Port Town

Last night, I dreamt I could fly again, even if it felt more like a limitless jump than flying.

With a running jump, I exited the atmosphere, and saw the stars, the sun, the universe; most interesting was a giant planet right behind the earth, unseen from my home country, orbiting the earth around the sun in a new binary system. The planet was ten times larger than Earth, though there were very few lights on the continents of the new planet, mostly around the coast. I felt my feet touch down on the planet’s atmosphere, and…it was solid, almost like perfectly transparent glass. I slid right off the atmosphere of the planet, right back down into the earth’s atmosphere.  Continue reading

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Will ‘o the Wisp

Header image by Stan Dalone and Miran Rijavec under Creative Commons 2.0.

Last night I dreamt I was a student at some sort of school, training people to seek out mythical creatures of all kinds; I’d specialised in ghosts and ghost-like beings, and I was given a month to bring back one such being. Most people formed into groups or partnered up with other people; I partnered up with a classmate. We agreed that we wouldn’t look for anything in particular, just that we’d try and bring back whatever we saw. Continue reading

Beginning of the End

Cropped header image by Šarūnas Burdulis under Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike 2.0 Generic.

Last night I dreamt I lived on an Earth in a corrupted timeline, a universe that only had a month left before the end of time.

There existed three large moons around the planet; Luna, Celeste and Kingmaker. The existence of Luna was standard, though Celeste and Kingmaker were both unique to this Earth; I didn’t know how either of them had gotten their names, but it was told that they would only appear in the sky near the end of the world. What this meant was a complete mystery to everyone and what to do about it even more so, but in this dream it fell down to me to do something about it. I wasn’t sure how or why, but deep down something told me that it was up to me to fix this universe to keep it in existence using the appearances of the three moons in existence. Continue reading

Snowfall II

Cropped header image by Sharnikarnikhil88.

I’ve had many dreams about snowfall, and I’ve posted about many, but every single time I can’t help but be overcome by the atmosphere. The wonderful rush of excitement from just looking around, the joyful looks on everyone’s faces, the gentle snowfall that only comes once every few years, the lights on the buildings that show when night falls. I remember a Christmas festival on a high street in a nearby town I was very familiar with. It wasn’t a memory of a real event, but as a memory it works almost as well as one. It was mid-December, the best time of the year for such a festival. After shopping at a nearby clothing store and a brief stop in another shop to switch coats out of the cold, I was wearing a stylish slim white winter jacket with faux-fur lining in places; not my style at all usually, but in this dream it felt amazing to wear, a welcome change from what I usually have. From here until afternoon it was as it always is in festivals – exploring, buying, sightseeing. One sight that I particularly remember was a church spire at late morning covered in snow and Christmas lights barely visible in the daylight yet still visible.

Daylight started to fade mid-afternoon. I remember an orange sunset between 3 and 4pm that drew almost as much attention as the Christmas lights it exposed. By 5pm it was completely dark and the lights and lamp-posts were all there was for visibility. Light snow continued to fall and people continued to wander the street, and none of the stalls were showing any signs of packing up and leaving. This was the highlight of the event; the busy hour, their perfect white Christmas. The next day was a letdown compared to this, but I still remember my last snow-covered sight before I turned around to go home, of the stalls on the street, the houses and their lights on the rooves, converging towards the horizon.

It’s been years since it snowed here. I know it brings this country to a standstill, but if it ever happened again I’d definitely appreciate it.

Canopy

Header image by Jsayre64 under Creative Commons Attribute-Share Alike 3.0 Unported.

I’m having trouble sleeping, so instead I’ll recall last night’s dream from almost 24 hours ago now.

The dream as a whole was another dream about returning to my old school, again with its own twist. Nothing particularly special, but still, I remember it well. Continue reading

(Carefree)

Header image by Niceley under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International.

I remember last night’s dream clearly as well – only the second in what feels like months.

It was similar to last night’s dreamlog – I started in a building with three people I used to be friends with. I was a little older than I was in The Old School Festival, but not much older – the two dreams could even be linked. I remember the building fairly well for what it was – it could have been a college or university building, and maybe at that point I was looking for a college or university to go to. The building was somewhat labyrinthine – enough for me to only remember the last part of the building, where one corridor split into three parallel corridors. We all played in the corridors for a while, running around and so on…not the best way to show we were higher education material, but we were having fun. Continue reading

The End of School Festival

Header image by Mti under Creative Commons Attribute-Share Alike 3.0 Unported.

So, I remember having another dream about a month ago. For a dream, one of my dreams, it isn’t particularly special nor is it a new scenario. Yet, it remains in my mind. It’s always there at the back, telling me to write it down. If I still remember it over everything else I’ve dreamed over the last few months, then I will write.

I was back at school again – the end of secondary school, to be precise – or high school, depending on what you call it. It was the final day of school and the first day of summer – the final bell rang and we ran outside. Not power-walked, not paced, ran.

The end of school festival. Continue reading