It's been a while since I've had a particularly symbolically interesting dream. I just had a pretty good one recently. All these dreams are actually accompanied with really strong emotions. When I write them down, they always sound artificial and lame. I'll have to find a way to remedy that.
So I'm a turtle. I'm a sexy confident turtle. Then I fall asleep and wake up to find I have no shell. I'm starting to get a little freaked out because there are buzzards circling overhead, ready to eat me and I have no shell! I am very scared and alone. Imagine the type of hopeless fear of being a shell-less turtle with no way to excape. I mean, I'm a turtle. Not like I can run away. That's why I had developed a shell in the first place.
All of a sudden i see my shell and head toward it. Then a line of seagulls fly down and start talking to me. They stand in front of my shell. "Hey guys. I've just noticed I don't have my shell, and I really need it. Could you please move?" The seagulls respond, "You never HAD a shell, what are you talking about?" By now I'm in a bit of a panic because I'm defenseless and the buzzards are getting ready to eat me. It's actualy getting really serious. "No IDIOTS! I've got to have my shell! It's mine and I need it!" "You didn't seem to need your shell, a few seconds ago when you were alseep." "That's because I was asleep and didn't notice that I was MISSING MY SHELL! I never really noticed the buzzards when I had a shell, but now I don't have my shell and I need it. Please move." The buzzards are circling lower. I'm completely defensless and at the whim of the stupid seaguls. I start crying. "It's MY SHELL. I've got to have it. I've just got to." "You never had a shell. If you weren't so prideful you would just let us protect you." "No. I'm a turtle! I have my own shell and I've always had it. You can't do this to me!" The buzzards are growing in numbers. I'm crying hysterically now and pounding the sand. My brain is in a panic mode, trying to figure out how to make sense of this bizzarely unjust situation. Finally I just give up, and in complete angry, sick hopelessness, roll over on a sandbank and get ready to die. Now remember, this turtle is me, and is full of the entire broad range of human emotions. Imagine the feelings you have as you approach a helpless death, in eyesight of your shell. It's horrifying. The seagulls are laughing and jeering and getting downright self-righteous at how I won't just ask them for help. I take one more look at my shell and then get violently eatten.
I think I am suffering from shell-lessness.