The last one I had was I got mugged by Tariq of Waterloo road
I had a really nice flying dream this morning. I could jump off of high places and just soar. Then a high wind came and sort of dragged me where I didn’t want to go. Still, lovely aerial view over rough, mountainous country. Full color, multi-sensory. If I could record it, I’d put it up on Amazon, and I bet people would pay for it!
I recorded a children’s song in French that was basically a medley of “Au Clair de la Lune,” “Frere Jacques” and “Dominique.” Surprisingly, it was a hit. Then my parents bought a massive house that made me uncomfortable because it reminded me of a museum.
Just yesterday I had the first dream of any significant length that I could remember in probably several years. It was weird.
I was in high school, or at least a high school with a lot of the people I went to school with. It was about time to go home, but a teacher came into the room and said we wouldn’t be dismissed because there was a tornado warning. We all groaned and started arguing with the teachers about why they were overreacting to some dumb thunderstorm (this reaction is the last part of the dream that was in any way realistic). After a few minutes, they decided to split us up into groups and put us on buses to other places so that only some of us would be killed. Nice. On the way to our shelter, we could see this crazy line of huge tornadoes all across the horizon, at least a dozen in all. My group ended up in a rickety old house, in some kind of dank food storage cellar.
Eventually one of the tornadoes hit, and as the house was shaking we all grabbed these pillars that went from floor to the ceiling, but that was a bad idea. The tornado took the roof and the pillars stayed attached to it, while we were all still holding them. This would have sucked, but we ended up in what seemed like controlled flight, sailing through what were now clear blue skies, with a very good view of town and all the things that had been flattened.
We eventually started to fly over my neighborhood, and some of the houses had been destroyed. This was troubling, but it was also when I started to realize that, shit, I was still dangling from some damn flying roof and that was NOT a good situation to be in. So I decided that if I saw that my house had been destroyed I’d just let go and end it all, because dealing with all that loss AND whatever maiming I’d suffer when the roof finally landed would be too much. In any case, that whole situation never really got resolved, because all of a sudden I was in ANOTHER shitty house with a bunch of really old people sitting around. And another tornado came and took this house away too, but this time all that happened is we stayed sitting where we were, with piles of debris all around us afterwards.
That’s where it ended.
I dreamed that someone had either burned down part of the building I work in, or attempted to, or threatened seriously enough that it was being investigated.
I dreamed that I was in a small room with a door with a person who used to work as a manager in my building and got transferred elsewhere. He was doing the investigating. He was short, and cute, and red-headed. And young.
While he was questioning me, a co-worker opened the door and poked her head in. The guy doing the investigating assured her that I’d already cleared her, and I said that the only thing that I knew was that Other Co-worker had thought that a fire was a good way to deal with (too much inventory), but I was pretty sure that had been a joke.
And then I woke up.
When I told the co-workers, Other Co-worker claimed that the person who suggested fire was actually yet someone else, but our Boss thought that him suggesting fire made for a realistic dream.
I dreamed I had to go pee and was searching for a bathroom.
Just the night before last, had to get rid of a yellow jacket nest. No doubt inspired by OldOlds’ thread. Pretty mundane dream, I sprayed the little buggers and they died. Interesting though, I rarely remember dreams at all unless they are very intense.
I take Sertraline for panic attacks and one of the more amusing side-effects is CRAZY dreams. Crazy like you wouldn’t believe. And hyper-realistic. It’s like every night I get a front row seat at a new David Lynch movie in surround sound IMAX.
Last night, I dreamed my housemate caught me stealing his margarine for a potion to cure multiple sclerosis. We had a big argument in the kitchen and I teleported onto a plane to Dublin to attend a symposium on…something. The subject matter isn’t important. What matters is that it was led by Richard Dawkins and Dudley Dursley from the Harry Potter movies. The weird thing was that, while everybody else looked perfectly normal, Richard Dawkins looked exactly as he did in that episode of South Park a few years ago. Still, I didn’t think anything of it and went to a Planetarium. Flappy-head cartoon Dawkins was pointing out a constellation that looked just like him when I realised he was secretly a terrorist and had planted a bomb somewhere in the museum. The museum, incidentally, was an exact replica of William Shakespeare’s house in Stratford-upon-Avon which I visited on a school trip when I was about fourteen. So anyway, I’m running through the house trying to locate the bomb and I find it in an Egyptian sarcophagus.
