This blog contains material I wrote and posted on between the years 2005 and 2011 only. It does not contain any new material. For newer writing, please check my main blog (Bill the Butcher).

Monday, 22 October 2012

The Mother Of All Dreams

(From April 2011)

Now last night's dream was really rather special, with cameo roles for UFOs, zombie skulls, burning printers, and anti-aircraft missiles. And that's only the part I remember!

It started – as far as I recall – with my walking down a street at the far end of town. That street is fairly steep and though it’s lined by shops and houses, in my dream it was almost deserted and very poorly lit. I was going to someone’s house, which I could see – it was sunken below the level of the street and brightly lit, but I couldn’t see anyone at the door or near it.

Then, somehow or other, I was in a mall or shopping complex, but one which was only partly completed, with deserted corridors and only a few shops open. There was incense smoke drifting through the air, and as I walked along it seemed the incense got stronger and stronger, the smoke hanging lower and lower to the floor. It was almost like the smoke machines in a 1980s pop video, only not so thick. Then I turned a corner and saw that the smoke was coming from…skulls.

They were all over the floor, tens of skulls, crawling towards me with red glowing eyes, and the incense smoke was coming from those eyes. I knew they wanted to eat me, but they were so slow that I just turned round and walked away, from them and into the nearest lit shop…

…which turned out to be this room, the room in which I am now. This computer also was on, and I began typing something horribly urgent on it. It was so damned urgent that I just had to finish it in time for…something. (I don’t remember what it was, but it was certainly extremely important and made sense at the time.)

Karla, from Subversify, wearing a brown Mao suit, came in then and joined me in typing. (I didn’t see her face but knew it was she; and she had short black hair.) The incense smoke was now very thick in the room and I realised that it wasn’t incense smoke but burning. The smoke was coming from wires at the base of my printer, which were glowing orange and burning, even though the printer wasn’t on and the very important thing Karla was typing hadn’t got to be printed or anything.

The next bit is unclear, but after that I was wandering through my home, alone. There is a door which I use to go from one section of the house to another, but I can also reach that section of the house by going out into the yard and re-entering by the outside door. However, in my dream the inside door was blocked by a shoe locker and a clothes rack from the other side. I made no attempt to remove them, though I could have easily done, and went out and back in again from the outer door. I was alone, and this was day, and brightly sunlit.

And then again it was night, and I was standing on a bridge near a car. I knew, however, that this was not a real car, but a camouflaged British anti-aircraft missile unit. There was a rack which extended from the roof, with a quick-reaction anti-aircraft missile on it. As I watched, the scene took on a YouTube video-like quality, and I saw a missile spurt smoke from its tail end and then take off. A fraction of a second into its flight it ignited a rocket trail for a few seconds and then vanished into the night sky. A few seconds after that I saw an explosion very far away, and knew the anti-aircraft missile unit was firing at UFOs. (I knew this, even though nobody had told me.)

Meanwhile, sparklers as from fireworks began burning nearby, bright green and yellow. The crew from the anti-aircraft missile unit fired off several more missiles (which also exploded on high) and jumped out of their vehicle and ran for shelter under the porch of a nearby house, and began manoeuvering their unit around with a remote control (incidentally, though they were British, they all looked Indian and were in civilian clothes). I asked the commander whether he was firing at UFOs or just practice shots. He said it was practice, but I didn’t believe him. Especially as his crew were obviously terrified of retaliation. I was waiting for a laser beam to come down and melt the vehicle to slag, but nothing happened.

Then my lawyer turned up, jumped into a small red car parked nearby and reversed out of the bridge at high speed and with all the skill of a stunt driver. By this time it was morning, and the British crew jumped into their vehicle and prepared to drive off. Somehow or other I was in it too, and the vehicle was now right in front of my own house. I asked the commander, who was driving, and who was now an uncle of mine, “Where are we going?” to which he replied, “I don’t know. You tell me.”

I said, “I can’t go anywhere! I have to do all the chores and stuff and feed the kids before going to work.” I quickly got out of the car, knowing there was something else, very important, I had to do.

But before I could decide what, I woke up.

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