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What Did You Dream Of Last Night?

I had a dream that felt oddly like a premonition last night.

As background, I have a friend who I have known since we were both about 20 (she was a friends girlfriend). We were always good friends, being part of a larger group, but we shared a sense of humour.
After losing contact with her about 20 years ago when I moved to WGC I then discovered (about 3 years ago) that she had moved out to Australia, married, started a family etc, some years previous, all through a chance appearance on Facebook.
So we have been back in contact on occasion for chats about her wanting to come back to the UK.

In my dream last night I was with her, celebrating her 60th birthday at a party with a big group of our old friends.
 
I had a dream that felt oddly like a premonition last night.

As background, I have a friend who I have known since we were both about 20 (she was a friends girlfriend). We were always good friends, being part of a larger group, but we shared a sense of humour.
After losing contact with her about 20 years ago when I moved to WGC I then discovered (about 3 years ago) that she had moved out to Australia, married, started a family etc, some years previous, all through a chance appearance on Facebook.
So we have been back in contact on occasion for chats about her wanting to come back to the UK.

In my dream last night I was with her, celebrating her 60th birthday at a party with a big group of our old friends.
You are subconsciously wishing to go back to happier, younger days!
 
So, I am totally unattracted to electric cars, having driven one and hated it, so imagine my surprise when last night I dreamt that I had bought (only yesterday mind) a bright red Tesla car, and for only £1000! I brought it home and parked it over the road, in front of some houses (which are totally different to the houses that are actually there).
And I was dead chuffed about it too.
So chuffed that I was keen to show the car to my father the next day (that's my father who died in 2017).
So we went outside and ....dang....it had been stolen!

Don't you hate it when you buy a car you don't want and your dead father doesn't get to see it because someone nicked it?
You are decidedly worried about something that you think your deceased father would not approve of.
 
Not last night but during one of the many nights I had in isolation last week I dreamt that I was fighting medical people trying to remove my teeth when it was supposed to be my knee.
You fear having medical problems, and do not trust doctors.
 
I had a wild one last night.

I was watching a movie and started at the second half. It was about these giant viruses/bacteria that were 4-6 feet long/around/whatever-amorphous-shape-you're-thinking-of-right-now.

They were all bright pink and they could move through objects. The second half was all about how the Earth was enveloped in this one, giant, living virus. It produced giant eyes with legs that could be seen walking around, then being reabsorbed.

I was excited to learn that they'd replay the movie soon, so I could catch the first bit. It had something to do with a woman being captured (bear in mind that this had a campy, '80's vibe to it) and the virus fed on her, but the cultists supporting the virus didn't want it to kill her because she had to be sacrificed in some ceremony. Also, apparently humans need 6 "shots" to survive the virus. There was a powerful family involved in the cult/bringing this virus to the world.

Next thing I know, I'm not exactly in the movie, but now their world is mine. My comforter became infected so I threw it out of my bedroom into the hallway. Suddenly I realize I need to check in on my roommate, so I open my door quickly and leap over the now-moving comforter into the living room.

Roommate starts getting attacked (there are several ways this can happen, one is to have sort of skeins of yarn chase up your body) but I know that to save him, all I have to do is pull/rip the pieces of "yarn" off him. He's saved, then I get an idea....

I order the virus that infected my comforter to the "time-out" chair. It had been bad, so it needed an hour timeout. It slunk over to the chair atop a dining table (for no apparent reason). Over time, it separated into two tiny discs, hanging on a Christmas tree. I somehow got the discs into freezer bags and they appeared dead after being frozen solid.

My roommate was leaving with another friend and I asked him to throw the "former" virus in the dumpster. He said, "Hell no! I'm not getting anywhere near that again!"

Whelp, any Freudians want to take a gander at that one? :D
You are starting out with fearing the virus, but worse is the yarn - which represents warmth and comfort, which you are yearning for, but which keeps escaping you.
Sounds very much as if you have had enough of hearing about the virus (haven't we all!), and want your happy, comfortable life back.
 
I was in the early stage of a post=apocalyptic situation. Power out, likely permanently, people were starting to break up into smaller groups but still co-operating.
Subconsciously, you are worrying about the state of world affairs, and the break-up of society and countries.
 
You are decidedly worried about something that you think your deceased father would not approve of.
No I'm really not.
I have very few worries and bumble along through life without much issue.
And I never had concern about what either of my parents approved of, or not.
 
No I'm really not.
I have very few worries and bumble along through life without much issue.
And I never had concern about what either of my parents approved of, or not.
Your dreams come from the subconscious, which is always thinking for us.
 
