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.

Left (a #dream)

My daughters, my son and me were strolling around a marketplace in some foreign country. Perhaps India, an African country, South-East Asia? We stopped at a stand that had all kinds of different wallets in a handmade rush basket. My son told me he had just bought a clipping purse: 'It took me a long time to find one in plain black, dad. Hope you get more lucky.' Usually clipping purses are more square shaped but the only black one I found was an elongated one with a black tassle dangling from it. 'I'll just cut that off when we get home', I thought.  And bought it, while my daughters went for more colourful purses with handknitted beads and fine stitchwork.

Next moment I was in a hospital where I knew my children were walking around and so was I. In one of the pavillions I was walking around in my hospital gown when a nurse grapped me by my sleeve, dragging me and urging with handgestures, facial expressions and in a language I did not understand: 'Come, you must come. With me. Now!' Apparently the staff was ordered to find me because they could not reach me by phone.

We half ran through long, empty and pure white corridors and the nurse pointed me to a door: 'Open'.

To my surprise there were over a dozen people there, staring at me, not knowing how to look. Was it my birthday and this a surprise party? I smiled and took the only empty seat in a room. Next to a young female nurse who acted as an interpreter. One by one different specialists told me the findings of the tests they performed on me. I patiently listened to them all, occassionaly thanking the interpreter. Until she stammered: 'And the conclusion...the conclusion is...You have two, maybe three days to live.'

My immediate response was a big grin and happily exclaiming: 'Great! That's more than one!' Before I asked: 'Has anyone called my mom to tell her?', not realizing that even in my dream my mother had passed away some years earlier.

My next thought was to get dressed, see my children and to spend as much time with them as was left.

Baseball bat (a dream)

Because he drew the shortest straw, it was now up to him to clear the debris field surrounding the ship.

Looking at his monitor he saw how a living ship, attracted by The Tree, folded itself around the 'tree trunk' of the ship he had called home since his early childhood. Slowly the top and bottom 'hat' of his mushroom shaped ship sneaked up upon the unsuspecting, now almost liquid ship, gently squeezing the life out of her. It succumbed. Its wires and plates withering as if they were dying parts of a once beautiful plant.

A window formed a dew drop and in it, he detected a shape. A small, human shape. The drop burst open and out fell a baby. Which he caught in his arms. Although he didn't have to as the ground of the planet he was standing on, was mostly covered in a soft, dark green kind of moss.

They raised the baby if she were their own. Which of course she was. Knowing she would live a full live in just and exactly 311 days, they decided to skip basic survival training and only teach her the basics: how to read of course. Not only letters but also emotions. From humans and animals alike. Music and poetry, dance and archery were part of the daily curriculum. 

Her brother-in-law acted as her partner in a make-believe Prom they set up for her. Although schools were a thing of the past and there were only a dozen or so of them left. Although scattered around the planet and throughout the universe more groups of people were likely to exist. Resting on her mother's lap with her father next to them, stroking her hair, she realised she was fortunate, as she gently died. Smiling as she had just seen her brothers and sisters run off to play some game involving a wooden or metal stick that looked like it was an amalgamation of a hockey stick and a baseball bat. 

The moon (a dream)

A generic female figure, representing my mother and other women in my life, took me and a friend of hers on a trip. An adventure, really. We stopped over in Belgium. Where I used my phone to take some pictures. Some of the landscape and some of some tall building I was standing right under. It was a modern building. And I aimed my camera straight up to catch a ray of sunlight that was reflecting beautifully on the stained glass windows of the building that had mostly the colour of bricks but was smooth as concrete but also looked soft.

As the sun was setting, a couple stopped and asked me to have a look at the picture on my screen. They agreed it looked amazing and sharp. They also gave me tips on how to take better pictures. Next moment my mom, the friend and me were walking through some Asian country. At a local market, we noticed a return of punk. At least I did, for my companions were to busy with their conversation, smiling, and apparently reminiscing on the past.

A small group of young punksters were involved in a heated discussion at a small clearing on the market. Before they walked on I noticed one of them was wearing a kind of backpack, or maybe the shape was just part of his clearly homemade black, leather jacket. Which looked more like rubber to me. The figure/backpack was in the shape of a bat with the wings sticking out just below the man's shoulders. Two female punkers - not belonging to the first group - entered a clothing store on what looked like high heels. But looking more closely it was more like they were walking on 30cm high stilts. With the toes in the high 'boots' (black, with gold tribals and some other painted decorations), aiming straight down. So, it looked like they had no feet. 

We walked passed a small harbour that harboured a few fishing boats. I assumed most were out catching fish. Looking to my right and down a little, I noticed some young boys playing with fireworks. One of them threw a piece at us and it exploded in the air with a not so loud bang nearby us. My companions did not seem to notice and I smiled at the boy who threw it. He grinned. My company went into a shop and asked me to wait outside.

I presumed they needed to use the toilet. I planned using the time to look up - anticipating sharing the night with them - the Indonesian phrase "Good night, ladies". I already knew how to say "good night", so all I had to look up was the word "ladies". But before I could do so they had already returned and we continued on our journey.

Next, we were hiking through a jungle. And my mother's friend asked if we would make it in time to the campsite. My mother replied: "Yes, the mud will come. We will get wet and dirty." I pictured us covered in mud and shivering in our shared tent.

Next thing I knew I was on an operating table in a cleanroom. And subjected to some tests. My mother and her friend had already gone through the process and now it was my turn. Before I could take the final stage of the journey they had to be sure if I was able to withstand low gravity and other harsh conditions. Apparently to live on a base on the moon.