I know for a fact that there were at least three dreams, but there's one I just can not remember at the moment, and the two I do remember are a bit blurry, but here goes:
In the first one I was in what could only be described as something that reminds me of a castle, but it was probably "our time", and not the Middle Ages or something. I think I may have been part of a royal family, but we were quite normal. I remember that it was really hot outside and that that the environment was very dry, definitely not Sweden. And for some reason an old class mate of mine was my brother and we were like... the king's children or something. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow he... sort of fell down a well. Except it wasn't a well, it was more of a hatch in the ground and there was this enormous underground space there... and he was hanging from a rope or something. I have no idea why we didn't get him out, but we couldn't. And so we called in MacGyver. Yup. MacGyver. He did his thing and got my, sort of, brother out of the uhhh well-hatch-thingie.
Then I think there was perhaps some kind of segue (which would be the dream I can't remember) into the next one, because I remember me and my mum getting out of the car (her new car, again, I wonder why it keeps appearing in my dreams - I must really like that damn car) in Nässjö, where her parents live. And I'm not sure what happened next but I remember that we were playing a board game or something, and there was something about getting these little creatures around in a circle a number of times. Depending on which creature you had they had to make it around the board a different amount of times. Because they moved at different speeds, though you were still the person moving them around. I can't explain it but they both moved on their own and didn't. All of them were black and left little trails of black goo that vanished after a few seconds. They kind of reminded me of liquorice.
This is all I remember. For once, I really can not figure out what brought these dreams on. There's nothing in them I can relate to anything, really. Except going to my grandparents. Christmas is coming up so I'll be going there with my mum and my brother, but that's it. Anyone want to have a go at this one?
Wednesday 28 November 2007
Tuesday 13 November 2007
The Dream of November 12-13
Well, boys and girls, it's Porcupine Tree tour season. You know what that means? Yup. Loads, and loads of odd, scary and totally weird Porcupine Tree gig-dreams for me. Bus drivers go on strike, blizzards ground all flights to the UK, RyanAir goes bankrupt and we're nuked, band members get sick and postpone all December UK gigs... I tell you, the upcoming trip is going to give me ulcers. Especially since there has been no word on the tickets yet. Fucking seetickets idiots. How hard is it to reply to an e-mail and give an update on the tickets? Do they not have opposable thumbs?
Aaaaanyway. So, I had this dream that was... Well, I have to clear some things up first. This gig was always in a small venue in what looked like this old barn-like place. But the mood kept changing for me. At first it was as if it was just a regular PT gig, and Kit and I were so excited, but there were technical problems. Then the mood shifted and suddenly this was a PT gig like... ten years ago and the band was unknown, getting screwed over by the venue and promoter, and Kit and I did not know each other (although we were the same ages we are now).
Before the gig started, there were hardly any people in the venue, and we talked to Steven for a while up front by the stage. And it was really cool because we weren't nervous in the slightest and just had a really nice conversation with him. We've talked to Steven and the rest of the band several times, and while it's a lot easier now we still do feel reeeaaally nervous, which is why I vividly remember how wonderful this conversation was.
After we'd talked the band played and there were problems or something and they had to take a break. Everyone got frustrated and we weren't sure what was going on. When they came back the mood had changed and it was ten years earlier, the band was different - even though they were still their present day selves and Gavin and Wes were there - and Kit was a total stranger to me. There was this crazy old woman behind me that I talked to, she had no clue who this band was, she just happened to live in the rural area that the gig took place in. It was up north, in a province called Dalarna (sometimes referred to as Dalecarlia in English) - that I've never been to - and in my dream all the people there were cracked. I was the only one who was there for the band, well, Kit probably was too, but at this point I didn't know her.
They took another break, during which more scary people talked to me, and then they came back on. After a few more songs, and a few more problems I suddenly saw SW with this advent calendar thing. And he opened the 24th "door" and read the name of what sounded like a snapsvisa, in quite impressive Swedish pronounciation. Apparently, the fact that this was written in the advent calendar meant that they had to play it. I do not know if they did, I suppose I would have remembered, and then they finished the gig and I got to talk a bit to SW. I said it was such a shame that they'd pulled out that snapsvisa for no good reason. He said that promoters in some countries did that a lot to them and that they had to put up with it. Apparently it was also quite common in Poland. I suggested that next time they should just tell the promoter to fuck off. At this point I think I suggested a couple of fitting phrases in Swedish that could be used for this purpose, and SW had no problem with them, he must've picked up on a lot of Swedish while working with Opeth and Paatos. Then he excused himself and said the band had to leave now, and just before he left I called out to him and told him that the only phrase I knew in Polish might help when Polish promoters tried the same thing. He asked what it was, I told him, and he asked me to repeat it. Clearly his Polish wasn't as good as his Swedish. So I did and he wondered what it meant. I told him that it means "you're a fucking dick". And, this actually IS the only phrase I know how to say in Polish (can't type it though, sorry).
