The Dream of December 10 (all is well again)

I know there was more than one dream, but all I can remember are little bits of one. I think the general idea was that Kit and I were in a school that looked like a cross between my junior high school and the Zenit building on Linköping University's Campus Valla. We were with these two guys (fictional) and I know I was younger than I am now, probably in my late teens. There was a little something going on between me and Hassan, one of the guys. I'm not sure if we were an actual couple or just flirting, but that's not important.
The main idea, I think, was that we were carrying out some kind of plan to get a lot of money. Like, millions. I don't know if the acquisition of the actual money was illegal or if it was some of the steps along the way that was - but I do know that we weren't the only ones after the money, a whole lot of other people were.
So. Little things I can remember. At one point we were on this stretch of grass in the middle of what looked like South American jungle or something. There was a statue carved from stone and two guys were trying to get the "clue" we needed from it. I know we got it in the end (it was two tennis balls to add to the other two we already had, they had numbers written on them in red marker pen), but I don't know what happened to the two guys who got there first. Probably we just beat them up and took their balls (hee hee).
Then I remember us being back in the area of our school that looked like Zenit, and we were on a bench or something in the corner, hiding our tennis balls. Actually, I was the one hiding them all behind my back, leaning up against the wall - it hurt! Hassan was sitting in front of me and I remember having my legs propped up on either side of him and thinking "fuck, it's been a few days since I shaved them last, I hope he doesn't care", since he was gently stroking them just where the trousers - that had been pulled up a bit from all that extra leg-bending - ended. (how the hell do I remember details like my trousers being pulled back to reveal my calves??)

Then we needed to get a Magnum handgun of some sort, I think. I don't remember how we realised this or acquired it but somehow we did. Then, to throw someone else after the money off their track I was sent to an area with classrooms. I didn't even know who I was looking for, but there would be someone there. Once I got there I only recognised two people. One was Kattis, a girl who I went to junior high and high school with. The other was Lisa - not sure if she's been mentioned before. We were great, great friends for a couple of years, then we hated each other (ahh, the friendships of hormonal 13-year olds) and now we're friendly but not close. Anyway, they were both there and had both - for some reason - had to start their first year over in high school. I guess that puts me in my second year. And I remember thinking that Kattis seemed so young and immature, before remembering that she's three weeks older than I am. I talked a bit to them (both were wearing t-shirts from really cool, fictional music festivals I wanted to go to) but they didn't seem to be the people after the money. Suddenly someone opened my backpack and pulled something out of it. I wheeled around to find a girl with curly, brown hair clutching a toy gun going: "Ha-HA! I got your Magnum!" to which I replied: "HA! It's not real!" and snatched it back and shot at her twice. The gun made some kind of laser-toy-gun sound and she looked so disappointed that it wasn't real.

Now we, apparently, had almost all the info we'd need from the school. But there was heavy security at one door, checking people with a metal detector - which was a bad thing for us since we had a gun. The added security seemed to have something to do with the American students who had appeared and was now being shown around in groups.
One of the guys, for some reason, had to go out the front door with the security while Kit, Hassan and myself could sneak out through the glass door right next to us. We were all very concerned that he'd be caught, but a minute later we reunited outside and all was well. Time for the next phase in the plan!
But I can't tell you what that was, because we never got that far. I remember looking up outside and seeing a giant, bright green zeppelin flying over us. It was heading for an equally green tower-thing that looked just like the zeppelin towers in WoW, where another green zeppelin was already waiting. For some reason I know that one of the zeppelins was going to either Hamburg of Frankfurt (can't remember which). Oh, and the best part was the name of them. They had the name printed across the balloony bit in huge white letters: "Papal..." and I can't remember the second word. But it was a body part! Like "Papal Hand" or "Papal Knee" or something. What a great name for a zeppelin company - and how little sense it makes!

That's the last bit I remember, but I know there was something about old castle ruins somewhere in the country side in the beginning. But since I can't remember what we did there...
Oh, and at some point Kit and I were sitting in armchairs in my grandparents' home and I asked her if she could get me some tea since my knee hurt after all that football I'd played (yes, we all know how much I love to play football. Err...) and she grinned at me and said that her legs were tired too, and told me to get it myself. Hrmpf.

The Nightmare of December 9 (and the reason I'm not going to sleep again until I'm unconscious)

It's... 3:10. I woke up... maybe ten minutes ago and my hands are still shaking so bad I can hardly type. I've just overcome the violent sobs that had me trembling, curled up on the chair. I didn't wake up that way, in fact, at first I wasn't too upset. But it was as if the realisation of what I'd just woke myself from gradually crept up on me (yes, I woke myself out of a dream and in case it ever happens again, I hope I work faster next time).

I'm not entirely sure where it started, I think I dreamt that I woke up, but in order to get the full scope of this dream, let me explain a few things about where I am and what I was doing before I went to sleep.
By the way, it's 3:16 now and my hands aren't shaking anymore. They just feel as if I've been holding something heavy for a long time. It's an improvement.

I live in a typical student room in a hall of residency, or "student corridor" as we call them here. I have a main room, I have a bathroom and a little hallway-type-thing by the door. There are lights on the ceiling in the main room, bathroom and hallway. Then I have one lamp on my nightstand and one by the window, close to the desk (it's the one which might get a temple built in its honour soon). The lightbulbs burn out at an unusually fast rate in this corridor, everyone knows it and I often whine that both the hallway one and the bathroom one have both gone out. Right now, every single light in here is working.
There's also a power switch beneath my desk, to which the window-lamp is connected, as well as the computer stuff. The power switch has an on/off switch that glows orange-y when switched on.
I have a friend called Sandra. While it's been a long time since I spoke with her and an even longer time since I saw her (and I feel terrible about not being better when it comes to keeping in touch with people, and especially her since I miss her) I still consider her a very good friend.
Before I went to bed, which, now that I think about it, was actually just twenty-thirty minutes before I woke up again, I was watching the Gilmore Girls on my computer.


OK, here comes the dream. Every time you see something written in between two ¤ it means that the marked passage in the dream was the way it is in real life too/absolutely true.

I can't swear that I know how the dream started, but I *think* what happened was that I woke up in my dream. And the room was dark, which it is this time of year if I wake up before 9-10 in the morning. It was even a tad darker than it normally is, I could still make out certain shapes, but it was too dark to see properly. I reached out to turn on the lamp next to my bed, it didn't turn on. I assumed it was broken, and had a vague recollection of the one by the window having burned out and me changing the bulb in that one (since I use it more) with the one in the lamp on the nightstand. (Note: This has happened, but the broken bulb has since been replaced)
I get up and walk over to the desk and switch on the lamp by the window - it's not working. Frustrated, I turn on the ceiling light. Not working. I try the one in the hallway, same thing. But since I usually keep the one in the bathroom working I try that one instead. Not working.
Exasperated I head back to the desk, to turn the computer screen on. I can make out very faint, grey shapes of Lauren Graham and Alexis Bledel (the way you sometimes can when a video clip is stopped and it's frozen in the very last second - if you've seen this you know what I mean, if you haven't then just take my word for it because that's how it looked). So I use ALT+TAB to get to the Explorer, knowing that the background is white and it'll give me the best lighting possible. For some reason it's not working. I think that perhaps the video software is in fullscreen mode so I ALT+ENTER to rectify that. It doesn't make any difference, as far as I can tell. The screen is still black with vague grey shapes that no longer clearly resemble the leading actresses from the Gilmore Girls. I wonder what the hell is going on and get down on my knees. Maybe the on/off button on the power switch is jammed half-way or something, and the computer is getting enough power to run, and the screen is getting enough power to run but it's not showing colours clearly and the lamp isn't getting any power. I see that the switch is as it should be but still press down a bit extra on the button in the on-direction, just in case. Nothing changes.
I start to feel more panicky now, and I'm starting to hear voices outside my window. While this is a student neighbourhood and that's not unheard of in the middle of the night these voices... They just don't sound like drunken in-the-middle-of-the-night-in-December-voices but like it's-daytime-in-June-and-we're-all-excited-about-summer-voices. But I don't *quite* figure this out. I just hear the voices and feel a bit frightened at the prospect of it being in the middle of the night and strangers are making noises outside my window while my room is dark and I'm alone.
I manage to locate my mobile, now realising that it might be my eyes that are the problem, rather than the electricity or lights. But I still feel confident that it will be all right, ¤my mother once told me a story of an elderly man in our building who woke up blind one morning and managed to call his son who got him to the hospital where they sorted it out¤.
I can't see the keys on the phone. But I know that ¤there are six keys in the left-hand column. The top one is not important when calling someone in the phone book. The second one is the dial key, which is followed by 1,4,7 and star. I need to press the down-key in the center to get to the phone book, once there I need to press the 4 key to get to the letter G and my brother, Gustav, is the second name in the G folder.¤
I try to dial. And I get through, it connects rather quickly. Imagine my surprise when the voice of a woman who's clearly just been awoken from sleep answers. It's Sandra. I must've hit the 7 key with the letters p,q,r and s instead of the 4.
Crying desperately, I apologise to her for being out of touch for so long, but I try to explain the situation and that I need to get a hold of my family. I hear the voice of a man in the background, wondering what's going on. The last time I spoke to Sandra she was single and living alone so I feel even worse about my lack of communication when he speaks. She mumbles something I can't quite make out, and I realise I couldn't have made much sense because a few seconds later she hangs up on me and clearly she wouldn't do that if she knew I was in trouble.
I try to dial again, and this time the call connects immediately. This is probably the first time in the dream that something isn't absolutely cohesive with reality, or at least the first time I notice it. But I don't think anything about it, because someone answers the phone. I don't recognise the voice and I ask whose phone I've reached. The voice, a much more androgynous voice than my brother's, confirms that it's his phone and I ask where my brother is. The voice says that it is my brother. I'm almost numb with fear at this point and I shout that it sure as hell isn't and that I know my brother's voice and I want to know where he is because I need his help. Then the phone disconnects. I think that maybe, just maybe it's a dream and that I wish I could wake up. Outside, I can hear someone playing an acoustic guitar and people singing along to it, but my room is still as close to pitch black as a room can become but still have faint shadows and shapes in it. I'm hyperventilating and, again, think: This is a dream, and I need to wake up now. I HAVE TO WAKE UP NOW. Desperation kicks in on a whole new level and while I remain standing I jerk my upper body around violently, in an attempt to wake my still, sleeping body up. It worked.


