Dream #6 10 Feb 2009

So it snowed a lot recently. I've enjoyed it immensely as it's allowed me to get up late and blame the snow, and also just plain old not get up at all. Many people seem angry about the whole scenario, but in a year's time, no one is going to give a shit, so I'm enjoying it.

I've had several dreams of late. Some are obvious, others are puzzling.

I parked up in Dunstable and walked to a pub. I stood at the bar and found my cousin Terry stood at my side to my right. I greeted him and was incredibly pleased to see him. He aknowledged my greetings, but overall seemed distant. I ordered myself a pint.
I then noticed my uncle Martin, Terry's father, whom I have not seen since I was a small child, was stood to my left. I greeted him with equal warmth, and continued to wait for my pint to arrive. I noticed he was now shorter than me, and his hair was going grey, but still cropped short in a Teddyboy fashion, which is probably accurate.
I felt something move in my left pocket, next to my phone. I looked down and Martin's hand was in my pocket, trying to take my phone. Rage overwhelmed me as I siezed his wrist with my fist and spat out the words "get your fucking hand out of my pocket"
Martin tried to shrug off my fury with a few laughs and some jokey comments, but this just made me worse. I have never been so seething with filthy rage in all my life. He began back-pedalling and explained at first that his hand had slipped into my pocked by mistake, but then admitting I had caught him red handed and offering a light apology, with a bit of a jovial shrug.
I hissed at him through my teeth to never approach me again, and I left the pub. I walked the streets of Dunstable in search of my car, and soon decided to give my uncle and cousin a second chance by returning to the pub.
I ordered a lager, unusual for me. I believe it was a Cobra. I went and stood in the corner where they now were and began talking to Terry. I don't recall a single thing that was said, but instead remained fully aware that my wallet was in my back pocket and that Martin was not so subtly manoevering himself behind me, in line with my back pocket. After a few minutes of this, I slammed my undrunk pint down announcing dissmisively that he should finish it as I was no longer thirsty.
I then left for certain and began searching for my car.
What followed was a group search for a car between myself and a small group of friends, but instead finding a colony of rare Japanese butterflies before hidind from mysterious assassins, also in search of our car.

Dream #5 Late 2006, Japan

Not last night but the night before I had a dream. Many of the details and story elements are gone now. But the main point was that my ball sack came off.
I was in Terry's back garden outside the garage. My sack came off, leaving just my balls still dangling.
I've always wondered what's inside, like, is it just water? Or blood surrounding the balls? Or nothing? A vacuum. Or air even... That would be a waste.

But it turns out there's a thick brown substance inside, much like Worcester Sauce... no, HP. Thick and congealed, like old HP. It was a mess. I was carrying my ball sack around like a cup full of this substance, which I found rather disgusting. I was rather worried, partly because my tackle had fallen apart, but partly because I had no idea what the brown stuff was, or whether it was meant to be there... or if it was important. So I just tried not to spill it. By this point my ball sack had taken on a plastic, moulded appearance, like part of a kit.

Dad was attempting to explain to me how to reassemble my cock, but I was getting confused. At some point I had to unscrew my actual cock to attach the ballsack from underneath, then screw it back on, but I did it the wrong way round and had to start again. I forgot to put some sort of washer in place. There was a sticky pale pink film coating the innards of my plastic device.

Brown Notebook, Page 1: Circa Oct 2006

Monkeys touching each other in a Zoo. They are still sad.

Dream #4: Circa Oct 2006

Watched Tin Tin
Didn't make sense
Asked Jemma
She was angry
So was Fran
I noticed their photos were on my camera
Included photos of Cherrie in Halloween costume...

Me and Heather went to visit somewhere in Japan and somehow ended up on a plane home.
At home, deserted. Phone has no texts, internet doesn't connect, computer has no files.
I suddenly begin to realise coming home was a mistake. I had only been away for a few weeks...

First dream I've regretted leaving Japan.

Dream 3 Circa Oct-Nov 2004 (Lincoln)

I was walking round our block on the water front. It was a warm, hazy night. Across the water I saw a bulb shaped light on the horizon. It was pure white with a fluorescent blue glow lining the edge. It was silent and still. I knew instinctively it was a bomb. I knew it didn't have the appearance of one, but its eery stillness somehow proved it to be more poisonous.

