Interesting/Funny Dreams

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
It could have been a fart, so I can understand your childish insistence on it, but it wasn't. Nor was it a burp, for that matter. I think it was rather a noise made with external objects.
 

R. Seltza

Well-Known Member

Callaina

Feles Curiosissima
Just now (well, maybe half an hour ago) I dreamed that I was in a posh house, where, apparently, I lived. I was talking with a boy (maybe around ten years old, but hard to tell) who, at some point, told me something to the effect of "It sucks that you don't even have a swimming pool in the garden behind the house. I know you have one in front of the house" (a swimming pool could indeed be seen through the glass doors) "but you don't have one behind." I replied: "Yes, we do!", and led him to the garden behind the house. But as we got farther and farther into it, there was no swimming pool in sight, and, as we reached the end of it, I was forced to admit that there was none. "But," I said, "look; we have a graveyard and an old church instead; isn't that super cool?" Indeed, below a slope at the top of which we stood, there could be seen a graveyard and a church, with preparations going on in front of the church for an office or religious festival or something like that. (A detail I recall is that portable — but still relatively big, though less than a human's size — white crosses had been put in a box presumably for people to take.) The boy, however, flew into a rage that I had lied to him about the swimming pool. He crossed the garden back to the house while I vainly attempted to placate him. Then, still angry, he spoke to his father, and his father asked me what exactly had happened. I was too ashamed to tell the entire truth — namely, that I had myself thought there was or at least might be a swimming pool behind my own house while there was none — so I told him that I had intentionally lied about the swimming pool in order to surprise the boy with the graveyard etc.; that I'd thought he would like it, though I'd obviously been wrong. Then the father scolded his son saying, "Don't be stupid! What's cooler, a swimming pool or historical, heritage stuff, a graveyard and church and the remains of an old town house?" (Apparently there was that, too, though I hadn't been aware of it.) Then they went away, the boy I know not where, the father, I believe, to the end of the garden and the church etc. After a time, the father came back (we were in a white-walled corridor at this point) driving captured men (I mostly saw one but I think there were two or three) who he said were terrorists. It wasn't clear to me if they really were; they (or at least the one I saw) looked potentially suspicious but I didn't have any proof of their guilt. The father of the boy cut off the man's entire beard with one motion, which made the man's eyes water, and told him things like "You'll see, you'll cooperate with me; you'll have nothing to eat; three hours in that cell will make you look ten years older" (the man already wasn't young). He sounded as if he meant to torture and even perhaps kill them. I was terrified and sorry for the putative terrorists and, standing there crying, I told the boy's father, "Please be a little calmer with them." Then the boy's father came to me, angry that I was trying to defend his captives, and said, "What, you'll share their cell, then?" The captive, apparently moved to see me cry for him, then spoke to me and told me cryptic, half-reassuring, half-potentially-worrying things (if the guy was really a terrorist) along the lines of "Don't worry; it isn't all over."

I woke up actually crying.
Wow, I saw this just now. What an intense dream! o_O
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
Actually, I cried when I woke up after this one, too. That does seem to happen to me every now and then.
 

Pacifica

grammaticissima
Staff member
I dreamed that my mother and I were going to Israel by train. The train was somewhat old (it was said to be from the 1950s) and looked like it might not be very comfortable, especially for such a long journey. Some time after departure, the train stopped at a station. We were walking on the train and saw some commotion up the aisle. It was rumored that something was wrong; a passenger had died. Then other passengers started to drop dead. We thought something on the train was killing people and we must get out of there. We did, without even retrieving our things. From out on the platform we saw people continuing to die inside. It must have been poison or something like that. We thought that, though there was a slight chance that only Jewish passengers had been targeted, it was more likely that everyone who had been on board was going to die, including us. We began to walk apparently aimlessly.

Starting from here the sequence of events is fuzzy in my memory. At some point during the following, a woman I knew (in real life) a few years ago was suddenly with me, and she had been on the train, too. At another point, my mother must have died, but I don't remember witnessing it.

As we walked, we found ourselves in a town or city, where we crossed the French border. Hardly a few meters into French territory, a woman who was with me (she looked like the one I mentioned above, but I'm not sure it was her) lay down on the ground, shouted "Bring the (white? some color, not quite sure which) gown; I'm a cross-border dead!" and died. (Apparently, in that dream-world, bodies of people who died in foreign territory were marked with a white (?) gown.)

I began walking again. It's uncertain who, if anyone, was with me at this point. It seems I was still talking to someone, though, but perhaps I was just talking to myself. I said (or thought) that I didn't know where I was (apart from the fact I was probably still in France). I was going to die without even knowing where I was. Having no papers on me and not even being in my own country, I wondered if people would be able to identify my body. At least, my mother (apparently already dead) wouldn't see me die and maybe she had been the only one who might have cared anyway. I don't know if I was still in the dream or if I had already woken up when I thought the logical thing to do to make sure my body didn't remain unidentified was to speak to someone before I died. In any case, I woke up at about this point.
 
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Terry S.

Quaestor
Staff member
Who needs cheese and pickles at bedtime when we have a Covid pandemic to twist our melon while asleep.

BTW, I think rather more than a few of us would care if you pegged out.
 

Terry S.

Quaestor
Staff member
Last night I dreamed that a friend of mine had become divided into two people, his present self and his younger self and I was trying to take them both out to dinner. I managed to get them into the restaurant but they wouldn't sit together with me. It seemed that the younger one didn't like the older one.
 

Callaina

Feles Curiosissima
I had a very short dream right before waking up (really more like a dream fragment) where I, and all the members of my family, were trying to guess the names of politicians who had been implicated in some sort of international scheme (I think my dad knew the answer and he wanted to see if we could guess?) I think my mom and sister tossed out a bunch of names one would expect (like Trump and so forth), and then I said, "Oh! Ria [or maybe Rita?] Casselby [or maybe Castleby?]!" At this point I woke up, and when I tried Googling that name just now, nothing came up (in any of its combinations).
 

Iáson

Cívis Illústris
Maybe it was a prophecy.
 
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