Could be but I also watch a lot of grim films & TV shows! Although even in my conscious mind I worry about the state of the world.
Wells dreams can be very odd things - I have the same dream over and over. I see a dog who is put into a large crate, and he is kept there at night. He is not mistreated, but he feels trapped.
The dog represents me, feeling trapped in our present situation.
 
Trevp666 said:
had a dream about a penguin wearing slippers shouting at you because you've eaten all the cherries.
______________________
Hmmm, now that can have all kinds of meanings!! :)
 
I think the subconscious is extremely interesting, because it is always watching, and thinking, and protecting us.
On more than a few occasions, it has come forward to 'speak' for me - for instance, if someone says something to me which I take as aggressive or threatening, I find myself saying something back, which I had no conscious thought of, or meant to say.
I feel that it is always ready to protect me.
 
I was visiting my Mum over the weekend. I woke up at 5 am, hearing a noise. So I went into the hallway to have a look. I could see someone waving a torch around outside. I looked out of the window at my car but saw nothing. I then heard a noise - my Mum was awake and shuffling about as well, so I told her about the torch.
Then I went back to bed and had an odd dream. In the dream, I'd been shopping and returned to my car, only to find that it was loaded up with rusty scrap metal and blacksmithing tools. I looked away and back at the car, which had magically transformed into a big van, with the rusty metal still inside. I drove this lumbering van around, looking for a place of origin for this metal. I found an antiques emporium down a side road and spoke to the owner about my car. He explained that my car was cursed to be a van unless I paid him a fee. Clearly, he was running a supernatural racket to make extra money. I made a part-payment by trading in all the scrap metal and antique tools.
Leaving the antiques emporium, I bumped into Jamie Lee Curtis (but much younger) - whereupon she did a bit of outrageous flirting and asked me out... I was completely taken aback, told her 'no'. Dream ended there.
 
I was visiting my Mum over the weekend. I woke up at 5 am, hearing a noise. So I went into the hallway to have a look. I could see someone waving a torch around outside. I looked out of the window at my car but saw nothing. I then heard a noise - my Mum was awake and shuffling about as well, so I told her about the torch.
Then I went back to bed and had an odd dream. In the dream, I'd been shopping and returned to my car, only to find that it was loaded up with rusty scrap metal and blacksmithing tools. I looked away and back at the car, which had magically transformed into a big van, with the rusty metal still inside. I drove this lumbering van around, looking for a place of origin for this metal. I found an antiques emporium down a side road and spoke to the owner about my car. He explained that my car was cursed to be a van unless I paid him a fee. Clearly, he was running a supernatural racket to make extra money. I made a part-payment by trading in all the scrap metal and antique tools.
Leaving the antiques emporium, I bumped into Jamie Lee Curtis (but much younger) - whereupon she did a bit of outrageous flirting and asked me out... I was completely taken aback, told her 'no'. Dream ended there.
You are dreaming about 'Halloween' (the Jamie Lee Curtis movie), and all the metal and tools are frightening to you, they look dangerous, so you dumped them -
Whereupon Curtis came along to thank you! :)
 
You are dreaming about 'Halloween' (the Jamie Lee Curtis movie), and all the metal and tools are frightening to you, they look dangerous, so you dumped them -
Whereupon Curtis came along to thank you! :)
Yes, it's possible that when I saw her, I thought of horror films and 'noped out of there'.
 
I just remembered parts of a dream I had a few nights ago, while I was staying in an old Regency hotel. It was all very Agatha Christie, and the events played out in the hotel itself. A surgeon was operating on a young woman and had to leave a little white cube (quite soft, like cotton wool) in the wound in her abdomen for some sort of antiseptic reason, which he did, then he sewed her up. He then realised that he had made a mistake, and inserted the wrong cube - the one that he actually inserted was poison. He had time to make up for the mistake, but found out that the young woman was the daughter of a sworn enemy of his, so he left the poison in, and she died. There then followed an Agatha Christie-style investigation in which I was the detective, but I don't remember much about that bit. I got him bang to rights though!
 
I just remembered parts of a dream I had a few nights ago, while I was staying in an old Regency hotel. It was all very Agatha Christie, and the events played out in the hotel itself. A surgeon was operating on a young woman and had to leave a little white cube (quite soft, like cotton wool) in the wound in her abdomen for some sort of antiseptic reason, which he did, then he sewed her up. He then realised that he had made a mistake, and inserted the wrong cube - the one that he actually inserted was poison. He had time to make up for the mistake, but found out that the young woman was the daughter of a sworn enemy of his, so he left the poison in, and she died. There then followed an Agatha Christie-style investigation in which I was the detective, but I don't remember much about that bit. I got him bang to rights though!
Seems that you are undecided about someone you know - are they friend or foe, you swing back and forth on that,
and are still not sure.
 
