Skip to main content

Twelve

This happened during a night of largely restless sleep. The mornings growing lighter, the birds louder, people go to work earlier, all encroaching on my ability to stay in the realm of subconscious meanderings. Still, I recall waking from this confused as to where I was, and then angry at needing to be at work

'I have lost my job, working in a non specified warehouse. Outside are terraced gardens, the feel of an afternoon spent in rural Italy. A bald man is explaining to me why things have to change, and that when he says 'fired' he means 'being transferred to a distant war'. The warehouse is some sort of command ship. A fat man talks about how the enemy is a self replicating virus that mimics human form. As he explains, the whole place goes in to some kind of lock down, with lights flashing and soldiers running. He suggests I get a gun. All that is left are some out-of-date dusted over technologies, which actually prove to work better than the regular equipment. I see people fighting in a series of rooms, but am unsure who is good and who is bad. Instead of aiding in the battle (and I am told via a tannoy announcement that 'we' are losing) I move through more and more offices and command centres. Each one contains people fighting in a variety of strangely coloured costumes. One room reminds me of a film in which the President of the United States is making important decisions in an underground bunker during a war. Alternatively, it looks like Star Trek, when the Enterprise is hit by something and sparks fly from the console(s). I reach an escape hatch. Instead of the cold glimmer of stars in space, I am again in the terraced garden. it is part of a larger complex, though most of the rest of it is faceless corporate buildings. Muffled voices and shouts from behind. I decide to jump from terrace to terrace, in slow motion, looking at my feet as bullets and laser fire hurtles about me.'

Comments

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...

Eighteen

This was probably the first dream I can remember having since moving back to York. It obviously harks back to specific childhood memories, blended with the usual cast of people from when I was younger (except the comedian). Misc sexual references to trains I would assume is related to Hitchcock, but perhaps Zizek is the best judge of that. Lots of symbols to wrap teeth around. 'Wandering through Putteridge Bury. An indistinct beginning, following that much traveled road to the farmhouse and dried up pond. A man spins a sports car on some gravel alongside a barn conversion I am unfamiliar with (I realised when I work up that I did know the barn...odd that whilst asleep my brain wouldn't recognise it). I walk along the track to where the old white house should be, next to the greenhouse my Dad used to own. Instead, just scrub land and some kids jumping on a knackered trampoline. I meander towards what I assume is Great Hayes; there is a long row of portaloos by the roadside. I fi...

Seventy Three

'Michael from season 4 of The Wire is trying to kill me. We drive through an abandoned city, weaving between wrecked cars, firing guns at each other. None of my shots make contact. In a scene reminiscent of the end of Heat, I follow Michael and his accomplice through something which resembles the Holocaust memorial. I shoot at Michael, and as he falls I continue to riddle his body with bullets. Despite there being a lot of blood it becomes apparent relatively early on that this is not Michael but a cardboard cut-out. I have a flashback to a similar incident where my partner was killed and inexplicably replaced my Matt Berry, dressed in a 70s-style outfit. He had a seizure and rolled around in the mud. Back at the memorial and I am pleading for my life and crying.'