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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1332
(Woke up at 6:00 AM, far too early. Stayed up until 7:30, reattempted to nap, lots of weird dreams then...)
I'm with this person, tall, lanky, I know him somehow (but it escaped me how exactly when we woke up), we're doing something with the boy - a much younger boy, remote controlled in a meadow/pond in the country, rich autumn colors.
And then tall and lanky invites me for breakfast. We go to McDonald's. By the time we arrive he's dressed up and has a wig and his face painted exactly like Ronald McDonald, only his face is done much much paler...His girlfriend is there too, out on the patio surrounded by bags of food, she's small and fat and like him, dressed up exactly like Ronald McDonald. There's so much food on the table and she's busy eating and I'm wondering if some of the food is for me (and he's tucking into bags of food like there's no tomorrow) - I suggest that I'm going to go inside and buy myself some breakfast and offer to buy him some too expecting, of course, that they will tell me there's enough there for all of us - but he doesn't, he tells me he's famished and continues eating with his girlfriend....
Meanwhile the real Ronald McDonald is coming up the street, he's not too tall or too lanky or too small or too fat or too pale, he's coming up the street looking just like Ronald McDonald should then he sees us and seems to stop like he doesn't want to confront these cheap imitations...
And from there the dream dissolves into another .... I'm on a bus and going down a ravine and over a river and I can see from the window that the river is rich pickings for Indian Artifacts, an Estate Sale at a fabulous old house in Mount Royal and a parade down the hill and a girl from work is getting me to take innocent pictures of her with an old Polaroid camera and when I'm done the remaining film feeds through the camera and there are pictures there she won't want me to see....
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1289
That I was in Philadelphia at a flea market, there's an antique dealer there who has a couple of small dancing wood figures on sticks, they're well carved, with that heavy aged patina and magnets on their feet...he tells me that they're part of a "Tom Thumb" game and shows me the rest, there are some magnets they would play with, and an old metal tractor seat that's been beaten into a game board, and he's searching around for the box.
I'm intrigued. I've never seen anything quite like this, and I ask him how much..
He sucks in his breath and goes to tell me...I'm waiting, he's humming and hawing, telling me how rare it is and I'm expecting, 50, maybe a hundred bucks.
$280 dollars with many assurances of it's rarity and value.
Now I could buy it, but it's a bit too expensive and there's other things that I want and he assures me that he comes this way every week, he's from Boston but he does "The Tour" so I can think upon it and I'm wondering how in this part of the world distances are so small....
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1184
And I dreamed that it was late summer and the ex had told me I should take the kids (? my daughter, the owner of the restaurant's daughter) camping in the back yard....and so I wandered and found that the back yard extended for acres until finally it reached a fence before a lane. Late summer, leaves heavy on huge trees, golden grasses, sun setting. A beautiful place for a campsite. And I went to find my way back but no longer was this my yard, it was someone else's yard and I had to cut through many lanes and alleys to find my way home...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1206
I've had literally hundreds of these dreams. I'm lost in London, trying to get somewhere. Last night it was Hackney, missing trains, trying to get onto the right train, flag a taxi, I know - generally - where it is I'm supposed to be going, but for some reason things just aren't working out and I'm not getting there.
And still I keep trying....
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1298
I never dream about sex. Everything else, but never, ever sex. Or so rarely it doesn't bear mention.
So I begin to nap and it's starting to take off, there are women in my dream and then they're there without their shirts, things are getting better. Naked people in my dream. And I'm getting curious, I never dream about sex but there's women (plural), not singular, and so this could be a really good dream.
And then Telus calls. I try for the next 2 hours to get back into this nap, this dream, before finally giving up.