- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1316
I'm lying in bed in a room, the room is in a field, somewhere south of Calgary. By the light I'd say it's autumn or spring. There are only 2 or three walls in this room, they are painted blue with clouds so that they disappear into the horizon, you know they're there by the furniture up against them, there is no ceiling, above is a long thin silver cloud, turning, I'm lying in bed watching.
The cloud turns and on the bottom I see a tornado, just forming, all filled with an unearthly blue light, spinning and growing, it's turning with the cloud, and I call to you so you can come and see, you're in an outhouse somewhere, perhaps a 100 paces from the room, but the cloud turns so that the tornado has disappeared by the time you come.
Maybe it will come again.
So we wait, in bed, and the cloud turns some more, like the wheel of a bike, until finally the tornado appears again, it's beautiful, and somehow the tornado touches down near us, the far end of the room against the cloud painted wall, we watch, and from it appears a beautiful girl, dark hair, eyes, she has been possessed, she's confused, frightened, up against the wall, you approach her, you know her, "It's all right" you tell her, and she comes to her senses.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1417
The boy is climbing up a ladder to the roof. It's a long ladder, steel, he's maybe 30 feet in the air, it's a concrete room, brightly lit and poorly illuminated, feels like it's in a basement or parkade instead of the top floor of an office tower. There's a hole he's climbing through, I'm supposed to be watching or catching him, I climb up after. The hole to the roof is surrounded with torn fiberglass insulation, I'm bringing a little girl, these are not my children, the relationship is coincidental. We get to the roof after him, it's foggy, we can't see to the end of the building, the pebbledash on the tar slopes into a clear puddle of water left on the roof, deep. You can see the pebbles into the water, the girl wants to look into the puddle, you can see all of the little pebbles, grey, black, going down into the water. The boy leaves us, walks up ahead. We wait a couple of minutes then get up to follow, he's disappeared into the mist. We walk along the side of the puddle, there's a heap of pebbledash, and in the stones we see revealed the boys face, mottled blue, a hasty burial, blending into the stones, he's dead - there's nothing we can do. I take the girl and lead her away from this, "Don't Look" I tell her, he was only a minute away from us, what could have happened? We are looking for the place to get back downstairs...
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1427
When I was younger I would practice this, lying down, attempting to astral project myself, beginning with my toes, concentrating on lifting free the feather of my soul from the leaden weight of my body. I would attempt to visit people I knew, seek confirmation of consciousness beyond my brain, sense beyond my senses. In time I had some small successes, I would free myself, then begin to fly, knowing all the while I was dreaming, but controlling it, flying across the world, strange landscapes spread out beneath me, attempting to navigate by force of will alone.
And I would lose control, accelerating rapidly, the landscapes, mountains, cities beneath me turning into a blur, I would begin to panic when it seemed I would go over the edge of the world, when I might not return, and awaken suddenly.
I practiced this, but life makes you busy, you lie down to project and find yourself only falling asleep. I should try this again.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1237
One dream which stands out for the ease of interpretation.
I had finished at a job, with the corporation, it was a disgraceful ending, I had spoken my mind, not really, not even a little but quoted out of context, out of place, I had broken the rules, said something I regretted and was let go.
I had behaved badly. Sure, there were many excuses, overworked, understaffed, permanently stressed with ridiculous deadlines, unattainable targets, and representing hypocritical customer service ambitions.
But I had behaved badly, spoken hastily under stress, and was let go.
And so I went home, both saddened and relieved that this little nightmare was over.
I collect wrist watches, vintage watches, Bulova, Hamilton, Omega, Rolex, any old watches. I have a box full, some are working, some need repair. They are the tangible inheritance I will pass to my children.
When I got home I took a nap. I dreamt my supervisor was breaking into my apartment, the rest of the company was outside waiting for her in a van.
She was breaking in to my apartment, I passed her in the hall as she was carrying out my furniture. She came back again, now to steal my watches. I watched her carrying them out the van, to divide and share with the other employees.
The interpretation was simple - the company had been stealing my watches, my "time" with them was stolen.
When I awoke I saw this, clearly now by way of the dream. And I was less upset.
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1471
I woke up, groggy, barely able to move but I was going to write down this dream, it would only take a minute, I could fall asleep again when I finished.
And I turn on the light, check the clock - must be 3 - 4:00 AM?
It's 7:10 and I'm late, my dream is swiftly evaporating.
There was my mother, somewhere off in a town, shopping, a small old town on a forested mountainside that runs to the sea, overcast, old brick houses and shops. A ferry, I was on it waiting for her, she should hurry or she'll miss it. She missed it.
And N*** - her profile, in 3 paper thin slices, one slice merely a shadow, the other 2 filled with pink polka dots.