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What Did You Dream Of Last Night?

I never remember dreams, I will wake up tell the wife I had a dream
now and then but can never remember anything about it, till that is
about 3 days ago, I dreamed I heard a voice predicting the death of
a well know person around March next year, much rather I had not had it
and hope it does not come true, but can still remember it word for word.
 
RaM said:
dreamed I heard a voice predicting the death of
a well know person around March next year, much rather I had not had it
and hope it does not come true, but can still remember it word for word.
Click to expand...

No chance you could give us a clue?

(It probably won't happen)
 
RaM said:
I never remember dreams, I will wake up tell the wife I had a dream
now and then but can never remember anything about it, till that is
about 3 days ago, I dreamed I heard a voice predicting the death of
a well know person around March next year, much rather I had not had it
and hope it does not come true, but can still remember it word for word.
Click to expand...

Spit it out. It's just a dream. I had a dream that Tom Jones'd died some years ago, and announced it on'ere, and not only did he not die, he goes from strength to strength!
 
A well known person tends to die every month, it seems...
 
RaM said:
I never remember dreams, I will wake up tell the wife I had a dream
now and then but can never remember anything about it, till that is
about 3 days ago, I dreamed I heard a voice predicting the death of
a well know person around March next year, much rather I had not had it
and hope it does not come true, but can still remember it word for word.
Click to expand...
I once dreamt my Grandad had died .. he was in good health when I had the dream but it was so vivid that I mentioned it to my best mate .. a day or so later our phone rang, I'd forgotten all about the dream to be honest although my heart sank when I heard my Mum downstairs sounding upset at the phone call because my Grandad had died .. he went/died asleep on his sofa which was some consolation to me, he was my best mate in the world .. my other mate reminded me of my dream and I didn't tell my Dad about it ... his Dad had just died so he didn't need to hear about any 'voodoo' bullshit from me ... Joe Swift was ace, I've still got his harmonica :) ..
 
I to have told a friend that has written it down and told the wife but don't at the moment
feel easy about realising it on the web.
 
RaM said:
I to have told a friend that has written it down and told the wife but don't at the moment
feel easy about realising it on the web.
Click to expand...

That's fine, nobody will pressure you.
 
We're off on a short holiday in a couple of weeks to Iceland, which includes a mini-cruise to go whale-watching.
In anticipation of something I've wanted to do for a long time, I had a remarkably vivid dream about it last night.
It started out in a straightforward manner. I was standing on the deck, holding the rail as the ship left Reykjavik harbour. I even dreamt about using my mobile to take some photos. Then it fast-forwarded a bit (as dreams do) and things took a darker turn.
First, we almost collided with another huge ship, the hull of which came within feet of our ship. Next I realised that a passenger on our ship had suffered a heart-attack or some other sort of seizure and I could see a couple of men wearing high-vis jackets trying to resuscitate him. I woke up at this point.
Sincerely hope it was just a silly dream and not a premonition.
Will update this thread when I'm back from holiday!
 
blessmycottonsocks said:
We're off on a short holiday in a couple of weeks to Iceland, which includes a mini-cruise to go whale-watching.
In anticipation of something I've wanted to do for a long time, I had a remarkably vivid dream about it last night.
It started out in a straightforward manner. I was standing on the deck, holding the rail as the ship left Reykjavik harbour. I even dreamt about using my mobile to take some photos. Then it fast-forwarded a bit (as dreams do) and things took a darker turn.
First, we almost collided with another huge ship, the hull of which came within feet of our ship. Next I realised that a passenger on our ship had suffered a heart-attack or some other sort of seizure and I could see a couple of men wearing high-vis jackets trying to resuscitate him. I woke up at this point.
Sincerely hope it was just a silly dream and not a premonition.
Will update this thread when I'm back from holiday!
Click to expand...

Don't worry, I'm sure you'll have a WHALE of time!


OK, OK, I'm going... :mcoat:
 
How the guy fixing my basement messed up the color of the baseboard trim....
:(
 
David Plankton said:
At the bottom of the statement is printed "You Passed."

Passed over? I haven't sat any exams lately and the date 1997 means nothing. I did have an NHS check up earlier in the week and am waiting for results of the blood test, cholesterol etc.
Click to expand...

