The Oracle

February 26th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening

I dreamed absolutely loads this night but these are the only ones I could remember. Charlie had me up until silly o’clock because he wasn’t feeling very well and I’d also had a few glasses of wine. These occurred between about 3am and 7ish.

Teletubby Wars (1)

Very-low level as a result of WBTB and mantra of, “I’m going to sleep now and then I’ll be dreaming.” Simple but seemingly effective.

Charlie and I are in Teletubby Land standing near the lake. Charlie is playing in a playhouse and the sun is shining it’s a lovely day. The Windmills come up and start calling, “Time for Teletubbies. Time for Teletubbies.” I go over to where Charlie is playing behind me and helping him out of the playhouse say, “Come on sweetie. Look! What’s coming?” and we look out over the lake trying to see what’s going to appear. Charlie holds my fingers as we walk over to the edge of the water.

A dirty little wooden boat drifts over to the shore. It has tiny little plastic shot glasses on board and the other children take theirs pretending to drink. Charlie takes his but he then bends down to scoop up some water from the lake. He drinks and, though I try to knock the cup from his lips, he almost immediately falls ill. He has a stomachache and nausea. Teletubby land is poisonous and now they want to stop me from spreading the truth.

Teletubby Attack (2)

We are under attack! I’m looking to see where the rest of my people have gone. I hide behind a car and cover Charlie. There is a countdown like a soundtrack, it’s standing at T minus 10, I realise, 9,8, that the 7, bombs 6, will be 5, targeting me 4,3, because of Teletubbyland, 2,1!

The plane overhead drops two bombs. I try to run but only make it to about 3ft away. I see the first missile impact the powder blue car through the roof. It’s dark green; nose down with US military written on the side of it in white, stencilled letters. The fins are painted yellow and red. There is no explosion but the car falls apart as though it were made of cardboard. A second impact has the same result. The car is surrounded by little pop up spinning tops. They are also yellow but begin to flash as they spin and I realise that they are mines. Shouting to my men I duck and cover. There is a massive explosion and I blackout.

I wake up as a man. As my eyes become accustomed to the light I see a woman in flowing golden robes. She is flying towards me in a roman style chariot. As she gets close enough I climb up onto the balcony railing and reach out a hand. I swing myself into the chariot and we land on the roof of an evangelical church. We’re going to be preachers. We’ll travel the world spreading the good word living for free on the good will of the people.

After the explosion I am searching frantically for Charlie. I find him and realise that he needs a nappy change so I head for the toilets. After changing him I decide that I need to do some recon and that Charlie will be safer in the toilet.

I leave the toilet to go and find someone to help and I eventually find one of my men. We go back to where I’d left Charlie but the floor is covered with used nappies and Charlie is gone. I start searching through the nappies as if I might find him buried underneath them. I find a screwed up piece of paper with several addresses written on it in pencil, they are a list of places where Charlie might be. Ffwrd through several locations until we find the right one. The kidnapers won’t let me have him back and aren’t even making any demands. They won’t let me have him back. I physically dissolve.

I was woken up by Charlie crying and had to sort him out again. I did WBTB again with the same mantra.

Teatime (3)

I was walking across a field of long grasses when I see the most beautiful bird I’ve ever seen. It’s huge with yellow and black plumage characteristic of a parrot or cockatiel but it’s much more impressive. As it flies towards me a boy starts throwing stones at it. “Oi! What do you think you’re doing you little s**t?” and then I think about the parents and what if they start trying to have a go at me for shouting at their kids, I don’t want to get in a fight. Then I thought to myself, it’s a dream though, so it doesn’t matter anyway.

I realise that I’m actually at Stonham Barns bird sanctuary so I walk across the car park and the boy starts throwing stones again. The bird flies just over my head and lands in a cherry tree in the car park where the birds handler is waiting. I’m expecting him to say something to the boy but he doesn’t.

On the other side of the car park there’s a tearooms and I go in for a cup of tea. It’s quite a big place. It has wickerwork furniture and old dark wooden bookshelves and units along the walls. I sit at a table in the middle reading a book. I feel sad. The man who owns the tearooms brings me my tea and in payment I give him a photograph of me with ‘Michelle’ written on the back of it.

When I go in the next day I want to sit at the same table but it’s very busy. I push through the crowd on the off chance that there is a free seat. Sarah, whom I recently met, was in the crowd. There weren’t any seats further in so I had to push my way back out again. I pass a very fat lady who has black hair and is wearing a dark blue top and hot pink leggings that are way too small for her. The area I can now see looks a bit like Pinky’s.

I see a whole other area to my left where I could sit that looks lovely. There’s a big window looking out onto a sunny yellow scene. The man from yesterday comes over to take my order. “Tea for you Michelle?” he asks. “That would be lovely,” I say but “I’m not Michelle.” He gives me my tea and I sit down. The lady who owns the tearoom with the man, comes and sits down with me. She takes the book I’m reading and goes and sits on the floor in front of the bureaux. She has a piece of paper and begins sketching the picture on the cover with her thumb. At first I think it’s magic but then I realise that she has a piece of graphite in her nail. “The moustache is incredible,” she says, “the way it seems to move.” I watch her for a few moments entranced and then I drink my tea.

March 11th 2008


Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

She’s Stable (1)

I have to go to hospital for some tests. I’m really nervous so Nigel agrees to come with me but we leave the kids with someone safe.

Nigel has to wait outside when I’m called and I go into the room on my own. The woman awaiting me is a large portly woman, dressed in dirty brown jodhpurs and a grubby polo shirt. She has dark blonde hair and reminds me of some spinster-cum-bulldyke woman I used to know. In the middle of the wall to my right there is a bed but the rest of the room is more akin to a workshop. There’s a bench down the left hand wall with another door the other side of it.