Again, the mood shifted, and now Kit and I were leaving the messed up gig. The mood was so subdued that I think in this alternate-universe-mood the band had said they'd never play in Sweden again. Stupid Sweden.
Aaaaanyway. So, I had this dream that was... Well, I have to clear some things up first. This gig was always in a small venue in what looked like this old barn-like place. But the mood kept changing for me. At first it was as if it was just a regular PT gig, and Kit and I were so excited, but there were technical problems. Then the mood shifted and suddenly this was a PT gig like... ten years ago and the band was unknown, getting screwed over by the venue and promoter, and Kit and I did not know each other (although we were the same ages we are now).
Before the gig started, there were hardly any people in the venue, and we talked to Steven for a while up front by the stage. And it was really cool because we weren't nervous in the slightest and just had a really nice conversation with him. We've talked to Steven and the rest of the band several times, and while it's a lot easier now we still do feel reeeaaally nervous, which is why I vividly remember how wonderful this conversation was.
After we'd talked the band played and there were problems or something and they had to take a break. Everyone got frustrated and we weren't sure what was going on. When they came back the mood had changed and it was ten years earlier, the band was different - even though they were still their present day selves and Gavin and Wes were there - and Kit was a total stranger to me. There was this crazy old woman behind me that I talked to, she had no clue who this band was, she just happened to live in the rural area that the gig took place in. It was up north, in a province called Dalarna (sometimes referred to as Dalecarlia in English) - that I've never been to - and in my dream all the people there were cracked. I was the only one who was there for the band, well, Kit probably was too, but at this point I didn't know her.
They took another break, during which more scary people talked to me, and then they came back on. After a few more songs, and a few more problems I suddenly saw SW with this advent calendar thing. And he opened the 24th "door" and read the name of what sounded like a snapsvisa, in quite impressive Swedish pronounciation. Apparently, the fact that this was written in the advent calendar meant that they had to play it. I do not know if they did, I suppose I would have remembered, and then they finished the gig and I got to talk a bit to SW. I said it was such a shame that they'd pulled out that snapsvisa for no good reason. He said that promoters in some countries did that a lot to them and that they had to put up with it. Apparently it was also quite common in Poland. I suggested that next time they should just tell the promoter to fuck off. At this point I think I suggested a couple of fitting phrases in Swedish that could be used for this purpose, and SW had no problem with them, he must've picked up on a lot of Swedish while working with Opeth and Paatos. Then he excused himself and said the band had to leave now, and just before he left I called out to him and told him that the only phrase I knew in Polish might help when Polish promoters tried the same thing. He asked what it was, I told him, and he asked me to repeat it. Clearly his Polish wasn't as good as his Swedish. So I did and he wondered what it meant. I told him that it means "you're a fucking dick". And, this actually IS the only phrase I know how to say in Polish (can't type it though, sorry).
Again, the mood shifted, and now Kit and I were leaving the messed up gig. The mood was so subdued that I think in this alternate-universe-mood the band had said they'd never play in Sweden again. Stupid Sweden.
Monday 12 November 2007
The Dream of November 8-9
OK, so it's been a few days since I had this dream and I've been at Kit's and seen Riverside & Anekdoten since, but I did try to "go through" this dream inside my head several times to keep the details as clear as possible.
I was in high school, and for some reason it was this really small, all-girl school. In Sweden we have regular schools run by the municipalities and an increasing number of schools that are run privately. They don't cost money (in most cases at least) and they're usually focused on specific types of subjects. My school was one of these, though why it was all-girls I have no idea. In fact, the thought of going to an all-girl school horrifies me beyond belief.
Anyways, we were on a school trip of some sort. I think we might have been putting together some kind of Lucia celebration, but it could've been anything, really. We were in something that looked a lot like a warehouse. I think there was a boy there that I noticed for some reason, there might have been a conversation or something with him, but this part has become too blurry for me to retell. However, I did see two men in their mid-thirties there and at the time I didn't think anything of them. Just two men, one of them was Asian and one was African.
Something happens, I don't know what, or how, but suddenly I find myself in a house. There's a view from my window and I am very unfamiliar with the surroundings, but I know that I've been kidnapped. For some reason they haven't taken my mobile so I dial 112 (the emergency number in Sweden) and it doesn't work properly. I have no idea what's going on at first, but then for some reason I find out that I'm in Sudan and I dial 00 46 112, hoping that the international access code of Sudan is 00 like in most other countries. Apparently it is, at least in my dreamworld. And when someone answers I tell them my name, personal ID number (everyone in Sweden has one) and that I've been kidnapped and I'm in Sudan, but that I was at school in Norrköping (a town I've never lived in) when it happened. The woman on the other line laughs at me. "This is the emergency number for Uppsala!" Then one of us hangs up.
