I have been having a series of vivid dreams. I have tried to keep a dream journal in the past, but to no avail. Jungian Psychology places a strong emphasis on dream analysis. Hopefully, this process will prove therapeutic and, of course, entertaining. Public feedback is also an important part of the process so please feel free to chime in with your thoughts. So, let’s lay the corpse on the table and start dissecting…
Last night I had a dream about a Whale-man. I often have dreams concerning whales. I distinctly remember one such dream several years ago wherein I was a whale floating through outer space. Groovy, right? Well, this dream was pretty “far out” too, but it carried with it a more sinister tone. I dreamt of an immense palace with a large, open ballroom. There were ornate balconies lining the walls in a saccharin Rococo style reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast. I was sitting alone on the marble and I was a child.
All of the sudden, the oak doors creaked open and the Whale-man entered the great room, his wet footsteps echoing all around me. He was dressed as a Count, but had the head of a sperm whale. I found this picture online, the tone and expression is all wrong but the general idea is correct. I remember his head being enormous, like the actual head of a whale, though his torso may only have been 7 feet tall. I think his skin was orange, too. It was definitely a bright color. He had a mouth like the picture, but I don’t remember him using it to speak. I believe he was telepathic. He was wise beyond his whale-years, I could tell you that. He was monstrous and it frightened me, but I felt drawn to him and his presence was familiar. He came up to me and touched me with his hand on the small of my back, as if we were about to dance. But instead of dancing, we floated up into the air, levitated, if you will. I knew right then that he was MAGIC. I felt terribly insecure but he calmed me with a kiss, which I found erotic. I became embarrassed and paranoid that the Servant would find us. Servant may not be the right word. There was a man on the balcony looking for me (his job was to look after me), and he seemed to be like a nurse-maid or pseudo-parental figure… like Zazu from the Lion King ( are you counting the number of Disney references?).
The Whale-man took me straight out of the palace and across the dark ocean. At this point he morphed into a Seaplane. We flew close to the skin of the sea and I watched as other whales were following us. They popped in and out of the sea like wooden puppets. It was night. I was worried, but the Whale-man seem to say, “Don’t worry. I am taking you away. We are running away together. Trust me.”
After a long journey we made it to his Castle. He seemed to say: “Have a look around, my boy;” and so I did. It was really neat, his Castle that is. Very dark, lit by candelabra, Gothic. “Nice place, you got here, Whale-man,” I said. But he had transformed again. This time he was dressed back as the Count and was a VERY old man with a thick mustache.
But I couldn’t focus on this new manifestation; I was too transfixed on the knife he held behind his back with pale, thin hands. I could see it as he crept toward me because I was viewing things in the third person. He lunged forward and cut me, I don’t remember where, but it was deep. For some reason he couldn’t kill me, because I knew who he was now: he was Dracula. He seemed disappointed. So he swooped me up into his arms and returned me to the Palace.
I found my father in the Hall of Elders and told him I was raped by Dracula/Whale-Man. He said the same thing happened to him when he was my age and to his father before him. I thought it strange that Ole’ Drake had been lurking around my family lineage initiating every male child into some sort of divine molestation for all eternity. And with that thought, I woke up.