I once had a dream in which someone had lined up all of my closest friends and family, and that person was standing there with a gun and told me to decide which one of them he should kill. If I didn't choose one he'd kill them all.
I've always considered that to be the worst nightmare of my life - and clearly, nothing can top pain and agony such as that, but when I woke up it was still easy to shake those feelings because it was so obviously a dream.
This one... I was using logic throughout it. Everything was as it is in real life. I remember stepping over a suitcase that's really there, I was watching the same show I'd been watching before I went to bed, I did exactly what I'd do if I woke up in the middle of the night and for some reason had trouble seeing. When I woke up my first thought was "It WAS a dream" and I hugged one of my pillows, taking deep breaths as the close-to-life-aspects of it started to sink in. Then I started getting upset. And my first thought was to get to my computer, to turn on that screen, see that white background of Explorer and talk to my brother on MSN (knowing that he'd probably be online). And I got to turn the lamp by the window on. And once these reassurances that all was as it was supposed to be hit me I just started trembling and crying even worse. One hour later and I still feel weak just thinking about it.
I'm trying to find the silver lining. I woke myself up from a dream, I don't think I've ever done that before. But even as I started throwing my upper body around like a rag doll I still wasn't convinced it really was a dream, and I can still feel a small remnant of that desperation. It's very, very frightening. Just that little bit. I'd rather not have to relive the full force of that desperation again.

Fuck. I need tea. Or whisky. I might let you know which one I opted for in the next installment of this blog. If I ever do decide to sleep again.

The Dream of November 28

Right. A bit of background information on this one:
I was about to head to bed shortly before four. Which, as it happened, was the time a bunch of really loud, and I mean REALLY LOUD, students decided that shouting and pounding on things that make noise was the way they wanted to spend the next two hours. Not particularly sleep-inducive and this was the first time I ever considered phoning the police on some of my fellow students. I didn't, though.
However, at some point I did fall asleep and I think I got about two hours out of it. Plenty of time for a dream, here we go:
I'm walking along this street in what appears to be the center of a reasonably-sized English town. It all looks very English, anyway. With me are Kit (who just last night accused me of not liking her anymore since she hasn't been featured in a dream for ages - well, here you are, Kit!), Julian (Kit's boyfriend, not sure if he's been in one before) and Louise. But not Louise from Norwich (which would have made more sense as we were on our way to a gig) - it was Louise from Jönköping.
Aaaaand... I'm pregnant (it's been a while since the last time, so I guess all is in order)! Not very though, like... 4-5 months into it. We're on our way to queue up for a gig by an unknown band, and across a big parking lot is the start of the queue. No one's there yet and it's a fairly warm day and the particular spot where it starts is in the shade, so I'm hurrying along to get there before someone else does. I'm feeling a bit... bloated by the pregnancy and start to complain about pregnancy stuff to Louise who agrees and gives me hints. Either she's pregnant too or has a kid in this dream, I guess. When we finally reach the queue point it's suddenly further up the street, in the sun, and there's one girl waiting there already. We hang around for a while before I decide to head across the street, to the Starbucks. The sun is causing me discomfort and I want an ice cold frappucino (with absolutely no trace of coffee in it) to keep cool. As soon as I decide to, the traffic becomes crazy, it's a small street but somehow people manage to drive like... nothing I've ever seen, all over the street, switching to the wrong sides, stopping for no reason and all kinds of things. When, finally, one car drives like a normal person, I watch it as it passes me and see that - you're not goin to believe this - there's a man sticking through it. Yes. Through it. As if the car backed into him at a violent speed and his head burrowed through the glass - without breaking it - and his body became stuck haflway through. Now his legs are sticking out and I can see that he's wearing those bright orange trousers that people working along the roads wear sometimes. After this, a few more cars pass by before I can cross the street. When I get there I can't find the entrance to Starbucks, but a group of three girly girls who're talking about coffee walk into a linen shop and I follow. Apparently you're supposed to walk up the stairs inside to get to Starbucks. But a woman in a green apron stops me before I manage it and informs me I can order from her. Not sure why I'm stopped, but I wildly stared around for a menu, knowing the frappucinos change every now and then and that it's been a while since I was there last. She gives me one and I locate a drink, but then I suddenly decide I want ice cream too (which apparently they have now). I'm struggling to choose and she hands me the phone on which she's talking to the person who's supposed to make me my frappucino - and that woman sounds annoyed at having to wait.
Now, I'm in a proper Starbucks (or, at least there are now tables and sofas and armchairs behind me, even if there's no proper counter), and the annoyed woman is standing in front of me. Apparently I'm not there alone anymore. John (my Frost*ie friend, for those not in the know) is standing next to me, patiently waiting for me to make my decision (much more patiently than the woman taking my order). I've finally located the ice cream and they've got some sort of "series" of ice creams to do with ice cream through the ages. For some reason one of them's named "IKEA" and feeling my forehead sweat under the stare of the annoyed Starbucks-employee I decide to go for that one. Even though I've no idea if that's the kind of ice cream I want.
John and I sit down for a bit and the woman returns with my order, saying something like "it's so late now that you won't have time to finish it here". I look around, confusedly, and there's a girl at the next table (another employee, probably on a break) who says I shouldn't listen to her, that she's just in a bad mood. Peering out through the window I can see that the line has grown now. Louise is no longer there, but Kit and Julian are being their normal selves; Kit is climbing Julian like a tree (I don't know if I've actually seen her do that, but it wouldn't surprise me if she did). She sort of falls over his shoulder and he catches her and puts her down on the ground again. Both of them are giggling. I point them out to John, who says: "So that's Kit? She looks really cuddly". I've no idea if one's supposed to describe people as looking cuddly, but it's a description that fits her really well.
I guess we keep talking a while longer, but I can't remember what we say after that. Then I wake up.

Who the hell would name an ice cream IKEA?

The Nightmares of November 27

I was on a street, a regular little street with houses on both sides. It was dark and fairly cold, but not winter. A little girl, no older than seven, is walking towards me in the distance. She's got blond hair in pig tails, and walking alongside her is a white goat. I'm immediately cautious, as I recognise this. It might be that I've dreamed it before or that I just think I've been in that situation before in my dream. As she approaches I'm utterly terrified, but not letting it show. I ask her what she's doing out here - I can't remember if she replied. For some reason I grab the goat with one arm and decide to try to get them both home to where they're supposed to be but I wake up.

I've forgotten some details of it, I know there was more interaction between me and the girl. And I realise it doesn't sound like a nightmare, but it was indeed frightening.


Next dream.
I'm walking along what seems to be a dirt road in the country somewhere, there's a dense forest on the left side of me and there's a clearing, with just a few trees on the other - but further up and down the road there are forests on that side too. I don't know if I'm scared as soon as the dream starts. Probably. Suddenly I hear absolutely frantic barking from my left and fear grips me as I see a large german shepherd bolting out from between the trees. Normally I'm not afraid of dogs, but if one is barking as if rabid and going straight for me I'm not as inclined to act warm and welcoming. Just as it's about to jump at me (or so I think), it changes direction ever so slightly and runs past me, stopping right next to me, and starts to bark at something on the other side of the road. Two wolves. They don't appear to be ready to attack, at least not when I spot them, the dog might have scared them. From what I know of wolves they're not likely to attack you, but since I've never seen them in the wild I'm still very much frightened as I feel the warmth of my canine rescuer against my legs and try to remember if I'm supposed to try to scare them off by making noise or if that's what you should do with bears. Terrified, I don't move and hope that the confused-looking wolves will back off. Then I wake up.


