When You Know Nothing About War and Wealth and Trust (and people)

Date: 6/15/2017

By Fitful

I was a rich young man, newpy wealthy due to an unexpected inheritance and also newly married. The city I lived in, was grey and seemingly ravished by the state of urban poverty. Only buildings own by the rich retained their glory, and most of it was on the inside. The effect was a city which looked burnt, crispy and grey and like some twisted version of an alternate Victorian London. I was very very involved in the church across the street from my house. My apartment was several stories up and I could look out and see the parallel floor of their church. The nuns would come out and put prayers on the candles which had been written on scraps of paper, rolled up and tied with twine. They didn't seem to mind the height. There was a woman, who lived in the church. And aunt, an old friend of the family, a woman I treasured, trusted. When i had recieved my inheritance I gave her a million dollars. I wanted to make sure she'd be comfortable. One of the more memorable scenes in this dream is my utter betrayal and confronting her with trying to steal from me. She had used underhanded political means to do so, I had found out and confronted her. She was remorseless, seeming to feel entitled to whatever money I had. As if I had billions in the bank. I had recently discovered, something I didn't know when I first recieved my inheritance, that I didn't have that much money in the bank. I literally had just over half a million now and while it was quite a lot being rich and politics, plus the war was expensive. I knew I could make more on my reputation alone but there was a part of me slightly worried about money. If I had known I didn't have a lot before I gave it away I would have waited, or given her less the first time, or spent effort to build up the wealth before I became so generously destitute. And here was a woman I trusted who just used me, and further she felt slighted I didn't give her more. I was married, to a sweet young wife. We plotted together, part of some secret war which was the sole concern of the city. I trusted her too. She was my everything. One day we were sucked into the sewer system, the water dragged us up and down and through pipes and shoots and places. It was hard not to become separated. She was secretly trying to steer us away from somewhere. But we actually ended up exactly where she didn't want to be. There was a woman in a cell. She muttered a moan, whined begged barked. She was mad, and sounded evil in her madness, gone completely insane. She went on and and on about love having driven her insane. She had loved someone and it drove her mad. I felt again, utterly Betrayed. My wife pleaded with me, I was really the forgiving sort. I forgave everyone, but suddenly I was faced with two people I trusted doing something unforgivable. The mad woman, I had been told my wife didn't do this sort of thing. We devorced. I left her. She was ejected from my circle which plotted the war. I'm not really sure why it was so upsetting, perhaps the slavery aspect, but it hurt more that I had lost what I had with her. I put more effort into the war and my close male confidants who fought it with me. I ignored my wife who walked as if she ached, and peered at us while waiting for the bus out of the city. I was meeting my compatriots, slyly discussing war plots, and she was leaving. I studiously ignore her. A few odd following snippets in the dream which make no sense, but don't belong in a different dream. Two children, I sat very close in the perspective of one. We played in the church, which was also a rich home. We played and the other child was a fraud to go in the closet. There were shadows in there, shadows which were alive and could look like real people. I made him go in, watched the shadows and i saw them almost take form, I was a bit fearful but I also was disdainful. Shadows were silly. ~ I was still myself the newly inherited man, but instead I was a woman. I slummed it a bit, I'd run into a gang early on in my youth and impressed them with something. They gave me a yellow shirt which meant I was in their gang. Dealing with the rich, politics, war I didn't often come back down to the lower city, the streets were unsafe filled with gangs and little else, but when I did I was always safe. I was accepted by them, and when I did come down we'd lounge together in a protected little room, just doing nothing, secure in the knowledge we couldn't be hurt, no one would dare because they feared us.