It’s at this point that things get a little strange. Shakespeare’s house is gone and I’m now in a creepy mansion which I recognised after I woke up as the setting from the classic Doctor Who serial ‘The Pyramids of Mars’. The Pyramids of Mars has giant robot Mummies in it, but luckily I was able to blow them up with telekinesis. I remained surprisingly detached and unemotional during all this carnage until I realised the bomb could be defused by cranking up an old gramophone record player until it got so hot it teleported into another dimension. The bomb thus defused I decided to play with a giant abacus. This thing is about the size of a house and, for reasons I can’t quite recall, it was terribly important that I got the abacus to add up to something. Anyway, I was trying to shift the enormous beads around with a broom handle when…my alarm went off and I got up to work.
I get dreams like that every night, and I must say they’re absolutely fantastic! I always wake up slightly euphoric, and I never used to have them before I started taking Sertraline. They’re incredibly realistic. It really is like being in a movie. I can’t control them at the moment, but I’m reading up on lucid dreaming and trying to put some of the suggested techniques into practise. If I ever get the power to control this It’s gonna be so awesome!
I had dreams that I could fly all the time when I was a kid ! The last dream I can recall had my mom in it ,she was a lot younger than when she dies at 93 yo . I can’t recall what happen in my dream but it was nice to see my mom again even if was only a dream.
I had one last night that I’ve trying to parse all day.
I was invited to do an IT audit in Trump tower. Donald Trump greeted me in his office and said it was at my disposal. The office was not like you’d expect. It was glass enclosed, very modern with dark wood furniture and leather sofas and chairs. Nothing gold or garish as one might expect.
Trump was calm, thoughtful, friendly and welcoming. No bombast or buffoonery. He cleared his desk and left saying he’d be back later in the day after I’d completed the audit.
When he returned, he brought in caterers with platters of bbq and an open bar. There was a large group of people celebrating, some from his office and some from my audit team. He asked me if everything was in order and if I was comfortable in his office. We had a pleasant conversation over a drink while at the back of my mind I worried whether I remembered to leave his desk as clean as I’d found it.
Now you tell me… WTF am I supposed to make of that?!
I dreamed a friend and I climbed to the top of a mountain, and when I looked down, I saw the mountain was made of raspberry jam.
I’ve been writing them down whenever I remember a reasonable number of the details (on average once a month). Last one was July 1:
Unknown location, but it is the outskirts of a small city on a bluff overlooking a bay. Facing the bay and hewn into the side of the cliffs is a semi-circular ring of narrow, masonry apartment buildings, some painted white, others tan, in an 1900s-era English or Dutch architectural style. The roofs of the building are about even with the top of the cliffs. The clifftops are thinly carpeted with long brown strands of dry grass, with a few gnarled trees here and there. A strong breeze is blowing. I have the impression that it’s a very desirable place to live and the rents are high.
A well-worn stone footpath leads down from the clifftop to the building entrances. I go in one of buildings and enter one of the apartments. The occupants are busy getting ready for an event that evening: a stage play being put on at a local bar. I am informed I have a part: an aging prostitute who answers the door to visitors in one scene. It’s explained to me that newbies who haven’t been on stage before always get a part that they have to play in drag. I begin to panic as I don’t know the subject of the play, haven’t seen a script, don’t have a costume and know that I’m going to look ridiculous.
With only a couple hours until the play starts, I rush out to find a costume. Up by the cliffs there’s a kiosk renting funny clothes for tourists to take photos of themselves in. I can’t find anything suitable for the part I’m supposed to play but settle on a dark green corduroy outfit with a frock coat instead. I rush back down to the apartment; a young lady looks me up and down and says, “Well, you can borrow my makeup but you have to find your own stockings and shoes”.
Next I find myself at the venue, costume in hand but shoeless (and stockingless). I see someone reading a playbill and look over their shoulder to maybe figure out what I’m supposed to be doing. The text mentions that I’ll be singing a song during my big scene; panic sets in again as I have no idea what the tune and lyrics might be. I try my voice and find it’s cracking horribly.
Just at this point, mercifully, my alarm sounds.
I had one of the freakin annoying ones that was a mad scramble all over town to find a bathroom that was both working and reachable. After finding around a dozen of them that were locked, behind gaping construction holes, missing, crushed under a tree, already had a line of 50 waiting,blocked by heavily armed orcs, or underwater, I finally found a usable one in a Sears but found my junk no longer had a hole to pee out of.
At which point I woke up and took a piss.
All I can remember still is that I needed to walk through a field to get where I had to go, and this was complicated by a large animal that closely resembled a moose except instead of antlers it had large feathery antennae like a moth. And it was super pissed that me and my imaginary companions needed to cross into its turf. We never did get across because it kept charging us.
