Dream 99

I was staring at the floor - it was a dusty, wooden floor. There was a mouse hole in the skirting board of the walls and a brown mouse came out and sniffed the air. I watched in silence. I was then standing in the same dark, dusty room, looking into a mirror mounted on the wall at head-height - I appeared as I do in real-life - or at least, I could see no obvious differences in my appearance. There was a small colourless/white blemish by my nose (which is there in real-life - it may be a milk spot - it is gradually disappearing). I squeezed it. The blemish exploded and yellow pus splurted out everywhere. I kept squeezing until my face was bleeding and there was a huge hole by my nose/cheek area. I didn't feel concerned, more relieved that the blemish was gone. I woke up.

Dream Bites #1

With regards to physiology, dream researchers have found that during REM sleep, males almost always experience prolonged penile erections and females experience increased vaginal blood flow (causing clitoral engorgement), uterine contractions and pelvic thrusting, regardless of the dream content. Therefore, genital arousal and ‘wet dreams’ may occur even where the content of the dream is not overtly sexual in nature. These physical 'phenomena' are generally unconnected to sexual desire, often lasting throughout the lifespan of the dreamer and first emerging in early childhood. Sleep paralysis, a feature of REM sleep states, clearly does not apply to the genital area.

Dream 98

This dream was very complex, with various interlinked scenes. I woke up twice during the course of the dream, then fell back asleep. It was one dream as opposed to three - as there was a continuance of fictional dream characters and action. I will mark the parts where I awoke throughout the course of the dream report.

The dream started in Sheringham. I was at my nan's house with her and my mum. Others may also have been present. I sat there talking for awhile and the feeling was calm and pleasant. It was summer, the sky was very light and blue outside the window. I said: "I'd better get the baby back to her dad". The baby, which I was holding in my arms, was newborn and wearing a nappy only, wrapped in a white woollen blanket. Her name was 'Richita'. I walked down the street with the baby in my arms, until I came to the Two Lifeboats Hotel. I went through to the doorway of the pub kitchen, and stood there, looking in, still holding the baby. There were two men, dressed in chef's uniforms, sweeping/mopping the floor. I said: "Where's Ashley?' A small, white male in his 20s emerged from a kneeling position from behind the microwaves/stove, where he had been on the floor, cleaning - it was the end of a shift. He was wearing a white T-shirt and navy baker boy-style hat, with curly blonde hair. He was really friendly and he thanked me for looking after the baby and took her from me. He reminded me of 'Ashley Peacock' the fictional character (a young butcher) played by Steven Arnold in Coronation Street (from 1995 - 2010 - although I do not usually watch this soap opera and my dream 'Ashley' did not have the distinctive squeaky voice of the fictional TV character). I went for a walk. I ended up on a residential street which I do not recognise - it was a long row of identical terraces, all red brick, with tiny little front gardens, fenced off from the pavement. I was standing on the right-side of the pavement, looking up the road, which was on a slight hill. A girl approached me - and although she did not look like her, I realised this was my best friend from high school, SVF. She was dressed in navy and white and her dark brown hair was tied back from her face. We chatted for a moment, standing there on the pavement. I looked into her eyes, closely, and noticed that they were really unusual - the iris was a deep brown colour, with a flash of yellow through it, and below the pupil, at the bottom of the iris, were three coloured dots - yellow, bright blue and red. I thought: 'If I had a MAC face chart I could draw those eyes' (a 'MAC face chart' refers to the sketched template used by MAC makeup artists to create and express new makeup looks or to act as a guide at fashion shows). SVF walked away. I then looked up at the doorway of one of the houses. A male was standing there - dressed in a big black and yellow waterproof jacket with a hood. He had black hair and was in his 20s. I thought: 'That must be SVF's brother, SF' (although he is older than us in reality and therefore appeared far to young in the dream, looking nothing like him). I also thought: 'They've got the same initials, how am I going to distinguish between them?' (I think I must have been thinking about recording the dream upon awaking - I have had a few occurrences of these thoughts whilst in dreams - but unfortunately, they do not seem to trigger lucidity. The problem with initials was easily solved - upon awaking and recording the dream - but using SVF's middle name initial). I was then in a hospital, with my mum. We were looking into a hospital room where a very young girl and boy were (approximately 14 - 16 years of age). The girl was in the hospital bed, with the covers pulled up to her chin and the boy was sitting on the edge of the bed. We were not quite sure why they were in the room, but kept watching. Listening to their conversation, we were able to learn that the girl was about to give birth. 

I woke up.

