“I Lived in a War-Torn Country”

    Miss Margo Note:  Pouring over my dream journal today.  I had this dream in 2010, and I remember it vividly to this day.  The Kings were like Egyptian gods: human bodies with animal heads.

      You don’t have to be Sigmund Freud to figure out the symbolism, but my birds represent my heart.

     I lived in a war-torn country.  Enemies invaded the borders and marched inward with their armies.  People left their homes to become refugees on the roads, trying to walk to a safe place.  I was one of them.  I took my birds with me in a travel cage because I would not abandon them to die.  At night when it was time to sleep, you could see towns burning on the horizon where the enemies had arrived.  They were close and getting closer.  I tried to comfort my birds, who were very distressed. 

     The King of my country, who was a wolf, came for me at night.  He scooped me up and put me behind him on his horse.  I tried to shield my birdcage in my coat. He rode us hard, far ahead, into the desert where we were all alone.  The desert was familiar and the sky had a million stars!  Then he pulled me off the horse and raped me.  He was huge, the size of an automobile.  I couldn’t help it. 

     As soon as he was done, he looked over his shoulder and said, “They’re coming!  We have to get away!”  He put me on his back, which was covered by a royal scarlet cape, and started to run.  He was so fast that it was scary.  I held on for dear life. There was nothing to help us in the desert; nowhere to hide. 

I looked behind me and saw his enemies coming in the distance.  There was a Lion King, a Tiger King, and a Doberman Pincher King.  They had crowns and capes.  They had united against him, the Wolf king.  They were coming to take him. 

     Wolf King was sweating and running so fast that I was terrified.  But I saw the other Kings get closer and closer.  Eventually, they caught us, and Wolf King tripped and landed in the dirt and I went flying. 

     They took Wolf King as a prisoner and then came over to me.  I said that Wolf King had kidnapped me and that I was not with him voluntarily.  They did not believe me.  Before my eyes, they released the birds from my cage while I cried and begged them not to do it.  My birds flew away to a certain death.

2 thoughts on ““I Lived in a War-Torn Country””

  1. I pored (sic) over this and was moved to tears.

    It’s interesting how easily animals become metaphoric representations of the fundamental experiences of the human condition, and in particular human suffering.

    I have not been able to see the movie ‘War Horse’ because I know I would embarrass whoever I was with by weeping uncontrollably. I would weep not only for the needless suffering of the horse, but for that of a generation cruelly sacrificed, as James Joyce points out, for an abstract idea.

    Similarly I can’t re-read Zola’s ‘Germinale’ because of the scene at the end in which the pit is flooded and the pit-pony is drowned.

    So you saved the worst bit of your dream for the end, and ambushed me.



  2. Hi Tony;

    This dream is a total Freudian shitshow, right down to being raped by a werewolf, which is another reoccurring theme in my nightmares, and btw no, I was not molested as a child, which is what everyone is always curious about and which was probably the only bullet I dodged in childhood.

    I almost never cry in the movies. Sometimes I tear up a little when watching nature programs and the baby gazelle gets it, or something.

    Would respond more, but I have to run to work!

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