Dream – January 25, 2014 – The Wise Dream
I stepped out of the subway in search of someone who would tell me what to do, how to be. Where to find what I should do in this life. Just as I stepped out, a shiny man of rather pleasant appearance was walking toward me. He had a white hat with golden trim on his head—exactly like the one the Catholic Pope wears: tall, round, and pointy at the top. It looked like a kokoshnik. Otherwise, his outfit was quite civilian.
So, he was walking toward me, passionately opening his arms wide, glowing with his hat and broad smile. It was as if he was waiting for me. I approached him, feeling miserable, thinking that now I would ask him for help, and he already seemed to know what I was about to ask. It was as if he was about to tell me: “We’ll solve all your problems, we’ll sort out all your doubts.” I don’t clearly remember if he said this out loud, or if I imagined he said it, or if he said it telepathically and I somehow read it.
In any case, I went under his wing and said: “I want to understand what I should do in life” (while I was moaning and feeling miserable). He hugged me and said, “Let’s go.” And we went. We were walking down the street, light rain was falling, it was chilly. It was getting dark. And some confusion began to arise in my soul. Something didn’t seem right about this man in the papal hat. He was a bit suspicious. He was silent as we walked. He stopped at a corner, went behind it, pulled me in, and said, “Let’s stand here.” As if he was hiding from someone.
We stood there for a while, then he led me around another corner, and it was completely dark now. The sun had set long ago. He led me to some kind of door—more like a passageway—and there were a few young men standing there, and they seemed even more suspicious. I got scared.
I realized that it was a trap, and I had to get out of there.
So I did. I left quickly, before anything bad could happen.
Moral: No one can tell you what to do in this life or how to be. And if someone does, they are surely a fraud. Only we ourselves can determine this for ourselves.
Dream – January 31, 2014
I was given the chance to make one wish. The kind of wish that is the most treasured. So, I, not being a fool, wished to always be slim, of course. And I became so. I was walking around, strutting, with thin knees, looking all beautiful. And the one who granted my wish was agreeing with everything I said.
I was smoking weed (I don’t know where that came from in my head), with Will from the theater, a stand-up comic. He was kind of a bum in life, even though he was cute. Anyway, I smoked, and immediately, my mind was blown. I had to go on stage.
Some guy, one of the most attractive men at the party, immediately noticed me. And we were already in bed. Kissing. And another one joined us, and it turned out to be Nikolai Kozlov (I don’t know why my memory brought him up). And we were all doing it together.
We were in some house, I was wearing a white flared skirt, which fastened in front with little white buttons, and the seam along the fastening was torn. A girl from the company said, “Go sew it.” And she started looking for white thread. But I saw many needles with black thread and a spool of white thread on a corkboard on the wall in front of us. I took the spool and one needle, took out the black thread, and inserted the white one, and suddenly both threads—on the needle and the spool—turned black.
I started loudly wondering and, simultaneously, being shocked about how the thread had just been white and suddenly became black! But no one around me seemed surprised. I kept pondering this metamorphosis for a while, but I still couldn’t find a bathroom where I could take off the skirt and sew it, so I gave up on that.
Anyway, it was already morning. Apparently, the party went well. Finally, I went to the “performance”—I went on stage. There weren’t many people in the hall, and the venue looked like a village cinema. From the stage, I reminded them of who I was before. Will, who was sitting in the first row, said, “Yeah, yeah, I remember, Natasha such-and-such.” I spread my arms wide and said, “I am Natasha. Her new incarnation.” In my mind, my performance should have been a hit, as no one knew me as the new, attractive beauty. But it seemed no one cared. There was chattering in the audience. People were also chatting behind me on stage. A big guy with a guitar came out and started playing. And they grabbed me by the arms and forcibly led me off the stage.
I had very strange feelings. On one hand, I felt light, but on the other hand, it was something completely unusual. And not just because I knew I was now a very attractive woman. There was a sense of something being revealed about myself, like I knew things that ordinary people couldn’t know.
One of those things soon became clear to me: without even looking at a newspaper, without holding it in my hands, I already knew that there was a photograph in it—of me, with a bullet hole in my forehead. It was today’s photo. I went to the one who granted my wish, as he was always somewhere nearby, and I tried to get rid of the cognitive dissonance of not understanding what was happening. My mind couldn’t comprehend it. The one who granted my wish just smiled. He initially seemed to say that “the old me had to die for the new one to begin a new life.”
