Wednesday, March 21, 2012

bleeding woman

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was standing out on some kind of promenade before a wide river. It was a bright and sunny day. The pavement of the promenade was some kind of pale stone or concrete that reflected the sun pretty brightly. A tall chain link fence bounded the promenade and blocked off the river, which glared in the sunlight.

On the other side of the walkway from the river was a wide, lawny field. I stood by the fence. A couple people stood with me. Some other people stood on the field. All the people around me seemed to be old, and they all seemed to be dressed in nice business suits or nice lounge wear and leisure jackets.

A young woman sat on the ground. She may have been my sister, or she may have been like my sister. She was wrapped up in blankets. She seemed to be suffering from some kind of illness. I knew she was sick. But nobody else seemed to think she was, or even to regard her.

But now the young woman began bleeding. At first she was bleeding a little bit -- from somewhere. But then it was like something had jabbed into her ribs, or like she had jabbed something into her own ribs, on her right side. I could see that the stab had been made through some kind of beige colored Ace bandage. The young woman began bleeding a lot.

For a moment I was looking at some weird kind of processed food. It was like a small, plastic canister of soup. The canister was shaped like a baby food jar. But it was bigger, and colored a solid blue, almost like a jar for powdered paint.

Inside the jar were what looked like cubes of bouillon. I knew that when water was added to these cubes, they would dissolve into broth. But there were also little sheets or flakes of some kind of white material. At first I thought these were ingredients for the soup, like slices of chicken. But then I realized these were also items that dissolved into broth.

It seemed like this whole soup was just broth. I'd wanted to eat the soup at first. But now that I realized it was all just broth, I no longer wanted it. It seemed too salty for me.

I may have seen the bleeding woman one more time.