I second guessed myself a great deal whether I should even commit this post to the web. While walking up to fetch my son from Preschool it engrossed my thoughts to such an extent that it turned out to be only course of action. Perhaps in getting it all out this way it could finally be released from my mind and cease it’s nagging at me.

It must first be known that while I usually and regularly have very vivid dreams that doesn’t mean that I put that much stock in them. To me they are simply the unconscious mind cleaning our or filing away memories, feelings and other random stuff that gets filed away in the incredible vastness of the brain’s memory.

Last night was one such night, there was a whole scene of interacting with two sisters that had been my closest friends for over 6 years. That was when I was still a Witness and without going into the collapse of the friendship I got to see these sisters again and be reminded of the things I did not like. This time though I told them without hesitation what I thought and walked away, so I would assume the dream was just a way for me to find a resolution and a confirmation of my feelings and with that said and done it could be filed away in the memories oblivion to never be retrieved again.

The next part of my dream is the part that was bothering me. To explain it briefly I was walking home and I got a bit lost and instead of coming out a street I recognised, instead I was faced with a completely different vista. Street corners taken over by massive statues of demons. Every building adorned with a huge statue, portrait or pennant of a demon. I stood around gazing at this is perplexity until the tiny shards of fear congealed into a mass of cold metal in my stomach because marching all over those streets were groups of demons arresting people. They were all apparently women adorned with beautiful golden helmets that reached down the sides of their faces. As I tried to disappear into a side street one spotted me and grabbed me up, I of course struggled but her superior strength was no match for me. I started shouting what I had also shouted in my head when I had had bad dreams ‘Jehovah’ like some kind of magic charm. I said it over and over and she balked, her eyes glazing over to white, then she was back angrier than ever. “Your rite is dirty, it will not work” I shook, but said confidently. “It may be dirty, but it still stands”. She then threw me on the ground where a car was a seconds away from driving over the exact same spot. I was then getting up off the tar road and walked to the pavement with some vague realisation that I must have died.

With this I woke up and spent several seconds sifting through my mind to remember what was real and what was gain my vivid imagination. How can I explain the strangeness? The ingrained belief that chanting ‘Jehovah’ will save me is at least something I can grasp, I had done that since a young child. Even though the Witnesses will probably say chanting the name doesn’t work like that they still preach that Jehovah’s name is a strong tower and into it the righteous one runs. The golden helmets because of shine caught my attention and with some Google searching found something that could illustrate how it looked. Heimdall’s helmet was unfortunately the closest I could find.

The rest though…is anyone’s guess.