Ulalume said:
That's probably it - the dream is saying your tests will come out well.
Click to expand...

Yes, I've just found out everything is normal. So I'll just carry on with my Mediterranean diet. (Wine and cheese).
 
Oh dear. I can hear the whaling. And gnashing of teeth.
 
Had a vague dream last night but one thing that stood out was someone kept repeating the name Redfern Froggatt. The name was so unusual that I checked it out and there was a real Redfern Froggatt. I found this on Wikipedia

Redfern Froggatt (23 August 1924 – 26 December 2003) was an English footballer for Sheffield Wednesday and England.

Redfern was the son of former Sheffield Wednesday captain Frank Froggatt, and the cousin of England international Jack Froggatt. In 1942 'Red' was signed from Sheffield YMCA but did not become a regular player in the Wednesday side until 1945. Over the course of the next 15 years he would go on to make a total of 498 appearances for the club, mostly as a striker but playing over 50 games as a winger, scoring 149 goals. He made his England debut in a match against Wales in 1952 and in total received four England caps scoring 2 goals. His final game for Wednesday came in the 1959–60 season.

Now, I have no interest in football and doubt if I could name a current player, yet I had a dream about someone who had a career which ended just after I was born.

I can only assume I heard is name somewhere (let’s face it, it’s not exactly Joe Smith) and it stuck in my subconscious.
 
I was shopping inside a tatty supermarket in a dead, bleak city. It’s a big store with a long, low ceiling and the grimy plate-glass windows overlook a concrete canyon with an underpass at the bottom. There must be 30 checkout desks and I am at the end checkout. The cashier is an elderly man and behind him, all the other checkouts are closed but there is a crowd of roughly 30 people, all grouped in a far corner, watching me. The cashier scans my stuff and I go to pay. He hands me a card-reader gadget that looks like a seventies calculator. My card is spat out repeatedly but I know it works as it’s been used earlier in the day. There is a small split in the card but it’s not a big deal. The cashier loses his temper and starts giving me abuse. The crowd of people are still crammed into the far corner of the long, low market. They are watching our interaction with scared faces. I pick up a tin and slam it into the elderly cashiers face. He screams and starts picking up my purchases and throws them blindly. I duck behind the checkout desk. His face is shouting down at me. I reach up and grab him and pull him to the floor. I then pick him up and throw him at the window. The glass smashes but his body hangs there while sharp arrows of glass fall out of the top of the window frame and land on his back. The thunder and roar of the traffic below fills the supermarket. I go over and pick his legs up. He slithers out of my grip and falls out of the building to the underpass below.
 
Had two dreams that I can remember, one that seemed significant but isn't and the other that seemed trivial but later seemed connected to something real...

1.
Dreamed I was at our local park, which we cycle through now and then. I was on foot and had become separated from Techy, who was walking around the outside instead of inside for some reason.

I saw a big shopping bag on the path and stopped to look inside. There were various magazines and several pairs of those big leather work gloves that look like mediaeval gauntlets.

I thought 'I'm 'aving them!', meaning the gloves, and picked up the whole bag.

Techy rang me and I arranged to meet him beside the ice cream stand, and I told him I'd get there first and buy us a Magnum each. The woman told me they were £1.60 and I grumbled because I thought they were only £1.50. She said 'VAT!'
As I was considering what to do, because I'd wanted two white ones and two milk choc ones for us, Techy came along and bought us a white one each. I was showing him the gloves when I woke up.

Work gloves? Ice creams? Phones that work in dreams - isn't that supposed to be impossible?

2.
At some previous point in the night I'd woken up from a dream where I'd seen a row of drum sticks (musical ones) standing up on a shelf. They were in two groups, a bit untidy. As I passed I deftly picked up two sticks and made off with them.

This didn't make any sense as I'm not a drummer and wouldn't have a use for them. Just now though we were watching a Led Zeppelin concert on TV and got talking about the late John Bonham, who died at the ridiculously young age of 32.

Had a look at his Wiki page and saw a photo of his grave, with drum sticks left on it by his fans. They looked just like the ones I'd dreamed about, standing up in two untidy rows.

