The first sequence of my dream I do not remember well. I remember being in a public place, much like a mall. I remember seeing Bridget. She paid me no attention. I wandered lost. Evening was drawing near. I came to a large auditorium. Many people were waiting silently. I was looking at my tablet, and the volume was turned up, momentarily annoying everyone. I found out that Madonna was about to give a concert.
I thought this might do me some emotional good. Just to be at a public event, no matter how disgustingly pop-culture. I saw Dennis and Melissa - old friends, seated to my left. I told Dennis I didn't recognize him. They seemed friendly. I saw someone else I knew seated to the right. I can't remember who they were.
Madonna came on stage. The entire show was her being sodomized, while large screens played close-ups. My emotional state went from bad to much worse. I wondered if Bridget was here. I had to get out of here. I thought of the families in the audience. I felt sick.
I walked to my old neighborhood. There was a large covered platform, and people meeting underneath it, eating together. This was on Reed St. There was a girl. I was attracted to her. I wanted to talk to her. She was with a friend. I saw my cousin Darrell. I told him about the horror of Madonna's show. We rose and walked together. I longed for the company of the girl. Our conversation turned to the old ways of this area. We walked along the ridge of a hill. In the old days, the wise women were evil. They would take 7 hairs from your head. If you did their bidding, you wouldn't be cursed, yet this was a curse in itself. If you denied them, they would use your hair in conjure - you may die within days, or if you had children, they may die within days, or worse.
The sequence faded. Emotional state of rejection. Pain. Broken heart. Disgust. Longing. Loneliness. An awareness of ties to the land an ancient evil once held.
Next dream sequence:
I was underground. I believe just across from Reed St., at my old house at 221 Summit. It was somehow here, and somehow not. I was in a large mine or basement of sorts. It had long corridors, multiple rooms. I had the feeling that above us were ancient dwellings, a small town that was once inhabited by Hispanics or Native Americans. This mine was once a storage area for dry goods. Wooden beams supported doorways. There was a darkened room, that one had to climb up into to gain entrance - three or four feet off of the floor, a square entrance.
I was with two men. All of us were exploring this area. One of the men went into the squared entrance with me. It was completely dark. I had a tactical light, and he a flash light. Both of us knew that one of the merchants had been a conjurer, and that he had used this as his secret storage room for his occult paraphernalia - herbs, roots, fetishes....
The flooring of this room was a massive stone. A moss covered gray boulder. We had to watch our step, as it was very uneven. Towards the back left of the room, there was a decline. We were each looking at the shelving very intently. They were empty. I kept thinking of hair. And then my light fell upon what appeared to be the corpse of a small snake on the shelf. I certainly would not be touching that. I noticed this background noise, but I was so intent on exploring, I paid it no attention. I wished to collect some of the moss.
I noticed my friend was becoming more and more alarmed. In fact, he had begun to shout, and had run out. I snapped out of my trance, and realized that the background noise I had been hearing, was coming from the back of this room, where the stone seemed to lead downwards. It was growing in intensity. It was drawing near very quickly. It was a cacophony of howling and screams. Spirits. Many spirits were about to fall upon me. The hair on my arms stood on end. I ran to the exit.
As I emerged, the man I had been in there with was explaining to the other man, what had happened, and then he left. He was done. I continued to explain what happened to the other guy. But I kept hearing things down the corridor. I thought I saw wisps. I wanted to go back into the chamber and explore the back of it.
At this point, I believe I stepped in the chamber alone for a brief moment. I was hearing music.
I reemerged. I think the other guy was eager just to get out of the corridor where we were hearing things, so he followed me back in. He heard the music too. He debunked it as being a radio on in the adjacent chamber. I was satisfied.
We stuck close, and carefully stepped down the back face of the boulder. The moss was so thick and rich. I felt there was a small stream further down. I saw a dime. And then a nickel. I greedily grabbed the former, and he the latter. I realized these had likely been offerings to dead ancestors. That didn't bother me. I pocketed them. Silver. Old. I saw a small foreign coin. And then deep down, where I wished not to reach, a very large foreign coin. I went ahead and stuck my hand down for it, before my colleague could.
One thing was playing in my mind, while I was coin-grabbing. The gaggle of spirits - I wondered if they had been angry spirits - souls that in life had been wronged, perhaps at the hands of the conjurer - or, I wondered if these were the spirits of the conjurer, and that they were pleased to meet with flesh once again.
The scene changes. I am outside of my house, at the neighbors. Darrell's old travel bus was parked in their driveway. There was a tremendous amount of mud underneath it, out from which I was pulling coins. Another guy was with me. He was looking at old toys that were in the mud. I was more interested in the coins. He asks me what that noise is. I listen. I look to the north - towards Biltmore Village and Downtown Asheville. I hear what sounds like machinery and the scraping of earth. I see an immense crane begin to rise. It's coming alongside the house. I see men on it, and what looks to me like a woman in a dress. I ask the other guy if he sees that woman in the dress. I watch as the crane rises far above me. I see people looking down at me from the crane - and I can see through them. Suddenly the winds pick up. They become violent. I am scared. And then thousands of birds. Thousands and thousands of birds. A chaotic maelstrom of birds. I run for the back door of my house. Me and the other guy enter and slam and bolt the door. The winds are shaking the house, birds pelting it. I look out the window and trees are bowed down. It looks like a hurricane.
I'm afraid the windows will burst at any second. My mom is in the house. I think the other guy has gone to secure the front door, but when I check it, it's standing wide open. The winds and horrors are so strong, I can't get the screen door closed. I look out the window to my left. There is the massive spirit of an old hag, laying upon the ground, clawing at the winds. I forget the screen door and get the main door closed and bolted. I am in terror. I find the other guy near the attic stairs. He turns, and I see that it is my old friend Robin. I curse him and tell him that I thought he was securing the front door. I yell to he and my mom that we must get into the basement.
I wake, with all the power, and all the sopor of despair. The image of Bridget walking past me is seared in my mind. The disgust at Madonna. The horrible power of the winds. The vengefulness of thousands of swirling spirits, in all their fury.
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