A few days pass by, someone puts a plate of food under my door every now and then and when I wake up one morning I look out of the window and the view is different. I'm in Hong Kong. I call again, and tell them whatever information I might have left out last time and that I've been moved to Hong Kong - anything that might help them find me there. Nothing. No one believes me.
A few more days go by and I look out the window. I'm in the country-side, in what looks like Sweden. And I realise that the room has never changed, even though the view has. From what I understand, they've been drugging me and I've been hallucinating different environments - probably based on the ethnicities of the two men who kidnapped me. And, again, I call for help and I know that in the end they were caught. But I think I managed to escape on my own first (not sure though, I can't remember actually escaping from the house), because I remember seeing this... place somewhere that has been in my dreams before. It looks like a mixture of three different places I've been to in real life. There's a gravel road with houses on the left side of it, and a field on the right. It goes up a slope and turns a bit to the right, past another house, and I think it leads to the house I was held in. But that same place has appeared before in dreams of mine, I'm certain of it. And the weird part is, as I look up towards the end of that road I can hear myself breathe. Drawing fast and heavy breaths, and my heart is always beating very fast.
I think I may have run from something there before. I'm desperately trying to remember in what dream, or dreams, I've been to that place, but it's difficult. Somehow I'm certain that a detailed dream has taken place there, but I think it's been six months, at least, since I had it. Damn. Should've started this blog earlier. (:-P
I was in high school, and for some reason it was this really small, all-girl school. In Sweden we have regular schools run by the municipalities and an increasing number of schools that are run privately. They don't cost money (in most cases at least) and they're usually focused on specific types of subjects. My school was one of these, though why it was all-girls I have no idea. In fact, the thought of going to an all-girl school horrifies me beyond belief.
Anyways, we were on a school trip of some sort. I think we might have been putting together some kind of Lucia celebration, but it could've been anything, really. We were in something that looked a lot like a warehouse. I think there was a boy there that I noticed for some reason, there might have been a conversation or something with him, but this part has become too blurry for me to retell. However, I did see two men in their mid-thirties there and at the time I didn't think anything of them. Just two men, one of them was Asian and one was African.
Something happens, I don't know what, or how, but suddenly I find myself in a house. There's a view from my window and I am very unfamiliar with the surroundings, but I know that I've been kidnapped. For some reason they haven't taken my mobile so I dial 112 (the emergency number in Sweden) and it doesn't work properly. I have no idea what's going on at first, but then for some reason I find out that I'm in Sudan and I dial 00 46 112, hoping that the international access code of Sudan is 00 like in most other countries. Apparently it is, at least in my dreamworld. And when someone answers I tell them my name, personal ID number (everyone in Sweden has one) and that I've been kidnapped and I'm in Sudan, but that I was at school in Norrköping (a town I've never lived in) when it happened. The woman on the other line laughs at me. "This is the emergency number for Uppsala!" Then one of us hangs up.
A few days pass by, someone puts a plate of food under my door every now and then and when I wake up one morning I look out of the window and the view is different. I'm in Hong Kong. I call again, and tell them whatever information I might have left out last time and that I've been moved to Hong Kong - anything that might help them find me there. Nothing. No one believes me.
A few more days go by and I look out the window. I'm in the country-side, in what looks like Sweden. And I realise that the room has never changed, even though the view has. From what I understand, they've been drugging me and I've been hallucinating different environments - probably based on the ethnicities of the two men who kidnapped me. And, again, I call for help and I know that in the end they were caught. But I think I managed to escape on my own first (not sure though, I can't remember actually escaping from the house), because I remember seeing this... place somewhere that has been in my dreams before. It looks like a mixture of three different places I've been to in real life. There's a gravel road with houses on the left side of it, and a field on the right. It goes up a slope and turns a bit to the right, past another house, and I think it leads to the house I was held in. But that same place has appeared before in dreams of mine, I'm certain of it. And the weird part is, as I look up towards the end of that road I can hear myself breathe. Drawing fast and heavy breaths, and my heart is always beating very fast.
