I have finally topped my killing Hitler dream. Last night, I dreamt that I was a middle-aged Jewish man running through the streets of some German city at night time, circa 1940, trying to get way from the Gestapo. I kid you not.
The dream was in the first person, I was this Jewish guy running for his life as he scrambled around half of this city dressed only in a white night shirt, brown dressing gown and backless brown slippers. I had dark brown hair, balding on top, and a bushy beard. How did I know that I was Jewish? It was just an overwhelming feeling that I got, along with the pounding heart when I finally woke up.
And I was running for my life. Running from local Gestapo enforcers.
Now, it’s been a while since I’ve read or watched anything related to World War II or the Holocaust. No media texts I have consumed for many months have been related to these subject areas.
So why the hell was I dreaming about being a middle aged Jewish guy, fleeing the Gestapo in the middle of the night? The crazy part was how the dream/nightmare ended.
Finally, after running along dozens upon dozens of cobbled streets, trampling through numerous gardens, and crashing through several houses, I ended up at an orphanage. I tried desperately to hide in the orphanage, but when the Gestapo showed up outside, the woman who ran the place went up to the glass doors that fronted the building and nodded to the secret police that I was there. I then fled the orphanage out a back door, through a huge garden, leaped over a fence and landed on some railway tracks.
Then I woke up.
Due to my atheistic and scientific leanings I am disinclined to believe that this was some kind of past life memory surfacing. But it was bloody weird regardless of what caused it.
Have not woken up with my heart pounding like that for quite some time. Not a pleasant experience. And now that I think about it, I think the book pictured above would only be able to deal with part of the dream, a very small part.