Squirtings from the Space Goose

Squirtings from the Space Goose

Where do dreams come from?

From the subconscious mind, trying to work through the day’s experiences and emotions? From spirits, angels or demons walking among us, attempting to communicate? From humanity’s collective unconscious, yielding ancient symbols and archetypes in new guises? Or from something much more natural, simple and straight forward – like a giant Space Goose, effusing streams of sensory shadow play into our nocturnal minds?

Relosing control

dreamsPosted by Nick 17 May, 2012 06:07AM

This is a dream from 23 March. It's really long so I'll try to keep the language less elaborate.

I was waking up several times during this dream, but at all times it's a little unclear whether I really woke up or it was a part of the dream. Also, I knew that I was dreaming, or half-knew, during most of the dream.

I was at home, in my current living room. I don't remember that much about this part of the dream. I was going on a holiday and was packing lots of different items. I was stressed and looking for something, a piece of a cell phone, searching through bags.

I woke up in my bedroom, but in my old apartment now. I heard sounds from the living room, probably my mother. I called for her to come in, but she didn't answer. I might have really been half-asleep at this point, really hearing things (having hypnagogic hallucinations). I heard lots of sounds from the apartment, and suddenly the sound of something heavy falling down. I was unsure of whether I was dreaming or awake, or was in my current apartment. Calling out didn't help. I held my ears to shield from the noise.

I checked the cell phone by my bed. If the buttons didn't work or a piece was missing, it must be a dream, I thought. It didn't work, so I knew then I was dreaming.

I was in my old room, standing and looking in the mirror I had on the wall. Around my neck, under the shirt, was a necklace with some trinkets hanging from it. It was very important. I then tried to change my face by willing it so. A girl was there, maybe A (who I used to be great friends with growing up). I grew horns, but they were small. Then fangs; they were needle sharp in front. This was no good, so I started over. Now the corner teeth were fangs, but all my teeth grew like dripping icicles; all uneven. It was very difficult. Suddenly I had bat wings growing out of the top of my head, and I thought this was okay. I wanted bigger horns, but they became uneven and strange. I broke off the bat wings, which turned into a chicken-like bird. It was hurt somehow; I set it free through the window.

I was at work somewhere. (The place didn't resemble any place I've been). I knew nobody there. Then I was flying through the rooms, maybe in an archive room, trying to avoid a flying villain. It was like an anime. He was throwing long pointed sticks like darts. I tried to avoid them like in the show (actually there is no show like this that I've seen), but was hit. The sticks were poisonous, but for some reason I wasn't harmed. I threw some sticks back.

I was walking again, at this workplace. I was tired of it and wanted to leave. I went through a door. The corridor was leading down; it had gray cement walls, like a parking house. It got darker and was very scary and nightmarish. I though that this is the part were I should turn back, but like always in dreams like this, I thought, I wasn't turning back. But then a door in the wall opened. There was some guy who lived there. He seemed annoyed, but allowed me to go through his apartment to get to the outside. He was also going out, so we went together. This guy was blond and tall. I wanted him to like me. We walked somewhat uphill, beside a street with traffic. We crossed where there was a roundabout in the middle of the street. I ran ahead. There was a bus coming, bus 54 going downtown. On the other side of the street we ran back downhill again, towards the bus stop. But it wasn't the bus we wanted. On the side of the street where we had come from, we now saw flashing white lights and something projected on the wall of the building. It was my workplace, and the guy worked at the same place. It was some important event, which we had both ducked out of. We were kind of hiding behind some bushes or a bench.

There was an open area beside the bus stop, a small distance from the street. There were lots of people there, old class mates from junior high. I was trying to remember the trinkets I had seen in an earlier dream (earlier part of this dream), and this made them appear. These were important clues to my actual life! The first one was a key. I thought it was the key to my apartment, but A said it was the key to hers. I gave it to her. I made a list of the items, with three columns: an index number, a drawing of the item, and what it was. First, I wrote "1 <drawing> key." The next few items were made of cheap plastic: There was a clear purple cube, and then maybe a flat square of some clear color. It was difficult cataloging this because of all the chatter and noise around me, and people hanging around. Some guy was sitting on me as I was laying down on my side to write.

At one point I was talking to a girl I used to have a crush on, a friend of two girls named A and M (not the same A as before), who I remember as the two "nice girls" in class. (In reality there was no third girl who was a friend of A and M, and the girl I really had a crush on was someone else.) Later I was talking to some other people, saying I had talked to this girl, but now I couldn't remember her name, which I thought was funny.

Later again, at the same place, but near some hedges, I was trying to remember the last item. It was brown or beige, of an unknown shape, and with engravings. They were the same two letters repeated: ATATATA... But then I realized it only looked like that; it was actually real words, the first being "the". Then the item disappeared. Was it my thumb? I studied it but couldn't find any engravings.

Now I was in my grandfather's room (when he was alive). But it was different. The floor was felt, the colors were orange and purple, and there was strange lighting. The furniture was lined up in the center. I knew I could just lie down there and close my eyes, and I would wake up. The "bed" was just an empty area between the furniture. I lied down and closed my eyes.

I woke up in my current apartment again. I thought, why not dream of a hot celebrity here in bed with me? I didn't really think it would work. I was half-asleep now, and felt beside me, but it was just a pillow. Then I was in my old room again, and I was there with Debrah Farentino. (This was definitely because I've been watching old episodes of Hooperman lately.) The problem was that "I" was not me, but another person. So I was there watching Debrah and this other guy being "me," and I said that I should be me. I then chased him out, which he wasn't pleased about. But Debrah and I were now having a fight, and she left or went somewhere. I called for her. Someone answered, a person in the hall, standing on a stool facing the wall. It was a tall person with sand colored hair, who seemed to have stubble, but I wasn't sure if it was a man or a woman. I tried calling again.

Then I was outside. There were some tiered rows of seats (benches), and Debrah was sitting there with some other people. I was standing beside her. Then she started decomposing, sinking into a pile of rotting vegetable matter. The pile was mostly brown, with insects crawling around in it, but I could still see her face in it. Either she or the other people said I had to pick her up and embrace her. Reluctantly I lifted her up and held her close. She had no arms or legs and was still rotting. I was feeling for insects crawling on my skin. It was summer and a lot of people were around, and it was on Aker Brygge, near the sea in Oslo. I put her down on the pavement and she started to grow, turning back into Debrah. But as she did so she moved artificially and I heard mechanical sounds. Incredulous, I asked in a mocking way, And how long is the guarantee?

Earnestly she called to the side, Keith, what's the guarantee?

Two months, was the reply.

Screw this, I thought, and willed myself to wake up. This worked.



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