I realise that I haven’t brushed my hair so the woman gives me two brushes. They are horse-grooming brushes, one pushed into the other and as I pull them apart I can see that they are absolutely filthy. However, desperate as I am to brush my hair, I choose the cleaner of the two and the cleaner side of that and, finding a mirror on the back wall, begin to brush my hair.

The woman gives me a gown to put on and as I do so she explains to me what I will be required to do. As I put my clothes on a chair a horse enters from the second door at the end of the workbench. It is a real horse but its coat is more like that of a toy or a pantomime prop. I sit on the bed as it starts prancing around the room. It leaps the bed, trots around the end of it then leaps gracefully, landing with all four feet on the woman’s back, who has obligingly bent over for him. He then steps down, does one more circuit of the room and stands dumbly in front of the only exit door.

I wait for ages for the woman to begin the tests that I need but it seems that she is waiting as well. I sit on the bed, periodically looking at the clock until finally I look and it’s 6pm. I tell the woman that I really must go; my husband is waiting in the corridor and we have to collect the children. The woman tells me that I must go to the hospital for some tests. Getting annoyed, I tell her that that was what I was supposed to be there for. She simply tells the horse to go home, who blithely trots off into his stable on the other side of the other door and the woman sits down, staring blankly out at the room. She doesn’t move anymore and doesn’t respond.

I go looking for Nigel, who left the waiting area long ago and we go to collect Charlie. We have to be stealthy as we approach the house and upon closer inspection, find that Charlie is gone. I begin explaining to Nigel that I think he’s been taken but the scene cuts to the woman I was with earlier. She is on a bus that is going to a space shuttle.

The shuttle is full of other people all of whom think that they’re going to space to escape, I don’t know what they think they’re escaping from, they obviously think it is a good thing. Suddenly I know that she is taking them to their deaths, it feels like a Waco type deal. It is like I’ve had a vision and now I’m back with Nigel and I begin trying to tell him what’s going to happen to all those people but he insists that it’s only a dream. I start crying and shouting at him that I know it’s true. “It’s true I know it’s true”, I cry, “but I don’t know whether it was a dream or not now.”


I turn over a bar and so does one of my friends. Harmony is taller than us so she goes to a bar in a different shop front. She turns it and there’s a sickening, audible crack, as she smacks her head off the concrete. I go over to where she is laying taking my mobile out as I do so and start calling for an Ambulance. A man in a suit comes over to help and he calls for an Ambulance as well. He gets through first and starts giving the address and details of the accident. He says to me that they need my mobile number but the number I give him is wrong and I say, “Ah, oh no, that’s the wrong one it should be…” and I give him my correct mobile number as it is IRL.

I was woken up by the sound of one of our cats scratching at the back door but when I went to let them in there was nothing there. It could have been Gerald but I’m not sure. As I wrote the notes from this dream in my notebook I realised that not only had I given the man my real life mobile number but the incorrect one was my home number with the mobile code!

March 13th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

Strange Education (1)

I’m late for class and rush to the lesson along with two others. We burst into the room just as everyone else has settled down and they all turn to stare. I get the impression that it is the first class of a new term.

The room is only half occupied with low informal armchairs set in a circle. They are interspersed with low tables. The tables have jugs of water and glasses on them. Kerry-Anne King is opposite me as I walk in I smile but she seems non-plused to see me. As the lesson progresses my mobile keep ringing. I eventually turn it off.

Strange Lunch (2)

I think this follows (1) as it’s lunch time but it feels different.

I’m sitting round a table with lots of other girls. We’re at school but it’s drama school now. The meal that we’re eating is a lovely meal of Lamb cooked just pink, served with loads of vegetables and gravy.

To my left there is a baby wearing only a nappy, but it’s androgynous and is like a miniature person more than a baby. It’s sitting on the table rather than in the chair and the girl sitting opposite me keeps on saying that it’s going to make it as a dancer. She keeps it up as if she’s manic or something.

During the meal the teacher starts asking us about our aims in the class and at school. Why are we here? What are our goals? We start giving her our answers but they are silly things, although I can’t remember what they actually were. She tells us that she doesn’t want nonsense to every answer but the nonsense is the answer, they are the reasons we’re here. Then the baby sits in my dinner and it's nappy soaks up all my gravy. All I can think is, “Your dinner’s in the Baby.”

There doesn’t seem to be any particular RL references in this that could even help to approach an interpretation. It was just very odd!

March 14th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

Snacks (1)

There were a lot of different flashes of food stuffs and some other things that I can’t remember but I woke up with the image of spreading goats cheese on crackers.

No Peace! (2)

I am standing in the lounge of my penthouse flat. FM I am having a break but I know that someone is looking for me trying to get me to do something. Through the French doors I can see onto a roof patio. There are vents and skylights on the roof and I can see across to the next building and into their windows. I go out to the roof to have a cigarette and I walk out with a lighter and something else in my hands but no fag. I throw up my hands in exasperation and go back inside to get one. I put the cigarette to my lips as I cross the room to go back out onto the roof but just as I reach to light it I become aware of the people downstairs who are looking for me. My shoulders sink with regret.
I woke up feeling resentful of the fact that I now had to start another day of the same stuff as I do every other day.

Responsibility Vs Personal desires. The fact that I now have so many things that I can’t do are beginning to get me down. My food and drink allergies are especially restrictive. Then I can’t even get dressed up and put some make-up on because I’m allergic to that as well. Add to that the fact that I don’t smoke anymore and could hardly take it up again given the circumstances and suddenly there’s nothing left of me. All the things that I did to cheer myself up I just can’t do anymore. I can’t even eat because I’ll just get even fatter!

I need to re-define myself.

March 15th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

Regression (1)

I am living away from home whilst studying at university. I work in a pub. It isn’t like the ones we had but it did resemble some elements of one of them. I have decided to leave Uni and go back home. Charlie is being looked after upstairs while I do my shift but I’m worried and go up to check on him. His clothes are all dirty and his nappy is full and the sitters don’t seem to be doing it so I do it myself. I put him in a babygro and put him in a big cardboard box to sleep.

