dream #2, Fri 27/11/09

Continuation of dream, but at this point, it's no longer related to previous dream and because I was blogging at an external computer (madly, I might add, so I wouldn't forget my dream), I couldn't type up the whole thing.

(Here's the first part of the dream)

After trying to stand up for Stu, a girl of about eleven called me into her house. I knew that this was going to be sort of dangerous, because her family was rich and they thought of people like me as trash. With trepidation, I followed her in. She told me I could go into parts that no one but family was allowed in. I felt like an intruding babysitter. She had a younger brother and he was playing with his toys. All of a sudden, her mother called. Panic. I hid in their workshop. As if the mother were psychic, she came and sought me out and leant down to see me hiding under a wooden workbench. She wasn't mad at either me or her daughter, and I was glad.

Then all of a sudden, I was on some sort of school camp. I was watching a comedy show - the comedians were famous, and on the stage they played theatre sport type games. I was on a seat, like a trapeze swing, with a wooden plank to sit on and couldn't see the show properly. I swung it to see while my companions sat on theirs with no trouble.

I was part of some special ops team, and there was a beautiful, blond-haired man in my team. There was a growing attraction between us, even though I was aware that I had a partner already. Despite this, our attraction grew.

At one stage, I was adamant to prove how tough I was. As a BSG Starbuck-lookalike watched on, the blond man pressed a knife into my flesh, just above my knee (not far from where I have a scar in real life). He pressed, harder and harder, and pleaded with me to give in so he could stop. I would not let him stop. I began to fade. I said to him "I'm starting to feel faint..." Again, he begged me to make him stop. I wouldn't.

Eventually, he had to take me to our black special ops van and give me first aid. As he bandaged my leg, our faces stooped to kiss. The attraction was electric but I told him I could not: I had someone I loved already.

Bandaged up, I enjoyed the rest of the visit to this location. My high school French teacher Mrs Gorey was there. The blond man was aroused when I spoke to her entirely in French. She went to the door and smoked and we spoke more French. She did not smoke in real life.

 

Loading mentions Retweet
Filed under  //  attraction   children   comedy show   crime   danger   dream   French   hiding   high school   injury   military   rich family   school trip   suffering   swings   teachers  
Posted 5 days ago

dream, Thu 25/6/09

It came back! The dream, that is! At the most unusual time.

There were five of us in a group. We went upstairs to a club. We were in a city I don't know. I think the people I was with were high school classmates, and for some reason I was male.

This crazy woman - a jilted lover or ex of some kind had stormed into said club to ruin the wedding of a couple. For some reason I knew something was wrong because someone left a camera bag at the door of this venue (I've no idea why this signalled trouble). She wore a retro gold sparkly ballgown and was enraged. She smashed glass onto the dancefloor and trashed the place so badly that there was glass and cake everywhere. It also caused a fire. There were children on fire. Myself and my classmates grabbed random children, wrapped them in articles of clothing we'd taken off to smuggle them outside and save their lives.

It was a bit of a massacre.

Then we tried to go to another club to watch a civil marriage. I had got separated from SM (one of the first people I got a crush on in high school) and I was distraught that we didn't wait for him when we were trying to save children.

Somehow we managed to catch up with him and it was only then that I would let us go to the cinema to see a film.

Loading mentions Retweet
Filed under  //  altruism   children   cinema   dream   fire   high school   jealousy   marriage   violence  
Posted 5 months ago

dreams, Sat 25/4/09 & Sun 26/4/09

Sat 25/4/09

I was driving around in the Philippines, in the village one side of my family is from. I was trying to find parking and was frazzled because I was warned not to get out of my car or people would attack me. The roads were so narrow. Eventually, I did find parking, next to some sort of tractor-type thing. A man was operating it, digging earth. I stepped out of my car. I knew I wasn't supposed to park where I did. As if to prove this point, the ground around me began to bleed lava. I stepped and jumped around gingerly, to avoid being burnt by it.


This next dream contains sexual concepts which some may find distressing. Kindly discontinue reading if you are not comfortable with this.


Sun 26/4/09

In the first 'story' of the dream, I was actually two people - an eleven-year-old girl, and a fourteen-year-old girl. We were these beautiful brown (that is, darker than me) girls of Malay-Asiatic origin). I kept swapping between the two personalities. This muscly Pacific Islander man wanted to sleep with each of us. He eventually managed to sleep with the eleven-year-old me, telling me that he would be gentle (I was still quite small whereas he was fully grown). I was petrified, but he was gentle. We showered together in this insanely modern bathroom that seemed to exist in a more run-down shack-type house that reminded me of my provincial Filipino grandmother's house. There was quite a mess to clean off. Soon, the man slept with fourteen-year-old me, not realising that I was a virgin. We also showered to clean the mess in the same uber-modern bathroom.

Then the second story of the dream began. I was driving up a dirt track, past a giant television implanted into the ground. I passed a tin shack with women screaming. I knew that they were being tortured. A very broad Australian man's voice talked casually over the screaming. I found it highly distressing.

I don't remember how it happened, but after driving over the hill, I found myself part of some American secret army operative in Mexico. They were killing informants who had ceased to be informants and were allowed to return to America. The Mexicans didn't want the informants going back to tell Americans what Mexico was like. I drove around in a jeep (more similar to a Filipino jeepney than an army vehicle) and watched Mexican peasants wailing over people being killed. They thought it was their loved ones in body bags on the sides of the roads but it was really informants. This man in our team accidentally killed one woman in our team - she was the smartest. To save us, she scooped up a bomb and ran as far away as she could from us, sacrificing herself. She went to a building and the bomb blew up. When it detonated, an undiscovered ancient Aztec-type building was revealed.

Our team was then all of a sudden in a house, trapped inside with a lethal snake. One of us caught it and put it into a tube similar to what architecture students carry around with them. This same idiot who accidentally shot the smart woman in our team accidentally let out the snake. A family friend suddenly arrived and tried to vacuum it up. Another member in our team caught it by hand but it bit him and he died instantly, sitting on a desk. Eventually we realised, and found the snake next to him. It was caught again.

Loading mentions Retweet
Filed under  //  anachronism   army   assassination   car   children   death   dream   driving   fear   lava   man   Philippines   screaming   sex   shower   snake   torture   village   virgins  
Posted 7 months ago

dream, Thu 12/3/09

A red-lit noticeboard had informed me that Z and S were nearby. I went to the place where they were. Z was manic: introduced me to S. I reminded him I met S first, and him thereafter. He remained manic and proceeded to tell me about Pig Destroyer and their gig, the reason we were there. I said, I knew, that was why I was there. Yes Z, I know who Pig Destroyer are. He seemed amazed by this knowledge.

S and I spoke of poetry and poetics. Z went off to play for the gig as some sort of supporting act.

All of a sudden, I am a child, leaning against a portable classroom with a classmate. Other children approach us. They try to get us do to something we don't want to do and we only listen to them once one pulls out a gun. They say they have a bomb and are going to blow everyone up. I beg them not to do it, to please not blow everyone up because they haven't begun to live, because my brother only just got married, and I say, yes, also because I want to live.

They set off the bomb anyway. Scores of us run in the opposite direction, not knowing that they are setting off another sort of bomb once we stop running.

Things become hazy at this point but I'm with my classmate C and we're in ricefields. Apparently, we're in Japan. The schoolchildren are far more polite there, I tell her. Far more polite than Western children.

Loading mentions Retweet
Filed under  //  bombs   children   gun   Japan   lovers   Pig Destroyer   primary school   ricefields  
Posted 8 months ago