I had a dream that I was living a few years forward into the future, within a very imperialist and totalitarian version of the USA that was lead by a powerful dictatrix dressed in a decorative red and black military uniform, as she served an infinite term in the Oval Office under martial law. I can’t remember much about what I was doing in this world exactly, but all I know is that while doing my routine duties as a wetnurse for a family of nobility, I ended up getting reported to the state authorities by their jealous teen daughter, because I decided to eat some caviar and drink some wine that was left over after one of their extravagant dinners. I begged and pleaded for them not to arrest me when they arrived, even gesturing to the infant I was holding, to the maid outfit I was wearing, and then to my now bare peaches that still leaked out plenty of milk. “Please, I beg of you… I am necessary to the safety of the young Master Felix. You must forgive me for this, please…,” I said in a very pleading and distraught voice, not even bothering to hold back my tears as I stared into the eyes of the authorities and my host family. The authorities seemed unfazed at my plea, yet the mother and father of the baby boy seemed to have a tinge of guilt and regret in their expressions, almost as if they were just now realizing rhe implications of giving me the axe. Before I could plead to them anymore for clemency though, I got violently grabbed by the two guards, and thrown out the front door. I hit the unyielding ground bosom first, the harsh concrete knocking the wind out of me and causing one of my ribs to crack. I held my breasts in agony, about to pass out from the pain, as I lay there writhing in pain as my eyes began to fill with tears. I grew blinded from my tears, and before long, I just sat in a periwinkle void. I’m not sure how much longer I was like that, but then suddenly, I began to hear strange chanting in an unknown language. I then stood up and wiped the tears from my eyes, filled with hope and a sense of curiousity towards the source. I quickly regretted it though, as the first thing I saw upon a quick double take was an Israeli policeman, as well as the shoreline of the Dead Sea stretching outwards as far as the eye could see. The cop then proceeded to pull out his gun, as he yelled something at me that I couldn’t quite understand. He then started jabbing me with the miniature bayonet of his handgun, forcing me over to a large obelisk. Callously, he then shackled me to the rest of the prisoners, and handed me a pickaxe. “You’re working on the obelisk now, young lady,” he said with an agressive and commanding voice. “I understand,” I replied back with a sad and meek voice, picking up the pickaxe and beginning to help the other prisoners carve out the tapered obelisk from the bottom up. I was like this for a while, baking in the scorching sun and nearly dying from thirst in the intense weather, until once when I nearly was about to passs out, I asked the prisoner next to me “how do I get out of here early?” To which he replied “demonstrating divine ability will get you a free pass out of here, but don’t expect it to be easy,” as he gestured to a lock pick he held in his hand. I then carefullly grabbed the lock pick, beginning to stealthily undo my shackles whilst I worked on mining. Once I heard the signature “click” of the locks coming undone, I then just decided to kneel and pray, saying something quietly yet passionately, along the lines of “Jesus, oh please grant me the boon of at least one miracle… that way I can prove to my savage laborers that I am not a criminal, and stand up for the working class oppressed by the new rule. Amen.” Before I then got up into a sprinting pose, and begin to run to the beach. They started yelling stuff in Israeli at me that I couldn’t understand, as well as some rudimentary English phrases like “Imprison them now!” Or “Catch that bitch!,” in an attempt to rally the populace to catch me. As I approached the waters of the Dead Sea, I saw an old catholic man stand up and run at me, seemingly heeding the words of the authority. I took in one final deep breath, exhaling stedaily as I approached the water, hoping and praying that I could recreate the water walking miracle of Jesus. I then went to step into the water, thinking with a mix of sarcasm and resignation“there’s no way this is gonna work, but I might as well still try,” as my foot hit the surface of the water. Surprisingly, it worked though, and I began to walk atop the Dead Sea itself without much difficulty. The catholic guy then stared agape, looking almost as if a cartoon character with their jaw unhinged, and the guards both stared at me motionless with Don Notz-esque expressions as they saw the feat I was performing. I then started to run across the surface of the sea, still maintaining my abilities through godly intervention, as I said excitedly “look at me! You can’t arrest me… for I am Saint Ashley, and I have been granted my powers from god himself! You can’t arrest a saintess like myself in these parts, can you?” Which, luckily, seemed to rally all of the Christian beachgoers in my favor, as they cheered and formed a human barricade to protect me from the incoming guards. Soon enough, once they saw my abilities, the guards too dropped their weapons, and strangely began to pray towards me in an odd form of reverence. I found this kinda bizarre, but I figured it was all part of God’s Plan, so I didn’t pay it any mind at first. That was, until I felt my water walking ability beginning to slowly fade, as my feet begin to sink beneath the surface like quicksand. I then carefully stepped back onto the sands of the beach—very careful not to push my abilities too far as to fall below the surface of the water—to which I then ran towards this nude catholic man of about 50-years whom was holding a gun, and had a bag full of holy water and various herbs next to his priestly robes. I figured he could vouch for my abilities, keeping me safe and pampered with his authority inside the church, now that I had demonstrated my god given abilities. He seemed to think the same, as just when I was about to pass out into his arms, he gave me a warm smile. Feeling quite safe in his presence, yet now also feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion from my prolonged dehydration, I began to pass out onto the surface of the sand. I ended up completely missing the embrace of the Catholic man, as my face and orbs became cooked and scraped by the hot and intense sands of the shoreline. I went to go get up from the sand, thinking to save myself from drowning during high tide, but the moment I tried to push myself up from the surface, I ended up jolting awake into the real world. I awoke feeling quite exhausted and thirsty, as well as having an intense ache in my face/eyes. My hormones felt fine, yet my body strangely felt hungover despite me not drinking the night before. My mood was okay after shaking off my tiredness though, and the dream oddly left me with a strange sense of comfort overall. FIN.