Next dream.
There's supposed to be a sequel to a very violent film (dream-fictional, not real) opening soon and I'm talking to Beppo about seeing it (we saw the original and loved it so we decided to go together to the new one when it would be released). But now he's saying that he never liked the first one - it was far too emo for his taste - but he's going to go see it with his girlfriend just because she wants to. I think I yell at him for forgetting it.
Then the dream shifts and I'm at a computer in a bedroom. Suddenly I'm aware that I'm inside the first film. And I "know" that I survived the film the first time I was in it because I happened to be out when the crazy, violent and very disturbed killer arrived to kill everyone in the house and he didn't know who was supposed to be there, other than the one girl I think it was his "mission" to kill. So I get up from my chair, deciding to leave now and stay out until it's dark outside as I know he came during the day - even if I don't know which day.
But as I'm tying my shoes by the door I can hear shouts from outside and I immediately run into the bedroom that's right behind me. Through the crack of the door I can see a hand grab the hair of the blond girl (apparently they're popular in my nightmares) and I don't need to see more to know that she's getting decapitated or worse. I get on the bed and draw the covers up, hiding underneath, pretending to be... I don't even know if I'm shooting for dead or sleeping. Sleeping probably. I don't dare to move at all and I'm suddenly aware that he's in the room. I'm laying there with my mouth slightly open and realise that I'm beginning to drool out of the right corner of my mouth (yes, it's a lovely image, isn't it?) when the covers are pulled off me. For some reason, despite pretending to sleep, I'm staring at the ceiling and I can see the killer standing next to the bed. He's looking at me, not doing anything. I want to close my eyes, I don't want to see what he's going to do to me, but I don't dare to and he just stands there for a moment. Then he moves the odd-looking weapon he's carrying (it looks like a sword you "fold out" of a metal contraption of some sort. Ideal for the man who can't decide whether to slice his victims to death or bludgeon them) from his left hand to his right. And lowers his left hand towards my face. He's holding out his index finger and with it he, slowly, wipes the saliva off my face. Then he lifts his hand back up, still moving very slowly, then puts his finger in his mouth, and - still slowly - pulls his finger out of his mouth again, creating sort of a "popping noise" as the tip of it leaves his lips. Then he takes out a knife from a holster and I all I can do is watch as he holds it out over my body. But then he sets the other weapon down on the floor, holds out his right arm, and cuts himself. At this point I'm so surprised and confused that I think I make a faint noise, almost like a squeal I've tried to suppress. He shifts his gaze momentarily from his arm to my face, as if to check to see what I'm doing, then he looks back again. Blood is starting to run down his arm and drip onto my shirt. Then he tips his arm down, angling it towards my face and the blood starts running down it, towards his outstretched finger. It drips into my mouth and after ten, or so, drops have landed on my tongue he backs away, pulls down his sleeve, picks up his weapon and leaves.
And then I wake up (and decide that I'm done with sleeping for now).

The Dream of November 22

I've been dreaming a lot lately, or rather, dreaming things that have been memorable enough for me to hang on to some details as I wake up. This, along with the fact that my entire body has been aching for the last few days, suggest that I've got a virus or something.
Oh, well, let's get down to business right away, shall we?

The first few parts of this dream are shorter "scenes" and I may not be remembering them in chronological order, but they feel as if they belong to the same dream somehow.
In the first part of the dream I'm outside this house with a group of people. I don't see myself as being younger than I am, but it feels like a school trip and next to me is a girl I haven't seen for something like ten years. I'm fairly sure I've actually dreamed about her, and mentioner her, before, her name is Nina.
The house looks like a small cottage, really, but the front door is open and peering inside I can see that the house is large and that the room I know we're going to in a bit is huge. We're receiving instructions about what to do when we get inside, and how we're getting inside. Everyone's supposed to walk in twos and there are some rules concerning what colour clothing we should be wearing. Some pairs have to be dressed completely in blue - not like a uniform or anything, just any clothes of any blue kind - and I know there are two (possibly three) other colours represented too, but I can't remember which ones they were. Then there's the other group, where there's no rule for the colours of the clothing, and that's the one Nina and I belong to. But it still feels like the clothes we're wearing have been selected on purpose by someone else. I'm struggling to remember the sequence in which we were all sent inside, but I have a hazy memory of being sent inside, and waiting for a moment before proceeding to the room furthes in and being seated on a bench or something by the wall on the opposite side of the entrance. It's decorated much like a sitting room of an old cottage, so that part seems somewhat consistent.
I remember there being teachers there too, one of them may have been one of my computer teachers from high school. For some reason, I am unwell. I can't say what it is, but it's as if they spot me being about to fall to the floor because I have a distinct memory of a rather beautiful, heavy-set woman sitting down next to me and me resting my head against her lap while she strokes my hair and she and the other teacher scold me for not taking care of myself properly. Apparently, I'm very sick. How I do not know. Maybe everyone there is.

My next memory is still a collection of friends together in one place as if on a trip, but the ones I remember this time are from my uni. Beppo is there, I think, but we don't talk to each other. Jonas is the one I have conversations with. We're no longer in the cottage, I'm no longer ill, but it still feels as if it's the same exact location as before. This time it's more of a warehouse than anything. We're talking about something and I make some kind of comment about him and living in a proper house rather than a flat. I think there's a sort of socialist/communist edge to it, as if it's bad to live in a house because that's too posh and he's too much of a "leftist" to want to do so. But it's clearly some kind of joke because he laughs and says "Yeah, becaus it's not as if I actually live in a house back home". For the record; I have no idea if he lives in a flat or house back home.
Then a teacher arrives. This time I can't quite put a face to him, even if it feels like the same computer teacher as before but somehow morphed with one of my art teachers from uni. He's saying something about installing a door to campus. One of those big silvery ones that really large garages have and we're all a bit confused. We want to know where on campus it will be and he tells us it'll be on "our end of it" and not the other side and we want to know if they're going to close off the old doors then so that we all have to use this new door, and he says "no, it's just a new door". I think we approve of it.

Then the dream shifts. I'm on a bus going back home. This time I'm carrying bags with vinyls and CDs in them, and I feel tired, and I know it's reeeally late - or really early, depending on how you look at it. I'm now with my friend Louise (Not Lovely Louise from Norwich, but the girl I've known since I was twelve), which in itself is odd as we don't really go to gigs and things together. Perhaps it should have been Kit, but since we were on a bus in some strange version of Jönköping I guess Louise just fit in better. We're at the back of the bus and a man gets on. He reminds me of Patric, but I don't know why. The only apparent things they have in common is that he too seems to be in his early forties and he's got luggage and some vinyl bags too (Patric buys a lot of vinyl, he knows quality music!). This man has very short hair and wears glasses, and he heads for the back of the bus where Louise and I are seated. Looking around me to see how much room there is I realise that I've got quite a bit of luggage, almost as if we're on our way back from the Burg-Herzberg festival or something. I move some of it aside, to allow the man to sit down. As he does I make a comment about a band I know I've just seen, and then I remember that I met this man wherever we were going back from and that we talked about or saw the band in question live. But I'm afraid he won't remember me. He does. And we start talking.
It gets odd here, because it's still the same trip home, but every now and then a few seconds or a few minutes disappear, and it happens a few times more from here on in. I'm going to write [break] to illustrate when this happens. It's a bit like watching a film that's got some parts missing.
[break] We're now at the bus stop by the school where Louise and I first met ("junior high school" or whatever one wishes to call it, grades 7-9) and the side of the road we're on suggests that we had been on our way to Öxnehaga (the area in Jönköping where I spent nine years of my childhood, and Louise still lived when we went to school together) before getting off the bus. We're discussing which bus I'm to change to in order to get home. She says something about no 34 (which as far as I know does not exist and definitely does not run there) and as we're talking I'm moving around a bit, restlessly, like I often do when waiting for a bus. I'm out in the street but suddenly become aware of a bus coming at me at full speed and I hurry onto the sidewalk. I can hear the breaks squeak as the bus stops, but for some reason it stops on the wrong side of the road. Then, another bus comes along, from the other direction, also at full speed, and this one seems to be headed right for us, almost as if it's trying to run us down, but at the last second it turns as to not hit us and the driver slams on the breaks. This one's also on the wrong side of the road.
[break] The drivers and one more man are now outside their buses, talking loudly and cheerfully about a party they're going to or something, not paying any attention to us despite the lateness of the hour Then they get back on their buses. I think one of them is the one I'm supposed to take but both Louise and I are too scared to get on the buses. The man from before is nowhere to be seen.
[break]
I'm on a bus heading into the center of town again, and for some reason I don't know exactly where it's going, I only know it's heading in the wrong direction and I try to find a good place to change to another bus, only I don't know if any other buses are running at this point. Then we pass a bus stop that has one of those big electronic "counter" thingies that lets you know how many minutes there are until the next bus leaves and I see that the next one runs past my house and that the morning buses are already running. I quickly get off the one I'm on, it stops inside some sort of building and there are doors to get on to the platform (much like some tube stops have a wall in front of the tracks and the driver has to stop the train so that the doors of the train are in the same place as the doors of the wall on the platform - same thing here, for some reason) and I wave to the driver before leaving the bus.

