my dream last night was odd - i wasn’t actually in it. it was as if i was watching everything from an out-of-body experience, which is quite unusual for my dreams. (i don’t know how common that is in the world, but... *shrugs*)
it started in a generic high school gym. a bunch of kids got into a “brawl” which was like a massive free-for-all fistfight, except fun, lighthearted, and no one was really going to get hurt. people flooded in from all throughout the school to come take part. the overwhelming feeling was again, fun, not fight, even though it WAS a massive fistfight. my out-of-body self zeroes in on one specific person, a completely average girl, slightly on the plump side. There was literally nothing remarkable about this girl (which at the time was remarkable in itself). But, my out-of-body-observer dream self suddenly had access to her thoughts. she was working her way to the exit door, against large amounts of people flooding in. even though she wanted to take part in the brawl, she would only do so by slapping a butt, and she was looking for “the perfect butt”. by the time she’s exiting the room she sees a girl (who her brain says is a cheerleader) who i would describe as “hot, for a blonde”. She desperately wants to smack that butt, but she’s torn, because it would be “too much like a movie” what the hell that means.
she winds up not doing it, getting more and more sad about it as she walks over to the auditorium. as she travels there she slowly morphs into my ex. There’s a talent show being held in the auditorium, so she goes backstage to prepare. she strips naked, starts fingering herself, and explains to her (IRL) fiance that she’s going to be showing off bdsm with the stuff i bought her. she then realizes i didn’t buy her any bsdm stuff for the show, so she can’t go on, she she just sits there, curled up naked and horny, crying. her fiance then says he’ll go on in her place, and strips down to his underwear. now, he’s a big guy IRL but he was downright disgusting in the dream - rolls and rolls of fat, body hair growing out of weird places, and visible cartoony stench wafts. he walks onstage with the cardboard box of the stuff my ex DID bring (that she could have used to do her show anyways, my subconscious points out) under his left arm, a angry/depressed look in his eyes. he rummages in the box with his right hand, pulls out an arrow (a real arrow, like you’d see used for medieval archery) raises it over his head, and stabs it through his right manboob, , the arrowhead exiting through his nipple, and there’s a pretty decent amount of blood. the scene zooms in on his eyes, and they get really, really angry (i realize, at ME) and start glowing red.
i wake up.
what.
the.
fuck.
(i also want to point out i don't know this man but have never held any ill will towards him, i haven't really talked to my ex in quite some time - nothing meaningful in a long time, and i have absolutely zero feelings for her anymore)