I go back downstairs into the kitchen to fill the cheques but the bar is too busy. I apparently am doing everything and have to serve at the bar on my own. When I get behind the bar I see that people are serving themselves. I must be new because they keep on telling me that they normally do this. I ask a woman with a faded blonde beehive do, what she would like. “Vodka and a glass.” She slurs. “Shall I just come and do it dear?” she asks and hands me her glass.

I go to the Vodka optic and begin pouring the drink. Then I remember; it’s got Tia Maria in it not Vodka, I can tell from the smell. I go round to the other bar to use the other Vodka optic downing the Tia Maria as I go. ‘She’s too p****d to notice.” I tell myself. I start filling up this glass with Vodka and, taking the packet of plain crisps that she also ordered, although I don’t remember her ordering them, empty it into the glass. I realise I’ve messed up and just leave the glass on the counter. ‘I really can’t be bothered with this. I’m leaving anyway.’ I think to myself.

A male friend of mine approaches me and asks if he can talk to me for a minute. We go outside to the undercover carport. He starts telling me how he and his girlfriend are having trouble with their sex life. He says that if he could just do it with me then he could get some release and they would be ok. We are sitting on a pile of stuff that’s been covered with tarpaulin. To the right of us is a woman with two small children, she’s trying to get them off to sleep so I drop my voice as I tell him that: a) I love Nigel and would never sleep with anyone else, even as a favour to a mate and b) I don’t think his girlfriend would be very happy with the arrangement.

All of a sudden a big 4x4 truck with a cowprint paintjob comes roaring up the ramp into the carport and runs one of the woman’s children over. I jump up and rush over to help but she’s fine! Just a bit shocked. As the truck speeds off I yell after them, “F*cking Wankers!”

I look at my watch and realise that my shift has finished so now I can leave. Nigel has collected Charlie. I say goodbye to everyone and walk into town. I’m wandering around for a while before I realise that I don’t know my way around or even where the bus station is. I decide to phone my Mum but just to tell her I’m on my way home, not that I’m lost. “Excellent!” she says, “I’ll see you soon then.” and the line goes dead. I hear “Ahem!” from behind me. It’s Mum, she obviously came to meet me as a surprise. I am really pleased and relieved to see her.

A Little Jumpy (2)

I think I must have been woken up but only very vaguely came round because the effect was like a fast-forward.

Everybody from the pub is now on a sandy beach. We’re all in beachwear but it’s not really warm enough for it. The small child that was run over earlier and some other children are playing with buckets and spades. They are flicking something with the spades along the sand. The sea is to my right. Everyone is playing in the sand and with the little red spiders that start popping in and out of little holes in it. The one that came out of the hole nearest me jumps. I scream and shout, “They’re jumpy spiders!” All the children start laughing at me. The little kids sibling comes running up to me with one in his hand, “You have it.” He grins offering it to me. As I run away I shout over my shoulder that someone else can have it. I know it’s upset him but I am too scared of them. Everybody laughs at me.

Later, as we’re all having dinner, the kid to my left wants to show me something. Under the table he opens his hand to reveal one of the spiders from the beach. I shudder and turn the other way. To my right is Sally from Home and Away when she was little, she grins at me and shows me that she’s got one too. I realise that she should be older and that this can’t be real. I feel confused and repulsed which wakes me up.

I think this is more of the redefinition thing. Going back home signifying going back to my core. Wandering lost in unfamiliar territory. Leaving the alcohol and Chefing behind; it all says ‘finding a new way’ to me. The Spiders just mean that it’s scary.

A Night on the Town (1)

There is a group of about 8 of us. It’s late at night and we’re sliding through the streets on a long, plastic covered, pew cushion as if it were a sled on snow. We slide down a slope over the pedestrianised town centre street, heading towards a pub. There are loads of hanging baskets strewn across the pavement. It’s obvious that a group of p****d up lads have been kicking them around. There’s mud and flowers everywhere and there’s one guy still treading through it all and ‘skiing’ it around making tracks with it. As we swish past he yells at us, “I did that.” Pointing at the muddy tracks he’s made.

The scene changes to us all going through the doors to the Treasure Island Soft Play Centre doors. It’s dark inside and there are no staff on duty. There’s a woman with a baby that needs feeding and I know that they do free jars of baby food here so I start rummaging around on the other side of the food counter, trying to find some. It’s in a clear plastic tub, like an old ice cream tub. I give the woman a jar and we all look at the menu. Everyone decides that they want curry but there’s no one to serve us.

March 16th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

Medium (1)

I am a Medium!

I travel to the Underworld to put the dead at their ease and help them pass over. I have an assistant who is also my friend though I don’t recognise her from RL. We descend a stone stairway, which leads into a crypt. We’ve done this many times before and neither of us is even apprehensive, until we see what we’re dealing with. Most of the dead we deal with are not covered, in fact they are usually just like their physical selves. Normally I would approach them where they lay, look deep into their eyes whilst emanating a peaceful calm and projecting it to them. Through me they would see images of the realm beyond and be reassured. They could then pass peacefully and I would close their eyelids.

This one is different. The dead is a large lady. She is dressed in a dark floral dress and black court shoes. Her hair is a dark blond and it’s pulled back into a tight bun on the top of her head. She is encased in a kind of clear Perspex coffin. She is rigid, her chin pulled right in tight creating several chins below it and her eyes are fixed wide open as if by force.

I approach her as I would have done any other dead and begin projecting calm images. Her face doesn’t change. I pass my hand over her face above the Perspex and hope that it’s enough. Much to my relief her eyes are closed as my hands pass away but almost instantly they spring open again. I repeat the ritual but the same thing happens and her eyes stay stubbornly open on the next attempt. I try to explain to her that we are trying to help, “We want you to be at peace and depart this plane fully.” Her eyes slide to look at me and I’m thrown backwards. The large lady disappears leaving an exhalation of fear and confusion. She will not accept that she is dead and is plainly dangerous in her confusion and rage.

