the same tim kind of disgusted...in my snobby, shallow mind I don't think I even saw them as people but more like wild, untamed...things I didn't understand. Something that could jump up and hurt you at any time for no reason at all, and that was what scared me.
I was introduced to a girl who I think was around my age, and her name was Nell. But then there was a disturbance in another part of that room, on a bed--some patient was kicking up a fuss, throwing a fit, and they were roughly pinned to their bed and a straitjacket was forced on them. After that we left the room rather quickly. But before we left Nell winked at me as if we shared some sort of secret and I felt deeply unsettled by that. We moved to a much nicer part of the building that I think was someone's living quarters (maybe a worker of some sort, not mine, I am sure). There was a nice staircase with a shiny wooden rail the color of chestnuts and thick, soft carpet you could sink into. There was a vanity table in that room and the woman who unlocked the door was there but my father wasn't.
For some reason Nell was there, too, and I felt unsettled by that. Also for some very odd reason the two of us ended up alone in that room for a moment, and she talked to me. She talked to me like a normal person, like we were friends (I don't know what was being said) and I realized she wasn;t insane at all! She was just like me...and I didn't understand why she was there. Then I think my name was called and we left, my father and I.
We stopped by that dressmaker's shop and I ran my hands through all the fabric and admired the dresses, especially one in the display window. A blue and cream dress was taken off the mannequin for me, and I wanted it, but in the end my father decided against it and we left.
The town was walled in by this thick, heavy gates that were locked every night.. I think this was done to keep the patients from escaping, but I am not sure. Either way, my father and I left just as they were closing them and I remember the immense relief that flooded through my body, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I really hated it there...
And then I woke up.
So I actually don't know what to make of this because I have never had any flashes of any other lives before and so I still want to dismiss it as some sort of very elaborate dream. But on the other hand my non PL dreams, while interesting, are never that vivid, or involved. They have a tendency to be splotched and often don't make any sense, nor do they have details. Nor am I anyone but me, now.
I do have a general sense of the time period, I think it was the 1890's, or at the turn of the century. So I was kind of brooding on it in the shower (I do a lot of good thinking in the shower) and saying to myself, "well, if this was a past life memory I must not have lived long because I was born in 1927/1928 in my Holocaust one. So whoever this was, I wonder what they died from..."
And then the randomest word came into my head: cholera. So I've been thinking about it all day, unable to really let it go.
Something else I found noteworthy this time around is that if you talk to any of my friends they can tell you about my obsessions with abandoned asylums, and Victorian clothing. I dress in lolita clothing anyway, which shares some similiarities.
So...um...yeah...that's about it. =/
----
In the dream, my name was Jenny Moore, and I think I was about fourteen or so. I had strawberry blonde hair, and I think I had freckles, but I'm not sure. I know I had blue eyes. I think this took place in England, but I am not sure about that, either. I was wearing a black Victorian dress that went down to my ankles (maybe) that rustled when I walked (in the back of my mind I knew it was called crepe). Where I was...the best way I can describe it is like a little self contained town, and I saw a few shops.
What caught my attention right away (like I am sure any teenage girl) was a dressmaker's shop. XD
However, I was not going there. I was with my father, and we were going to the asylum at the end of that road. It was made or either dark brown or grey stone, with a sort of gothic, Victorian style architecture. I get the feeling my father was involved with the asylum in some way, maybe as a doctor? I am unsure what he did exactly, but we went inside. I also get the feeling I was like his favorite daughter, the one he loved the best, his pet. Why he would bring me there, though, I don't know...
The word [[phrase]] that came into my mind was that he was making his rounds. We went into one room that I don't really remember, but it was the next one that was very, very vivid. There was another woman besides us, and the only word I could use to describe her was solid. Kind of bustling, stout, no-nonsense. She wasn't the type to take any bs. But she had to unlock the very heavy, reinforced door in front of us, which made sense once we were inside.
It was dark there, and for some reason I saw a dark green tinge on the walls (mold?) The air smelled damp, and there were about a dozen beds up against the walls. I think all against one wall but I am not sure. There were some patients lying on them, rather vacant, and there were others walking around. For some reason typing this out I want to write prisoners instead of patients...probably because they were in some respects. Either way, they were obviously not very well taken care of because a lot of them were thin, had bad skin, sunken eyes, and lank, greasy hair. They all wore the same kind of clothes that were just dull and drab and grey, very shapeless. In the dream I felt absolutely terrified but at the same tim kind of disgusted...in my snobby, shallow mind I don't think I even saw them as people but more like wild, untamed...things I didn't understand. Something that could jump up and hurt you at any time for no reason at all, and that was what scared me.
I was introduced to a girl who I think was around my age, and her name was Nell. But then there was a disturbance in another part of that room, on a bed--some patient was kicking up a fuss, throwing a fit, and they were roughly pinned to their bed and a straitjacket was forced on them. After that we left the room rather quickly. But before we left Nell winked at me as if we shared some sort of secret and I felt deeply unsettled by that. We moved to a much nicer part of the building that I think was someone's living quarters (maybe a worker of some sort, not mine, I am sure). There was a nice staircase with a shiny wooden rail the color of chestnuts and thick, soft carpet you could sink into. There was a vanity table in that room and the woman who unlocked the door was there but my father wasn't.
For some reason Nell was there, too, and I felt unsettled by that. Also for some very odd reason the two of us ended up alone in that room for a moment, and she talked to me. She talked to me like a normal person, like we were friends (I don't know what was being said) and I realized she wasn;t insane at all! She was just like me...and I didn't understand why she was there. Then I think my name was called and we left, my father and I.
We stopped by that dressmaker's shop and I ran my hands through all the fabric and admired the dresses, especially one in the display window. A blue and cream dress was taken off the mannequin for me, and I wanted it, but in the end my father decided against it and we left.
The town was walled in by this thick, heavy gates that were locked every night.. I think this was done to keep the patients from escaping, but I am not sure. Either way, my father and I left just as they were closing them and I remember the immense relief that flooded through my body, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I really hated it there...
And then I woke up.
So I actually don't know what to make of this because I have never had any flashes of any other lives before and so I still want to dismiss it as some sort of very elaborate dream. But on the other hand my non PL dreams, while interesting, are never that vivid, or involved. They have a tendency to be splotched and often don't make any sense, nor do they have details. Nor am I anyone but me, now.
I do have a general sense of the time period, I think it was the 1890's, or at the turn of the century. So I was kind of brooding on it in the shower (I do a lot of good thinking in the shower) and saying to myself, "well, if this was a past life memory I must not have lived long because I was born in 1927/1928 in my Holocaust one. So whoever this was, I wonder what they died from..."
And then the randomest word came into my head: cholera. So I've been thinking about it all day, unable to really let it go.
Something else I found noteworthy this time around is that if you talk to any of my friends they can tell you about my obsessions with abandoned asylums, and Victorian clothing. I dress in lolita clothing anyway, which shares some similiarities.
So...um...yeah...that's about it. =/
