Last night, I had a dream. I found myself in a desert called Cyberland. No, just kidding, although I think I *can* still perform that whole song because even though I thought I was Mimi in high school, I was clearly Maureen. Case in point, I did not die of overdose or consumption.
Anyway, last night I had a really gross dream. Here are some pictures to explain it, although they will require captions because they are very lazy pictures.
This is my stomach, slightly lower and to the left of my belly button. Please note the branch growing out of it. It was a lot bigger in my dream – I had limited paper space because I started too far up.
In the dream, I snapped the branch off and went to bed, thinking I was fine.
I googled trees growing from stomach dreams and the first result was this site, which I poorly and deliberately obtusely summarize as “stomach = family or prison”. This site kindly explained that “broken branches = stress or a problem”.
In the dream, I woke up and realized there were tons and tons of roots left in my stomach and I had to pull them out, in huge, goopy, stringy, wet piles. This site (google search “rip roots out of stomach dream”) suggests that pulling up roots might mean letting go and moving on.
If that’s not gross enough, after I got the roots out, I noticed a giant, embedded bug in the same spot. I grabbed it, and slightly more than half of it ripped off all disgustingly in my hand, leaving part of it still stuck in place.
This was also really gross. This site, which is awesome because it has an article about Parasite Extraction in Dreams on it, interprets the bug as stress and suggests a positive reaction if the parasite is removed.
Now, you might say that this dream is the result of my brain sorting through the totally revolting roundworm infestation episode of Grey’s Anatomy combined with a bad local tick season, plus a bit of stress from slightly over-booking the spring with web development work.
I choose to believe it means that I am stressing about my lack of an actual prison, in which to imprison insurgents who question my rule. Further, I will rise above this and move on, albeit reluctantly and not without some emotional discomfort, because I am a bigger person, and also because a prison would not actually fit in my stomach and it’s probably a solid idea to make alternate plans.
What do you dream about? Do you believe in dream interpretation? Do you have the plans to an airtight prison (not literally airtight, that would be disturbing and inefficient when it comes to guard turnover) and an architect with the savvy to build it? Are you also glad that there aren’t smells in dreams? Embedded bug guts and root gloop. Ew.