The first time I ever had what I believe is called a lucid dream, I wrote it down, because it was so vivid and impressive. It was about five years ago. I’ve had a few since, but here is the description I wrote of the first one.
i was on a bus in Germany, having just arrived from some other country on an island to the southwest, less well-developed,with fewer travelers and I was changing transport to go on to another place for the night. The bus has to drive all the way around the terminal on a platform above the ground maybe 8 feet high, with no guard rail, and the driver needing to make very tight turns to get around, and then turning outward very tightly down a steep ramp, again with no guard rail, to the street.
I was sitting in the seat right behind the driver, but near the aisle, the driver was a young German, short blond hair, and he turned and noticed that i was very impressed with his maneuver, but i didn’t say anything because i couldn’t think of anything I could say in German that would express my admiration, so he just laughed and appreciated my apparent reaction. I was also planning ahead what id need to say in the next town to find a hotel, since i hadn’t been in Germany in a long time.
down in the street, the bus turned right, and started on the road going out of town, and I noted a few apartment buildings, quite old, with store fronts on the ground floor, and thinking they were occupied by fairly poor people, but on closer inspection i saw that there were AC units, and they seemed to be pretty comfortable middle class apartments. One building was of a top heavy architecture, with the upper floors forming a bit of an overhang over the ground floor. One was yellow-tan, the other lime green, but of brick, with few windows, like one for each apartment.
Then the bus continues down a business street, with two story buildings, like mostly storefronts on the ground floor. Some of them had a second story facing without windows, and were ornamented. Each one had 5 or 6 brass bas-relief diagrams, as complex as the attached letters on a Chinese sign. I knew I was dreaming and started to wonder if my mind would simply keep repeating the same diagrams, so i paid close attention and saw that each was different. One like a worker in some kind of an old mill or forge, another like a wading bird in a reedy marsh, all of them in exquisite detail that astonished me that i could create such a thing in my mind. I ws able to freeze-frame my dream at will, and make a leisurely analysis of the artwork The bus went maybe a block or so, with repeating variations of several different kinds of buildings, always interspersed with buildings with those artistic ornaments on them, against a beige background, as if the whole street had been subject to coordinated planning. By this time, I was partly awake, and consciously analyzing my dream as it played out.
Then the bus started to slow down in the traffic, and came to a gradual stop. so the buildings i was seeing were no longer moving past my window. I consciously realized my eyes were actually open, and I was looking at shapes in the room, which corresponded to the detailed buildings in the dream, but without any of the detail, and it took me maybe ten seconds to be able to fully realize that they were objects in the room, and the buildings I saw in my dream slowly and gradually changed into the furniture in my room.
Mine was my recurring anxiety dream where I’m somewhere that’s about to get hit by a tornado but there’s no good shelter anywhere. The details are always a little different, sometimes I’m in a room that’s all glass, sometimes it’s a screened-in porch, sometimes I’m out in the open. Sometimes I can see the tornado, sometimes not but I know it’s coming. Sometimes there’s other people in the dream, sometimes just me.
Last night’s version was a different variation on the theme. My aunt and I were at a park when we saw the tornado coming and the only shelter we could find was the park restroom. We were packed into the restroom with a bunch of other people and I found myself sitting on top of the toilet and hanging onto it. My aunt stepped back outside to see where the tornado was and then she comes running back into the restroom yelling “It’s here! It’s here”… and then I woke up.
I always wake up just before the tornado hits. The freakiest versions are the ones where I can see the tornado coming from a distance away and I just sit there watching it close in because I don’t have anywhere to go.
I had a disturbing dream last night. There was a power outage and I was using a gas powered, portable generator on the driveway to power the kitchen and the carport light. I noticed a change in the pitch of the generator motor and looked out the kitchen door to see seven looters, 6 males and 1 female, hauling it away. I opened the door and yelled “Hey! Bring that back or I’ll get the security footage and turn it over to the cops!”. I remember thinking that there really were no security cameras but thought it would be a good tactic to get them to drop the generator and run. They just laughed and kept going. I went back into the kitchen to dial 911 (on the landline, of course. I don’t even have a landline!) when I heard the kitchen door open. I turned to see one of the looters in my house, 10 feet away and holding a handgun pointed at my forehead. No witnesses. Can’t have any witnesses.
I woke up covered in sweat, my heart racing in my chest. Took a long while to go back to sleep after that…
If this was a traumatic dream I apologize, but I’m still laughing at the imagery! “Run away, run away! The beast will kill us with it’s feathery antennae!” Very Pythonesque.
Had a dream I was in my room and my brother was smashing a wooden plank against my door
It doesn’t appear that you’ve ever participated in a thread you’ve started, beyond the original post. Nor have you responded/participated in any threads anyone else has started.
I’m more curious about this than any of your inane thread topics.