Trigger warning: Description of sexual violence
So I was picked up in a truck that was falling apart. It was really grimy and dirty, with loose floor boards everywhere. In dreams you feel it sometimes, without any obvious dialogues or actions. The driver was a predator, one who looked like a dirty beggar living in the streets, but better than a homeless person. Basically, the hero from Pushpa. Then suddenly I found myself in a rickshaw, driven by a dark black violent right winger, with dreadlocks, black sunglasses, a ginormous beard, a well oiled mustache, and a wide toothy smile, with saffron flags on both sides of the rickshaw. I asked him how I got transported here, and he told me that he had picked me up. I said it was just like a dream.
That's the second time in recent memory that I have dreamed of consciousness dawning on me in a sudden, unfamiliar environment, where I have no memory of what led me to that place. Here though, the consciousness was a switch, with a perceived memory gap in the interval, but really there was not one.
He dropped me off to a meeting with a lady. Somehow, we both understood the other had been abused without even communicating it. She told me that only a few people understand. I asked her what happened, and she said it was from when she was very young, she was the daughter of diplomats and had to travel around, and I forget why but she abused the embassy stamps. Her abuser got her to share photos of her dolls in various photos.
Later, I think it was similar to the activities of the Kilgrave, which really brings to the surface the psychological hold and manipulation of predators. Unfortunately, I am stuck with only the first seasons of Jessica Jones, Luke Cage and Iron Fist, although I got through the Defenders and Daredevil before the series were pulled from Netflix. Waiting for them to come back on Hotstar+Disney, along with Kenobi.
This has some crazy subtext that I need to read or understand at some point. Anyway, now I am going to put in a few hours at least into Dawn of Ragnarök.
TC, bye.
No comments:
Post a Comment