Alex Peak

2008/07/03:  Walking with Freddy Kruger

Also available in .txt.

I slept for around thirteen hours, so much of my dream is probably lost to the realm of “forgottenness.”

I recall at some point losing my ability to walk.  At some points, I was a vegetable in a wheelchair; at others, I was fully operational, sans my legs.  I recall needing to climb some sort of scaffolding to get to my family.  I also think I recall sitting on a bus of some sorts.

At some point in the dream, I know I’m sleeping.  Perhaps I knew because of the presence of Freddy Kruger, or because of the presence of multiple copies of the same family member.  Or, perhaps I figured out I was sleeping prior to either of these.

Since I do not recall what order it was in which this stuff took place, I’ll simply place Kruger after my grandmother in this entry.

I became convinced in my dream that I was sleepwalking, which I knew I had never done before.  I was not actually sleepwalking, but in my dream, I became convinced I was when I saw my grandmother in two separate places at virtually the same time.  It was my conclusion that I was half asleep, and half awake.  Because of my sleepwalking, I concluded, I was actually interacting with my actual grandmother.  (I wasn’t, but this is what I concluded.)  Since I was technically still dreaming in my dream, when I went to another room and saw my grandmother there, I could conclude that she was not my real grandmother, but rather simply a figment of my dream.  For, after all, my real grandmother had to be sitting on the steps, where I had just interacted with her.  (In reality, my grandmother was not on the steps, and both of these two grandmothers were figments of the dream, not simply the one in the room.  But I can be stupid when dreaming.)

It seemed to me that I was fading in and out of dreaming.  Perhaps, I had concluded, I am dreaming only part of the time.  (The reality, again, is that I was dreaming the entire time.)

I also encountered Freddy Kruger last night.  He was darker this time than he has been in past dreams.  Once again, he was annoying.  He never actually me caused physical pain, but that is because he is easy to fight.  I knew that nothing I did to him was going to kill him, yet I fought him anyway.  I’m not sure why I do that.

I distinctly remember being close to his face, and using his clawed hand to cut into his face.  The wound looked like rotten meat.

I don’t know if I actually did this in the dream or not, but I get the impression I just started to ignore him after that, figuring it pointless to fight him.  But if I actually did that, why did I not do that sooner?  Why did I bother trying to stab the bastard?  I should know how completely futile that is.

Moving on, I recall walking from Hawkins Hall toward Lecture Hall with a box in my arms, and running into Jimmy Little.  We exchange words quickly, before I continue on my way.