By Henry Garnett
The Death of Me
Last night I had a ridiculously vivid dream where I killed myself as another person. I pinned myself to the ground and cut off my own head with a bread knife in all the gore I could imagine. It felt like Tarantino movie with less artistic vision. The blood was everywhere. I was pretty relieved to find out it wasn’t real as I jolted awake but so puzzled with how believable it actually was. I can’t trust my brain.
I used to keep a dream journal and record whatever I remembered every morning whilst I learnt to lucid dream. This morning I dove back into some research of dreaming and tried to understand what last night meant, if anything at all. There are some credible theories that consider dreams as a load of incoherent BS that your subconscious throws out there from everything it can’t make sense of during the day. It’s unconnected and nonsensical to what your thoughts actually are. That could well be the case, but I am not sure I believe it.
Looking into it, to dream of murder apparently indicates you are “putting to death” something in your life. So death in a dream represents change… murder in particular is going to represent feeling as if you are forcing change, or abruptly making changes in your life. I have made some fairly big changes in my daily routines and am no longer enslaved to the old tobacco weed, but I still don’t feel like that should make me want to kill myself in a dream.
Dreams about killing someone can also be expressions of hidden anger or rage. Maybe thats D&AD’s fault? Maybe I’m getting furiously bored of burgers and football? I don’t think thats true though, I’ve actually weirdly enjoyed getting stuck into them as much as it can be stressful. Whilst I’ve been working on the briefs today I haven’t really had too much time to contemplate exactly what my dream meant in relation to this my life and subconscious experience, but I think it means something good. I know I have suppressed a lot of frustration with myself over the last couple years, but then again who hasn’t. Overall I’m actually pretty proud of the changes and habits I’ve made over the last few weeks, and if that means I’m going to die a terrible death every night then so be it. I’ll just stop watching Tarantino films for now.