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.
Thursday 26 June 2008
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 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
Tuesday 17 June 2008
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 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.
Sunday 8 June 2008
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.
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.
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