And then I woke up. I should've gone back to sleep but found my head too full of memories from this dream and I just had to write it down. A long one this time, I hope that there's SOMEONE who can get through the whole damn thing.

The Dream of my not so short nap of November 20

I really don't remember much, just fragments from some of the various dreams I had. Honestly, I think I was too exhausted to remember anything as I didn't sleep last night. I'd set my alarm to 5 o'clock, and when I woke up it was a quarter to 8, so clearly, I must've woken up at some point and turned the alarm off. Well, actually, no, I just remembered that for some reason my phone was in the inbox for texts-thingie and that would suggest that a clumsy, sleeping girl tried to shut it up at some point.


Oddly enough, I think I visited The Netherlands with my mum for a gig in my sleep today. She's been appearing in a lot of my dreams lately, I wonder why that is?
Anyways, we were supposed to get to the UK from there and we had tickets for... some kind of transport, I sort of see what they look like but as strange as it may sound I can not for the life of me determine if they're boats or buses. I think maybe boats? Some kind of strange canals seem to run between wherever we are and wherever we're going. It looks nothing like any place I've seen before. Everything seems to be indoors, despite being outside, I definitely get the feeling that I'm under a giant roof of some kind. And there are floors everywhere and odd little houses shaped like boxes, and everything's very impersonal where I am. There are ramps by these canals and different levels and we soon realise that we're on the wrong one and we start running to get to where we're supposed to be, but we miss our boat/bus/whatever and we have to go somewhere else to find another one and we run through this place that's a lot darker. I get the feeling that the giant roof that's covering everything is a lot lower and, somehow, darker than the other one. The houses here are more personal and seem furnished and they have a lot more windows, and bigger windows. It's clearly a posh neighbourhood and despite the furnishing and the obvious fact that people live here it still feels empty, deserted and there's almost a sense of dread in the air.
I think we eventually get to another transport that's gets us close to where we're going even if it's not the exact place we were looking for.


I had a dream where I recall that I... kept my faith in someone who was either accused of something or looked down on by others, it's really fuzzy now though. There's something about innocence, like this is a young girl or something, perhaps. I'm not sure about this one, it's like I can almost see and remember what it was about but it's juuust out of reach. So you just get the hazy "feelings" of it, rather than something with substance. Just call me Derek Acorah. No, please don't. Unlike him, my dreams aren't fake.


Then I have this recollection of letters and signs flashing before my eyes, like a code or something. Maybe it was a formula for something scientists have been working on for years. But I hope not, since I can't remember what it was. Another odd detail is that I do believe I was involved in some serious kissing when this happened. I *think* I remember who the other person was, but I'm not one to dream-kiss and tell.

The Dream of my short nap of November 19

There were actually at least two dreams (at least), but I've already forgotten most of the first one. What I can tell you is that I was in a world not too dissimilar from the World of Warcraft one where I encountered some kind of boss who bore the resemblance of one of the actors on Desperate Housewives (it's a guilty pleasure, I don't listen to any boy bands or anything, so i get to watch a few bad shows on the telly), but something happened in-game and he completely changed his appearance. This time to something more like what you'd expect from a boss in a computer game.
Suddenly, I guess I was outside the game and the game was no longer a game but that television show we don't need to mention the name of again. I was on the phone with my mum and I mentioned that he'd changed appearances and asked if she thought that actor would still be on the show. She said no, and I said something along the lines of "too bad, I quite liked him".

Then I don't remember any more from that dream, but I did wake up and walk to my desk to do something, I think I got a text or something. Anyway, I know I was awake and that I wasn't wearing my glasses. You'll know why that's important in a bit.

Next dream. I'm in Chicago. I think I'm in Grant Park, where Obama held his speech after the election, I've never been to that particular park, but after the awesomeness that was the three King Crimson gigs Kit and I went to there in August, I'm somewhat familiar with the city itself. I'm there with some fictional friends and the first thing I'm aware of is that I complain that I didn't want to go to "this thing". Clearly, they ask me why I came then, since I'm not one to do things just because my friends are doing them. I said that I only went because I love Chicago. Which is true enough. So what exactly are we doing? We're going to some kind of a launch for an Apple product. And the place is full of Apple "enthusiasts" (I use that word instead of "OMGOMGOMG FANBOYS AND FANGIRLS", which is the expression I'd prefer to use). It was just scary. Steve Jobs is on a huge stage holding up this thing that looks like a little video camera but according to him is "so much more than a video camera". And the crowd is what you'd expect from a really, really psychotic, religious cult. So, just your typical mac-users.
The launch thing ends and for some reason the security guards are supposed to escort Jobs through the crowd to the other side of the park thing. And I manage to get in their way or really close to them no matter where I move. When we're at the exit at the back of the park I suddenly realise that I've lost my glasses and I can't see anything. I start looking around for them, and since this is a dream I spot them from about ten metres away (whereas normally, one metre would make it challenging). Only, as I approach I begin to realize that these aren't my glasses, but a really odd pair. I'm so disappointed that I can't remember the shape of the frames, because I do remember that they looked really cool. I find a female guard who's also wearing glasses and I've no idea why, but I ask her if they're hers. They aren't (d'uh). Then I ask if they might belong to Jobs (despite knowing that he was wearing a different pair as he left the park just before. Note that I have no idea what he looks like of if he wears glasses IRL), and I don't remember what she says, but I do remember that, again, Jobs turns up just where I am, still escorted by five huge security guards. He's wearing his glasses. And then I wake up.

So, clearly the not seeing thing stems from waking up and walking around my room without my glasses on. The Apple thing probably relates to a PM conversation I've been having with a new-found friend on the Frost* forum, who made a point of telling me that his phone is not an iPhone (and I hadn't even asked!). Clearly, my respect for him inreased when he said that.
I'm running out of cheese now so I must hurry to the shop and buy a new piece. A piece of cheese? That doesn't sound right. Might have to get me some chocolate fingers too... I really shouldn't though, the scale was mean to me today again. Argh, enough of this, off I go.

The (still sick) Dream of November 12

Well, actually, there were several. I only remember a very little from one and then most of the last one. The reason there are several is that I kept waking up. At first I woke up around nine when someone called me from a magazine called Vi Föräldrar (literally: We Parents) and said something about me having signed up for something on pampers.se (either some kind of contest or... I have no idea, I was still half asleep) and then I said something along the lines of "errr, no?". The way she paused after saying that stuff about me signing up and the off-handed way in which she explained my lack of knowledge about the whole thing as some kind of mix-up makes me think she was full of it and just needed an excuse for openly violating the don't-call-me-if-your-selling-something-protection-thing I signed up for a year ago. Basically, companies selling things can not contact me unless I've made business with them in the past. There are some ways to get around that, however, and I think this was one of them. So, instead of apologising for bothering me when clearly I had not signed up for anything to do with pampers or parenting she giggled and started telling me about their "great offer" for getting seven issues of their magazine. Idiot. If I haven't signed up for something on website dedicated solely to NAPPIES; maybe, just, MAYBE I don't want to subscribe to a magazine about parenting?
Somehow, despite feeling feverish and despite the throbbing pain in my hip and the back of my neck/shoulder (as I hadn't taken a pain killer for seven hours) and despite being awoken at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning (hey, I'm a student with no classes, I sleep in) I manage to croak "no thanks, I'm not interested" and refrain from (politely) asking her to sod off. And I had trouble going back to sleep for some reason. But when I did...

...I dreamt that I was on a train, having a swordfight with someone (not a real one, just playing around. I even suspect we may have been using baguettes rather than fake swords) and we fell off, and had to start walking along the tracks. Then we ate these really odd, very thick crisps with some kind of brownish spice on them. I can't remember who the other person was, but I don't think it's unlikely that it was Kit, seeing as how we were fighting with baguettes and all.

