Eventually (after what seemed like ages) we got to the top of the mountain, and there was a house there, and I ran up to it -- I remember feeling some vague worry at this point about whether I should be waiting for the rest of my family, but I convinced myself that they were following on okay. The house was all wood inside: wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden pillars. We wandered through it and came to a room with a wooden balcony around a gigantic pit, and there was some kind of pillar in the middle of the pit, and somebody said that this was where the god lived. For a moment there was a huge man in front of us, standing the full height of this pit; then he was gone, and there was just a disembodied head in the middle of the floor, and somehow I knew that this was the god as well in a different form. The head was bald with piercings all over it, and chains joining up the piercings; suddenly it started running around the floor [don't ask me how a disembodied head can run, but it did] and gibbering, and then it started drawing all the chains from its piercings into its mouth, as if it was eating them, and this drew them closer and closer around it until the chains were wound tightly around the head's neck, or where its neck would be; then it shouted something, and disappeared into the floor.
I turned to my mum and said "I don't feel we should clap a god, but..." because I felt I ought to applaud the performance but I wasn't sure if it was right. Then I said the same thing again to somebody else, because my mum didn't seem to appreciate the sentiment.
The rest of the dream is more hazy, it involved a lock-in at some kind of goth pub/club in a cabin at the top of the mountain, and lots of people I sort of vaguely knew were there, and I can see images from it but I don't think I can put them into words. There was a lot of black and green, and music, and fighting. It didn't make much sense.
[1] I've noticed that in dreams, and in certain other states of altered consciousness, it's not unusual for me to experience the ability to say/think more than one thing at once in a structured way, with some sort of physical/spatial element to the utterances/thoughts; e.g. I find that I can see the different narrative threads laid out concretely in front of me like forking paths, or that I can feel the different thoughts coexisting in my mind in the same way that I can feel which hand is on top of the other. It's awesome, whole new ways of representing information structures and narratives... the problem is they just don't translate very well to full 'straight' consciousness. No matter how hard I try, I can't keep my foot in the doors of perception; they clang shut like prison doors. ("...human voices wake us, and we drown.")
