Ymir

This was recent. Maybe before the bloody teeth dream but I thought a lot about it and I didn't wanted to post it till I understand it full. I have my own take on this, but someone else's help might help. I know that this site is not about making sense of dreams, but maybe someone could help me understand it better.

In this dream I walk through a strange rundown building, neither an office building or a hospital but a strange mix of the two. There is no furniture in the building and there is debris everywhere. The glass from the big windows are missing and outside is dark and there's a full moon. I'm in one of the floors, elevated from the ground although I do not know which one exactly. I walk through the corridor, avoiding the glass shards and debris in my way and occasionally looking out the window. I'm in first person view. I only where a black shirt, black pants and no shoes or socks that's why I walk super carefully. Another important part is that I do not know if I am man or woman - in my dreams I frequently change genders, like it has no meaning to my dream self whether I am one or another. Now I am none.

On the end of the corridor there is a hospital emergency door, in pretty good shape. I open the door and enter the empty room. There is no medical equipment in the room but here to is junk and debris, the middle of the room stands a very old wardrobe, one from my childhood that usually contains my parents clothes and the same one that once I needed to paint white. It is a little bit dull now, but empty and stands wide open.

I can make the decision of whether get into it or not. I do not think this is lucid dreaming because this where like options like in a video game: yes or no. I choose yes and get inside the wardrobe closing it. Inside there was darkness but there was a triangle shaped keyhole which I could peep through. It was oozing this strange orange light.

When I look through it I see a strange, small and pathetically empty room. But it was still littered with papers and books, like a room of a very busy writer, but without any place to put the papers so they just piled up and went forgotten. Before the wardrobe where I could see stood an old and plain table, like a small dining table for two or four person, but now it was pushed up to the wall and burdened with papers and books, the same way like the floor was. There's an uncomfortable wooden chair that is shoved aside and a man standing in front of the table, blocking the light so I couldn't tell that it was coming from a candle or an old lamp. The man is busy putting things away or way from his way. But instantly I knew that this man, this person was me in the future or in an alternative universe achieving the biggest goal. The goal that I too want to achieve: he became a great writer, a writer who had work and did nothing just work and create and all the papers and books were his creation.

At this point I started to envy the man. I was at a point of my life where I couldn't create, I couldn't write, I still can't toady! An unbreakable writers block is before me and I'm suffering and my heart clenches and I can't breath as I watch him from the closet. Wanting to come out but it is not my option.

When I think this, he stops whatever important thing he was doing and slowly turns, looking at the closet. He has my face, and he is me. Looking at me. He noticed, he knew. Then steps before the furniture with a firm step and looks inside the hole. It looked like the all seeing eye, the symbol of a god, looking right into my eye. What did he see while he looked inside? Did he see a god staring out of the closet, some hope from his past self? Or did I see a god in my image? Disturbing but I can't look away. I'm not that strong to disobey him.

But this me has blue eyes, and that struck's me. I have green eyes.

As we stair into each other's eyes the room from the outside starts to spin and starts to get dizzy. I get dizzy and the world over there blurry. When the spinning comes to a stop there's a white light coming inside. Cold and uncaring, is what the feeling that washes over me and I open the door.

Outside another room with almost glowing, shining walls and uncanny cleanness. The room is small, again, and has three doorways, with the door frame without the actual door, they lead into three different corridors and they are dark. One can not see anything.

I am small. The wardrobe compered to the room and the doors is small of course me in with it. The room however is full with a crowed of monsters made out of tar, oil and every nasty black liquid that exists on earth. They have sharp teeth and eyes glowing bright white like the wall of the room, they belong here and don't belong here and the black clothing that I were resembles their black slickly-slimy bodies. They find this resemblance funny and laughable. The room is filled with mocking and bad laughter as I open the door and peek out. They mock me because I could never be like them and I won't even reach the greatness that they represent like they are authority figures above me. That's the air they radiate, and the smell of a swamp. They tar is everywhere on the floor.

Here is another choice: step out or stay. I jump out and as I land right in the middle of the mocking circle and as my bear feet reaches the ground I feel the cold, white floor. I missed the tar, thankfully. But the moment I land I start to grow and expand, the room grows with me, the doorways too and I'm so surprised I can't even talk. I look down, always look down but now I am the one who's filling up the room, the ceiling reaching the top of my head and I feel superior. I made it. The laughter dies out and the now small creatures, monsters stare up at me. I see their little eyes sparkle as the blink, but their mouths now are closed and there's nothing but awkward silence.

Then I woke up.