Then my alarm clock went off and I decided that I deserverd two more hours of sleep.
This time I dreamt that I was a witch in some kind of version of the Harry Potter universe. And for whatever reason I decided to get my Muggle mum (who was my real mum) some candy from Diagon Alley. Except, you don't access Diagon Alley from a secret entrance in London, you get on the Stockholm underground (or it might have been the London one with REALLY upgraded trains) and the Diagon Alley one runs rapidly upwards in a spiral of some sort and there weren't any walls, just air and infinity around it. You couldn't even see the ground below. And for whatever reason this police officer decided to chase down one of the trains in his car (he's actually a character from a series of Swedish books made into films, and this was the most recent film version of the character) and at this point I was seeing this as if in a film, or just floating around in the air, I wasn't in my own body. Suddenly, he's no longer in his car (which, by the way had been driving on the tracks) but in a train of his own, but he was going too fast and the train derailed. So it flew off into air and all the wizards and witches had to cast spells to get him down safely. I don't know what happened to him after that, but I was back to my own self and I was in Diagon Alley. Except it wasn't a street, but a platform by the tracks with some candy stands and things. I bought my candy and went my merry way.
Next thing I know my brother has picked me up and we're supposed to go home. In his car... except it was no longer a car but an airplane. And suddenly we're plummeting to the ground. We crash somewhere that looks an awful lot like the Hellfire Peninsula area in World of Warcraft (yeah, yeah, I know the level of nerdery required to dream about both HP and WoW in one dream - you're just lucky that there's no Van der Graaf Generator and Formula 1 in here to make the whole thing complete). The crash was fairly soft though and it's a car again. I'm in the backseat and I've hurt my knees a bit on the seat in front of me, but escape fairly unscathed, by brother is fine and most importantly: the bag of magic candy for my mum survived.

And then I woke up.

The Dream of the "being-sick sleep" of November 9

The dream started with my grandfather being ill and in the hospital. At least I think he was the first one to fall ill. Me and my mother were visiting him and I'm fairly certain that my brother, his girlfriend and their dog (Yup!) were there too. Some kind of nurse or nurse's aid came to pick up my grandfather in a wheelchair to take him to radiology. I remember that I thought it was an interesting choice of nurse as he was this really tall, wide-shouldered man in his late 50s and looked more as if he were about to do a mob-hit than transport my grandfather to get X-rays taken. I walked with them part of the way and then they turned left and I said goodbye. Another nurse came by and, for some reason, asked me where my grandfather was going. I told her and she replied:
"But... radiology is that way?" and pointed to the corridor to the right. For some reason this scared me, as if I'd somehow been afraid that someone was going to kidnap my grandfather and I told my mother who didn't share my fears but at least was concerned enough that we go down to the ground floor and look for the nurse who'd taken him in the computer system, arguing that a man in that age group shouldn't be hard to find.
My brother and his girlfriend and their dog had now joined us out in the hospital corridor and the dog had lain down on the floor, on his side, not looking well. It seemed we knew he was about to get sick (there was also a discussion concerning whether it was dangerous for the dog to be on the floor like that in case someone came by pushing a wheelchair or bed without seeing him) and they decided to take him to the vet and my brother and his girlfriend disappeared with their dog.
My mum and I went down to the ground floor, which bore an eery similarity to one of the entrances to the shopping centre in my hometown. There was a computer to search for employees of the hospital there and it reminded me of a cash point machine. My mum was looking for the nurse while I was just looking around at all the cafés and people everywhere. A lot of con artists were selling things and causing trouble and there was an escalator dividing the ground floor into two different levels. Once you went up it you were free of the various con artsits and weird people and it looked more like a proper hospital up there. But now we were on the lower level and my mum said she couldn't find him. I went over to help her, but couldn't find anything either. There was a table and some chairs right next to the computer and we sat down to think about it for a moment. Some mid-twenties guy sat down too and he was smiling at me in a very creepy way. Then he put on the world's largest head set and started commentating a sports event. I'm not joking, he was saying something along the lines of: "Here I am at Hovet in Stockholm, looking down on the..." I remember thinking that he was either commentating tennis or the ridiculous, Swedish sport that is "floorball", I'm not sure why I knew it was one of those two sports.
We decided to head back upstairs, to look for my brother (who my mother now feared was getting ill, clearly it was a bad day to be a member, or pet, of our family). The right escalator was broken but I got on it anyway and started walking up. Then I saw my mother ride by on the one next to me, which they'd apparently switched on to compensate. But I only got half-way before some scary bloke grabbed me and lifted me up and held me, with the help of his friends, saying something about me not walking on the escalator. I think it was somehow moving now, because I remember thinking that I was afraid there'd be an accident if he kept holding me in that tight grip as the escalator was running. I kicked, and screamed, and after a while a girl came running down the escalator with her mobile. She shouted something about taking a picture of the guy holding me for the police and he threatened her, saying bad things would happen if she did, but she still took the picture and he let me go. She and I ran back up the escalator and she offered to send the picture to my phone. I gave her my brother's number since my phone can not accept pictures (which is true, actually, so there was some semblance to reality), hoping I'd find him before she sent it so that I could explain what it was in case he decided to erase the picture some stranger sent him.
But now I'd lost my mother, she was nowhere to be found and I started looking for her. But somehow, I decided to go to this... teenage village-type place where a girl I knew from my choir lived (except she wasn't in my choir in the dream, and she was a few years younger than she really is). I remember getting off the bus in this little area outside of town. It looked quite nice and peaceful when you hopped of the bus, and there was a little patch of trees just by the road. I saw a deer in there and pointed it out to the woman waiting for another bus. She said something about that being very unusual in those parts and I said that I saw a lot more deer and wildlife there than I did in my hometown. She was surprised at that and I told her not to be as I was from Jönköping. For some reason she said she'd figured out by my accent that I was from there, which was strange since I don't have that much of an accent and most people can't recognise the accent from my town anyway.
I started walking, but instead of following a road I went towards the patch of trees and went through them, and around a paddock and suddenly found myself in an area made up of tents. But it wasn't your typical camping tents it was the overhead kind they use a festivals and things to sell food from. And these teenagers had divided different tasks between them and were making food and serving beverages in from these different tents. It was really like walking down a street but still being inside a tent. Just before I'd entered the "tent street" I'd felt a bit of rain and when I reached the end of it, it was pouring down like you wouldn't believe, but just as I was about to exit it stopped and I pointed out how weird that was to some of the teenagers around me. Then I left the tent street and now I was on a, sort of, larger "street" that was pretty much just a long stretch of mud with a lot of tents and caravans on either side. I remember finding the girl I was looking for, but I have no idea why I was looking for her and then I woke up.

All in all, a very pointless dream, but since I remembered it so vividly when I woke up I decided to write it down. This is what happens when you go to sleep in the middle of the day when you're sick, kids! Beware!

The Dreams of August 26-27

The first of these dreams was a bit boring, but for some reason I was in a group of people trying to keep alive and going from place to place where I, secretly, kept sending zip-files of pictures of famous paintings to my art history teachers at uni. Not a big head-scratcher as I've been in the process of finding out if I can enter a new course this semester.

Then the interesting dream kicked off, the one in which I was down at the E4 motorway and something like 15 square meters of it collapsed and we who were there had to get people out. The first thing I remember was seeing all these cars having been half-buried in dirt and dust and the guy next to me, who for some reason had a pick-up truck with a canoe on it, starting to prod the vehicle closest to us with a paddle. I'm not sure why, it's not as if he was trying to break a window to get in and it didn't make any sense to be "knocking" with the paddle either.
But we were getting people out after a few minutes and it was pretty basic rescue work, really. But then, I went up the slope to where there was this sort of road diner and gas station. I was outside the road diner and heard a group of men talking to a woman about food outside it, and there was something about rolling up sugar in some other food item and eating it (something like a pancake, but that wasn't it) and she said she was allergic to sugar. Then they went inside and were going to order from the ethnic food served in the restaurant (though I don't remember which country it was from, just that it had a lot of vowels and H:s in it but wasn't Finnish) and I remember the guy running the place trying to pronounce the names of the dishes.
Then I started hiking up the green hill right next to the restaurant, when I got quite high there was a fence and a rope to hold on to for the hikers as the slope got quite steep. The fence just seemed to end where the rope was tied to it, no gate or anything, just no more fence. And there were these little strange creatures, like a hybrid between boars and this orange, fluffy, long-snouted creature I read about in a Donald Duck comic as a child (though the dream-creature was not orange, but sort of... brownish-terracotta-burgundy). A quite hefty woman and her (about) five-yearold daughter came climbing up behind me, and apparently the grazing creatures belonged to them. One of the fattest little creatures belonged to the girl and she cuddled it, despite it being the same size as her. It greeted me by licking my face (though it was more like sucking my face, very strange but adorable creatures) and then the woman and her child started going down the steepest part of the hill where there wasn't any grass, just rocks and dirt and dust. But it looked dangerous and I warned them that the rocks might have shifted after the collapse of the motorway down below. The woman agreed that this might be the reason, but they kept going and then I woke up.

