Perhaps I’ve died.
That’s what I think for some reason.
My consciousness has completely been cut off. Like the type of non-REM sleep where you don’t dream. My ego has completely disappeared. I’d be fine if that’s how things ended, with mere pain. I can’t take any more of this nightmare where I keep having to fight the urge to vomit.
“U-Ugh......”
However, my ego has been restored.
I wake up. Though talking about waking up from a dream is strange for me.
In Jungian psychology, the ego and the self are clearly separated. The self includes that universal unconsciousness and all that one is. The ego is only one part of your mind, that actualized, self-aware part.
For the time that we’re awake in reality, that’s our surface consciousness. While we’re asleep, that’s our hidden unconsciousness. It’s the ego that takes action. The ego’s goal is to grasp all that there is to the self and take control of it. The conscious and unconscious, all of it lumped together, comprehending all of it and drawing it closer to yourself.
Perhaps collecting those things I’ve called Effects, things that seem to have a grand significance within the dreams, has a significance unto itself.
Your heart embraces all of these things, completed. Perhaps in order to grant you equilibrium.
But what does it meant to gather all of the Effects and become complete? Somehow I get the feeling that I’ve made a fundamental miscalculation. For you, gathering Effects is surely a way to unify yourself, to gather your mind together and take control, or at least that might be the result. But there’s still something else......
“Where am I?”
I’ve been so caught up thinking about you that I’ve become careless.
I take an overdue look around me. Like investigating a part of yourself that you normally pay no mind to, unaware of it.
There’s a sensation like my body is falling apart. My blood, flesh, and bones, likely a pulpy mess. I’m pulverized, though I can’t see it — it’s likely the type of horrible scene no one would want to see anyway.
Blood still trickles out.
But I am in a world of such deep crimson, so it doesn’t bother me.
“What is this place......?”
I stand in that dark-red, long, and narrow hallway. It’s like being inside of a blood vessel. Even as we dream, our bodies are still moving. Our pulses still pound. Like being inside a biological function itself, like being inside the conducting wire of a circuit.
The floor, walls, and ceiling are all blood-red. It’s extremely narrow. I can barely move my body.
It’s so cramped, and on top of that, sweltering, like a boiling kettle pot.
It’s like Hell.
I really must be dead — and now I’ve fallen into Hell, likely being judged for some sin.
But, what exactly is the sin that I have committed?
“......”
I shake my head.
This is also a dream.
I’ve traveled through so many hellish scenes before now. I seem to have fallen into this place while distracted, so it must be connected to another area. Perhaps it’s part of that collective unconscious, that living creation embraced by all humankind.
No matter which country, each land has a myth depicting a Hell-like place.
It is a nightmare shared by all humankind.
“Huff, ungh...” Breathing heavily, I run my hand along the wall, returning to some sense of serenity.
I think back.
I had been dragged along and tossed into that mysterious room by those monochromatic sisters, then completely trampled, causing me to lose consciousness. In an attempt to avoid the tortures of Hell, I parted with my ego. That’s true torture.
If it’s too painful, humans will cast off even the most basic forms of reason and become like beasts. Having lost all reason and discretion, they’ll respond to anything you tell them. They’ll believe even the most ridiculous ideas.
That’s my current state.
That’s why the words of those monochromatic girls cling to my head still.
Even though it was all likely rubbish.
There is no meaning in dreams.
Nevertheless, the scenery changes once again. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like those monochromatic girls have followed me here. Beasts can neither read comics nor understand text. Such good times are over.
This is a biological area, just pulsating, living.
I stand in that blood-drenched passageway and ponder.
I don’t want to keep experiencing this nightmare forever.
In order to reach a compromise with my ego, I need to understand more.
There are plenty of hints. There are plenty of things within the dreams that seem to be symbolic. I consider them, investigate them, and come up with a deduction, finally achieving a breakthrough in my current situation.
However, interpreting dreams is hard, even for a specialist.
For example, when a dog appears in a dream.
Dogs are generally bad signs.
In real life, dogs are relatively dangerous beings. They bark. They’re dirty. And they may even bite you.
That’s just the general viewpoint though.
But if you’re the type of person who loves dogs like a family member, then a dog will certainly be a happy symbol for you. On the other hand, for someone who was bitten by a dog and almost died, a dog would be a brutal, repulsive sign of unease and disaster. It might also change based on the dog breed, or how exactly the dog is involved in the dream. Like whether you’re playing with the dog, or being chased by it, or have even become a dog—
The mind cannot be seen. It has no mass. One cannot investigate it with a microscope.
So it can’t be explained by common viewpoints. It cannot be explained by scientific formula. Numerical formulas are completely inapplicable.
It’s about what kind of life that person has led. What they’ve experienced, who they’ve met, what kind of books and comics they’ve read. What their cultural sphere of influence is, what their religious beliefs are, what their parents are like, who they’ve loved.
Even if you have a complete understanding of that person, it may not be enough. There might be memories that person isn’t even aware of that are influencing them, thus dream interpretation can be very hard. An examination or treatment of the mind can fail due to misdiagnosis. It’s impossible to resolve the problem through medication or surgery.
There is no option other than to go through a rigorous cycle of conjecture, treatment, adjustment, and repeat.
That’s what I am supposed to do though. There are numerous symbols. Luckily, I am able to see them. Numerous symbols are scattered about these dreams.
Organizing them, assessing their nature.
The Effects are a good starting place. They are things that have left a major impression within the mind, symbols that can have a major impact on their surroundings. They’re like keys to explain the heart, and analyzing each one is like visualizing the full picture of a jigsaw puzzle from what is drawn on each piece.
Lamp. Cat. Knife. The Fat. Long hair.