I return to the world and discover that she has manifested close by, in her old flat. She’s turned it all upside down and is raging about the rooms. I am on my own now and realise that I am going to need some help. I go to another friends house to discuss possible ways of seeing the woman over. We are standing in the kitchen of her flat by the worktop, drinking tea. Her little boy is opposite us playing on a beanbag by the kitchen door.

Suddenly the large lady manifests and pours herself into the little boy. He begins shouting and calling his mummy but in the ladies voice. As his cries become weaker he starts to sink into the beanbag. It’s understood that she means to take him with her and that he’ll be trapped along with her in her flat. My friend yells at me to grab the coffee out of the cupboard. I get all the instant coffee I can find and we pour it all into the mouth that is all that’s left of the little boy as it swirls away.

I think we got the boy back.

When I get back to my own flat, my Brother, Gareth, is waiting. We have some expenses to cover and it’s as if he’s doing my books. I need to pay for some supplies for these mediumship jobs. The telephone rings and it’s my Uncle Don. I explain about today’s job and he said that he would cover any costs on this one. I tell Gareth and the scene fades.

I must have been woken up briefly because this next one registered as if I had been dreaming already but this was the only bit I could remember.

The Processional (2)

My family and I are in a field. There is a gathering of people trucks and stalls making a rough square on the other side of it. It’s understood that this is an old church reunion gathering; a reunion for a church I went to when I was a kid. We know that all of my extended family are there and we know that we really don’t want to be. I wander off to look for Gareth but find Marie, my sister, instead, on the back of a truck.

The truck is part of a procession of vehicles that are driving around the car park. Marie has apparently won something and is being paraded around. There are various books and boxes on the truck with her and she’s holding out in front of her two raw chicken fillets, as if they’re her prize or a token of some description.

There were lots of people there that I knew IRL back in the church days and I felt as if I was looking for someone in particular. I didn’t find them and still don’t know who it might have been. I do remember thinking that the whole thing was really embarrassingly lame.

March 20th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

They tried to make me go to re-hab, I said…Erm, well, yeah all right then. (1)

I’m wandering around town with a bunch of mates. It feels like when I was at university. Lots of eating, Drinking, Smoking cigarettes and basically just hanging. I see my Mum at one point and it seems that Mazz was with us because she then goes off home.Gradually people split off and I go back to where I’m staying.

It’s an Edwardian Manor house that’s been converted into an institution-cum-rehabilitation centre. There are several residents and we’re all on the same programme. Stephen Fry is staying, a young hoodie, boy band type, me and Nigel and about four others. Nigel is making some tea and I go to try and find Stephen. I eventually find him out in the garden or rather he isn’t that far in it. At the back of the house, before you reach the garden there is a red brick yard where the outhouses would have been. Stephen is sitting facing one of these with an easel in front of him. He is painting the most beautiful watercolour landscape of rolling meadows and standing stones but the way he is looking at the brick walls, is as if he can see the landscape in front of him and is drawing it by sight. I ask him if he would like a cup of tea, “Oh yes, that would be delightful.” He responds.

I make my way back into the house but as I go I catch sight of a black cat, Meeshka perhaps but she has Charlie’s red stacking cup on her head and the red ring from his tower, around her neck. I have a vivid false memory of my mum having done it to her once before and know without doubt that she did it this time as well.

Time shift

Back in the common room and it’s time for games. We all know that it’s part of the programme, although there doesn’t seem to be anyone around that could relate to an official or carer or anything. I play a Velcro ball game with Stephen. We both have to wear a fluorescent vest with patches of Velcro on. We each take turns throwing balls at each other, trying to hit the Velcro and get the ball to stick. I am laughing my head off and remark to Stephen that it is a most surreal experience, playing ball with one of my favourite television personalities. Bing-bong Lucidity calling! Everybody has to do their piece of poetry before we can have our free time and as we go round the room Nigel keeps popping his head around the door, asking everyone if they’d like anything or if there is anything that he can do. He wouldn’t join in the games because he was too busy and he gabbled his poetry and then went to make some more tea.

While we’re waiting for the last lad to do his reading I sit on the sofa with Stephen as he reads a newspaper. The Hoodie lad says that he really wants to do his poetry but he’s just a bit shy. I tell him that he can do it in the corner where he’s standing and just say it there. He takes me a bit literally and begins mumbling into the corner. I can’t hear him and now there’s a noise from somewhere else as well, I think maybe Nigel was snoring.

I tell the boy to start again, “and this time speak up.” I still can’t hear him because he’s mumbling at the floor. He says he’s just too nervous. Finally I suggest that he do the poem just to me, as if no one else were in the room. He picks up a candlestick and uses it like a mic. It’s the best piece of poetry I’ve ever heard. Nigel sticks his head round the door and asks the room at large if we’d like a cuppa?

As soon as I started showing signs of wakefulness Nigel came over and asked of I wanted a cup of tea. I nearly wet myself. J

I think this one is mostly to do with how I’ve been dealing with my Alcohol allergy. My life has been one long enforced stint in rehab just lately. As much as I adore Stephen Fry, I think he was there as an indication of my depression over this phase. It’s been very difficult to deal with the reality of altering my personality to fit the new rules and most of it I’ve done by laughing it off, putting the face on, as you do. I associate Stephen Fry with that kind of state of mind. The games, Poetry and Art all serve to remind me that there are beautiful things to be had in the harshest of situations and I have the ability to recognise them as such.

March 30th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

You’ve been FRANKED! (1)

I am in an outdoor equipment warehouse. It’s full of really hip long sleeved T’s and rucksacks; things like that. I know I’m there for a reason but I’m not sure what it is. The people in the warehouse store are supposed to make a team and I end up with the fat boy out of Gavin and Stacy, I don’t know his name. An Asian chick. A white girl with short hair and I think there are others. I still don’t know why we’re in this group. Fat boy appears to be the owner of the shop and starts showing me around, it’s clear he fancies me, ding ding, that only happens in dreams these days! We all form a group and it becomes clear that some of us are carrying drugs.