The Dream of August 23-24

This dream has faded a lot since I was too lazy to write it down yesterday, but I remember some general things and a couple of details.


I found myself in Berlin one evening, it was quite cold and I feel as if it ought to have been rainy but I can't remember any actual rain. What I do remember is how autumn-y it was. Everyone, including me, was wearing lovely coats and hats and scarves. I remember leaving a train station, that looked remarkably like the one in Manchester rather than the huge Hauptbahnhof in Berlin. I'm not sure what happened between this and me about to cross a road with a guy I didn't really know, but I remember that the feeling of cold, dark and autumn had increased. And I was terrified. I'm not sure why, but we were crossing the road in a spot without a crosswalk, and I was so afraid of the cars and something else. All I can say for sure is that it wasn't the guy I was afraid of. We ran across half of the road and stopped in the middle. Now cars were approaching from both directions and I started to get hysterical as they whizzed past us on both sides of the road. One was so close behind us that I could feel it graze my calf. For some reason I know I was wearing my brown, knee-high boots. I think I fainted after this because I suddenly found myself flat on my back on the centerline and the guy was leaning over me. He got me off the road and we stumbled across to the other side where there was a park. Somehow we got through the park and later we were in the house in which he lived with his parents. I know he told them that I'd stay with him until I was to leave Berlin but I'm not sure when that would be or how I would travel. And this is really all I remember now.
The most vivid bits were the car grazing my calf and the general feeling of the cold autumn night. I can still sort of feel that.

The Dreams of June 25-26

All these things may have been tied together in one dream, but as the "connections" between the settings have faded (I'm having enough trouble remembering the different parts themselves) I'll treat them like individual dreams.

I think the first one was the one where I was somewhere in the UK and I had some place to go and a plane I needed to catch (I think at Prestwick airport), but for some reason I knew I'd miss it so I was trying to get to another plane and go home for a day so I could still return to the UK a couple of days later on the other flight I also had booked. I was in a small town somewhere in England when, not sure how, I found myself in a hostage situation on a bus. I don't remember being on the bus before the guy with the machine gun turned up, but there were a couple of other people on there who had luggage too so I think I may have been on it already. There was a brown-haired Swedish girl on the seat across from mine. Hostage-taker-guy had a huge sack he wanted everyone to put their wallets and handbags in. I'd put my money in my pocket and for some reason knew he wouldn't find it so my bag was free of valuables. Since it was my Aviv-bag and worth nothing I asked him if I could hang on to it, for sentimental reasons. He agreed but then started bullying everyone to put their phones in there as well. Again, I wanted to keep mine and knew it was worth nothing so I told him that it was a Nokia 1112 that had cost me 300 SEK when it was brand new (I think hostage-taker-guy was Swedish too since he seemed to realise how cheap it was). He made a big deal about phones like mine being the best ones but the lack of monetary value of it was apparently enough reason to let me keep it.
The bus travelled somewhere and stopped outside a restaurant in an old stone building, like a small castle. For some reason the manager of it came out to talk to hostege-taker-guy. And it was the manager of the Pizza Hut at Baker Street tube station in London (a gangly, black man with really long dreadlocks - some of which are blond. He even wore the same suit as when Kit and I saw him at Pizza Hut). The manager went back inside and hostage-taker-guy seemed to be busy doing something at the front of the bus and the back exit was open, so I took my Aviv-bag and ran for it. I ran into the restaurant and up some dark, wooden stairs to a small landing with a window facing the parking lot outside and a bunch of closed doors of the same wood as the stairs. The manager was there and I think we talked about the situation but I don't remember what was said. At first I thought I'd gotten away, but then hostage-taker-guy came running up the stairs (I did not give any thought to why he'd left the other twenty or so hostages alone in the bus to get me). He went over to the window where manager-man was, I was sitting on the floor just where the stairs ended. Hostage-taker-guy said something and then began to fire his machine gun, making a "sweeping motion" across the room, starting to the left of me and then reaching the left side of my head. I remember how it felt to be hit by... whatever he was shooting. It wasn't bullets, I don't think it was paint, it felt more like powerful puffs of air. He shot at my leg too, just at the ankle and it left a weird pattern on the hem of my jeans. Quite stylish, actually.
-End part 1 of the dream

I was back in Sweden and I made my way home. Except home was in the woods, by a lake. In a tiny, brick-shaped house that seemed to have only the one room and no kitchen or bathroom. The entrance was a glass door leading onto a sort of patio, what you'd expect in the garden of a "real" house. Inside there was a bed in one corner and a computer in another corner. I went there, hoping to find a cheap flight back to the UK as soon as possible. Then Kit, at least I think it was Kit, was there and we were talking about something when a big, flying bug appeared and it was following me. I shrieked and ran for the door. The bug came after me, but Kit managed to close the door on it and squash it.
That's all I remember from this part of the dream, I think I left to go to the airport or something after this.
-End part 2 of the dream

I was driving in a car constructed for troublesome terrain, it might have been a jeep. Someone was with me, it might have been my brother or maybe Beppo. We were driving up a gravel road and on our left were rows and rows of grape plants. It seemed to be a vineyard. When we got to the end of the road there was a guard there. I saw a guy I know from uni talking to him and saying he was going to "Emme's party" and was let through. Since I had no such excuse I ran off to the left where there was a very steep grassy slope to climb up and I did. Then I realised I couldn't quite remember the name of the guy I'd spotted. I remember thinking it might have been Daniel but since I wasn't sure I just shouted "Hiiiiii!" at him (lucky I did, his name is Kristofer). When I'd started the uni in Linköping he'd been one of my "guides". There are all kinds of activities for the first two weeks and the new students are divided into groups with two or three "guides" helping them settle in. He was happy to see me and I asked if the first two weeks had started yet and he told me they'd start the following day.
-End part 3 of the dream.

That's it. There was more to this dream, or series of dreams, but this is all I can remember.

The Dream of June 24-25

It's been more than a day since I had this dream so most of the details have faded, even though I've tried to keep it fresh in my mind.

The first part took place in a chemistry classroom, in which Kit's class was having an end-of-term-thing. It was summer, and really warm, and the entire class was dressed in white and lined up like a choir. For some reason, they were singing Christmas Carols. And Kit was singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen as a solo. She actually did quite well! But some blond girl who seemed to think very highly of herself suddenly decided that she could do it better and took over. While she did have a very good voice it was completely uncalled for as Kit had not been putting the song to shame. I got soooo angry, but afterwards Kit was all "oh, it's ok, she's a total bimbo and always does things like this".
Then I walked down a grassy slope and found my lovely, English friend Louise sitting on a blanket and enjoying the weather. I really can't remember what we talked about, but I know she was there on business and had meetings and things. Not that I remember where "there" was, I don't think it was Stockholm or even Sweden.
After Louise had gone to another meeting I met a man who was renting a flat nearby. I think we went out to dinner or something and talked. He invited me back to his flat and it was simply a friendly type thing. When we got there I realised that he was living with his boyfriends and their pets. One of the pets was some kind of fluffy rodent and the other was just a small, fluffy, odd-looking thing. Like a cross between a collie and a llama, but tiny.

This is pretty much all I remember. The gay couple and their pets were adorable. (:-P

The Dream of the morning of June 17th

I had this dream after waking up in the morning and resetting my alarm clock for one hour later. Yeah, I sure know how to dream fast. I felt a bit anxious throughout this dream, but it wasn't until I got to the last part that it got really bad. Really, really bad.

The first thing I can remember about this dream is that I was in an abandoned flat or something, tending to several sick, abandoned dogs who were in the tiniest kitchen I've seen, tucked away in different cupboards. Everytime I opened one I found a new dog. All of them were similar in colour, and I think they were supposed to be the same breed too, but I remember noticing differences between them, like one having curly fur on his head. All of them were white, but so dirty that they looked greyish. I had my mother's car with me and she'd said something about me having permission to drive one of the dogs to the vet in case it was really ill. Trouble was, I felt that several of them were, so I called my mum and after a short discussion she instructed me to put towels in the backseat that they could lie on. I remember thinking in the dream that I didn't have a driver's license, but perhaps I somehow did anyway or perhaps my brother showed up and drove because the next thing I know I was at the vet with the dogs. For some reason, I did not go in with them, but waited outside with Mia, my brother's girlfriend, while my mother and brother were taking care of things.

