I’m in a hotel, or hostel or a student digs. I’m cooking in the kitchen. Something makes me leave. A fire alarm was possibly the cause. So it was unusual that I head for the lifts (they are like tubes on the hunger games). We are up really high. I turn around and see through the perspex and it’s a long way down. On the outside I find that I am in Burma. I head to a museum along a dirt track. It’s very, green and wet. It’s raining. When I get into the museum some of the taxidermy and plastic exhibits come to life (very much like at night at the musum). They start attacking people and each other. There is an earthquake and the front of the museum sags. There is some major subsidence. We are forced outside. I don’t remember any more.
Tag Archive: high
27/7/10
Ok, last night’s dream was well bizarre. I have absolutely NO idea where my sleeping self pulled this one from. It was quite vivid too.
So, mum and I are in London and decide to catch a show somewhere at the last minute. We manage to get two tickets and head on in. when we get in we are high up, and it’s dim but we are sitting near to the balcony and everyone is trying to get a good look at…me. The reason becomes clear as the dream progresses. It turns out that I am a recently discovered relative (granddaughter to be precise) of the queen. Yes I told you it was bizarre. It gets even better. So everyone is trying to have a gawk, so I (in a move I most DEFINITELY would have done the opposite to in real life) I stand up, wave at people, smile etc..for a few minutes and cameras are whipped out to get pictures of me. Then I sit back down and mutter to mum. ‘Well they’ve had their gawk, lets hope they don’t disturb us during the show.’ …or something to that effect. The word Gawk was definitely used.
We settle down to wait for the show to begin just as the Royal party arrive in their box – it’s the Queen and Prince Charles, plus about 5 others I think. For some reason I wave and attract the attention of Prince Charles, who says something to the Queen, and leaves the box. He then comes over to mum and I to invite us to join them in the royal box. It is now I get the feeling/impression/knowledge that my dream self is a recently discovered granddaughter of the queen, though I am fairly certain that Charles isn’t my dream self’s father but on that I am fuzzy. Anyway, mum and I get up and follow. As we walk, we talk. Not sure about what most of it was – but it did feel a bit awkward. Then we get onto history book or something and he mentions something about ‘the family’ and I reply I love reading Alison Weir books (which in RL I do). He calls her a ‘strumpet’ – obvious dislike in his tone. I remember thinking something about it being amusing comparing the queen (now referred to in dream as a grandmother) as compared with the other grandmother (and here I was confusing RL grandma with my aunt Glenys – fondly referred to as HRH).
Then we enter the royal box and greet everyone, there’s a younger woman there who is one of the queen’s relatives, but not sure who it would be in RL. Then mum and I take our seats. It’s only then that I realise that the royal box is really badly situated – you can’t actually /see/ the stage. The seats (cinema style in three rows with an aisle between. These seats are set into a nook, with a wall obscuring the stage and the seats are also set back from the edge of the ‘box’ – I can see the banister and there is a wide aisle between the banister and the seats.
The show starts and I go to the banister to see. There are some other youngsters there too. Looking down at the stage I can see people in sparkling red, blue and silver outfits and scenery. I hear music from the Phantom of the Opera. I can’t remember the song.
The dream didn’t end here either. I was invited to stay in one of the royal lodgings overnight with mum. Which we do, and it turns out to be some kind of a flat/apartment. I don’t have a change of clothes with me so I rummage through the wardrobes and pull out a lilac outfit (which is very obviously out dated. It also has some kind of a clingy lilac cap (that hides my hair). I push the cap back until I can see hair above my forehead.
As if things couldn’t get more bizarre, as I leave the room mum is in the hall and says something to the effect of ‘oh I was just going through some stuff to find something for you but that looks really nice (which to be perfectly honest was an utter bald like. I looked like a young person in old persons clothing with a matching beanie/turban. In Lilac. Yeah. Then we went outside – a roof garden and it was sunny. Then it got really fuzzy and I woke up.
I had two quite enjoyable dreams last night.
The first dream was a shortish clip. I was in a research team of myself another woman and a man who was leading the party. I felt like I had been granted special permission to be on the trip. We were up on this humongous glacier/ice wall (and it was a wall – at least a mile high – the fields were all tiny and patchwork when I took a peek over the edge) drilling for ice cores. It was /very/ cold up there, we were all in the big Michelin Man high-vis puffy jackets. Our corer appears to be a plastic tube with an odd attachment and I’ve no idea how it worked (If I did I would make a killing, because all that was needed was body weight and it cut through the ice like a hot knife through butter). Our base is near to the edge of the ice wall – as I mentioned I had a peek over the edge (and wasn’t frightened or anything either). The ice is very blocky with a regularish pattern of square and oblong pieces with crevasses surrounding them. The crevasses were filled with ice crystals. The crystals resembles those you would find in a geode or a rock thin section where there has been cracking and re mineralization) so it was perfectly safe to step on and climb over the crevasses. The tops of the blocks were likewise encrusted with these crystals. These crystals are dangerous, and crunched underfoot. The man in charge of the team takes the first core from an area where the ice is completely white, then he lets me try and shows me how. We are studying the variation in the ice, though the reason is now lost to me. The leader directs me to take my core over an area where the ice is white with a broad blue stripe running through it. When we retire for the night after pulling up the core, we sleep in a blocky hollow. I get ill, the air is thin and is making my lungs fill with water and it’s coold. All the blankets are thrown over me but it is not having much effect, they eventually cover me over with their bodies too. I recover. Then the dream faded.
Second dream was odder. And in it I was a boy called Jason. He had dark hair and was fairly slender, no muscle. He seemed to be about 12-14.
It starts with a car chase. The car is white and/or red and Jason is chasing a boy who has committed a crime that he has been blamed for. He is being followed by police and a station wagon typed car with his colleagues in it.
Something happens and the car crashes. It cartwheels and ‘Jason’ is thrown from the car, hit, and then rolls over the snow covered embankment and then lies still on his side. I can’t see any blood but he is still. His back is facing me. Most of the police cars fly past chasing the other car. Others stop by the crash. A man gets out of the station wagon, pulls something out of the boot, where I can see the TV screen with a woman who I ‘know’ to be his partner (and who also happens to be in labour in the hospital) She is giving directions to the guy and both are calling Jason’s name loudly and urgently. He isn’t responding. The man rushes over to him with his kit. Rolls the boy. The last thing I see before the dream shifts is his face. It’s white. Eyes open – he looks shocked. He’s dead.
I know that there is some time travel involved in this dream, because at the same time that he is lying there dead, be is also in a hospital watching the car chase. He’s gotten some small sort of injury that requires a visit to the hospital. The police burst in and try to arrest him for a crime another boy committed (but I didn’t do it! He calls out to them). He has seen the car chase on TV and realises that he has come back in time to stop something. Now he has got to do it all over again, and NOT get himself killed.
Scribbles and Jottings 