But, in fact, it turned out that the price of granting my wish was my death. Everything that happened after that was an illusion, as I was now a disembodied existence, a wandering soul who couldn’t change anything in this world, a homeless soul who would now wander forever, because I had rejected my former self and couldn’t now pass on the final journey with it. And the one who granted my wish turned out to be none other than Beelzebub!
I started begging him to at least let me tell my mother, so she wouldn’t cry for me, to let her know I was here, that I was alive, because my death would kill her. But Beelzebub was unyielding. He was happy with what he had done to me. I was almost crawling on my knees, and he was laughing above me on a balcony. I asked him why he had done this to me, and he responded sarcastically and mockingly, saying, “I didn’t like your character.” I realized that talking to him was pointless, so I turned to the one who always hears prayers.
I began asking God to forgive me and fix everything, or at least give me a chance to return to the point where I could make a different choice, so that this situation with Beelzebub wouldn’t happen.
And God heard my prayers!
I was in a room filled with light, with two friends. We were all in white bathrobes, and I had a towel turban on my head. It was as if we had just washed and were sitting, sparkling and chatting like good friends. In front of me was a tablet with a game. The game had just started, and I had to choose three guardians who would guide me through the game. I had already chosen two—one was a Forest Nymph, and the other an Air Fairy.
Then I remembered what had led me to meeting Beelzebub. I had tried to start this game, and I thought it would be very cool and fun to choose the Devil as my guardian. After all, it was just a game! In front of me was a list of guardians. Suddenly one of my friends began “flirting” with me, trying to press the first button she could. She didn’t realize how important this moment was, how it might affect my entire future life, and how I needed to be very careful and, most importantly, correct in choosing my guardian!
I began to struggle, while she kept pushing all the buttons more persistently, playing around, but there was no time to explain anything to her. I was trying to keep the tablet away from her, to prevent another wrong choice. I had already spotted the Angel in the list, but then I saw that a choice had been made. Silence fell.
My friends started unwrapping my towel and tilting their heads: it turned out I had just dyed my hair, and they wanted to see what color it turned out to be. They asked in unison, “Did you want ash blonde?” I flicked my head back to see in the mirror what they were so surprised about. Suddenly, as I looked at myself, they fell silent in horror. I immediately rushed to the mirror. There’s no way anyone could be so frightened by a wrongly chosen hair color.
And I realized the reason for their horror: my face was distorted with vertical asymmetry. The right eye was much higher than the left, and the reflection in the mirror was that of a monster. In my head, all the possible consequences flashed: pitying looks from those who saw me for the first time, low popularity with men, loneliness, the need to make incredible efforts to be heard and communicate…
But.
All of that seemed insignificant compared to the fact that I no longer had to communicate with the Devil! That I was not dead, and that I could change everything.
So, to my friends’ astonished looks, I began dancing around the room in a crazy, happy dance, shouting, “I’m alive! I’m alive! How wonderful that I’m alive!”
Need I say that even though I couldn’t sleep for long, I woke up just a few minutes before my alarm went off?
Dream – February 7, 2014
I was in a pioneer camp. But I wasn’t a pioneer. I was either working there or doing something else, but that hardly mattered because I was at the beach. The waves were glowing turquoise and sparkling in the sun. I couldn’t wait to jump into the water. But for some reason, I couldn’t find a place to put my wallet with the key to my “room” (I don’t remember what kind of room it was, but it was where I had stayed). I thought I had found it, but it had already gotten dark. It was strangely both light and dark at the same time.
I decided to go swimming anyway and ran to the water. On the shore sat some small children, quietly playing in the sand. They were wearing swimsuits, and their pale bodies were so endearing and innocent. And I ran into the water, but then a cold wave crashed into me and almost pulled me in. I panicked, remembering that my wallet and my key were on the beach. So I quickly rushed back to retrieve them and ran through the shallows. But everything changed.
The children I had seen before were now all grown up. They were looking at me from the shore with understanding. They now had an important and affectionate look on their faces, like they were wise beyond their years. I realized it had been only me who was still a child.