I had this tiny bar of chocolate, a kind I used to eat sometimes when I was a kid (back then it cost 2 SEK, I've seen it in a couple of places now for something like 5 SEK) and Mia asked to get some of it. The bar is split into 3x4 little pieces and she broke off the first three saying something about how that matched the calendar and how it was only fair that she got the first three since she, my brother and someone named Johan (who might be one of her nephews or her brother) had their birthdays in the first three months of the year. Now, this isn't true since my brother's birthday is in June and hers is in August, but I let her have the pieces she wanted and then took the next three thinking that: "well, this is only fair, my birthday and my brother's and my father's are all in the first six months of the year - only my mother's is later in the year" (this is true, so there was SOME logic to it).

When my mother and brother returned no one even mentioned the dogs, but for some reason we were supposed to go to the hall of residency in which the vet's daughter was living and give her something. My mother didn't come with us, but the rest of us drove there and I realised it was the same hall of residency that I lived in - which looked nothing like the one I'm actually living in. The dream one was top of the line in every way. Technology, design, etc. We walked down the hall and my brother knocked on her door and then pushed it open. Inside, three people were sitting around the counter of a bar that, apparently, had been added. They were studying and surprisedly stared at the people who'd entered without permission. I felt incredibly ashamed of my brother and quickly left the scene. Apparently Mia followed me, because we then found ourselves in my room down the hall and she asked why it had bothered me so. I told her that it was just not how things were done there, one didn't enter a room until the person living in it had opened the door.

After my brother had picked up Mia and they'd left I suddenly found myself in a corridor much like the one in my Hall of Residency, only this one was clearly underground. The light from the ceiling made the place seem an odd grey-green-blue-ish colour. I'm pretty sure that there was something happening that had to do with the dogs again, I think I may have had one of them with me but I can't swear on it. I had a copy of the national, daily news paper Dagens Nyheter with me, and suddenly I found an open door. Two people were inside playing table tennis, or badminton without a net. It might seem weird that I can't remember which, possibly they were playing both at different times during our conversations, but I'm dead sure there was no net for the supposed badminton match. These two people were the head of the political party Moderaterna (though not the real one, who is Prime Minister), this one was older and a woman from his party. I can not believe my eyes and immediately I dive into a discussion about the upcoming vote on the FRA law (which will grant the authorities permission to spy on any information that passes in and out of Swedish borders, like e-mails and such) which this party supports. Having read that anyone who votes against it in their party could be forced to leave it I had to ask about this. When I asked if it was true he said "Yes, it is. But that's true of all of the parties really." Then we got into a discussion of whether or not this was the case before I fell silent and started flipping through my paper, still sitting right outside that door. There was a full-page add in colour from a family looking for somewhere in the city for their son (who was starting university) to live. There was a picture of them on a lawn with an oak tree, in front of a house. Some kind of harness was attached to the oak tree and the "headline" of the ad went: "Where will [some kind of typical, cutesy dog name] get to swing now?" and it seemed that the ugly bulldog in the picture had some kind of swing for dogs in this tree and that they wanted a place for their son to live closer to the uni where they could still keep that harness swing-thing.

At this point Kit appeared. I think her boyfriend, Julian, was with her because I distinctly remember the presence of another person. As soon as she came up to me I know things were bad with her. If she's tired and the head ache she's had for six months is unusually bad her temper can be very bad too, but this time it was beyond bad. While I normally am on my toes around her when she's in a bad mood this time I was actually frightened. Somehow I just knew that one wrong word would push her from being upset to being suicidal. So I glanced over at the badminton-or-table-tennis-playing politicians and hoped there would be no more talk about the law she despised as much as I did (and do). I think I exchanged a look with Julian (if he was the one with her) and sort of agreed that "yeah, shit, she's right on the edge". A fresh wave of anxiety washed over me that was so bad I almost felt nauseous as I watched her take a few steps around the underground corridor. She then tore out a page from my paper, folded it into a little air plane and hurled it down the hall. It flew a long way and as it crashed a little girl with dark, curly hair came out from behind a door close to where the plane had landed. Kit folded a new plane and threw it, and the girl giggled and stretched her hands towards it as it came flying past her.
And then I woke up.

It might be useful to know that I watched a documentary about PETA last night (which pissed me off as they're a bunch of fakes) and that the FRA law stuff has been bothering me for a week so most of this dream is easy enough to interpret. I even think the colour of the fur on the dogs (which was supposed to be white) came from this as there is a manifestation of sorts outside the Parliament building tomorrow morning where people who are against the law will show up, dressed in all white.

The Dream of June 7-8

Right, so, I had quite a dry spell for a while and then when the dreams came back, the blog did not. I may post short versions of ones I remember later, but probably not.

Kit graduates on Tuesday and we're flying to Stansted Wednesday morning and we'll head to Oxford from there to see Wes live. So, clearly, it's about time for my gig-travel-nerves to rear their ugly head and so they have.

In this dream we were indeed supposed to see Wes, but for some reason we'd not managed to get standing tickets before they ran out so we'd sent him a message about it and he, being the Wes we all love, said he'd get us in anyway and that we shouldn't bother with tickets. So far, he was very much himself.
The gig was, apparently, in my home town of Jönköping (though it looked nothing like it) in a venue that was actually a club (and does not exist in real life). It was run by someone who was a vicious bastard and much too stupid to run any kind of business, or so my brother had told me. The venue itself was actually quite cool. Standing stalls in the front (but quite a small area) and then two rows of seats behind it, and then clusters of seats on various levels behind that. Very odd looking but with surprisingly good acoustics.
Now, things get a bit weird as we're already inside but still looking for tickets, somehow. When I attempt to book the first time while inside I only get seats on row 4 and 5. We start to get worried and hope to find Wes to ask him about the arrangement with us getting tickets on the floor instead, ignoring the seated tickets we could buy.
What I can only assume is some kind of sound check starts and we get to hear one song from Wes before this other band shows up and sits down. They look like they belong at the Burg-Herzberg Festival and they have guitars, one violin and various odd drums and percussion instruments. At this point we're at the back of the room, up on some kind of balcony, behind the actual seats. Imagine the back wall of a venue, an elevated balcony with an open space behind it leading into the backstage area - that's where we were. And now Kit heads off to the backstage corridor to find Wes before he gets to the off-limit areas behind one of the doors. Another thing one should know about Kit in this dream is that she's working on some kind of project to do with the Spice Girls. It wasn't that she truly liked them, but I think part of her did and this project was her entire life for some reason, so anything she talked about - even if it was a subject that had nothing to do with the Spice Girls - could easily be related to her project.
I stray a bit, watching this new band - they were terrible, but the violinist was playing her instrument in a very odd way and I called out for Kit to come watch, she said that she didn't want to and that she had to ask Wes something. So I walk over to her and try to persuade her, and she takes one quick look at the violin player before we hear Wes approach and dart out again to meet him. Before I have a chance to open my mouth and say anything Kit has already (in a very hyper, frightening sort of way asked him if she can ask him a question). This is very unlike her, as she's normally a bit shy and... less scary. Wes says that he doesn't have time, in a very brusque manner. But she pleads with him and he gives in and agrees to answer one question very quickly. And, of course, she asks something that has to do with her Spice Girls project - and not about our tickets. What she asks is: "How long will it take before the very best pictures taken at a concert to be properly processed?" Don't ask me to explain it, I can't. I have no idea what pictures she's referring to, who is supposed to take them - Kit herself, a professional, some kind of magic robot - or how they have anything to do with her project. But somehow, Wes knows what she's talking about and says that it ought to take two weeks. And just before he's about to close the door he just walked through I manage to stop him and ask about our tickets. I don't remember his exact response but it was something along the lines of him not having the time nor inclination to deal with it and we had to sort it out ourselves (anyone who's ever met Wes will, at this point, realise why I consider this a nightmare).
Downtrodden, we head back to our little balcony thing and find that, by the seats on our right, just off to the back, there is now a man trying to break the world record of how high one can throw an object (that I've never seen before) that looks a bit like a plastic balloon. Someone's made a hole in the ceiling for him to throw it through and as he prepares to do so the man who runs the venue arrives from a door off to the side. Some kind of dance music issues from that door and this is when I realise that the venue is part of a bigger building with his club in it and that this man is calling the shots. It was definitely his idea to break that world record in the venue. It's hard to explain this man, he acts very strange and looks like a mixture of Peter Siepen (very annoying guy on Swedish television) and Alex from A Clockwork Orange.

After this there is more trouble with that club, its owner and whatnot. I think I exit the venue and find myself on the beach for some reason. And then they changed owners (which they'd done a few times before) and the new one was just as daft as the old one.

So, that's my demented dream of the day - I'll try to keep posting more of them from now on.

