Tim (littlebluedog) wrote,
Tim
littlebluedog

john the baptist as a blues man

In last night's dream, I was Jesus' buddy.

Not in the spiritual sense, but actually his friend, and we were hanging out in contemporary times in some city that had a European feel to it. I remember he was a black guy, wore a mod leather biker jacket and had short hair. The whole setting reminded me a little uncomfortably of a Fine Young Cannibals video.

My dream-self knew that he was Jesus, as in the bona fide Son of God, but he wasn't overtly holy or preachy; he was just a really cool guy. I also knew that I was John the Baptist.

At one point he was giving an impromptu lecture in a large, cobblestoned courtyard somewhere, it could have been St. Mark's Square in Venice, with such charisma that a couple hundred people had stopped to listen. I was in the crowd, maybe 20 feet away from him. My dream-self had no idea what he was talking about.

His speech turned dramatic, and then a little menacing, but folks were still captivated. To demonstrate some point about metaphysics or God or something, he pointed out a member of the audience, who was pushed by the crowd up to where he was standing. Inexplicably, it was Harry Potter, but if anyone else noticed this, no one said anything.

Jesus grabbed Harry and pulled out a large machete, which he raised up in the air. It was evident that he meant to sacrifice Harry, which reminded my dream-self of the story of Abraham's sacrifice; as such, I knew he wouldn't go through with it, because someone would stop him at the last minute.

I resisted the urge to call out because I didn't want to appear to be drawing attention to myself, but I did anyway, because no one else did. All eyes turned to me, and Jesus kind of smirked, as if this was his plan, and motioned for me to come up. I did, and he released Harry, but turned to the crowd and shouted something while gesturing to me, as if proving a point. He then faced me, smiling, placed his hand on my forehead, and then I realized that he had made me blind. Apparently the crowd could somehow see this, and cheered.

For whatever reason, my dream-self didn't seem surprised by this turn of events, or upset at him.

Later, I noticed that the "blindness" was a lot like walking around with a blanket on my head: I could make out shapes and even colors, but only if I really paid attention. When it was dark, I discovered that if I concentrated, I could actually see everything around me just fine, but in negative. At some point, while hanging out with Jesus at someone's apartment, I noticed that his negative-image was black, and mine was white, meaning that I was now black, and Jesus was now white; somehow we had reversed skin colors. Some other friends were with us, and perhaps even commented or joked about it, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary.

I shrugged and picked up a guitar and started playing a song I knew. Jesus brought over another bottle of beer.
Tags: dreams
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  • 29 comments

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