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Nightweird
Jul. 24th, 2003 09:28 amI don't often talk about my dreams in this journal. MOstly because the dreams I tend to have are chaotic, oddball, and confusing. Last night's was different.
I was back in uniform, but as a full lieutenant in the Coast Guard rather than a lowly LTJG. I was in an airport, a bit dingy, not as 'modern' as many Western international airports: no metal detectors that I could see, no steel and glass walkways. In fact it looked rather like the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, with a big stairway along the back wall and manned stations instead of turnstiles.
I was assigned to take this fellow to the terminal. He's a POW being repatriated back to his home country. I don't really remember what country his uniform came from; it was a green jacket, olive, and his rank insignia was three gold or yellow chevrons, point downward, on a red field, with some kind of crest nested in the cusp of the topmost chevron; if anyone with a better grasp of military insignia out there can tell me what rank and nation's military this might be from, I'd appreciate it. I want to say he was Chinese, but thinking back he could have been NOrth Korean; thi slends a rather ominous note to this dream. I've only had one or two dreams which 'came true' (truth; one of these dreams I wrote down about a year before a nearly identical incident happened in my waking hours) and they never come true exactly like how I dream them. Still, with the current state of events, the tensions between the US and North Korea. I'm wondering if I won't be back in uniform anytime soon.
As we ride the elevator down to the airport he's mentioning how he's been interrogated, a bit of a euphemism for tortured: suspended by his hands, and somewhat lightly battered about. NOt painful, it sounds, just terminally uncomfortable. I'm reasonably certain that I knew this sort of thing was going on inthe world of my dream; I'm also reasonably confident that this is treatment of POWs that's simply Not Done in Western militaries. (I would not be surpised if certain elements undertake this sort of activity, though. Speaking of which, has anyone heard anything more about the British Royal Marine who had taken pictures of him and his peers doing various unpleasant things to Iraqi prisoners? That was in the news for a total of two days before it completely evaporated from all sight.)
On the way to the terminal counter, I passed this guy in uniform who addressed me as "Lieutenant." I recognize him, I've seen him before in real life, but I can't remember from where. I want to say he was in the Coast Guard with me but I can't remember; he might have been another guy in my job at Routledge Publishing. It's mildly irritating since I can't remember his name or where I remember him from.
I saw the POW to the terminal, and made my way back up the stairs... and that's where the dream ends. I'm extremely fortunate; I opened my eyes and saw the timebeing 7:48. I'd forgotten to set my alarm clocks the night before.
Throughout this nightweird, I was hearing the Moonlight Sonata, at least I think it was that. It might have been something slow and melancholy by Gershwin. Well, it was slow and melancholy, all the same. The dream bothers me because I don't think I want to go back into uniform, not after trying to forge my own life for for myself after all these years and really starting to succeed in that.
In other news, I am approaching DONE status on my demo reel and have started reaching out to companies whom I would like to work with. It's far too soon to be at all hopeful about any of them, mind you. However, I should have a very nice demo reel sometime soon. Which reminds me, I need to update my web site with Things.
I seem to have also finally won the war against the ants. Copious amounts of plant-oil insecticide and the help of a few hungry spiders seems to have worked for now, unless there's a nest of the sub-miniature atomic horrors tucked away somewhere.
Not much else is happening. Better be back to work on the project.
I was back in uniform, but as a full lieutenant in the Coast Guard rather than a lowly LTJG. I was in an airport, a bit dingy, not as 'modern' as many Western international airports: no metal detectors that I could see, no steel and glass walkways. In fact it looked rather like the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, with a big stairway along the back wall and manned stations instead of turnstiles.
I was assigned to take this fellow to the terminal. He's a POW being repatriated back to his home country. I don't really remember what country his uniform came from; it was a green jacket, olive, and his rank insignia was three gold or yellow chevrons, point downward, on a red field, with some kind of crest nested in the cusp of the topmost chevron; if anyone with a better grasp of military insignia out there can tell me what rank and nation's military this might be from, I'd appreciate it. I want to say he was Chinese, but thinking back he could have been NOrth Korean; thi slends a rather ominous note to this dream. I've only had one or two dreams which 'came true' (truth; one of these dreams I wrote down about a year before a nearly identical incident happened in my waking hours) and they never come true exactly like how I dream them. Still, with the current state of events, the tensions between the US and North Korea. I'm wondering if I won't be back in uniform anytime soon.
As we ride the elevator down to the airport he's mentioning how he's been interrogated, a bit of a euphemism for tortured: suspended by his hands, and somewhat lightly battered about. NOt painful, it sounds, just terminally uncomfortable. I'm reasonably certain that I knew this sort of thing was going on inthe world of my dream; I'm also reasonably confident that this is treatment of POWs that's simply Not Done in Western militaries. (I would not be surpised if certain elements undertake this sort of activity, though. Speaking of which, has anyone heard anything more about the British Royal Marine who had taken pictures of him and his peers doing various unpleasant things to Iraqi prisoners? That was in the news for a total of two days before it completely evaporated from all sight.)
On the way to the terminal counter, I passed this guy in uniform who addressed me as "Lieutenant." I recognize him, I've seen him before in real life, but I can't remember from where. I want to say he was in the Coast Guard with me but I can't remember; he might have been another guy in my job at Routledge Publishing. It's mildly irritating since I can't remember his name or where I remember him from.
I saw the POW to the terminal, and made my way back up the stairs... and that's where the dream ends. I'm extremely fortunate; I opened my eyes and saw the timebeing 7:48. I'd forgotten to set my alarm clocks the night before.
Throughout this nightweird, I was hearing the Moonlight Sonata, at least I think it was that. It might have been something slow and melancholy by Gershwin. Well, it was slow and melancholy, all the same. The dream bothers me because I don't think I want to go back into uniform, not after trying to forge my own life for for myself after all these years and really starting to succeed in that.
In other news, I am approaching DONE status on my demo reel and have started reaching out to companies whom I would like to work with. It's far too soon to be at all hopeful about any of them, mind you. However, I should have a very nice demo reel sometime soon. Which reminds me, I need to update my web site with Things.
I seem to have also finally won the war against the ants. Copious amounts of plant-oil insecticide and the help of a few hungry spiders seems to have worked for now, unless there's a nest of the sub-miniature atomic horrors tucked away somewhere.
Not much else is happening. Better be back to work on the project.
