I blog when I go abroad, and occasionally when I do stuff in the UK too. There's a nicer interface over here.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Dreams dreams, sleep on a bed of dreams

Dreams, eh? What're they all about? Gabrielle said "Dreams can come true". "Any Dream Will Do" said that gay bloke from Neighbours that definitely isn't gay at all, while dressed in a rainbow coat. "I have a dream" said Martin Luther King, reported as "I had a really weird dream last night" by The Onion.

Well, Gabrielle, I don't want my most recent dreams to come true. Any dream but those dreams will do me tonight, Jase. And Martin? I had a pretty weird dream last night meself, and one the night before 'n all, beat that. See, somewhat annoyingly, I woke up both yesterday and today having just fucking died, or about to die, in a dream. The details are sketchy because I didn't immediately note things down upon waking, something I've been meaning to do for years, but I just about remember the last couple of minutes of each.

On Saturday, I wasn't having fun. People were just being arses to me, several different groups of people that I encountered. Can't remember if I knew them or not, but anyway, you know the sort of dream, I was just kinda wandering through town. Kingston I think. The end came courtesy of a pretty threatening group of goth/metal kids. Not proper kids, I'm talking 18-22 years old or whatever, studenty types. Long hair, long black coats, that kind of rabble. Heads bowed, eyes up, staring through their fringe types. Bit of a mad look on their faces, vaguely Clockwork Orange style. For some reason I had to turn around to go past/through them, and the one nearest me, this fucker in an Opeth shirt, he whipped out a knife and slashed me across the chest, and then stabbed me.

Cheeky fucking twat.

I looked down at me chest and held me hand to it. Quite bloody it was. Then I looked back up. And then I started to feel a bit emotional. It was like being in some rubbish US drama with a deep message. No soundtrack, but time started to slow down and I engaged in a bit of regret/repentance/promise making. It was this kind of "I'm going to die and should/shouldn't have done X, Y and Z", "if I live I'm going to change a few things, put right P, Q and R" mix, with a dash of "better to regret what you've done than what you've not done". Not that any of X, Y, Z, P, Q or R were real things from real life, at least I don't remember them being so. I woke up right after thinking them thoughts, so presumably I died rather than lived, and for a minute or two I just laid there, with those kinds of emotions lingering. In the film depicting this I'll no doubt grab a pen and paper, make a list of things to sort out, get on the blower to people telling them stuff I'd meant to tell them for ages, and all that stuff. In reality I got up and went to the loo, and then watched Soccer AM. Ah well.

This morning's dream was a bit less emotionally interesting, but considerably more violent. This time I had been tortured like fuck, most of the skin having been burnt on my torso (which was way more buff than in real life, hmph!) but in a moment of extreme ingenuity I'd managed to distract my captors and give 'em the slip. Go me! They noticed pretty sharpish but I was by then absolutely pelting it like a madman through town, this time central London I think. Near Covent Garden. I flew down this alleyway, but couldn't get through the crowds, got caught and, I dunno, shot or electrocuted or summat. I died whatever. Woke up at that instant with my heart absolutely racing (I had been running very fast) and generally not feeling too great about things. Fuck knows who the people torturing and killing me were, but there was definitely no emotion attached this time. I had no sense of having wronged them or any reasons behind the grief they were giving me, nowt like that. Bastards.

So, what a load of bollocks that all is. I could do without starting the day like that tbh. Fuck knows if there's anything in the whole dream-interpretation business, I've not bothered to look anything up, but frankly I'm going to bed in about an hour and I won't be bloody happy if I wake up tomorrow morning having been fucking killed again. Got that, subconscious/alternate realm?

1 comment:

Nige said...

This entry made me literally LOL at my desk at work. Dead funny it was.