I returned to my flat, something like 2nd or 3rd floor of just another of hundreds of identical towers crammed together. I want to gather my belongings from my room. The rest of my ignorant flatmates remained unaware of the situation and only served as obstacles.

I entered my room to gather belongings. It was disastrously untidy. Floor could barely be seen. And then I realised how useless it all was, how utterly useless my room with all its belongings was. And they appeared a dirty brown. Dull. Lifeless. As if these belongings were not my own. I left them.

Outside the apartment and in the stairwells and hallways, people were now frantic. It was difficult to move for all the mayhem. I reached the bottom of the stairs and it was crammed with people so tight it was hard to breathe. The large, raised doorway and my exit was blocked by a man with an assault rifle. He wore a fluorescent jacket, marking his authority and visibility. He was "keeping the peace".

My father was in the hall. He said "We need to get out of here!" so we doubled back to look for a rear exit. We found a room behind and under the stairwell with a small entrance. It had been made through a hole in the wall.

A dark room with low ceilings and high floors and people crowded round a barred window with no glass. They seemed to want to escape through a gap in the bars and so were drawn to it, almost mesmorised.

We entered and could see it was now light outside. We looked down on the street below. People crowded in mess and cars. When we tried to escape through the gap in the bars, we found the iron was scolding hot and we could not escape without severe burns. The reason for this was unclear but attributed to 'the situation'.

We left the room to find there was a nearby back exit with an open door to the street. We dashed through to find another man in fluorescent jacket brandishing an assault rifle. Everyone had formed orderly queues on the pavement, against the side of the building.
"Keep behind the yellow lines" he was telling us. This is what scared me, really scared me. That I knew we had to escape, I knew this. I knew that by staying we would eventually die. But because this man was ordering us to stay still, remain orderly and because everyone else was... I did.

[This is where my log of this dream ends, but what follows is what I still remember of how the dream continued]

Dad took a chance and grabbed a rifle from a patrolman who let his guard down. I believe he shot him dead. We may have acquired a gun each. We were now renegades and the authorities were after us. We crawled to a dusty knoll of grass and peered over. A bus approached, which we planned to commandeer, but Dad was possibly shot before we tried.

I awoke.

Dream 2 Circa Sept-Nov 2004 (Lincoln)

On Wednesday I visited the Waterside Centre in order to go to the O2 Shop to top up my phone, seeing as I have to top up on the 17th of every month to maintain my free texts.
I decided upon leaving the O2 Shop I would walk the remaining length of the Waterside Centre as a shortcut home.
I was amazed to see a snake on my way. It was in a glass case and on display to the general public. I studied it and some others in separate cases. It was sort of hypnotic, the way it moved. It brought back instant thoughts of my recent dream in which I killed a snake.

I am fairly confident that this was the same snake. The only difference being that this snake wasn't vivid blue.

I felt compelled to make a donation to the animal shelter that was displaying the snake. I still felt guilty for killing the snake needlessly and this was my way of making amends. I also had a strange feeling that this was some sort of sign or part of a game.
As if the dream was my clue and this was my test. If I passed I would ascend to the next level. Or my actions would serve as some kind of key, unlocking a string of events.

I don't know if anything will happen next.

Dream 1 Circa 2006-07 (Japan)

Last night I had two dreams about freaky children.
The first one, I was in the living room when I was told I had to teach a kid and his brother, but beforehand I was warned that one of the boys had an extremely small face and that I had to be careful.

Sure enough, he had a tiny face. The front of his head was flat and his face was crammed into the centre of it. He seemed unaware of this peculiar quality, probably due to a mental deficiency.

I awoke at 5:30 for no reason and was kept awake by the idiot running water upstairs until 8:30. I could also hear he was watching TV. When I finally did fall asleep, my following dream was horrific. It was based on a TV show I watched recently, a crap comedy starring a kid as the main vehicle for humour.

In my dream she was bit by bit transformed into a hideous plate-form. Her face was all stretched out and red and all innards falling out. It was actually quite disturbing.

I attribute this dream to:

1. my hatred for child actors
2. my opinion that she was an ugly child to begin with, as her resulting appearance seems a gross caricature of her true face
3. the fact I have been watching Cronenberg's earlier films