A dungeon

Last night, among other things, I dreamed of a sort of dungeon.

We were in a very large building. Perhaps I was a researcher, an intern, a journalist, a new employee, or had some other reason to be given a tour and to be learning about what happens in this building, what this organization is about. It might be a college. It might be some kind of research and development think tank or something.

The part I remember is being shown to another stairwell — not the pretty kind intended for visitors, but the back corner kind, with all sorts of exposed pipes and ducts, industrial paint, very narrow, with narrow and steep stairs, many many floors down and down below the earth.

We were going to where the really bad stuff happens. The stuff that should discredit the whole organization. The stuff they would say is necessary and fruitful despite its appearance of evil. I’m expecting rows of solitary confinement cells — torture — that kind of thing.

But down there is just one large room — plain, bare — tables and chairs, no windows, nothing to do. It is a little like a day room in a psych ward, except no tv or board games or magazines or anything. Several people are sitting around doing nothing. They are all mentally retarded, or suffering from mental illness. The person giving me the tour sits down — does he engage them in conversation? or just sit there? I can’t remember.

Later in the dream there are two other parts whose relevance to this part I’m not entirely sure of.

One is a large public square kind of thing, surrounded by tall buildings with balconies. “The Jews” are gathering here, planning something or coming to discuss something that needs resolution. There is anger, anxiety, urgent concern. I think I have information that is important to the topic at hand. I think I am helping, even though it feels awfully dangerous, and even though I am uncertain of the information I have.

The other part seems much less immediately relevant, but perhaps is connected anyway — perhaps by contrast. I’m in a light room, getting out of bed, choosing a light sweater to wear, getting ready to go join some people, for breakfast perhaps.

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2 thoughts on “A dungeon

  1. All I can say is Freud would have a heyday. That is weird and unsettling, nonetheless. I hope your day got better after waking up.

    Hilary

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