I think I may have run from something there before. I'm desperately trying to remember in what dream, or dreams, I've been to that place, but it's difficult. Somehow I'm certain that a detailed dream has taken place there, but I think it's been six months, at least, since I had it. Damn. Should've started this blog earlier. (:-P
Thursday 1 November 2007
The Dream of October 31 - November 1
So, this dream began with me and Kit piloting a commercial airplane. Huge thing, much larger than the RyanAir ones I'm used to. And it was maroon, not sure that matters, but still. Apparently my art class was going somewhere, because both my professors and all the people in my class were on the plane. Why Kit was there, I have no idea. Nor why we were the ones flying the damn thing. The really odd thing (well, ONE of the really odd things) was that we were indoors when we were preparing for takeoff. Like in a long, huge corridor. And we were not on the ground floor of the building, but on the second floor, making this even weirder. The building had a roof that covered it all the way to the end of the landing strip where there was no wall or anything. It was as if someone had just torn off the wall and the building ended there. And still we were supposed to get the plane to take off at the exact end of the runway, otherwise the plane would fall down to the ground when we reached the end. If you know me and Kit at all you will probably have realised by now that that's exactly what happened. And my teachers, my class... They were all yelling att me, telling me I fucked up and that I'd ruined the school trip. The plane was still fine, the ten feet drop had done nothing to damage it, and we were on this road right by a huge lake. There was a bridge across it and I suggested we try to take off from the bridge instead. Again, people yelled at me. This time for my stupid ideas. So I said: "Well, let's just... drive out on the bridge and go to Visingsö!" Visingsö is an island in the middle of Lake Vättern, the second largest lake in Sweden. I grew up in Jönköping, at the southern tip of that lake and I can tell you that there is no bridge to that island. But still, we went on the bridge in our plane.
Now, we've arrived on the island and we're looking around. It would make sense that we'd be going to view art or architecture, but suddenly we were in this huge place that held a whole bunch of smaller buildings inside it. They were fairly large, but not large enough to fit what the doors to them actually claimed they contained. The sets of pretty much every American daytime soap there is + a few more that don't exist, that I just made up. So we start sprinting down the "street" to look at every little house and see which ones are there. After six or seven of them we reached a much smaller one that didn't have the name of a soap on it, but actually the name of an actor. I don't really know his name and I didn't in the dream either, I just knew who he was anyway. The guy who plays "Renegade". That weirdo... outlaw, or whatever he was, from the TV series with the same name. You know, that 80's one where everyone has weird hair. For some reason, I decide that it would be so much fun to kick down his door, and no doubt he would be impressed. Behind me someone, not Kit, is shouting that I shouldn't. But still I do, and the second the door has been kicked down I know it was a mistake and I run. Not far, just to the sofa that's just nearby. There's a table too, and on the other side is a chair with a woman sitting on it. Then there are shouts from the room of the actor and I hear running steps from somewhere else, and more shouting.
"What the hell?!" said the voice from the room.
"It's all right, it was just a mistake!" shouts one of the two men who are running towards the room.
"Who are those girls? Give me one good reason not to shoot them!" says the man who has emerged from the actor's dressing room - only it's not the dude from Renegade, it's someone I've never seen before.
However, the two men who came running are the dude from Renegade and his sidekick, you know, the native American guy with the even goofier hair. And now I realise it's not the actors, but the actual characters.
"That one...", says Renegade, indicating the woman in the chair, "is my wife."
"And the other one...", says the sidekick dude, "is my girlfriend."
Now, I know that what he said saved my life and I ought to be grateful, but still, all I can do is to, very loudly, blurt out: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!!!!!" at the thought of us being a couple.
And then I woke up.
Now, we've arrived on the island and we're looking around. It would make sense that we'd be going to view art or architecture, but suddenly we were in this huge place that held a whole bunch of smaller buildings inside it. They were fairly large, but not large enough to fit what the doors to them actually claimed they contained. The sets of pretty much every American daytime soap there is + a few more that don't exist, that I just made up. So we start sprinting down the "street" to look at every little house and see which ones are there. After six or seven of them we reached a much smaller one that didn't have the name of a soap on it, but actually the name of an actor. I don't really know his name and I didn't in the dream either, I just knew who he was anyway. The guy who plays "Renegade". That weirdo... outlaw, or whatever he was, from the TV series with the same name. You know, that 80's one where everyone has weird hair. For some reason, I decide that it would be so much fun to kick down his door, and no doubt he would be impressed. Behind me someone, not Kit, is shouting that I shouldn't. But still I do, and the second the door has been kicked down I know it was a mistake and I run. Not far, just to the sofa that's just nearby. There's a table too, and on the other side is a chair with a woman sitting on it. Then there are shouts from the room of the actor and I hear running steps from somewhere else, and more shouting.
"What the hell?!" said the voice from the room.
"It's all right, it was just a mistake!" shouts one of the two men who are running towards the room.
"Who are those girls? Give me one good reason not to shoot them!" says the man who has emerged from the actor's dressing room - only it's not the dude from Renegade, it's someone I've never seen before.
However, the two men who came running are the dude from Renegade and his sidekick, you know, the native American guy with the even goofier hair. And now I realise it's not the actors, but the actual characters.
"That one...", says Renegade, indicating the woman in the chair, "is my wife."
"And the other one...", says the sidekick dude, "is my girlfriend."
Now, I know that what he said saved my life and I ought to be grateful, but still, all I can do is to, very loudly, blurt out: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!!!!!" at the thought of us being a couple.
And then I woke up.
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