Location shift

We’re at Fat boys house and there is a lot of cannabis resin kicking about there are whole quarters just laying about on the coffee table. The white bird starts skinning up and the Asian lass starts cutting out a white powder. I know damn well that I can’t have any even if I want it so I resist the urge to say ‘bugger it’ and have some anyway, by going out into the garden. Fat boys back garden is absolutely full of adult sized soft play equipment it’s fantastic. I realise that I would much sooner be playing on this than be sitting indoors getting stoned and I spend all afternoon doing just that.

Time and Local shift

We are back in Fat boys store and he has bought me a T shirt it’s brilliant and I give him a kiss to say thank you. All of a sudden a camera crew appear and the host from the FRANK advert quiz show. They’ve been following the members of each team to see who resisted taking the drugs. I won or at least I should have but they gave my prize to some leggy blonde. A very weird old bloke with only one eye starts filming the winning girl and I have to get back to work. (FM) I was only meant to be on my lunch break and I’ve left the girl from ‘chicken shack’ who offered to cover, there all day. (FM) I rush into the chip shop, wha?? to find that it’s total chaos. The girl I left in charge comes out from behind the counter; she’s wearing a 60’s style big flower print mini dress. She looks at me reproachfully but also apologetically and hurries out of the shop. I sigh and begin putting on my blue apron as I walk behind the counter.

Same thing again. Still working through those mentality changes!

March 31st 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

Ashes to Ashes (1)

I meet Mum as arranged by (FM) telephone conversation. We are in the same town as we were during previous dreams. It’s like a cross between Wolves and Swich. She arrives riding a kind of motorised tricycle and she can’t control it properly. I ask her where her suitcase is, she says, “it’s here.” She proceeds to show me how her new fangled bike transforms into a suitcase and with great difficulty turns it back again. We are standing on the corner of a pavement between the pedestrianised street and a crossing road. There is a tree planted in one of those concrete planters and Mum drives straight into it.

I think I was woken up briefly and the scene cuts to later on in her visit.

We arrive outside a very old church. Mum leads the way into the graveyard and up to a crypt. Inside the crypt is a wooden coffin and I know that it is the family coffin. It is much in need of repair and Mum sets to. It is in a Victorian style with a kind of gabled headpiece that ends in a point. It even has what remind me of eaves to either side so that it resembles a roof. The headpiece is falling apart and even though I know it’s not going to do any good I begin nailing it together with 3 nails. It is very important to Mum and she’s telling me how she would like all of us to use it. “Just mend it up a bit and It’ll be fine, even up to Gareth.”
“It’ll be good as new.” I say to her, trying to be positive, “like so!” I lift the coffin up having finished hammering the last nail into it and the whole thing comes away in my hands. The remainder of it crashes to the ground.

The funeral that was in the church makes it’s way out and down the steps. We hastily shove the pieces of the coffin back into the crypt. I thought Mum was going to be really upset about it but she just starts telling me all about these funereal chains that have been about for centuries. She explains that the more well off people used to have them made for their loved ones, so that they would be remembered. She pulls one up; it’s a chain link that has had flowers woven into the links by their stems forming a bouquet at the end of the chain. At the top they have a brass platelet that the chains hang from and I take hold of one to pull it up. It is embedded in the grass and the chains come up black where the flowers have rotted and they leave a dark wound in the grass. I pull up another as Mum does the same. I realise that there are two sets of 3 here; 3 nails for the coffin and 3 funereal chains.

I wake again briefly and notice the moonlight in the room.

Not enough ‘yuk’ in the world (2)

I am observing a girl from the past. It’s like I’m watching a rerun that’s being played for my benefit alone. I feel that she is part of a travelling carnival and she’s looking for something. Her search takes her to a chapel on a hill, it feels like the same churchyard from before only in the distant past. I think that if I went to look for the chapel in the dreams present time line, I would only find a ruin of it.


The door is not locked and we are soon inside. There area carnival masks and fascias for the games stalls, all bright colours and large vivid depictions of the games on offer. As an observer I see that a matron type woman has followed the girl. She is dressed as a nun might be but I don’t think she is one. The girl hears a noise as the Matron enters the chapel; she fears it’s the man who abused her before. This knowledge is passed to me as if from her own memory. She is hugely relieved when she sees that it is in fact this matron like woman. The girl doesn’t know the woman but I have the knowledge that she is in league with the man that the girl fears.

As matron comes closer, the girl finds the bowl that she’s been looking for. It is completely unremarkable and in fact looks like something you might use to put wet washing in. Matron reaches for the girl and pushes her forward until she is half sitting half crouching in the bowl. “Girls who behave like that,” she says levelly, “deserve their punishments!” It becomes clear that this matron woman intends to do to the girl what the man would have done had he been there. It’s as if Matron is acting on his behalf. The girl can only stare dumbly from her prostrate position.

I see the matrons mind now and to her the girl is little more than a prostitute, at least that is what the man has told her. She believes that she is doing good work. In her right hand she holds a selection of old coins; she intends to stuff them into the girls mouth as she touches her.

Suddenly there’s a sideways jolt as if reality it self has shuddered; Matron falls into the bowl, just as the girl gets out of it, dropping her fist full of coins. My vision is rushing towards the girl and I realise that I am about to become her. I stoop to collect the coins from the floor and run for the exit. I know that there is not enough money there for me to be able to start over, as I’d wanted but I cannot stay around here.

The perspective changes again, back to 3rd person and I watch as the girl runs down the path, away from the hill with the chapel on it and towards the road, outside the iron railings of the church grounds.

April 2nd 2008

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Hollyoaks (1)

Bit fragmented this one. It was quite cohesive at the time but I didn’t write it down quickly enough.