Here's the picture - grave
Now that IS a bit weird.
 
My dreams have been vivid in this season of hours-adjustment. They just evaporate, usually, leaving a pleasant glow or - more often - a baleful atmosphere behind them, their substance gone. Brain-farts!

Last night's was different and came just around dawn. I woke up around six, made a conscious attempt to fix the first part of it in my brain and got another hour of slumber before the summons to work. I now forget exactly where the intermission came.

It was a heavy one, though without much immediate emotional content. I was an observer of my own crisis in this alarming scenario. The scene was a desert-country, Islamic implied by the dress of some participants. I was with a group of insurgents in a very splendid trench. It was almost prehistoric in its build: above us, a gigantic tablet of stone was held by some mysterious force to an arching outcrop above. Impossible as geology, I watched it, horrified but impressed by its protective power. I sat with my back to the enemy, sometimes turning to observe the lack of action on the desert scene behind.

My attention was on the action of my own side. We had two men who were being treated as prisoners, though they were meant to be our own men. Maybe they were deserters or cowards but it was their horrid fate to be repeatedly dashed against the rocks and thrown back down into the trench, when they failed to scale the rocky hill behind. This happened several times and so violently that they could not realistically have survived. They were merely mocked for wetting themselves. Their voluminous somewhat-Arabian? garments seemed designed merely to demonstrate how much piss they could vent under pressure.

At this point, I went over-the-top and found myself in an area quite different from the desert landscape I expected. I also had a different quest, to make contact with a middle-aged woman who was occupying a bed-sit in a building that could have been a hall of residence. She barely registered in the narrative. My urgent need was to make some fried potato cubes. These had to be very small indeed and flavoured with the right mix of salt, paprika and herbs. I had to chop them on the dirty quilt of the occupant. At first her germs worried me. Then I began to get hungry and the tiny cubes started to take on the texture of cooked potato. The close-up detail of this section was quite remarkable. The tiny cubes fell on the floor and I gave up worrying about her toenails in the mixture . . .

The phone rang at this point, preventing further intimacy. :eek:
 
I've been browsing this forum with fascination for the past few days, and it seems to be giving my brain ideas for new and interesting nightmares. I've just had my first terrifying experience of sleep paralysis, and I thought it might be cathartic to sign up and post about it.

It started out as an ordinary dream; I was on this forum, reading about someone's UFO experiences. They described music being an integral part of the phenomenon. Then I became aware that I was in bed, and lo and behold, I heard music. It was a song I'm familiar with, and it seemed to sweep over me, starting from the foot of the bed, growing louder as it approached my head, then sweeping back down to my feet again. I had the distinct impression that I was being scanned, that someone was measuring my brain's response to the music.

Then I woke up – or at least, my eyes opened. I was paralysed, and staring at a collection of jackets hanging from the front of the wardrobe, which morphed into a short, squat, and unbearably creepy little man. He charged straight at me, but seemed to get 'stuck' on the foot of the bed, like a glitchy video game character, and just kept running on the spot, staring at me all the while. I tried to call (well, scream) for help, but of course I could barely open my mouth. Eventually, the little man merged back into the jackets, and normality was restored.

So yeah, that was it. I blame you guys for filling my head with all this stuff.

One question, though: I've read about sleep paralysis, and the associated visions of shadow men or old women, but I aways thought they just stood and looked at you; I didn't realise they could be quite so energetic. I mean, this guy was really running full-pelt, for all that he wasn't going anywhere. Is this normal?
 
But seriously, welcome to the bored. And sorry for polluting your synapses. It'll do you good in the long run. Trust me.
 
Steerpike said:
I've been browsing this forum with fascination for the past few days, and it seems to be giving my brain ideas for new and interesting nightmares. I've just had my first terrifying experience of sleep paralysis, and I thought it might be cathartic to sign up and post about it.

It started out as an ordinary dream; I was on this forum, reading about someone's UFO experiences. They described music being an integral part of the phenomenon. Then I became aware that I was in bed, and lo and behold, I heard music. It was a song I'm familiar with, and it seemed to sweep over me, starting from the foot of the bed, growing louder as it approached my head, then sweeping back down to my feet again. I had the distinct impression that I was being scanned, that someone was measuring my brain's response to the music.