Your dream is rich and vivid, packed with symbolic elements that reflect your subconscious mind's processing of current events, personal insecurities, and a desire for power and liberation. Here’s a detailed interpretation of the various components of your dream:
The totalitarian version of the USA suggests concerns you may have about freedom and authority. This environment reflects feelings of being controlled or stifled in your waking life. The dictatrix in a military uniform symbolizes a powerful force that may represent authority figures you perceive as oppressive or overly controlling. The colors red and black often convey emotions of conflict, power struggles, and fear, which could point to feelings you have about societal issues or personal situations.
Being a wetnurse for a noble family indicates feelings of nurturing and caretaking, yet there's also an element of being in a subordinate position. It suggests a deep sense of responsibility but also vulnerability, as you are at the mercy of those you serve. The conflict arising from consuming the leftovers symbolizes guilt and shame—perhaps representing your internal struggle with desires and societal norms.
Your pleading for mercy not just for yourself but on behalf of the infant you tend to highlights your protective instincts. It suggests you feel that your worth and identification are wrongly judged by superficial actions, leading to a crisis of empathy. The parents' expressions of guilt may mirror your own feelings about not being recognized or valued.
The guards violently throwing you out and the ensuing physical pain point towards feelings of inadequacy and rejection. The cracked rib could symbolize emotional pain rather than merely a physical injury, reflecting the burden of your responsibilities and fears being dismissed or undervalued. Your feelings of helplessness amidst your tears signify a strong emotional release and a longing for recognition.
The transition into a periwinkle void suggests a state of almost otherworldly introspection, hinting at a pause amidst chaos. This might represent the need for escape or a temporary sanctuary from the pressures of reality. The chanting signifies a longing for meaning or guidance, drawing you towards something greater.
Finding yourself laboring on the obelisk under demeaning authority may reflect feelings about hard work, oppression, and the structure of societal systems. The obelisk often symbolizes power and the expression of authority; thus, your effort in carving it out could represent your struggle against systems you feel trapped within.
The conversation with the fellow prisoner about demonstrating divine ability reveals an internal struggle for liberation and a quest for identity—a need to rise above subjugation. Your prayer for a miracle highlights a yearning for hope and divine support, which could stem from feelings of inadequacy and a wish to prove your worth.
Walking on water represents overcoming obstacles and the pursuit of personal transcendence. This miraculous ability signals a deep-seated desire to defy limitations and expectations placed upon you. It evokes the themes of faith, hope, and empowerment, resonating with your wish to assert your position and beliefs in the face of adversity.
Waking up feeling exhausted, thirsty, and hungover despite not drinking can indicate a disconnection or aftereffect from a dream state that wrestled with heavy themes. The body’s hungover state reflects the emotional toll the dream took on you and may suggest lingering worries or unresolved emotions.
Your dream encapsulates the struggle against authoritative oppression, the yearning for recognition and respect, and the exploration of personal power through spiritual means. It speaks volumes about your current emotional and mental state, reflecting fears, aspirations, and your journey toward self-empowerment and liberation in both personal and societal contexts. It's vital to take these insights into consideration as you navigate your waking life, harnessing the sense of comfort and hope that emerged from this challenging yet transformative dream experience.