I’m not much of a dreams kind of guy. I have them, but I rarely remember them and put little to no effort into documenting them. There have been a few recurring elements to my dreams over my lifetime though, and those stick with me pretty well. I apply no particular meaning to them, but the imagery is something I can’t shake.

One such recurring element is an idol or statuette. Ever since I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I would occassionally (once or twice a year) have an otherwise completely mundane dream interrupted. Someone, not always me, would notice a small statue reminiscent of a man built out of a substance I can only describe as greasy charcoal. It’s a dark, beckoning thing, and it would inevitably be broken. Smashed, thrown, dropped, whatever — it would end up broken by someone, usually intentionally. After it breaks, the statue would shatter into small cubes made of the same substance, floating in the air in ring formation. Touching either the statue or cubes would leave dark, black stains on your skin. Avoiding contact with these cubes, for some reason, was usually a matter of extreme importance. It would drive us into a panic at times. I remember one night, in this dream, I grabbed my sister away from these stones, looked her in the eyes and said very clearly, “Don’t touch them. Don’t ever touch them.”

Afterwards, my perception of human faces in my dreams ceases to function properly. Nobody looks like they should. Faces lose features, gain new ones, or completely lose all human proportions. I don’t mean that people become animals, I mean someone’s face pinches in half. I mean their forehead juts out a foot from their face. I mean their teeth become spikes of bone that pierce through their skulls.

I imagine this whole thing is my mind attempting to process what amounts to garbage data in the part of my brain that comprehends human faces and expression, so I attach no significant weight to it at all, but it does interest me. The mind creates all sorts of strange symbols to process loose thoughts and data while you dream, but these long-term, recurring symbols are so much more fascinating to me. What does the charcoal man signify to my unconscious mind? Is it a warning, that I am about to be subjected to something the conscious mind hates? Or is it completely meaningless? It’s certainly no omen or sign from beyond, I know that much.

It is true though that there are few things the human mind hates more than distorted human faces. It isn’t anger, it isn’t fear, it’s a base biological reaction to a thing that should not be. These faces constructed of garbage data or misfiring nerves, the mind knows they shouldn’t exist. It knows that a real human being should not have gaping holes where their eyes belong. It knows where your nose should and should not be. When things arent right, the mind rejects it. Somehow, for some reason, I’m given warning when it’s about to happen in the form of a greasy statuette of coal.

Even more fascinating to me is that these dreams have become progressively more lucid. Like I said, I put no effort into remembering, documenting, or controlling my dreams at all. But when I see the charcoal man, something changes. I can look away. I can stop myself (but not others) from breaking it. These dreams didn’t used to be that way, but my ability to manipulate them has grown with each time Ive seen that statue. Again, I see no deeper meaning in this, it’s just a game the mind plays.

I don’t consider this a nightmare. I don’t fear it, it doesn’t prevent me from sleeping, it offers no ill effects. It just sticks with me the same way it stains the skin.