I had a very disturbing dream last night.
It took place on some street in Armenia. I had a house and just purchased a second house a couple of doors down from my existing house on that street.
I was having some work done on the house and my contractor from Martuni and some laborers that are also from Martuni were doing some cement work.
My contractor had agreed to purchase a cement mixer for $600 from some Turk and had taken possession of it without asking me if it was okay to spend that much and was trying to convince me that it was a great deal since I was angry at him for spending my money without asking and didn�t think it was worth it especially since it was from a Turk.
As they were working in the back yard of my new house with the new cement mixer, some Turk neighbors came over and asked my contractor if we could mix up some cement for them and my contractor agreed.
They gave us some unmixed cement in a bucket and my contractor told me to take it back to the guys working on the mixer to mix it up.
I took it back and before putting it in the mixer, I noticed how creamy it was and had to taste it. It was so sweat and smooth and I thought to myself that I just ingested cement and once it gets in my stomach, it will turn hard and clog my system. How stupid of me. I wanted more since it tasted so good and I was hungry, but didn�t because I also knew that it was not good for me. My workers said that we can learn from the Turks how to make good cement and it�s good they gave it to us to mix.
While the workers were mixing up the cement, I went back out front and it looked like the Turks were waiting for me. In front of my wall they had dug a grave where I guess we were going to be using their cement and I understood that it was for their son who had died.
Then I see a friend standing out front talking to the Turks. Next thing I see some guy of about my friend�s age (45) walking by. He looked lost, blind and maybe even on drugs.
My friend knew this guy and called to him. His name was Marat or Mourat. He didn�t answer to my friend and my friend asked him what was wrong and followed him, trying to see what was wrong with his friend.
They crossed the street and walked up an embankment. When they got to the top of the embankment, that Marat guy looked my friend in the eyes and it was clear that this Marat guy was just faking his condition and pushed my friend off the edge of the embankment so he would fall and maybe hit his head.
When Marat pushed, my friend jumped at the same time and landing on his feet. I can still see his hiking boots landing firmly on the ground.
My friend look at Marat in anger and said �is that the game you want to play!!?� Marat jumped down the same way my friend did and grabbed my friend by the hands. Oh and with my friend was a woman. Maybe his ex-wife, but I can�t really remember, but the whole time she was standing by him.
So this Marat guy is holding my friend and I immediately started to run towards my old house to get my gun. I was running as fast and hard as I could. I could also hear the Turks telling Marat to hold him for them and I could see one of them rushing up to my friend. I hear a single shot from a larger caliber pistol and my friend dropped to the ground.
I could still feel myself running really fast and extra hard for my gun so I could shoot at these Turks in hopes to save my friend, the whole time thinking that how could we be so stupid to let our guard down with the Turks. If I had only had my gun with me, I would have opened fire on that Marat guy the minute he pushed my friend and they would have all fled.
I felt so stupid that I was so na�ve to believe that I could trust the Turks and we can�t trust them and need to always have some weapon with us just in case. I was also thinking that maybe they had recognized my friend from the war and they wanted to kill him for that.
To say the least, I woke up and was not at all happy.
I�m not sure what this dream meant, but will say that it could have come on since a few people have asked me about where my friend is.
Oh, one other thing I�ve noticed is that I�ve been having more dreams of this kind with shooting and guns and even seeing people I shoot die. In America, every now and then I would have dreams of being attacked and for some reason my gun would always malfunction and not fire.
Any ideas what all this means?
If anyone is wondering what all this has to do with life in Armenia, at very least, the dream took place in Armenia and the subject was defiantly Armenian.
It took place on some street in Armenia. I had a house and just purchased a second house a couple of doors down from my existing house on that street.
I was having some work done on the house and my contractor from Martuni and some laborers that are also from Martuni were doing some cement work.
My contractor had agreed to purchase a cement mixer for $600 from some Turk and had taken possession of it without asking me if it was okay to spend that much and was trying to convince me that it was a great deal since I was angry at him for spending my money without asking and didn�t think it was worth it especially since it was from a Turk.
As they were working in the back yard of my new house with the new cement mixer, some Turk neighbors came over and asked my contractor if we could mix up some cement for them and my contractor agreed.
They gave us some unmixed cement in a bucket and my contractor told me to take it back to the guys working on the mixer to mix it up.
I took it back and before putting it in the mixer, I noticed how creamy it was and had to taste it. It was so sweat and smooth and I thought to myself that I just ingested cement and once it gets in my stomach, it will turn hard and clog my system. How stupid of me. I wanted more since it tasted so good and I was hungry, but didn�t because I also knew that it was not good for me. My workers said that we can learn from the Turks how to make good cement and it�s good they gave it to us to mix.
While the workers were mixing up the cement, I went back out front and it looked like the Turks were waiting for me. In front of my wall they had dug a grave where I guess we were going to be using their cement and I understood that it was for their son who had died.
Then I see a friend standing out front talking to the Turks. Next thing I see some guy of about my friend�s age (45) walking by. He looked lost, blind and maybe even on drugs.
My friend knew this guy and called to him. His name was Marat or Mourat. He didn�t answer to my friend and my friend asked him what was wrong and followed him, trying to see what was wrong with his friend.
They crossed the street and walked up an embankment. When they got to the top of the embankment, that Marat guy looked my friend in the eyes and it was clear that this Marat guy was just faking his condition and pushed my friend off the edge of the embankment so he would fall and maybe hit his head.
When Marat pushed, my friend jumped at the same time and landing on his feet. I can still see his hiking boots landing firmly on the ground.
My friend look at Marat in anger and said �is that the game you want to play!!?� Marat jumped down the same way my friend did and grabbed my friend by the hands. Oh and with my friend was a woman. Maybe his ex-wife, but I can�t really remember, but the whole time she was standing by him.
So this Marat guy is holding my friend and I immediately started to run towards my old house to get my gun. I was running as fast and hard as I could. I could also hear the Turks telling Marat to hold him for them and I could see one of them rushing up to my friend. I hear a single shot from a larger caliber pistol and my friend dropped to the ground.
I could still feel myself running really fast and extra hard for my gun so I could shoot at these Turks in hopes to save my friend, the whole time thinking that how could we be so stupid to let our guard down with the Turks. If I had only had my gun with me, I would have opened fire on that Marat guy the minute he pushed my friend and they would have all fled.
I felt so stupid that I was so na�ve to believe that I could trust the Turks and we can�t trust them and need to always have some weapon with us just in case. I was also thinking that maybe they had recognized my friend from the war and they wanted to kill him for that.
To say the least, I woke up and was not at all happy.
I�m not sure what this dream meant, but will say that it could have come on since a few people have asked me about where my friend is.
Oh, one other thing I�ve noticed is that I�ve been having more dreams of this kind with shooting and guns and even seeing people I shoot die. In America, every now and then I would have dreams of being attacked and for some reason my gun would always malfunction and not fire.
Any ideas what all this means?
If anyone is wondering what all this has to do with life in Armenia, at very least, the dream took place in Armenia and the subject was defiantly Armenian.
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