I am in an episode of Hollyoaks. It’s the morning after I slept with Hannah. It isn’t such a big thing for me as my character is gay anyway but obviously for Hannah it is. I’m getting ready to go swimming with my parents; I figure I must be between 17 and 19 years old. I pack up my swimming stuff and just as I’m going to leave her parents enter from the kitchen. Hannah introduces me as her girlfriend, which causes the inevitable turmoil. Parents start throwing questions and accusations around until finally they leave. As I turn to leave too Hannah does her pleading face, mascara running, and begs me not to leave her on her own so I stay.

Time shift

I am walking with Chris on his way to work; we’re discussing this thing with Hannah. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say!” He says in his Northern Irish accent, “The girl’s in love with you and I can’t say I blame ‘er.” We go into the shop. It’s not long after Christmas and there are cut price handbags everywhere but they’re hideous nasty. I laugh at some of the things that he’s trying to get rid of and he starts trying to hustle me out the door.

We see Rita, I have no idea who she is or where she comes from, I don’t recognise her at all, She is carrying the sleeping bag that she’s been sleeping in throughout the rape trial (???) He got off on a technicality as they couldn’t verify 5 of the victims as actual rape.

Have no idea where the last bit came from. It was still with the Hollyoaks vibe but apropos of nothing.

At last! I finally caught up with my write ups.

I'm sure my SC has been waiting until I was up to date before allowing me to remember anymore.

My recall has be atrocious just lately.

Hopefully I can get back on track now.

April 11th 2008

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SC Telling off (HI/ND)

I am dreaming about dreaming and the things associated with it. I have flashes of places that I might sleep/dream in, like a film trailer. There’s my bed, obviously, our tent and both parents houses, a hotel room and a bed and breakfast. There’s a caption with a voice over that says, “Wherever you are and whatever you do…DJ!”

I think my SC is telling me off for being a bit lax with the writing down of some really good dreams. Must be something I’m supposed to see.

Gull Nuts (1)

When I came to write this sequence down I didn’t give myself enough time to remember all of the separate bits. To start with I had great recall of the most recent one (the second bit) but then I suddenly remembered what the first bit had been and so started with that. However when I came to writing the second part I found that I couldn’t remember that now. I think maybe I should have written the second part in my notes first and then gone back to the start, because I already knew by then that I could recall the first bit. I lost the second part purely for the sake of keeping my notes linear, which they totally aren’t anyway so…

Plus I think they were two separate dreams.

Charlie and I were spending the day in Felixstowe and we had walked down to the beach. We didn’t walk down the promenade but approached the pier from the road, walking across the prom. Where the Ice cream parlour and the water attraction used to be there was now a concrete square of a building. It looks like a toilet block but it turns out to be selling nuts for the public to throw to the gulls. There are Seagulls EVERYWHERE, just mobs of them! We buy some Gull nuts and go onto the beach. The nuts are huge, they’re like the size of walnuts but they’re half open in their shells like pistachios are and look like giant sunflower seeds inside. Charlie is enjoying breaking them out of their shells and throwing them to the birds. When the Gull nuts are all gone we go for a walk on the beach.

The Music Man (2)

There was a lot more to this dream, including something about gigging and a marquee tent. I think that is where this fragment must have been set.

…Paul McCartney was sitting in the middle. There are cushions scattered about behind him and he’s sitting, cross-legged on the floor. He starts off with a guitar on his lap and there is a conversation about whether or not it is a guitar or not. It’s decided that it must be, at which point it turns into a sitar and he begins to play.


The Music Woman (3)

A few nights ago I had a dream about having to fill out a music questionnaire. I had zero recall on this fact until I started the notes for this one.

FM of having to dig the questionnaire out because the woman is coming round today and I’d promised my friend that I would.

The set up is that Suzanne, a childhood friend, lives with Nigel and I as a lodger in our 3 bed semi, there appear to be no children. The woman is Suzanne’s boss and she arrives when we are all still in bed. She comes into the house and I make a cup of tea. I get back into bed with Nigel, Suzanne sits on the edge and the woman sits in a big black, leather, swivel chair, near our heads.

We present this woman, she doesn’t give a name, with our completed questionnaires but it transpires that they are old versions and need updating. She goes in her bag and finds the most recent copies. Suzanne has a new one as well but hers is quite crumpled up. She tries to smooth it out over her knees with little success; this earns her a glower from the woman.

I try to take the new version from the woman in the hope that I can fill it in later and get rid of her but she wont let it go. I try to turn it into a joke and mime trying to tear it from her grasp, “gimme, gimme.” I laugh. She is not amused. As we begin to go through the survey, Suzanne shows me her copy of the new one and I become very aware of the fact that she is in only her nightie. Nigel seems to realise what went through my head because he starts pushing into my back.

There are loads of bands and singers names on my list and near the top is one particular one that the rep says is her favourite singer. We talk a bit about music and then she asks Suzanne about what equipment she wants to order for this revolution. She reels off a bunch of technical sounding names but Suzanne doesn’t really know what she’s going to need. I suddenly have the knowledge and give her some prompts in the right direction. During the dream I knew all of the terms and names of the equipment and what they were used for. Obviously couldn’t remember when it came to recounting it.

I have to get up and go to the loo. When I get back I try to hold a mantra of ‘Remember I’m Dreaming’ in my head but Nigel is wriggling.

There’s a Snake at the bottom of my Garden (4)

Nigel, the boys and I are in the garden straightening out after winter. The grass is getting long but it’s lush and green. I pick up a few pieces of equipment off the ground and stack them back on the shelves next to my vegetable plot, where I keep them.

From the bottom of the garden facing the house there’s my veg plot to the left and a split-level step up halfway between it and the house. As I’m making my way back to the house I spot a bright movement to my left and looking more closely, see a bright red snake. It’s would be about 4ft long out head to tail and has a large diamond pattern around it’s body, picked out in black and white. It slithers towards the chain link fence and then stops near an overturned flowerpot. It turns to look at me. I know it’s not dangerous but I don’t want to disturb it.

