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.
Wednesday 10 December 2008
Tuesday 9 December 2008
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.
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.
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