Horrible one last night. I haven't watched any Hellraiser film for many years, but cenobites were wandering around my place of work doing horrible things to people in their own inimitable style - I didn't recognise any of the people being vicitimised and somehow managed to avoid being vivisected myself, although I was completely terrified. Then the cenobites turned on one of their own and essentially flayed it down to a (still-living) skull, which was very similar to an alien skull from the Alien films (I haven't watched one of them in a long time either, though probably more recently than I've seen Hellraiser). As the alien-cenobite was being "punished", I felt enormous pity for it, in spite of the horror it had inflicted on my fellow dream inhabitants. The dream seemed to last all night.
 
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A far less bizzare dream than usual for me, in the early hours;
I was, for some reason a pupil at Eaton, but my shirt and blazer were torn. No one mentioned it though. Then I had to escort a younger pupil somewhere as he was in trouble for something. It hammered it down with rain on the way and my umbrella was too small to be of any use and kept folding up around my head. Then the younger boy turned into a white cat and ran off.
 
A far less bizzare dream than usual for me, in the early hours;
I was, for some reason a pupil at Eaton, but my shirt and blazer were torn. No one mentioned it though. Then I had to escort a younger pupil somewhere as he was in trouble for something. It hammered it down with rain on the way and my umbrella was too small to be of any use and kept folding up around my head. Then the younger boy turned into a white cat and ran off.
*spends several minutes making notes*
 
Quite a Fortean one last night:

l was in a city which l knew was Dublin, though it didn’t resemble the real place, and in company with a tall, burly balding man whom l identified as our very own @ramonmercado. (Whom l have never met IRL.)

lt began with us seated by the window in one of those cafés where the front windows open completely, virtually giving free access to the street. The road in front of the café was cobbled. They had run out of coffee, and l was grizzling about my need for caffeine. “Ramon” somehow arranged for a woman out in the street to acquire a coffee and hand it to me.

Scene shift.

“Ramon” is now driving us out of “Dublin” to meet a friend in the countryside. He’s driving at mental speed while l try and manage my cup of coffee, which is overfull, and in a paper-thin cardboard cup with a leaky sipper lid.

Scene shift.

We’re out in “the country”, and it’s now dark. “Ramon” has parked up, and we meet his mate. Apparently, we are going rabbit shooting with an air rifle, though no rabbits or rifles are ever seen.

We set off walking on grass, with a steep, 20’ high, almost vertical earth bank to our right. Suddenly my two companions start to run, and accelerate until their speed is sufficient to enable them to scale the earth bank with ease. l’m not so fast, and just manage to grasp the edge of top of the bank where “Ramon” and X are now standing, leaving me dangling over a considerable drop. Here’s where it gets weird…

As l’m trying to heave myself up onto safe ground, l note with alarm that the earth on the edge of the path l’m trying to reach is pulsing up and down by two or three inches just to my right.

When l finally attain level ground, l point this out to “Ramon” and X. “Ramon” kicks at the bulging ground, revealing a strange shape. lt’s a crude flat ceramic plate, about A4 size and proportion or possibly a little larger. lt’s pale biscuit in colour, and the surface is coarse and grainy. On the surface is scratched a crude outline of a human figure. lmagine that the gingerbread man from Shrek had been scrawled on wet clay with a knitting needle; that’ll get you quite close.

91CxnEkpvaL._AC_SL1500_.jpg


There are also letters or words on the clay, at the figure’s waist / groin level, running from left to right diagonally, but l can’t read them.

This creature is animated, and is saying something, but l can’t understand it. “Ramon” announces that we are not to read out loud what’s engraved on the clay, because it would free the homunculus, and that would be dangerous. There’s some blue adhesive tape clinging to the clay; we plan to use this to cover the legend, and prevent ourselves from inadvertently reading the text and releasing the creature.

