Skip to main content

Fourth

This one was set in what I think was a war torn Albanian type place. Again, it had the feel of the conglomerate city that my dreams exist in, but is obviously detached from any semblance of an actual recognisable town owing to the subject, and it being a disjointed and worrying dream...well...no more worrying than they always are. The main feeling I had with this one was that it was part of some larger whole that I have forgotten (similar in tone to the burgerking fairy car crash and flower meadow attack pattern delta dreams that are currently unpublished, and are likely to remain so), as for the majority of the experience I felt seriously fatigued; a profound weariness set into my supposedly youthful bones. The tiger reminded me of a manticore.

'In a compound, behind some kind of electric fence that has huge childlike green and red buttons for controls. Burch (Mete _ Bator) is the leader of our little gang, wearing odd peaked cap and khakis, and sends us out on missions to find food and supplies. I presume an apocalypse. Inside the compound is a small black lake and some high pointy structures like those found in Djenne. Outside is a warren of different coloured walls, all yellow and pink and not dissimilar to the inside of an inflatable laser quest. I am with an unknown companion, a young woman, patrolling an unspecified area when we are attacked by a tiger in some kind of radio station relay outpost. The fight seems to last for ever. I climb on a rock and kick down at it. The tiger seems smaller than I think it should be. I kick it a few times in the face, until it collapses. I climb down and kick it in the side. It turns out to be a soft toy. What kind of apocalyptic future is this?'

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fifteen + Sixteen

Long pause between posts owing to house moving and a lack of internet connection for over six weeks. Most frustrating. The intervening period has however furnished me with some new and skewed meanderings inside the subconscious underworld. The first, as you can guess from the reference to a certain daily newspaper, is from a while ago. The second (a double post to make up for the absence) came from a book I found whilst packing that contains notes on a defunct record label, conversations not appropriate for verbal discussion and occasional nocturnal recollections. 15. A warehouse, not dissimilar to Asda, where everything comes in multicoloured stacked boxes. Most boxes hold copies of The Times. I tell someone that they're not selling because they're not as cool as the new Berliner format Guardian (depressing how sad I am even in dreams). Later, am on an island, a little like the one in Lost. At one point I even ask when Walt is coming back. There are a crack team of commandos a
3 comments
Read more

Seventy Four

  The city has been invaded by some sort of 14th century Shogunesque army. They've taken over the giant bathhouse/restaurant, akin to the one from the film Spirited Away. We attempt to retake it by crossing a bridge, carefully balancing on taught wires [I've been playing a lot of Ghost of Tsushima], but archers lean from upstairs windows: they fire down at us, and I see bodies plunge into the river below. I try and alternative tactic for entry, taking an alleyway behind the building, but before I am able to help I become entranced by the unusual intersecting pipework that criss-crosses the space . Staring dumbly at the patterns, I hear the battle continue in the distance.
Post a Comment
Read more

Sixty Eight

In some sort of wasteland, possibly Malton from urbandead but in reality. The buildings and general lay out of the space appears to be a grid system, dark green, crisscrossing and bisecting the land; it resembles a giant board game. The sky is muted orange, and I have a feeling there is something lurking in the increasing shadows that dusk has introduced. Someone who I am with shows me around their flat. From the window I see abandoned car parks, and in the distance lakes and mountains, though this view is partially obscured by smoke rising from refineries that seem to encircle the town. The light is falling away. No-one is on the street when I am taken to the next house. The view from the window is the other house. Each subsequent place I am shown around offers a view of the preceding property. I am caught in a loop of property viewing, with some unknown menace responsible for the trap I find myself in.
1 comment
Read more