I was having one of those dreams where you think what’s happening is real, and you’ve even asked yourself and said “This must be real cos I just woke up from a dream and…well… I am now awake” (in a castle, with my parents… having just dreamt about being in a castle)
In the dream I thought I awoke from I was a little girl who’s job it was to make sure a rifle aimed well. Only the rifle was one of those pathetic little bb shooters they probably gave to American kids in the fifties, and my shooting range was the vast type they use to test sniper-rifles. Well I knew my gun would do no good 'I was too ‘dream drunk’ to focus so I just aimed using ‘the force’. All the time this was set several hundred years ago and Time not spent firing the rifle was spent either sprinting around dungeons avoiding supervisor type people or doing hard work that would be tiring for grown men let alone little girls (please, don’t ask me why I was a little girl in this dream. Maybe I miss my nieces… which I do)
Later on I was myself again (a large man who’s daylight self-image is that of a suave James-Bond super SAS dude disguised as an overweight manx resident) I was in Peel (look it up. See my location) at some kind of ship-burning festival (such a festival exists IRL). I am on the castle (this time modern day) and I hear U2 playing. Only they are playing badly so I decide they must be a bad tribute band. But quickly they start to sound good, and everyone else seems to realize this at the same time so a mad rush ensues (Me included. I decide, while I’m not the mad rushing type, it wouldn’t be that bad to catch a glimpse of Bonno). But before long the band finishes playing, the mad rush departs, and the band is revealed to be a couple of beardy blokes, clearly not U2.
I start to climb some ancient castle stairs. The stairs come to an end, and a wooden framed structure continues. Only it’s obviously been built by blind monkeys because it doesn’t make going further any easier. Basically to avoid a 50foot drop I have to grab hold of a beam and swing round and land on flat rock. I complete this move sucessfully (just) and turn round to help the next guy. He struggles. I struggle to grab his coat. I fail. He fails. He falls… hitting beams on his way (the last beam is quite a difficult one to watch him hit as his speed has peaked) Shortly after seeing him hit the beam I see his limp body floating in the sea. Before I get time to decide what to do an old lady falls in (for some reason the water she falls into is a mere foot away. dreams eh) I grab her and get her out and. she’s still breathing but complains about a wart on her neck. I say to her I must do something about that guy, but she says “No… help me!” I ignore her. and suddenly the water where the guy is floating is also a foot away. I grab him out.
I give him cpr, but he’s not responding. Suddenly his body moves ok, but I notice his mouth is full of sand. I’m not sure what to do… moments later I notice his eyeballs are missing and there is sand there instead. And he has no arms. Soon the sand in his mouth and eyes appears to be the wormy kind left on the surface of beaches by sand worms (As disturbing an image to remember as it may sound)
That dream ends and a new one begins, where me and relatives are negotiating waters edge (seems familiar) One falls off and crashes through a boat and under the water. Within seconds I start to panic and dispair wondering if he’s allright.
He’s out of the water. soaking wet. I points at a bridge and says we have to cross it. It quickly gets precarious and I worry deeply for my own safety and my two oldest nieces (who are with us on this journey). At the point where it gets so bad I am sure someone will fall in and be lost forever, the relative who fell in before sees a perfectly normal bridge further down and suggests we doulbe back and use that instead. Duh. So we start to double back. we get to an early point of the bridge. It’s steeper than I remember it, and slippier. I watch my nieces slide down. I start to slide. The dream ends.
Then I had a particularly depressing day. I’ve been off work nearly a week now. I spent the first few days drinking way too much, and the previous few days drinking nothing and sleeping little. During the drinking days I had taken a call from my dad and had to abort it because I was too drunk (he was quite understanding about it the day after, thinking I’d just “enjoyed a few beers in the sun”… if only he knew) My brain chose this day to realize that I missed the fortnight of quality time I’d spent with my nieces and brother two weeks previously. I’d not felt that depressed in a very long time… It didn’t help finding out a few days later that they missed me too and cried because of it. I departed to my bedroom and almost cried myself (but didn’t)
<---- wink