When I was in the second grade, I liked this girl in my class named Martha. It felt weird for me to "like" a girl, because I used to think that they all had the "cooties" and were no good. As things would have it, we always smiled at each other and she would blush at me when we were at lunch and in class. It was shortly after one of these "baby crush" episodes of mine that I remember dreaming about being her "hero" and saving her from an unnamed bad guy in a a dream that seemed incredibly real. I was swinging around liek Tarzan on rope/vines in the concrete jungle and it felt great!! I then remember waking up and feeling like my dream was real and the wakining world felt like an illusion to me. It wasn't until a few minutes had passed, after I had passed out of my stupor, until I realized what had happened was just a dream---much to my sadness and surprise. The whole experience felt like it was real enough for me to not wake up. I know it wasn't a lucid dream, but it felt as if my psyche's emotions were letting loose on the dream plane. Strange enough, I didn't remember much about this 2nd grade crush after I had this dream, other than the fact that I was her hero in my dream. Something which I thought, at the time, most cookie crunching, fruit roll-up eating second graders, couldn't all claim...(too bad I was wrong).
Comments (1)
Man, if this isn't Freudian wish fulfillment I don't know what is. It's interesting that the only way your juvineille brain could construct this metaphor was through a melodramatic conflict. Like swinging around the playground like Tarzan or rescuing the damsel tied to the train tracks by the mustachioed fiend. You might say that deep in our subconscious, the dark Freudian part of our brains, that melodrama is the only natural plot.
Posted by John A. Dreams | December 5, 2006 1:52 PM
Posted on December 5, 2006 13:52