Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Erotic Dream or Night Terror

I am one of those people who can remember their dreams, vividly. It's funny because some of those dreams become part of my memory. I mean I know its a dream but I remember it like any event that happened in my life. Most of my dreams are just of regular events, like visiting or having an encounter with friends, relatives or even strangers. Many of my dreams include those who have been dead for a while now.  The dreams vary with good messages from the dead and some dreams that may be disturbing.

Growing up the in the 1960's and being part of the Indian Catholic Boarding school system, I had been instilled with the horrors of Hell and the Devil. Hard to unlearn something that has been drilled into you. So for much of my life growing up, the Devil was as real as the kitchen fridge. So when the Devil comes to you in a dream it is god-damn scary. 

The damn Devil when he comes into the dream he comes like a tricky snake. He comes but not dressed as himself, he uses disguises, and sometimes he is just damn sexy. As an old guy I don't really have very much erotic dreams or dreams of the devil. I still have them but not as a regular occurrence. Oh by the way young folk, nocturnal emissions seem to be regulated to you. Old folk don't go that far. So in my dreams, there were hints of erotica, like Stormy Daniels but in the end it was a demon, more like Donald Trump.

Growing up  in the Reserve we had one of those Canada Centennial project arenas.  A beautiful wooden beam barn style arena. The Federal Minister of Indian Affairs, Jean Chretien skated with the Fort Alexander Braves hockey team in that arena.
Old style barn arena 
In the arena there were dressings rooms in a basement area. It was spooky as all hell. It was dark, damp dingy and the lighting was not very bright. In my dream I was in the basement there. I looked up at the top of the stairs and there was this dark figure there. It had a long black robe on and some small red patterns on the robe. The person walked down the stairs. I ran I was scared. I ran into one of the dressing rooms and it was dark but you could still see. The figure came into the room and it turned out to be a woman. In my dream I went from being scared to excited. I was quickly becoming aroused. The Woman grabbed me and I thought it was going to involve sex. She grabbed me by the arm and the back of the neck and she started to spin me around.  I asked "where are we going?" She said "you're going ... to hell" as she spun me round and round. The word Hell seemed to be drawn out as I was spinning and starting to spiral to hell. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't break free. The Devil had me. I came to in my bed for a second trying to scream but couldn't and as quick as I felt that I was in my bed I was back in the dream, struggling, trying desperately to scream and grab at her. I finally woke up. Damn Devil had me in his grip and it was horrible.

In my dream I was walking on the shoreline, and there was a woman there with her child. The child was in the water. The woman started screaming. There was a boat on the shore. I jumped in a rowed out into the water with the waves getting higher. I got the little girl into the boat and brought her safely to shore.  The woman came to me and to thank me. I was feeling pretty good about myself. The woman hugged me in a very tight embrace. I was getting excited as she was hugging me tighter. It was going to be sex; erotic stuff. The hug became tighter and tighter and I couldn't breathe. She started to turn into a snake and I knew it was the Devil. I was being choked to death. I tried to fight, to scream but it seemed like nothing could escape from my throat. I don't remember how I got out.

I tell you the Devil is a snake. He comes to you in a dream and disguises himself as a sexy woman. You welcome the embrace, the opportunity to fornicate. To indulge in coitus.

Now that I am older I still have dreams, or terror night mares, but I always fight and want to win in those fight.  A few times I have woken myself up when my hand, my fist hits the wall. The devil does not come disguised as woman anymore.

For some reason I no longer fear the Devil. I lost fear of a number of things. The fear of dogs. The fear of being hurt. The fear of dying. Quite frankly there are days I long for death. I think it has to do with my Son dying from suicide. You kind of lose a lot of things after something like loss to suicide.

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