All things considered...
Nov. 27th, 2003 01:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeToday has been pretty good. In other words, I woke up at about 12:30. ^_-
Had some pretty bad nightmares, but at least I slept. Well, one nightmare, and another two dreams which were kind of odd.
The first dream I don't remember too well, but it involved meeting my father at a railroad station. It looked more like a gigantic warehouse which had been set up to look like a café, with small tables and chairs and so forth. My father had been at one end, and someone had screamed to the public at large that there was a phone call at the other end, and my father knew it was for him. So he had to run to the other side to get the phone. He was explaining this to me when we met.
I was woken up by the cats, so I don't know what, if anything, happened next.
The next dream is also a bit of a blur, and the perspective kept changing. I was with my parents in a place that was a kind of supermarket. We were buying baby supplies, but it was always unclear whether there was a baby or not, and whose baby it was. I remember no one was really happy about being there, and I was determined to buy some of the things my parents weren't willing to buy.
The scene shifted slightly to another couple in the supermarket, and as far as I could tell there had been some sort of deception about the baby. I was no longer involved in the scene at all, but was watching it rather as though they couldn't see me. I think they had either stolen the baby (which I never saw), or she had believed erroneously that she was pregnant. All I remember is that the two of them were definitely not good news, and I was anxious that they shouldn't succeed in what they were up to.
Then the cats made it clear they would chew off my nose if I didn't feed them, so I did and went back to bed.
I "awoke" in a new dream, to find myself watching a scene in a dingy little pub. For some reason, this was the location of an interview being held with the actors from a TV show that had been very popular several years earlier. They were something like child stars, and were telling the interviewer how their lives had been after the show.
There was a short clip on a screen, suddenly (the screen wasn't in the pub, but I switched momentarily to a screening room for some reason). It was showing a flashback to a cartoon show a lot like the Simpsons, showing how much the characters had changed since the show had gone digital. The change was enormous, in my dream.
Moving back to the pub, the interviewer was interviewing the "bad boy" of the lot, and it really seemed like he'd led the same life he'd portrayed in the show. He was dressed in a leather bomber jacket and a dirty white t-shirt (it might have even been a wife-beater) and blue jeans with scuffed boots. I began watching in earnest, and the interview aspect of the thing slowly faded away as the guy went to play pool with his buddies, and one of them, after a disagreement, hit him hard in the stomach with a pool cue, bending him double. He made some snarky comment about not having to eat again (it was weird, don't ask), and skulked off to join his girlfriend, who inexplicably reminded me of Harmony on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, except not as thin and more intelligent.
He and his girlfriend clearly had a rocky relationship. She didn't trust him, and he didn't trust her. There was something odd and creepy and supernatural about it, as though they hated each other but were forced to be together, somehow. At one point, she began to laugh hysterically at him, pointing to his shirt (the jacket was gone) which was covered in blood. His bare arms were bloody too, although I couldn't see an actual wound. She was the cause, that was evident, but he didn't seem particularly fazed, just sneered at her and said something about already having taken her blood while she was sleeping (I had a very vivid flash of syringes and vials of blood, as though I was seeing his memories), and the two of them glared each other. It was a standoff, basically.
The scene changed again, and the two of them were talking to an older man in a small but plushly-decorated office. I thought he might be a counsellor of some sort, but that weird supernatural link was still there. She was telling the man (he might have been the equivalent of Van Helsing, really) about her boyfriend's experiences, although he was furious with her for breaking the secrecy of it all. He also seemed surprised that she knew about them.
He'd been having odd dreams/visions/out-of-body experiences, which, as was pointed out in the dream, played out a bit like those murder-mystery games that were so popular in the mid-90s. Everything in his visions looked vaguely Victorian: the huge manor house, the cemeteries, the way the rooms were decorated. He also had a certain amount of control over what went on, although not absolute control. She was able to see through his eyes, had experienced part of it with him, although he was unaware of it at first.
That's when it became scary. I began seeing through her eyes, as though in a trance. She was seeing what *he* was seeing, which made it all the weirder. We were walking along a dirt road, towards a cemetery. There were no tombstones or crypts, though. Everything had been replaced by chairs (big poofy armchairs, if you can credit it —it seems ridiculous now, of course) which glowed with an eerie red light. The light grew brighter and brighter as we approached, as did the feeling of overpowering malevolence in the place, and my heart beat increasingly quickly as we walked forward, knowing that death lay in that direction. We were powerless to do anything else, though.
