The Ax, dream by millka -- Sept. 13, 2012
This is a very militarized quasi dictatorial society. People who rebel against the system are thrown in jail, tortured, lots of them die. I was put in jail for years and just went out. I find a world where people can live “normally” even though there is no real political freedom (in fact, it looks JUST like our world, a little more crowded and with a little less technology, electricity and comfort).
The reason I was in jail is because I was among the rebels, people who raised their voices to complain about the non-democratic and extremely unfair nature of this society. I didn’t die there; I guess I was tortured but not as bad as others. When I go out, I meet past “comrades” who didn’t even go to jail. When I meet them I wonder how come they didn’t go, but of course I know why. They gave others to the authority in exchange of their own freedom. When I get out of jail, I am ashamed to still be alive when so many of my friends and fellow activist did die in there. The past “comrade” I meet, clearly are happy that they didn’t go to jail. And I can see their petty, selfish minds being relieved that they didn’t have to go. At the same time, I can feel how terrible they feel inside, being responsible for the death of their past friends.
I go to the house of one of my female friends who died in jail. I need to get something from her bedroom (or leave something I am not sure). It is partly in the hope that she’ll reappear, and partly in order to mourn losing her. As I am searching, looking around in her bedroom, her mother (a 6’6 = 2m strong, well-built woman) comes in. She knew I was in here. She vaguely talks to me, about her daughter, about our activism. She clearly has no interest whatsoever about what happened in jail, what her daughter thought, went through, etc. After pretending to want a conversation with me, she orders me to get out. I have only the time to voice one word of protest before she pulls out a GIANT ax form behind her back. And says: “I told you to go OUT”. Of course, I collect my belongings as fast as I can a get out by the bay window. She clearly would not have waited any longer. And in fact, as soon as I left, she is clearly regretting that she didn’t cut me in two when she had a chance.
I am in the street now, and realize that I forgot my scarf in there. If I leave the scarf I won’t have a scared, may be ever again. I won’t be able to find one ever. Plus it has sentimental value becomes it is from the past world, before jail. Therefore I go to try and find it. The woman now has it around her neck. She doesn’t wear it because she is cold, but as a trophy - and as a reminder that she should not let me go, ever again.
I therefore decide to go, it is pointless to fight with a 6’6 woman with a giant ax. Plus, the real sadness is that I lost my friend. I wanted to honor her memory but she’ll never come back. And compared to that, nothing else matters. As I walk down the street, a man (may be 20 years older than me) interjects me. He might be my friend’s dad or softball coach, something like that. He approaches me in a dad/teacher like fashion. Like he cares about me, wants to teach me and protect me. He says he is going to pass me a baseball ball. But for this pass, I have to turn my back to him and we keep walking. Yes, it is a weird way to pass the ball, but in the dream it was vaguely acceptable. As I turn and wait for the ball, at the same time I feel it; I also feel a knife digging deep inside my back, between the ribs. I turned to him, not believing the situation, how mean he is and how dumb I was. I now lucidly intervene in the dream – I usually find ways to save myself because I am so scared to see what is next. So, I give myself enough energy to remove the knife from my back. The knife is more of a very big curved sword, the type that we imagine the Sarasin carrying around on their horses.
[I am not so sure about this part and need to skip a little] I then am in the metro. Going back to my base, where I saw all the former “comrades”. [In fact, I think the place in question is Harvard Square and Harvard is the community that I am going back to]. I walk around in a very big building that seems to contain a little society in it. I am partly an outcast in that world, as might have been made clear from the first part of the dream. I go back to what used to be my apartment. It has been emptied and restructured and now holds 3 families: the apartment has been cut in little pieces to host more people. I go there and there is a party, this is where I meet some of the betraying past “comrades”. The discussions with them are tricky. I am not even angry at them. Mostly, it is because I cannot afford to be angry. I am weak, poor, I have nothing, I just came out of jail, and most of my friends are dead. As sketchy as these people are, at least, we used to share some ideals and adventures at some point.
After walking around, avoiding guards, cops and poorly intentioned people some of which trying to put me back in jail, I enter a room full of tents, and full all my past Occupy friends!!! I am so happy when I see them. And here is ABUNDANCE, mostly what they have are tents. In this world, it means a lot – just because people are so poor. But also, it means so much because it feels like once I am in a tent, nothing can happen to me. I cannot get hurt, nobody can come and arrest me. It is like disappearing from this crooked and rotten world. I am happy to find my friends there (Fenna and others). And I am very happy to have a tent again.
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