I continue tidying, keeping an eye on where the snake is when I see another movement, to my right this time. It’s a light brown snake, slightly smaller than the red. It glides in tight to the grassy step; it also looks at me. Meeshka is showing some interest in both snakes and I shoo her away as quietly as I can. I decide to leave the gardening until the snakes have moved on.

FFWRD

Later the same day it’s been snowing. I look out the window and see that the wind has blown my shelves over onto the vegetable patch. I imagine the damage that they’ve done to my seedlings, not to mention the weather. I feel a little ambiguous about the possible damage to my crops as they are proving to be more of a worry this year than last and I just think that if they were destroyed through natural misadventure, well then at least I would know one way or the other. Of course I know that I’ll carry on with whatever’s left because that’s what I do.

As I stare out of the window I see my child, he’s actually a composite of Charlie and Stefan but at about 5yrs old. He’s shouting that there are snakes in the garden and he’s jumping about excitedly. I rush out to tell him to be careful but I’m apparently too late as he has blood pouring out of his ankles. The red snake has bitten him. I sit him on the snowy step and begin trying to pack the worse wound on his left ankle, with snow. I can’t do it very well because the snow is more like foam and disappears almost immediately. All I can think is that, if I can just pack enough snow onto it then I’ll be able to get him to hospital.

The MILD obviously worked on some level because this dream had perfect clarity; So much so that I’m surprised that I didn’t come lucid.

The dangers in the garden are a reflection of my worries regarding Charlie damaging himself now that he’s toddling. The garden setting is guilt over the fact that I haven’t been tending mine as much as maybe I ought to be. However I have had a bad back recently and the weather has left a lot to be desired.

April 12th 2008

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Public Transport Take One (1)

I’m on a train with no seats. I don’t know where I’m going but I know I don’t want to be here. There are people all around getting drunk and pigging out on food. None of which I can have. The atmosphere is like that of one of our pubs and there are some people on board that I recognise from there.

The train it’s self is like they have in India because there are people randomly climbing out of the windows to stand on the runners. I see Adam wobbling about trying to get out of a window and have a particularly graphic view of him vomiting over the roof. Faith comes over to me and informs me of the fact. I can’t help wondering if he’s cleaned his teeth or at least rinsed his mouth out. He never used to IWL and he’d stick his face right at you when talking to you afterwards as well. It was nasty.

Public Transport Take Two (2)

I remember coming out of a building but I’m not sure what the building was. It might even have been the train station as a continuation of Take One or it may have been school.

It’s raining but I need to catch the bus. I look down the high street to my right and I can see both buses coming. There’s a ‘Belle coaches’ coach and a ‘County Travel’ bus. The Belle makes it first as the County has to stop for passengers. It’s not my normal one but I get on anyway.

Hello! Lucid Bus Anybody???!!!

I still don’t know where I’m going but at least I’m off the train. The journey seems to be progressing quite normally but then I notice that we’re going faster than we should be and the interior of the bus has changed. It’s considerably bigger and my seat now seems to be in the middle of the aisle. This being the case I can now see out of the bay window at the front. The shops are whizzing past quicker than the bus should be able to go (!!!!); there are no other cars on the road, which now resembles a motorway or even a runway. It suddenly curves upwards an inordinate amount and I yell out, “we’re going upside down! Oh my god, we’re upside down! Argh!”

Once we get the other side of the loop the driver has to stop. I have the feeling it’s because of my outburst. All the passengers move seats and Stefan comes and sits beside me. All the old dears that are on board start glowering at me and I actually feel intimidated by them.

The journey continues and we all alight from the bus, only to find that we’ve gone round in a big circle and we’re back in town. As I step down from it I see Nigel just in front. He is dressed in his work gear and the car has blatantly broken down. The bonnet is up, there’s oil everywhere and Nigel is using a rag to get the grease off his hands. He does not look happy at all.

Nigel has put the car in for a service this morning and it always costs money that we could do without having to spend. Obviously some of this got mixed up with my present journey. That would be the one of life, considering the lack of destination and going upside down and round in circles scenario.

Violets Blue (3)

I’m out on the cliffs near Sizewell, looking for plants to collect. I think they might be something to do with a spell. There’s a particular Violet type plant that I’m after but it only grows within the perimeter fence of the power station. I can see quite a few of them but they’re too far away for me to reach and I walk along the fence to see if I can spot one close enough to pilfer. The only one that I can find is quite out in the open in terms of being spotted and it also has a tree growing right on top of it. I lie down on my front and begin trying to dig it out. I try to find a gap big enough to get my trowel into but I can’t see a way to get it out from under the tree. As I try to loosen the flower from its position it becomes apparent that, contrary to my knowledge, the flower is from a bulb. I know it shouldn’t be, which makes me want it all the more.

I find a break in the bulb that I can use to split it from the rest but as I’m about to bring it up a pretty woman with blonde hair approaches me. She is clearly from the power station with her name badge and clipboard and for some reason I feel that it’s such a shame that someone so pretty should be involved there. I can’t make out her name badge but I think her name is Amanda. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” She says. I explain to her that it’s just for personal use and it wont go any further and I get the feeling that she might have even let me have it if her superior hadn’t come along at just that moment. She looks mortified and blushes, which makes her sublimely gorgeous. She turns to the man who is above her and explains on my behalf in a low voice. I see him shake his head and look at me as if I’m an alien. All the while I’m still trying to get at the plant, I think if I can just get it out then I can cheese it, since I don’t think either if them would be quick enough to catch me.

Amanda comes back to my side, looks at me with a kind of glassy look and says, “It is not permitted to dig up that Violet.”

I think I went on into something else but I can’t remember what.

Probably a very banal result of my uncertainty regarding the vegetables and what to do when. Ironically as I’m writing this the day after I had it, from the notes I made I hasten to add, I have this morning, sown all the seeds that I had left to sow, indoor and outdoor.

