I’m happy with the way this turned out in pencil. Thank god I thought of photocopying it to color it in.. because I don’t like the way that turned out. Honestly I did it really messy because it was a photocopy, but I also don’t feel confident using my Prismacolor pens yet.. I get that people feel its gory and weird.. I don’t really care.
The following is an email that I sent to both my counselor and one of my closest friends at 3:57AM on April 25th. The only edits I made were to correct spelling, and add a few missing words.
I just had a nightmare..
I was with a group of people that were trying to catch a person who wanted to kill me. We were asking around for clues and details.. He was obviously a very sick person, it wasn’t clear why he needed to kill me (somehow this part seemed very important, why was consuming my thoughts instead of who was he and how do I find him). Through investigation my group found proof as to who the person was, it turned out that I knew him, and I knew why he wanted to kill me, and that he has tried to kill me before, but I couldn’t remember him. So one of the my friends took me to the side as the man was walking up the street we were on, approaching us, but before he was close enough to see he told me that I knew the man, I didn’t believe him, he told me that I knew what he looked like, I didn’t believe him, then he told me that I knew why he wanted to kill me.. But I still couldn’t believe/remember, so he gave me prompts to remind me of what he looked like “his hair was grey, wasn’t it?” my friend asked, “yes it was” I answered, not even knowing where the answer was coming from. “he was tall, with broad shoulders” he asked, “yes he was”.. The picture my friend was painting was so clear in my mind, so real that as the man approached it all made sense that it was him, when he finally was almost inches away from me (he was walking right past me, like watching, but not ready to kill).. I blurted out “it’s him”. My friends gathered around him and pulled him to the ground, apparently he planned to burn himself alive after killing me, he was cover in gasoline. But he couldn’t ignite the fire.. not because he couldn’t physically do it, but he was crying to himself about something. My friends were trying to create a spark, they wanted him to die accidentally as they were capturing him. I didn’t want him to die. I kept wondering why he wanted to kill me, I felt sympathy for him. I wondered if I deserved to die, if he had a valid reason. He was obviously mentally disturbed, he was crying to himself about something. I was so convinced that he must have had a valid reason, that I had possibly hurt him somehow, that I kept picturing in my mind that lighting him on fire would be like lighting my baby sister, I could see her face catch fire and burn. I wanted to defend him from my friends. I needed to protect him. They couldn’t understand, even though i explained to them how i felt.. they just kept trying to cause a spark. The images of my sister burning were too painful to keep seeing that I woke up..
In the dream I wasn’t me, I was a man. And my friends were not friends I know in real life. But I could feel these things to be true..
The worst thing is that I feel like this dream is about myself. That the man who was trying to kill me is the sick part of myself that’s always trying to hurt me. That I feel so much sympathy for that part of myself. I worry that it’s sickness has a valid reason to want my destruction.. My friends and counselor have been trying to point that part of me out through clues, and now that I’ve found her they want to kill her, but I want to protect her.. I have to protect her.
I believe dreams are a means by which a person can understand their unconscious mind. They are important to me, and they often inspire my creativity.