Pointing at him (a #dream)

Going through old notes, I found this dream I apparently had, back in 2011:

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'Don't be afraid and just come along. How about we make a deal: if you don't like it, you can just leave.'

The young man allowed himself to be carried away and was admitted through a low hatch in the side of the building via a steep slide that ended at a few old pale green cushions that just did not sufficiently break his fall.

As he slowly stood up and rubbed his aching tailbone, he saw small dining tables all around him, like the round two-person tables in a romantic restaurant. Each table was neatly set with bright white damask, silver cutlery and a red rose in a tall silver glass vase that seemed ready to fall over at any moment. At each table sat a man and a woman, dressed as if they were going to watch the ballet after dinner.

The dozens of tables in the dimly lit basement were so close together that it was a good thing that the traditionally dressed waitress was quite thin. But she still sometimes had to struggle to squeeze between two tables to take an order.

Above his head he heard a cruel female voice say: 'I like the way number six is ​​conditioned but what should we do with him?'

When he looked up he saw the woman pointing at him.

The Wig (a #dream)

 It was the seventies and the seventies were in the future.

A powerful device was invented and two competing companies wanted it. 

One of them was owned by an alien. The name of the company was something like Evencalibur. 

The inventor wanted to sell them his or her patent but was too eager therefore selling it for too little.

Which made the new owner laugh about it to his assistant who was dressed in white and and looked very much like the partner of his competitor who was dressed in black.

The patent was stored in an old folder which contained dozens of notes and other papers. All signed at the bottom left corner with the date top right in pencil.

He knew he was lucky to have it on paper because all electronic files were lost. When he took it out to have it signed by himself and his assistant and have both their picture taken as evidence that the patent was now his, she tried to kill him. Or was it the wife of his competitor? Anyhow, he was lying on his back when he managed to get hold of a knife and lunged it over his left shoulder, stabbing her in the chest. 

Trying to say something she fell to the floor and he used the invention on himself, getting ready for a press conference. Looking in the mirror he got stared at by a younger version of himself and ran to his study where there was a child who was also his brother/friend/business partner and who told him: "That is the wig my father gave me!"

Little again (a dream)

Paid a vacation visit to a senior great aunt with two adult daughters and a few teenagers (grandchildren?) One of them a special needs kid wearing a loose grey/blue dress. The scene seemed to take place at a camping site or in a trailer park. There was a table holding extremele long hotdogs with ketchup and union already on them. A yellow plastic tablecloth. 

Upon waking up the next morning I wanted to make coffe for the group but some man had just beaten me to it. Two souls, one thought. Smiling at me he walks away and hugs his boyfriend: "Hotdog? Unions?" "Please", he says.

It is still early but already scorching hot.

So I borrow slippers because it's too hot for shoes. Part of the group walks off the terrain and I follow while a few elderly follow me at a short distance. The group takes pictures of the complex. Lined up, all dressed in white. Including a in my dream well known paparazzi. His camera looks like a game controller. Black with an adjustable and curved piece of glass/see through mirror at the handle by his right hand.

They pay no attention to the hillside that is the landscape. That's obviously dehydrated. With a few scattered dead plants.

Every brick building is brand new and there are lots of stairs. I stop to make pictures. From buildings beautifully lit by the bright sunlight. And from curious passersby. One of them glances at me. Brunette with semi-long, curly hair, bright eyes and slightly tanned skin. I take a picture of her and she (Sylvie?) smiles.

We arrive at a playground that is huge. Enormous slides, hanging walkways and a lot of wooden stairs. I loose track of the group and see a few signs: 'Big Way->'. But no sign of the group.

There's a rope way with sturdy BMX-like bikes hanging from it. All blue. The bikes are being pulled up by a semi-automatic pully system. Young folk ride them through a complicated path above the ground. There are solid blue nets to catch them, might they fall while racing down the path. Over walk bridges and planks.

The special needs teen walks towards an attraction. She pushes aside a boy. Roughly.

Next moment I'm 'home'. Where someone turns on the tv-set. No image because there appears to be no power. Some conman pretends to go in a trance and the two adult daughters suddenly act like four year olds, sitting on the floor, holding on to people's and table's legs.

While a voice appears to come from the television. The shadowy figure demands money from my great aunt 'or else...'

Intimidating some vague paper cut-out makes its way from the back of the set to the glass at the front:

"Look, something paranormal is going on because my children suddenly became little again!"

 

Our own phone (a dream)

There's this shop. Not open because there are no goods to sell. Counter on the left, big window on the right. New window and new (white) tiling as if being completely rebuild. Messy floor with a lot  of dirt.

Behind the window and on the outside, angled and 'looking up' a gold coloured dented plate with inscriptions in an ancient text. Mayan maybe.

With the owner - an Asian man - seeing a woman in the far right corner of the shop. Obviously in distress. Going down with her. Meeting people who apparently live below ground. We want to help the (Caucasian) woman. There's a raccoon stuck to her side. 

Not that the animal is clinging to her but actually part of her right side. The woman cries: 'Don't kill it, it wants to live and so do I.' While the shop owner and I think of ways to detach the raccoon without killing either one, someone hits the raccoon in the back with an axe. It's detached from the woman now and dying, with the axe still lodged in its back, it crawls towards the far left corner of the underground tent (?) we're in. Revealing a big and bloody gap in the woman's side. 

At the dinner table (still underground) the three of us discover we switched our phones. And decide to switch them back because we all want our own phone.

Inside (a dream)

We decided to move from The Netherlands. It was my family, including my father, and some friends. Since I never knew my actual father, the father figure in the dream was portrayed by a former father-in-law. Who used to smile when I called him 'dad' as his own children stopped doing so when they were still little.

We had a stopover in Belgium, the French speaking part as I seem to remember from the dream. A beautiful landscape with lots of hills and trees and we parked the cars, van and/or truck next to an abandoned farm. What struck me as odd was that there were no animals. Not even birds.

Did the animals all flee because they knew something we didn't? But why did we actually flee ourselves? While some of our group of some twenty people took refuge in the farmhouse and shed, I decided to sleep outside. Apparently on a very high waterbed. That obviously sprung a leak as suddenly I rolled to one side, barely hanging on to avoid landing a few meters down into a muddy pool.

Next moment I stood on a rooftop with somebody - an indistinct woman in mainly brown clothes and some kind of headscarf covering her hair - pointing out some sights to me. Distant trees and hills, an ancient church...She had me point my camera or binoculars to my right side because there was a beautiful - and amazingly clean - window. Or rather a collection of windows. In it was the reflection of a magnificent landscape, adorned with a wide array of very peaceful animals. The reflected sky was of a beautiful blue hue and the clouds looked like they were painted by one of the old Dutch Masters who were famous for painting beautiful clouds. 

Could this be heaven? I never found out because it started to rain and according to my companion the rain was dangerous so we had to make our way inside.