Beer brewing (a #dream)

We were in the process of rebuilding society. Rebuilding starts with children. So, in this dream, I was a teacher. A female teacher. In a makeshift classroom; a really, really big room in a part of a building that was still standing after the collapse of society. 

It was filled with hundreds of children, ranging from two until eighteen. A young, male colleague came in later, after I had given an introduction, and apologized for being late. Because there were no more seats, he picked up a little girl with long black hair and a naughty look in her eyes, sat down on her seat and put her on his lap. Only to jump up seconds later: "She just peed in my lap!"

The giggling girl was taken over by a teenage, dark blond female teenager who couldn't stop laughing while my colleague tried to pretend nothing had happened and took over class.

We took turns in teaching the children about moped maintenance - a blue moped with three greasy, white seats in a row served as the item to practice on - and beer brewing. 

Nonetheless (a #dream)

As common in my dreams, also in this dream, I was on the run from the end of the world. Sometimes right after an apocalyps, sometimes witnessing it together with the Woman in my Dreams and sometimes decades after society as we know it had collapsed.

Just trying to survive with a small band of different people: friends, relatives, neighbours, people we picked up along the way. This time our small tribe encountered another group of survivors. Apparently they had decided a woman in their group was responsible for some of their bad luck, called her a witch and decided not to kill her 'because we're not barbarians!'. Instead they condemded her to pulling their old fashioned camper together with their mule. 

Last time we saw them, the mule and the woman - wearing a read, flowery headscarf to keep her long, black hair in place - were pushing the house on wheels through neck deep, murky water and sobbing she almost drowned a couple of times but pushed forward nonetheless. 

Alien language (a #dream)

My old boss asked me to come back to work for him so we sat down for a talk at my old office. To my surprise he didn't ask me to get back to my old job but to become the new CEO as he stepped down. Next I was being set down at a sunny terrace in a foreign country and talked to a friend. Next I was given a tour of the new office building. Like in many previous dreams I got lost in a maze of hallways, lots of corridors with shiny white floors, doors leading to nowwhere and elevators. 

Someone asked me to join them for lunch at the cafeteria where coffee would unlimited and eggs were on special offer and I could only pretend to know where that was. Tried following signs but non made sense to me. As if they were written in an alien language. 

My hair (a #dream)

My son and my mother were sitting next to eachother on my couch. In the course of the dream my son slowly grew older: from 7 until his current age of 29. His grandmother mostly smiled while I did most of the talking.

All this time crows were circling their heads. Until one of them landed on my head and I woke up, still feeling its nails in my scalp, holding on, trying not to slide of my hair.

It still exists (a #dream)

My uncle/cousin came to visit. Decades after we last met so with more wrinkles and grey hair. Since my mother (his sister) couldn't make it, I picked him up from the airport/train- or busstation?

I took him to our place where he helped me sort my vinyl records collection to trade or sell later. Quite a few singles from 70s artists I had four or five from, sometimes in different prints. 'Venus' by Shocking Blue was one of them.

My uncle/cousin and I walked around in the neighbourhood which had been transformed to its seventies version: more dirt on the streets, no bike lanes, more homeless people, more independent run shops, some run by squatters spray painting home build beds.

At an outdoor thrift shop I found two similar paintings, as if embossed in green, shiny ceramics. One depicted what seemed like a man's face, with a different look on his face, depending on how the light fell on the piece. I offered the seller €50 for the two. And he looked surprised. Not sure because I was under- or over offering.

Music coming from a few basements and everyone smiling, save for a guy with dog. A black and white boxer. 

My mother called (from work?), excited to see her brother again soon and asking me if he could sleep in my double bed because it felt a bit awkward to have him sleep with her in her single bed. Of course!

He told me about the adventures he had in his favourite coffeeshop in the seventies and produced a beautiful grin when I texted him it still exists.

Pointing at him (a #dream)

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

===================

'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!"