Hmm, I am guessing that something must be percolating in my unconscious. This morning, I had what seemed to be a fairly long and detailed dream. I had the sense of being in a character in a movie based on a story by Isaac Bashevis Singer, based on a Jewish folktale or something. (I think that Singer’s name came up in the dream. I don’t know if I ever broke the 4th wall in the dream.) I was the adult son in a Jewish family, and it was fairly common that deceased relatives came back as zombies. Zombies might not be the right word, as they seemed to be about as intelligent and have the same personalities as when they were alive. They were decomposing, and had kind of colorful hues all over their skin, but they didn’t seem particularly frightening. I am not sure if it was regarded as noteworthy about dead relatives coming back.
In the dream, I hadn’t thought of myself as being gay (in the dream, mind you!), but I fell in love with a slightly younger and extremely attractive guy. The family generally thought that he was up to no good, but the gay aspect didn’t seem to be that much of a major deal. I think that there was a grandmother who was warning me.
Somehow, things came out, and it turned out that pretty much everyone had been deceitful or wronged me (or each other.) It seemed to be more the product of poor judgment, rather than intended malice. I am not sure if the lover ended up looking like a zombie when this was revealed. Whether because some kind of curse had fallen, or some condition had been met, I had to leave right away, and I also could no longer have any contact with any of my family or my lover. I was leaving the house to ride away with a lesbian couple I was friends with. I was running along the stone pathway out front of the family home as the family tried to pursue and pull me back. It was like running through molasses. (The scene kind of reminded me of when Miss Celie leaves in The Color Purple.) I forget if I got to the car. Overall, the emotional feeling was more about sadness and regret, rather than fear or anger.
Not sure what, if anything, it means, although I thought about one particular situation I had recently experienced as I was getting dressed, and said “Oh!” as it might have been a representation of that.
I am not sure if the Jewish aspect came from an encounter I had this past weekend. I was out at the Zone and I ran into my friend Bob Bearfield. He wished me a Happy New Year and then said “Mazel tov! Is that the right thing to say?” I explained about the running gag about people mistaking me for being Jewish, so I had apparently had my monthly quota met early.