In this dream there were these little pixie women who were maybe 5 inches tall. They were very smart and could do magic. There were also these Shrek-like ogre men, although they were only about 2 feet tall. The ogres were all stupid, but were rumored to have great magical power. The pixies worked together with the ogres to collect food; the ogres would lift the pixies over their heads so they could pick grain. This was all very unfair because the pixies hardly did any work, but the ogres were too stupid to know better.

In this dream I was an ogre. There were three pixies that I took harvesting every day. I fell in love with them because they were very beautiful and smart. One day I picked a small wildflower for them, and held it out to them. As I was standing there, the flower slowly started turning into a beautiful white rose. One of the pixies slowly turned into a gorgeous princess with a white dress, while the other two shrunk away into nothing. At the same time, I began turning into a handsome prince.

When all the changes were complete, the beautiful princess took the rose from me and went to smell it. As she did so, the rose began eating away at her face as if it was burning and she was made of wax. She screamed as she was horribly disfigured. Then I woke up.

I swear I am not making any of this up. I am utterly freaked out. It's as if someone made a fairy-tale parable of my life right now, and made me dream it.

I wasn’t going to write a dreamlog but this dream has reoccurred several times now. Just in the last week or so. The dream details vary slightly but generally follow the same storyline. The memories of the dream follow me throughout the day.


I currently sleep on my bedroom floor, in a corner. The bed is not good on my back among other issues with that darn bed. It is summer time here and spiders are breeding. No matter how much we clean they keep coming back. Most commonly the ones with long legs.

The Dream basics:

I am laying in my corner, the laptop on it’s small table next to me on the floor. I suddenly realize there is yet another spider crawling on my leg. I jump up and that knocks it off my sweatpants and onto the floor. I grab a Kleenex from the box and kill it, tossing the spider’s remains and the tissue into the small wastebasket. I get comfortable and place the computer table across my lap, and open e2.

Suddenly I see something moving in the opposite corner. I realize it is a huge spider. This spider is the size of a rabbit. Big, black, scary with bright red eyes. I’m terrified. Frozen. Not sure what to do. When the paralysis suddenly stops I’m running out the bedroom door, down the hall, across the living room and out onto the porch before I realize I am even moving.

Oddly, my mother is there, as are my siblings. My grandma is there too. Mom and grandma are angry at me for running away. “Scaredy cat.” “Wimp.” I realize I’m shaking terribly. My mother spends several minutes berating me for my irrational fear. She then brings out the large black thing.

It has turned into a large bird, possibly a condor or vulture, perhaps just a hawk. My mother is holding it by its wing, it looks drugged. She takes it over to my car and slides a wing in and the window begins to roll up, closing on the wing until the wing is almost severed off. “Just another one, like all the others you kill.”

Suddenly it’s a spider again, on the ground, moving toward me. I take off running. I run for what seems like forever. I never seem to get anywhere.

Now my sister is laughing. “Mom set it up to trick you.” And shows me a stuffed toy, not even a spider. “It was just to get your reaction and show you how stupid you are.” The family tease me.

That wasn’t what was in my room.

After I wake I feel depressed, confused, anxious, and stupid. I am not terribly afraid of arachnids. I do not like them. I am sick of killing them, but feel I need to in order to slow down the breeding they are doing in my home.

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