Song of Storms

Cropped header image by Nik Cyclist under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic.

This morning, I woke up feeling very ill. There didn’t seem to be much else to do but wait for recovery, and so I slept.

In my first dream, I was on holiday in the summertime, staying in a bedroom on the top floor of someone’s two-storey house on the borders of a town at the countryside. The grey sky cast a layer of shadow over the house, and the rain fell lightly outside. I briefly looked out the window, and saw a small park on the ground level, a road outside the house leading both left or right, and rolling hills occasionally interrupted by lines of trees all the way to the horizon.

I was preoccupied with the room itself; I had been here before, in my childhood. It seemed more like I’d grown up here than visited – there were photos of me with people I didn’t recognise framed in the room, and scattered across the floor were items I got a familiar feeling from, ones I remembered from my childhood. I remembered everything from my childhood, and eventually came onto the subject of other dreams. I realised that I was in a dream, thus ending the dream. Continue reading

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Summertime Blues

Cropped header image by Cgoodwin under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported.

Last night I dreamt my family ran a mansion in the middle of the countryside near a verdant canyon; we had somewhat of a reputation for hosting a yearly summer ball. We’d just finished updating the computer systems some time late in the afternoon, and I started the dream in the computer suite finalising the updates with some of the mansion’s other technicians. The update went smoothly, and with no problems, and I left the computer suite to take a rest. Continue reading

Beginning of the End

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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

Story A Day, Day 2 – The Passage of Time

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It was deep summer, August 1983. I was in my twenties then; the most important years of my life had gone by, but I wasn’t done just yet.

I didn’t know what I wanted back then. Without work, education or anyone to hold me back I was free to go wherever I wanted. I’d walk through the forest for miles, I’d follow a river until I got bored, I’d keep heading forward until it got dark.  Continue reading

(Carefree)

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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

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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

1929

Header image by Asher Brown Durand under Public Domain.

Nearly a week ago, I had a dream I thought wasn’t particularly worth mentioning here, until I had a followup dream last night.

It started at the beginning of a summer festival. I was there with several friends, sitting on the grass and listening to the brief opening speech the frontman of the first band to play was making. It was mid to late afternoon; the sunlight was slightly tinted orange but there was no sense of desperation to finish the day’s activities before night fell. We simply enjoyed ourselves for what felt like, and what likely was, several hours. Continue reading