Dream #4

Last night was a bizarre mix of childhood anxieties and unintelligible symbolism.

In the first part of the dream, I was doing an Arabic test in a large bedroom lined with mattresses. It was basically a sleepover/Imti7an. The proctor of the exam: my father. I slacked off at first, but seeing people finishing, I rushed to the test, only to notice that it’s way too hard for me. I was also rolling a joint, hiding it under the blankets so my father wouldn’t see.

When the time was over, I saw a guy who I used to go to school with, I think his name was Omar, go to my father and plead that he needs more time. He complained that he wasn’t able to focus. To my surprise, my father agreed. So naturally, I jumped on that boat and pleaded with my father for an extension. He looked at my exam and read some of the questions out loud. I couldn’t even understand the questions. Then he asked me what’s under the blanket. I try hiding it but then reveal what it is. He’s surprisingly unshook by this revelation.

No, instead he was much more upset at my lack of Arabic skills. He talks to my mother in silent. When he returns to me, he gives me a different test. I look at it and can understand it much better. Then he shakes his head: “I blame myself” he says. The new test was A1 level, much lower than the A3 test I was taking before. “You shouldn’t have been in that class” he said. The funny thing about this is I do have very old and deep issues with Arabic stemming, I believe, from my father’s style of teaching (not to mention the prevailing global anti-Arab media landscape that I grew up under and succumbed to).

The next part of the dream takes a huge turn. My father, my mother, and I go to downtown Vienna. They’re still talking about my test when I see a huge black box with people gather around it. I walk towards it and then, as dream physics permits, I entered it. Note: I have been playing Breath of the Wild, so this is definitely part of the influence.

However, when I do enter I see myself standing with a bunch of other people. It’s a wide empty surrounding, with only another smaller black cube floating around in the void yelling, in Zelda’s voice: “Help me Link. Jump inside this box.” I notice people were indeed doing it, but I for some reason was skeptical. It felt like one of those amusement scams in Leicester Square, where while you’re staring aghast someone pickpockets you. I felt like I knew better, so I decided to leave.

When I do, a few men step out of the big black box and threaten me. I run. They pursue. I eventually arrive to a train station where I bolt into an office space for Wiener Linien (The City of Vienna’s train service). The guy who had been chasing me gets a few punches in but eventually the workers there manage to kick him out. I was safe, but for how long?

I wander back to my apartment, which looks more like my grandparents house in the mountains. At this point I’m surrounded with friends, some that I havn’t seen in years irl. For some reason, we knew those guys would come back. In fact, we spotted one from the window. We knew we had to arm ourselves. At the last minute I discover a wine bottle. I lightly tap it against the kitchen counter and hand out a large shard of glass to each person. I keep two, one in each hand.

The angry guys burst through the door and one climbs in through the window. I’m able to corner one and using the shards of glass, I’m able to subdue him. He sits on the couch trembling as I watch my other friends easily subdue the others. This part gets dark.

I decide to kill them. For some reason, the feelings of revenge and frustration felt righteous. I didn’t, in the dream, have any moral qualms about what I was about to do.

In a very vivid and terrified way, I slit the guys throat on both sides. Then I went to the other guy who seemed like ‘the big boss’. Subdued next to him was what seemed like his partner. I think I asked him a few questions, but he refused to answer. So, again. I slit his throat. But he then gestured for his gun. I understood immediately he wanted to ‘die honourably’, nd so I let him take his gun to shoot his partner and himself.

I have noo idea what the fuck the second part means. It was so vivid and gross though. It’s left me feeling queezy. The first part is cute though, and definitely brings up very real and unresolved issues that connect my conflicts with my father, my own identity, and the Arabic language. But maybe the two parts are connected somehow? Ugh. I don’t feel emotionally ready to tackle these dreams yet.