Then, of course, the phone rang and that was the end of that.
Had some pretty bad nightmares, but at least I slept. Well, one nightmare, and another two dreams which were kind of odd.
The first dream I don't remember too well, but it involved meeting my father at a railroad station. It looked more like a gigantic warehouse which had been set up to look like a café, with small tables and chairs and so forth. My father had been at one end, and someone had screamed to the public at large that there was a phone call at the other end, and my father knew it was for him. So he had to run to the other side to get the phone. He was explaining this to me when we met.
I was woken up by the cats, so I don't know what, if anything, happened next.
The next dream is also a bit of a blur, and the perspective kept changing. I was with my parents in a place that was a kind of supermarket. We were buying baby supplies, but it was always unclear whether there was a baby or not, and whose baby it was. I remember no one was really happy about being there, and I was determined to buy some of the things my parents weren't willing to buy.
The scene shifted slightly to another couple in the supermarket, and as far as I could tell there had been some sort of deception about the baby. I was no longer involved in the scene at all, but was watching it rather as though they couldn't see me. I think they had either stolen the baby (which I never saw), or she had believed erroneously that she was pregnant. All I remember is that the two of them were definitely not good news, and I was anxious that they shouldn't succeed in what they were up to.
Then the cats made it clear they would chew off my nose if I didn't feed them, so I did and went back to bed.
I "awoke" in a new dream, to find myself watching a scene in a dingy little pub. For some reason, this was the location of an interview being held with the actors from a TV show that had been very popular several years earlier. They were something like child stars, and were telling the interviewer how their lives had been after the show.
There was a short clip on a screen, suddenly (the screen wasn't in the pub, but I switched momentarily to a screening room for some reason). It was showing a flashback to a cartoon show a lot like the Simpsons, showing how much the characters had changed since the show had gone digital. The change was enormous, in my dream.
Moving back to the pub, the interviewer was interviewing the "bad boy" of the lot, and it really seemed like he'd led the same life he'd portrayed in the show. He was dressed in a leather bomber jacket and a dirty white t-shirt (it might have even been a wife-beater) and blue jeans with scuffed boots. I began watching in earnest, and the interview aspect of the thing slowly faded away as the guy went to play pool with his buddies, and one of them, after a disagreement, hit him hard in the stomach with a pool cue, bending him double. He made some snarky comment about not having to eat again (it was weird, don't ask), and skulked off to join his girlfriend, who inexplicably reminded me of Harmony on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, except not as thin and more intelligent.
He and his girlfriend clearly had a rocky relationship. She didn't trust him, and he didn't trust her. There was something odd and creepy and supernatural about it, as though they hated each other but were forced to be together, somehow. At one point, she began to laugh hysterically at him, pointing to his shirt (the jacket was gone) which was covered in blood. His bare arms were bloody too, although I couldn't see an actual wound. She was the cause, that was evident, but he didn't seem particularly fazed, just sneered at her and said something about already having taken her blood while she was sleeping (I had a very vivid flash of syringes and vials of blood, as though I was seeing his memories), and the two of them glared each other. It was a standoff, basically.
The scene changed again, and the two of them were talking to an older man in a small but plushly-decorated office. I thought he might be a counsellor of some sort, but that weird supernatural link was still there. She was telling the man (he might have been the equivalent of Van Helsing, really) about her boyfriend's experiences, although he was furious with her for breaking the secrecy of it all. He also seemed surprised that she knew about them.
He'd been having odd dreams/visions/out-of-body experiences, which, as was pointed out in the dream, played out a bit like those murder-mystery games that were so popular in the mid-90s. Everything in his visions looked vaguely Victorian: the huge manor house, the cemeteries, the way the rooms were decorated. He also had a certain amount of control over what went on, although not absolute control. She was able to see through his eyes, had experienced part of it with him, although he was unaware of it at first.
That's when it became scary. I began seeing through her eyes, as though in a trance. She was seeing what *he* was seeing, which made it all the weirder. We were walking along a dirt road, towards a cemetery. There were no tombstones or crypts, though. Everything had been replaced by chairs (big poofy armchairs, if you can credit it —it seems ridiculous now, of course) which glowed with an eerie red light. The light grew brighter and brighter as we approached, as did the feeling of overpowering malevolence in the place, and my heart beat increasingly quickly as we walked forward, knowing that death lay in that direction. We were powerless to do anything else, though.
Then, of course, the phone rang and that was the end of that.
