'In the hills of some unknown country, where Zoe and myself have been abducted by a group who bare a passing resemblance to The Shining Path. Their camp, which appears to mix elements of the Slaver stronghold in Fallout 3 and a farmers market, is easy for me to escape from, and I jog down through the hills on an unguarded road which ends in a gate not dissimilar to the one in Jurassic Park. After escaping, I realise that Zoe has not followed me, despite my believing that that had been my original instruction to her. On an opposing hillside, I plan her rescue with a motley crew of carnival freaks. I draw up plans on a picnic table whilst everyone eats and makes excuses as to why they are scared of rescuing her. I go on a reconnoitring mission over the hills nearby, which now resemble Austria. I decide the easiest way in is the way I departed from, but everyone disagrees, unable to understand how a lack of guards is a good thing. Next to the picnic area is a military compound for another army. I notice they are loading a van with weapons before proceeding through a gate. I decide to pretend I am operating the gate and sneak on to the back of the truck to steal the weapons. They turn out to be guitar hero accessories. Actor Geoff Pierson appears in military fatigues, apparently the commander of the facility. He asks me who I am and what I am doing. I say I was trying to steal guns but they turned out to be plastic guitars. He tells me to be more careful in future. Zoe remains unrescued.'
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...
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