We decide to interrogate it while it’s harmless. l select a stone, and throw it. lt strikes the creature’s forehead, provoking a scowl. l then place my foot on the ceramic plate bearing this odd effigy, and apply pressure as a means of - torture? Its face contorts, its mouth shapes into an “O” of discomfort, and a brownish peanut butter-like substance begins to extrude from the orifice in a perfect cylinder…

Bladder alarm!

maximus otter
 
Quite a Fortean one last night:

l was in a city which l knew was Dublin, though it didn’t resemble the real place, and in company with a tall, burly balding man whom l identified as our very own @ramonmercado. (Whom l have never met IRL.)

lt began with us seated by the window in one of those cafés where the front windows open completely, virtually giving free access to the street. The road in front of the café was cobbled. They had run out of coffee, and l was grizzling about my need for caffeine. “Ramon” somehow arranged for a woman out in the street to acquire a coffee and hand it to me.

Scene shift.

“Ramon” is now driving us out of “Dublin” to meet a friend in the countryside. He’s driving at mental speed while l try and manage my cup of coffee, which is overfull, and in a paper-thin cardboard cup with a leaky sipper lid.

Scene shift.

We’re out in “the country”, and it’s now dark. “Ramon” has parked up, and we meet his mate. Apparently, we are going rabbit shooting with an air rifle, though no rabbits or rifles are ever seen.

We set off walking on grass, with a steep, 20’ high, almost vertical earth bank to our right. Suddenly my two companions start to run, and accelerate until their speed is sufficient to enable them to scale the earth bank with ease. l’m not so fast, and just manage to grasp the edge of top of the bank where “Ramon” and X are now standing, leaving me dangling over a considerable drop. Here’s where it gets weird…

As l’m trying to heave myself up onto safe ground, l note with alarm that the earth on the edge of the path l’m trying to reach is pulsing up and down by two or three inches just to my right.

When l finally attain level ground, l point this out to “Ramon” and X. “Ramon” kicks at the bulging ground, revealing a strange shape. lt’s a crude flat ceramic plate, about A4 size and proportion or possibly a little larger. lt’s pale biscuit in colour, and the surface is coarse and grainy. On the surface is scratched a crude outline of a human figure. lmagine that the gingerbread man from Shrek had been scrawled on wet clay with a knitting needle; that’ll get you quite close.

91CxnEkpvaL._AC_SL1500_.jpg


There are also letters or words on the clay, at the figure’s waist / groin level, running from left to right diagonally, but l can’t read them.

This creature is animated, and is saying something, but l can’t understand it. “Ramon” announces that we are not to read out loud what’s engraved on the clay, because it would free the homunculus, and that would be dangerous. There’s some blue adhesive tape clinging to the clay; we plan to use this to cover the legend, and prevent ourselves from inadvertently reading the text and releasing the creature.

We decide to interrogate it while it’s harmless. l select a stone, and throw it. lt strikes the creature’s forehead, provoking a scowl. l then place my foot on the ceramic plate bearing this odd effigy, and apply pressure as a means of - torture? Its face contorts, its mouth shapes into an “O” of discomfort, and a brownish peanut butter-like substance begins to extrude from the orifice in a perfect cylinder…

Bladder alarm!

maximus otter

Damn fine dream!
 
I had feverish post-vaccination dreams last night. The one I remember is that I was in a dark, spooky stately home, relatively bare of furniture - a substantial house, but not overly extravagant (something along the size of Clandon House or perhaps a little smaller). The house felt very haunted, terrifyingly so, so I ran out the front door and looked back, and a strange voice was calling me, although I could not clearly hear any words. I went back in and was overcome with fear again and left, and again the voice called me (for some reason the voice is associated with a colour in my head - metallic blue). I went back in again, and started to look around for the source of the voice, then realised that I was the one haunting the house ("The Others" style - a film I haven't seen for many years).

The dreams continued all night in a similar vein, and seemed to involve a deserted Buckingham Palace and the ghost of the Queen, but I don't really remember much about all that.
 
Good grief.
I had one of my 'vocal' nightmares last night.
I'm glad my windows weren't open as the weather last night had been forecast to blind it down with rain early morning so I thought I should close them lest I get awoken at some ungodly hour by the noise which comes from the leaky gutter dripping right outside.

Anyhoo.....I can't quite remember what the dream was about, something to do with not being too concerned about punctuality for a school lesson (I'm 56).
And then I was at home, in bed, and there was something malevolent 'trying to get me', like some sort of devil figure hiding behind the curtains.
Then I was trying to scream but no sound was really coming out, but I struggled and eventually managed to shout (in a rather 'pussy weak' way) "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!".
And then I actually woke up with my heart pounding.

I'm absolutely certain that my neighbours must hear my occasional somniloquent outbursts. In my mind I'm shouting/screaming, but I would not be surprised if they actually manifest as nothing more than indistinct loud moaning.
 
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