Then I woke up – or at least, my eyes opened. I was paralysed, and staring at a collection of jackets hanging from the front of the wardrobe, which morphed into a short, squat, and unbearably creepy little man. He charged straight at me, but seemed to get 'stuck' on the foot of the bed, like a glitchy video game character, and just kept running on the spot, staring at me all the while. I tried to call (well, scream) for help, but of course I could barely open my mouth. Eventually, the little man merged back into the jackets, and normality was restored.

So yeah, that was it. I blame you guys for filling my head with all this stuff.

One question, though: I've read about sleep paralysis, and the associated visions of shadow men or old women, but I aways thought they just stood and looked at you; I didn't realise they could be quite so energetic. I mean, this guy was really running full-pelt, for all that he wasn't going anywhere. Is this normal?
Click to expand...
I've seen shadow people/hallucinations/whatever moving briskly but never running towards me ..
 
We spent Saturday cycling along the north Wales coast in high winds. A notable highpoint was trying to coast downhill on the Great Orme into a steady gale which kept us not only still but also upright.
There are super sea views there and we enjoyed looking down over the sea wall for the seal pups which have been born there recently. Their mothers leave them hidden on the rocky beach while they go off for fish so the local seal-watchers keep a close eye on them.

Anyway... that night I was dreaming about looking over the sea wall for seals but instead there were DRAGONS. Big Welsh fire-breathing dragons, fast asleep and snoring, with smoky nostrils.
I'd spot one and back carefully away in case I woke it up and things got fiery.

Techy relived more of the cycling aspect of the day. He watched people pumping up bike tyres, which grew fatter and fatter until the bikes broke loose and soared away. Techy shouted 'That's not right! Bikes can't fly!'
 
I recall a snatch of an unpleasant dream from a couple of nights ago: I had entered a large, dark bare room with stone walls and floor, and was intending to search it for reasons I can't now remember. The space was cool and full of dense mist. I had in my hands my old 4-cell Maglite torch which was doing a good job of illuminating the room.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed. The temperature in the room began dropping rapidly and the darkness and fog seemed to begin to defeat the powerful beam of light from my torch. I became frightened, to the extent that I woke my wife with my distress noises. She touched my arm and I awoke, not at all sorry to be back in safety.

maximus otter
 
I was having a conversation with 3 men who said they had once been elves. They said they had come from a place called Elfonia and it was the equivalent of our heaven.
 
I dreamt of @Swifty last night!

I was on a trip with a bunch of guys from Sweden. I didn't know where we were going but it turned out to be Cromer. There had been some sort of festival happening and we were going for the last few days of it. A large portion of the town was trashed. There was a central bit with loads of bars and pubs all squeezed together in the cobbled back streets. We were warned to avoid that bit as it was still pretty rough there with the leftovers from the festival crowd.

We checked into a shitty hotel and I got the hump for some reason. So I left the other lads and went off walking. I soon met up with some others that I knew and suddenly we were in front of a large house with a dark blue door. I just knew it was Swifty's house. So I knocked and he answered. We hugged and slapped each others shoulders as if we were old friends. I was calling him Iain for some reason (is that your name Swifty?) - Iain Swift?

Anyway, he showed us around his house. It was a massive and palatial sprawling house - over many floors and many different corridors and landings. Huge, hanging crystal chandeliers, sweeping staircases, royal blue carpets and gold trimmings. We met his lovely wife who was called Charlotte. I asked about the house and Charlotte said that she had inherited it and that she and Swifty were busy doing it up to sell. They couldn't afford to live in it because it was so huge and expesive to run.

We had tea (I think) - we drank something anyway and then Swifty said he had to go out with the dog. So we went for a walk around the "rough" bit of Cromer - the festval/drinking area. It was awash with broken glass, trashed picnic tables, vomit and stumbling men. We pushed through and out onto the cliffs overlooking the sea. The sun was just breaking through rain clouds.

But unfortunately I woke up then. Still, it was great to meet you Swifty.

Edit: Edited for spelling. As usual.
 
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