The Dream of February 5-6

I can't actually put a face to the friend who was with me in this dream, but I think it was either Linnéa or Kit. And we were going to stay in this... I suppose it was something similar to a fraternity/sorority house but it was here at my uni. The difference between this place and a regular, Swedish hall of residency was quite obvious. The odd thing is that most of the place felt like it was underground. Odd corridors and rooms, twisting around themselves. Kind of like the trees that the Gummy Bears live in (for those who've seen that classic show!). It's difficult to describe in detail, but it just had the feel or a large underground shelter, all the corridors of it as small as possible. And it had that slightly damp smell of underground too.
It was clear that we were not in charge, that we were only guests or maybe initiates in whatever the organisation was. My neighbour, Carola, was there too and she had more respect than we did, but she was not one of the "top people".

At some point my friend needed to take a test and we were directed to a small table, in a room off the kitchen. We could hear the sounds from the dinner party in the kitchen area. A woman that I think was sort of a hybrid of a philosophy lecturer and an English lecturer I've had (both of them named Annika) and we were informed that under no circumstances whatsoever could our mobiles make any noise when she was talking - despite the fact that the noises from the rowdy party, her speech and the distance to us would've ensured that our phones could not bother them.
The odd thing was that the phones did not seem to be a problem for my friend's test. Neither was my presence there. Either way, she wrote her test and we talked to one of the "leaders" about leaving. And he said something about them having little kids in yellow raincoats stationed all the way back to where we actually lived and that we could not go there. We darted to a window - the first thing to suggest that we were actually not in a Gummy Bear-tree-type-underground-residency. Outside was this creepy, doll-like girl with huge eyes and a manic smile, wearing a yellow raincoat and she was staring at us. Naturally, it creeped us out. We were very frightened, but after a short discussion we reached the conclusion that he'd been lying and that they probably only had that one, creepy kid in a raincoat, and we decided to leave and go home.
After that I can't remember what happened. So I have no idea if we made it home or got killed by the creepy doll-kids. But I remember that we felt happy and confident about being right before we left.

The Dream of January 24-25

I've been a bit under the weather and I was so tired that I slept for most of the day yesterday, and went to bed fairly early last night. As a result I had the longest dream, or rather series of dreams that sort of tied in with one another. I have very vague recollections of waking and remembering the beginning of this dream - which I've now forgotten the details of - but since this was such a long one I don't have clear recollections of the whole thing, so there will be some gaps in places.


I think that I was on a pier, or something, with Kit and some other people and we jumped in the water. And there was a heavy fog, but I have no idea what we were doing - all I know is that we somehow got away from each other and I know that I was walking along the beach very slowly, trying to navigate my way through the thick mist (those who know me will be wondering about the normality of this dream, well, just you wait).

I think at this point I was wearing something made out of tulle and silk, something quite odd - like a hybrid of a dress and suit. But I think that it was difficult to move around in since I'd been in the water and that I got rid of the bottom part of it as I was walking along the beach and now I was wearing a top of silk and tulle and the tights I'd been wearing underneath the dress-thing. In my hand was a glass of... chocolate milkshake (because if you're walking on a beach through the heaviest fog you've ever seen with no trousers on we all know you need milkshake.)
Suddenly I felt a hand on my back and I flinched and tried to get it off, saying something like "don't touch me!" but the hand was still there. So I turned and threw my milkshake in the face of what turned out to be a young main in what looked like a very expensive shirt and a backslick hairstyle. A typical Stockholm rich kid, carrying a bit of extra alcohol weight - like they so often do. He was furious and started chasing me but somehow I got away from him. After swimming for a while I found Kit and the others.

Here's a blank part, all I know is that I was trying to hide from him in different places but he kept coming after me. At some point Kit either stopped following me around as I was running or turned into a girl I knew as a kid - because the next part I remember does not feature Kit, but this girl Nina (who I recently remember thinking about, wondering what's happened to her).
I was now in Öxnehaga, the area in Jönköping that I lived in from age 2 to 11. (It's odd, I was just thinking that I don't know anyone who still lives there, all my friends who lived there when I did or after have since moved and I only go back there occasionally to get my hair cut at the hair salon I've been going to since I was little, but I now did a search of this girl Nina and found that she still lives there). Nina and I were about to go into the local grocery store (though it looked different) when two men came up to us and started yelling at me for doing what I'd done to whatever the rich guy's name was. I know these men from the Sweden Rock Festival message board and they are lovely, albeit a bit odd, people in real life. I remember feeling terribly sad in the dream, especially since the one who acted the worst in the dream is an absolute sweetheart and one of the best "huggers" in the world when you meet him in the real world. I don't remember exactly what they were yelling, but I remember that he spat me in the face. Nina dragged me into the store and I was crying (this was incredibly vivid) and thought "When we go to the Burg-Herzberg Festival this year he's going to be so mean to me and so nice to the others and it's going to be terrible!"

After this incident I was in a hotel room, thinking I was finally free. The walls, floor and bed spread was this dark, forest-y green and the doors were a dark wooden brown. Quite depressing, and disgustingly 70s. Suddenly the door opens and the man I'm running from enters, only now he's a different person (I'm not gonna say who, but I remember thinking that he kinda looked like the guy who would seem nice and quite and then turn out to be an insane serial killer). He says that he's in "that room" and indicates a door in my room that I had not noticed before this. It has a number and everything, clearly his room's entrance is in my room. He enters his room, shuts the door and even though I know the dream continued after this, I can't remember any more.



This was not as cool as I would've wanted the first dream after such a long absence to be, but that's all I remember of it - sorry.

The Dream of January 6-7

Last night at Kit's place.


Don't know how or why I wound up there, but I think I'd been swimming in a lake or ocean, possibly lake Vättern as I'm pretty sure I was in some odd version of Jönköping. And I hadn't been anticipating the swim as I stripped down to my underwear to do it - something I'd never do in real life, a one-piece bathing suit is embarrassing enough, thank you very much.
Upon returning to the spot where I'd left my clothes I realised that they were gone. So it seemed I'd have to walk home half-naked. After a while I found a nightgown or something, at least that's what I think it was. It was a thin, white, cotton material anyways and it wasn't a great help but it would have to do. I walk along this road that seems to be an on-ramp to a motorway or something, but it was heading uphill, with another road crossing below it, and modern and strange architecture really close around it. I think it reminded me of an album cover, but I can't remember which one.

Somehow I found myself in a restaurant. But not at a table or on the floor, but on some kind of decoration or lamp hanging from the ceiling. There were plenty of them, they were red and had a circular shape to them. Each lamp/decoration was placed at a different distance from the floor, to give it more of an effect, I suppose. It would be tricky to manouvre between them and to the ground, but as I stood there wondering how to do it, I saw someone standingon one of them just below me and decided to follow him. It was Will Smith, and this was all part of a scene he was shooting for one of those sort-of-drama-sort-of-comedy-for-the-entire-family type films he likes to do. I got down from there, somehow, without disturbing the scene and then I went home. Back at home I locked the door behind me since someone had tried to open it from outside every now and then over the last few days, and it was making my brother quite frightened.
Then, later that day, we heard it again, and I slowly made my way to the door and saw a pair of small, pink shoes through the letter box. Confused by this I opened the door and outside was a girl who looked a lot like the middle-child from the family featured on "Medium". When I asked if she'd been trying to open our door for days she said that she had. So I asked her why and she said that she thought our flat was the only way to the thirteenth floor where her grandfather lived. Now, our building has seven floors where our flat is, and eight in some other places. But in the dream there were twelve where we lived and thirteen in number three, where her grandfather lived. For some reason she couldn't get in through the front door in number three, I don't know why. But then there was something with an elevator and an attic and... I'm not sure what else, but I think the girl got home to her grandfather all right.

The Dream of January 3-4

So, I'm at Kit's for a few days and apparently listening to the B-side of Close to the Edge while sleeping is inducive to having strange dreams. And clearly, my return to World of Warcraft has affected my subconscious too.


Me and my brother were on a grassy slope just by a tower, typical of WoW. And the environment seemed very medieval. However, commercial planes were circling above us and my brother pulled out a bazooka and shot one down.
"Try it, it's fun!" he said. So I did. But I missed the first shot. I had more luck the second time and a plane crashed just one hundred metres away. Immediately people ran there to loot the wreckge and we followed. I found a pack of either really thin books or thick pamphlets. They were from some religious cult and dealt with "sexual abnormalities", like homosexuality and stuff. Clerly this organisation was stupid.

Suddenly the dream shifted and we were at a gas station where a friend of ours (not a real one, just a dream one) were loading stuff into the back of a huge SUV type car. The pamphlets were stuck between some of the stuff he'd loaded and I pulled them out Now, the government was run by this cult and our friend was going to some clandestine meeting for gay group sex. They were supposed to fake-kidnap him or something and I was really worried and told him to be careful. Just about here the dream ended, but I think that I just had time to see his car be stopped and attacked by men in dark suits.



I had an even weirder dream last night, but even though I tried to remember it when I woke up in the middle of the night I couldn't remember it after a few more hours of sleep. (:-(