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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1739
I'm living with a young Agatha Christie in the Southern US. It's not a romantic thing, I'm a lodger, I'm never home anyways because I'm working in this big restaurant, a Texas-styled bar and grill, I'm there all the time, day and night, all the waiters are older like me and it's got the vague feel of an ongoing nightmare from which there's no escape ....
When finally I do get home Agatha tells me she wants to move. The paint has blistered on the walls into curses and demonic sayings, blood leeches from the walls and the rooms are filled with an evil presence. The house is possessed. I go upstairs and in the hall on the way to my bedroom I find myself - for a moment - floating, before I land next to my room.
I can't blame her for wanting to move and so I say goodbye and she leaves. Now I have no place to live and find my way to the outskirts of town to hitchhike on to another town. There are other, older drifters like myself there trying to catch a ride as well. And then I'm talking to someone who's explaining to me how the house wasn't really haunted, how the place where I floated through the air is a geophysical anomoly, and remember, when I was flying there in the plane, how I floated up in my seat when we flew over the house? And I hadn't remembered at all but now I do and it all makes sense...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2220
Lots of dreams with the Champix, a longer one I had last night...
I'm with the family, Dad and the kids, somewhere in the mountains of Africa/Canada. We're at a viewpoint, having a picnic, we're here to look at some fossils, trilobites in the shale or something....there are loads of other people. And It's cloudy and getting dark and we run into one group that has some giant quartz crystals they've collected, about an inch thick, perfectly clear, there's a quarry of them right beneath the layer of shale that holds the fossils and I think that it's illegal to collect specimens here, but then I realize that the quartz isn't a fossil and so that's all right and I take my daughter and we head down the trail to collect some quartz for ourselves.
We're cutting through the tourist village (Bavarian style, why not, it's Canada/Africa after all...) and suddenly the sky grows dark. Completely, pitch dark, dark as night, and I look at some of the other tourists beside me and note that "That was sudden, wasn't it?" and they laugh and agree that it was so the daughter and I, we head back to the picnic table.
Now it's night and I'm at at a winebar, Italian, Italy has stuck her boot down here into Canada/Africa, and there's a girl behind the bar that's trying to persuade me to marry her so she can immigrate to Canada and I'm half considering it, I can't see her face and her friends are urging me on....
But they're not getting me a glass of wine and so I protest and she pulls a basket full of glasses forward and pours the wine into it, the wine miraculously doesn't pour through the straws of the basket but bulges through like crystal.
"Surface Tension" they explain, and hand me a straw and I slurp down the wine.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2190
I'm with a group of strangers, nobody that I know.
We're in the basement of an old church, maybe 150 years old, red brick, it's the restaurant, there are candles lit everywhere and the owner is presiding as Maitre D'.
We're empty and there's time enough to perform a play upstairs, and so we run through a warren of passages and up twisting flights of stairs to the main level - "We buy Gold"; it's a pawn shop of some description but it turns into a hobby shop and somewhere behind there's a giant, towering 30 foot costume/puppet monster walking along, it looks like Darth Vader from one side and from the other side it looks like a spaceship, and as he turns his head from side to side lasers are shot from the sidepieces....
It's pretty scary. And I'm running up towards the belfry, the play's been forgotten and instead I'm to help to put away the giant puppet of Darth Vader, hang him from the ceiling and I can't reach it from the floor and so I climb up a ladder..there are bolts from the ceiling where I can hang this, there are others there as well, different things, the owner builds things, then hangs them from the ceiling and I'm hanging the puppet from the center beam now of the church, immediately beneath me on the ladder there's some woman with blood or grenadine upon her hand...
And I climb down and am on the main floor when I look out the window, towards downtown and I can see the sky's an unreal blue, and everyone in the choir turns and looks as well, and it is, and as we look there's a bank of clouds above us, the edges roiling like eddies in a stream, and I can see a big tendril coming down, it looks computer animated, and there's a tornado about to hit the church. we run through the church to hide, and I see people running out the front door, then all the cupboards and doors in the church slam shut and I realize we're about to be lifted away and so I jump out a side door, the church is moving, sliding along, the bricks and siding is being peeled away, it's too heavy and the tornado moves on, the church dragged a few hundred yards away along a field, the sky is infused with an unearthly light....
(Many odd dreams last night, put it down to a late night feast of fast food.)
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1813
The phone rings and I'm swimming.
Swimming within myself, eyes closed, swimming upwards towards my eyes, there's an eternity between rings of the phone, I'm swimming inside my head, upwards, groggy, surfacing - the phone rings again and I'm on my feet - in front of the desk, taking a call, a reservation, a cancellation, a solicitor, I hang up and still inside my head, not a dream but the sensation of swimming within myself, of awakening too soon.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1760
This was the dream before the Christian Slater dream, Oranges and Lemons, the evocation of old streets and memories, rainy streets, the reflection of bright neon in the puddles on the pavement, old buildings, memories of places I haven't yet been, smells, people, romance, my notes of "Oranges and Lemons" were to jog my memory but now they aren't enough and it's lost.