Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I've seen the eyes of Satan.

So I've been having a lot of nightmares lately... which isn't all that surprising since an unsettled heart tends to breed an unsettling subconscious. They're not the kind of nightmares being chased around the dark city by a masked villain (although I don't particularly want those in my life either), but the kind that make you wake up in cold sweat with your heart pounding through the sheets and immediately have tears pouring out of your eyes. And you can't remember why all this physical melodrama occurred until later in the day when your mind provides you with slumbered images and feelings.

Don't you just want to slash these kinds of dreams up with a chainsaw?

Anyway, I know my dream last night was about Dr. Shark though I don't remember the details. He might have been there in physical form, or merely as just an idea. But as much as he has affected my life, that one idea can crush mountains.

I heard that sleep studies found that, on average, humans have at least seven dreams in one night but we really only remember one or two if any at all. So the "big picture" of my restless sleep last night was, duh, of Dr. Shark. But the visual aspect of my slumber that I do remember is of.... a lobster.

Yes, I was haunted by the ugly, little, red, delicious crustacean of the sea.

Literally haunted, mind you, not just metaphorically in terms of this post. So as to keep my thoughts in order and to curb as much confusion as possible, I'm going to write my dream in a blocked quote box, k? Here we go, folks...

My friends and I are gathered together for one of our lovely, cozy seafood nights. One of us brings live crabs, another some shrimp, and another pounds upon pounds of Cajun crawfish. Dee-licious! We cook, we drink, and--most importantly--we eat and devour. We fill our bellies to our hearts content and we're joyous and merry with good company. Afterwards, we start cleaning up our platefuls of empty shellfish and wiping down the tables. I go to dump some exoskeleton chunks into a trash bag when--lo and behold--I see a lobster staring up at me from it! He's a poor, emaciated lad, mostly an ugly faded pink color instead of the vibrant red of a healthy crustacean. But he's definitely alive... and staring at me with his black, beady eyes.

Naturally, I flip a shit. Admittedly, this shit that's been flipped is a little bit more dramatic and superfluous than a simple rogue lobster should warrant--but this is a dream afterall and things can be over-the-top! So as I'm standing in a corner, screaming and crying my head off, one of my friends spears the dying lobster with a stick and quickly removes it from my sight. I calm down and life goes on. 
Where it actually goes in my dream, I'm not sure, but wherever I happened to be... that fucking grumpy lobster was there. Staring at me. Dying. But still staring and refusing to die while doing so. And Dream Me never felt safe again. 
The End.

What the fuck does this all mean?!

I've read too many astrological and dream interpretation books as an angsty teen to believe it has no meaning. I don't think about lobsters on a daily basis and rarely ever get to eat one, and have never ever killed one. So why is there a near-death, seemingly angry and judgemental lobster following me around in Slumberland? What is it trying to achieve?

I guess we should analyze the lobster in relation to humans and our society. What do lobsters signify to us? Well, they're deliciously tender and are typically considered to feed the most top class of us; I always picture whole cooked lobster sitting on a bed of greens atop a $5,000 china plate. But this is irrelevant since I didn't actually eat the lobster in my dream. What else could it symbolize?

Ah. Ross and Rachel.

You know what I'm talking about, people of Earth. Phoebe said it best: "It's a known fact that lobsters fall in love and mate for life. You can actually see old lobster couples walking around their tank, you know, holding claws."

The night is not long enough for me to delve into the symbolism behind the dying lobster chained to haunt subconscious Mizkay. And conscious Mizkay is currently so freakin' tired.

He's her lobster.

No comments:

Post a Comment