April 13th 2008

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On a Mission (1)

I’m on an intel mission. I’m looking for information on something or someone, I don’t exactly know what I’m looking for but I’m committed to finding it. It’s an amateur operation, I’m connected to my client/friend via mobile phone but there are no other gadgets involved. The mission brief is to go into the crafts shop specified and collect intelligence whilst posing as a customer buying a carpentry tool. Nod nod, wink wink, . I am dressed up like a businesswoman in a tweedy pencil skirt, satin blouse of uncertain colour and black patent stilettos.

The shop is inside a mall and my shoes clatter on the faux marble flooring as I struggle to walk in them. My get up elicits several stares as I enter the shop and I try to remain calm and convincing. Inside, the shop is full, floor to ceiling, with little implements, most of which I don’t recognise. The object of the investigation approaches me; he’s a sales assistant and asks if there is anything he can do to help me. I reel out the cover story and he takes me to the other side of the shop. On the wall in front of me are rows and rows of fine planes, of the carpentry variety. I choose one that is a cross between a plane and a chisel; the fact that it is burgundy in colour seems something of an advantage.

I select the tool and take it from the shelved boxes. There doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motive behind this action and I pay for the tool at the counter. As I’m leaving the shop I take my mobile out to phone my client/friend as agreed but she walks past the shop as the call connects. I quickly end the call but this makes the men in the shop suspicious. I mumble something about voicemail and stuff the phone in my bag.

When we get back to the safe house we take the tool out and examine it. It’s a nice looking tool but it’s of no help in our investigation. We’re going to have to go back.

It might be a reference to the academic tools that I’m going to need if I continue to pursue my Dream Therapy ideas. I’m finding the psychology courses a bit dry and could do with something that would give me a bit of freedom to mess with the genre.

Doctor Pseudo [color=blue](2)[/color]

I felt as if I were in an episode of Doctor Who in this dream but it was like I was one of the ones left behind after he’d turned up and done his thing and buggered off again.

I’ve just set a bunch of explosive devices to go off any second…RUN! I run from the manor house with the fireball chasing me; several other people are trying to keep up. I don’t think we lost anybody.

That was a close one but it should mean the last of them. Who? What? *Shrugs* Looking around all I can see is desolation. Buildings on fire, people wandering around without a clue who they are let alone where and there’s nowhere to live. We are the only resistant pocket but they’re so stretched that they wont be able to send any reinforcements.

If that were it then there wouldn’t be a problem but tent city was getting full to bursting. More people were turning up everyday and the allocation of roof space was slow enough before the hit. In order to stake a claim on one of the few buildings left habitable, one must have a Golfing record. Not necessarily a handicap but at least three instances of having played a reasonable round. Obviously not everyone can or does play and as usual it means that the old boys club is in full operation.

Boy band Hoodie boy from rehab is in a really bad way and we (?) decide to forge him some golf scores that will help get him into a house.

Obviously a mixture of the conversations I’ve had recently about Dr Who on LD4ALL, plus watching it, and having played golf and watched the last round of the Masters yesterday. might be something about helping an adolescent boy, perhaps even Stefan, since he’s
appeared in two fairly vivid dreams.

April 15th 2008

Comment Normal Dream Lucid Dream False Awakening Interpretation

I had at least three other dreams this night, all of which danced tantalisingly close to recollection just before slipping away. I tried to do a MILD this night but I think I was just too tired. A few early nights should put pay to that but with Nigel not even getting home from work until nearly 10 O ‘clock every night, early nights aren’t really on the cards.

Barbecues (1)

On my patio just outside the backdoor on the left, is a barbecue. It is set up in a shelf formation of metal shelves. The barbecuing plate is just one of the instant barbecues that we take when we go camping and is therefore moveable.

The first attempt to light it doesn’t take and so I move it out from under the first shelf, putting it on the top. I attempt it again and it flares up lovely. For some reason, when I go back to check it the barbecue is back on the lower shelf and is unlit! I think nothing of it and proceed to light it. This time however I have neglected to put it on the top shelf.

When I go out to check the progress of the burning coals I realise my error. The shelf above is getting very hot and is not far from catching alight. I grab a cloth and manage to pull the barbecue out and put it on the top shelf where it should be. The coals are nicely charred and ready for cooking on.

I go to the kitchen to collect the tub containing the meat; it’s quite large. I take it out to the garden and unceremoniously dump the whole lot on the hot griddle. It spits and flares at me. Once I’ve kind of smoothed out the food so it will cook evenly I take the big tub back in the house then return to watch over the cooking food.

Sometime later, just as the food is nearly cooked, it begins to rain. Large splats of water are making the coals hiss and the ash dance towards the food that has taken so long to cook, it’s also hitting the food and splashing everywhere. Quick thinking, I grab an opened out compost bag, that I use to keep the soil warm in early spring. I spread it out over the barbecue but there’s nothing to support it and my arms are burning.

Using my right arm I support the plastic and drape it over the back of the shelving unit. My arm is burning but at least I have my let arm free to turn the food for the final time. The plastic looks as if it might melt and I work fast to get it done in time.

Success! The food is cooked and I can finally serve it without worrying about anyone getting sick. Working as quickly as I can, to stop it from getting wet, I transfer the food from the barbecue to a platter just inside the back door. The very second this is done it stops raining. It’s then that I realise that it’s dark and has been for some time. Simultaneously I think how much this dream reminds me of that Barbecue party I went to in Pendeford once.

I of course woke up immediately. (!!!)

I think this might be as a result of the barbecue we had whilst camping at Stonham Barns last weekend. I lit the instant Barbecue, forgetting that you’re supposed to remove the cardboard outer BEFORE lighting. We had to use a knife and some fairly tricky sliding technique to get it out from under it. Once we’d done so it was fairly evident just how close to catching fire it had been. We also spent the entire weekend looking at the sky, waiting for the rain/hail/snow!