I woke up abruptly from my sleep. The dream was still fresh in my memory. So, I decided to write it down. I was at a buffet. But it wasn’t in some posh restaurant. It was in a van. Some donation drive. There were small makeshift tables. I remembered being very hungry. I grabbed a plate. Surprisingly, the plate came with food in it. The portions were unbelievably small. I remembered thinking how ridiculous it was. I obviously wanted more. So, I help myself to the table. Filling my plate with food and feeling damn enthusiastic about it. Then I find cloth on the next table. Covering the food. I don’t find it odd. It was stacks and stacks of silk. It looked darn expensive. I thought to myself why they would serve this. I honestly tried eating it. I even teared it. Then, I felt guilty i might be ruining it for somebody else.
Next, i dream of an old man having a heart attack. Another man in the crowd starting praying islamic verses. I prayed the only Shivan’s mantra i knew. The old man miraculously heals. He suddenly looks like a hindu priest. There was an altar near him. But somehow, i felt deception. Like he was faking it all along. He grabs saffron from a chinese urn. The saffron looks expired to me. He places it on my forehead. He demands 10 bucks for this act. Like, he was demonstrating all this for our good. I got irritated and left. No way was I giving a con man money.
After this, I see myself at a shoot. Apparently, there’s a character that constantly commits suicide. This time, someone says he really committed suicide. I run to the scene. I find him lying on the floor. He had blood on his hands. But then, he survives and fights with this other guy,
Common symbols in my dream were death. Seeing someone fake their death meant deception or more of self deception. Perhaps I was fooling myself about something in life. The food has an interesting interpretation to me. The plate already came with a serving. Perhaps, I am unhappy with what life gave me. Or i felt like i had an unfair start. So, I help myself to a buffet. I find silk cloth. But I am unsure what to do with it. It could mean I am unsure what to do when a good thing happens. I accidentally self sabotage myself. The man who suicides is a good thing actually. Death usually means ends of a cycle. And, for someone who is recovering like me. It means I am ending a few patterns in my life. For good this time. Suicide is a choice. So this time I am consciously ending things. Which is true. I made a few new decisions in my life. I am planning to stick to them.