The Adventures, Mishaps and Musings of Me

So, entries of late have got very rambly and uniformative (more then usual I mean). The following continues that trend!

Usually, I don't dream at all when I sleep, but my God have I had the craziest, most vivid dreams the past few naps. Firstly, I had a dream COMPLETELY in Italian, which was utterly bizzare. As in, dream me spoke and thought in Italian (seemingly better then real me speaks and thinks in Italian). I was talking to the receptionist lady in my dormitory who was trying to explain to me something about payments and reciepts without using words like "reciepts" (except in the dream, of course, "ricevute") because she thought I wouldn't understand, so instead was describing the 'tricky' nouns, instead of using them. Dream me got very annoyed with her and tried to exlplain that I would understand her if she used the actual words instead of just describing them. She wouldn't listen. Dream me got cross.

OK, I have to write this down in case I forget it, which is the way most of my dreams go.  And this one was completely bizzare, rather vivid and most definately unsettling.  

I was in the midst of a medieval style battle (fighting for who or why I do not know) in a hall when, in the midst of this, my brother stabbed me in the back with a particulaly long (I distinctly remember the look of it) dagger.  After being stabbed (and with the battle still raging on) I staggered over to my sister who I asked to remove the dagger, which was nastily lodged in my back (another detail I remember distinctly).  She did so, which led to a huge amount of blood loss on my part, I could literally feel the fluids leaking out of me and in the dream I knew there was no way I was going to survive, I knew I was going to die.  But, instead of panicking, dream me was just completely content and at peace with the idea of dying.

Someone (I'm not sure who, possibly my sister) suggested that I should go to the hospital, but I refused saying that I didn't think there was any point and that I would rather die where I was.  But, there was someone else (a random dream character) who was injured and needed to go to hospital and so I accompanied them in the car to keep them company with no intent of recieving medical treatment myself.

In the car, resting my head against the window I could feel life ebbing away from me and, in the dream, I was smiling.  Completly at peace with death.  And then I woke up, gently, with the weird feeling of utter contentness still present. 

My subconcious can be rather poetic at times.  And Shakesperian in it's use of plot devices such as "being stabbed in the back a family member".