My mum, myself and others were now in the basement of the hospital. It was very dark and everything looked grey, metallic and industrial. There were pipes and beams and boilers and the basement was huge. In the middle of the concrete floor, a large mirror was set up. My mum and I were trying to encourage the other to look in the mirror. I said: "I'm happy Richita can't see this..." and my mum agreed. I looked in the mirror and saw a glowing shape - it looked like an upside down crucifix, but more gothic in shape/style - superimposed on my forehead in the reflection. We all (me, my mum and the others assembled in the basement) had a laugh about it, and when I touched my forehead it felt normal. We went back upstairs to the main bit of the hospital, where we came across a group of young teenagers, wearing a mix of casual sportswear and gothic makeup. They were loitering in the corridor, looking menacing. We walked with them, in silence to the room where the young soon-to-be-parents were. The girl had now given birth to twins. The boy said: "We thought there was only one!" The room was crowded with their teenaged friends, all celebrating. 

I woke up.

Homer Simpson was in the basement of the hospital. However, he was not animated, but a real person. He looked in the mirror, as I had done. A glowing mark appeared on his head - it was the shape of a pick axe. He touched it and the pick axe shape detached from his head and floated up towards the ceiling of the basement, where it became a real, solid axe with an orange wooden handle. Looking around, many axes and hammers and other tools were hanging from the ceiling. They started to fall down, where they then became animated, banging on the concrete floor as if they were being used by invisible workmen. Homer started to walk down one of the passageways in the basement, but came across an army of skeletons, marching towards the main part of the basement (where the mirror was set up), picking up tools (weapons?) on the way.

I woke up.

Dream 97

SC (my ex-boyfriend, some years ago) was seated at a bench, dressed in a white 'wife-beater' vest, baggy blue jeans and Nike trainers - white and blue. He was sketching something on large pieces of white paper in pencil. We spoke, but I cannot recall what was said, or any other circumstances of the scene.

I was then in a bedroom, which did not resemble any real-life ones, with PS. He was logged onto his Facebook. I noticed a comment from a blonde girl - I could not see her profile picture clearly, or read what she had written. Her name is not recalled to me now - or in the dream. In the dream, I knew who she was, but had forgotten her name, and from the angle I was standing, I could not read it on the screen. I could, however, see that it was a name made up of four separate parts, all linked with a hyphen. I think the name 'Anna' may have appeared somewhere in the name, which was very long. I asked PS if he knew the girl and he said: "Not really". However, I was not satisfied with this answer and kept pressing him. He was sitting down, and I was standing behind him. He finally admitted that he did know her, but not well. I asked him if he had ever sent her private messages and he said no. Again, I kept pressing the issue, until he admitted that he had. I asked him to show me the messages, but he refused. I pushed him aside and tried to log onto Facebook and then go to the girl's profile to have a look. However, the page had been closed and I could not remember her name. I asked PS to tell me, and eventually, after some persuading, he typed her name into the search bar of my Facebook page. I looked at the wall and saw that PS was constantly posting messages to her. I looked at her photographs - they were all of her either in a bikini or naked, but the images were cropped at weird angles or were blurred, extreme close-ups. The blonde girl wasn't very pretty, with a long, pink-toned face, hard features and fine, flat shoulder-length hair, but she was posing in a very sexual way. Some photos were of her genitals or butt, wearing navy underwear which was unflattering and very plain/boring. I asked PS to log back into his own Facebook and show me the messages sent between them. He did - on his iPhone - and they were very sexual/loving, with lots of 'x's at the end - unlike anything that had passed between us. I felt really angry and jealous. PS then told me that he spoke to her on the phone and had met her in person. He really liked her. There was an argument. I woke up.

Dream 96

I was in a bar - the lighting was blue and the atmosphere was smoky/hazy. The bar had leather booth-style seating. Jay-Z and Beyonce were sitting at a table having drinks. I approached them - I stood at their table, and noticed that there was a fruit machine (a gaming slot machine) behind me. I could see the lights flashing. Jay-Z was not being friendly. I looked at Beyonce to see if she would tell him off for being impolite, but she seemed really dopey and stupid - as if she was unable to think for herself. She was just smiling with a moronic expression. Jay-Z was smoking a cigar. I left the bar and went shopping in Norwich city - it seemed as though it were winter time (as it is now in real-life). I was aware that I had an outstanding university assignment/some paperwork to complete and I felt anxious. I went to my nan's home in Sheringham. My cousin HM was also there - sitting in the armchair by the door in the living-room. I stood in the doorway and announced my presence. There was a cat in the room, sitting by the dining table. I did not ask why or how it came to be there, or who it belonged to, but noticed that it was odd as my nan does not have any pets. I walked over to the mantelpiece by the electric fire, which in the dream had converted back to the real log fire which used to be there when I lived in the house as a child. I told my nan that I had met Jay-Z and Beyonce. She did not seem impressed. I reminded her that they were very famous (in real-life my nan knows this - she is quite up to date with modern culture for a lady of her age, and actually admires the Kardashian family and hip hop stars such as Jay-Z, Beyonce etc. In the dream she seemed more 'traditional' and close-minded than real-life). I said: "When she's dead, Beyonce will be as iconic as Marilyn Monroe" (this was odd - I, like my nan, truly believe no famous woman will ever be as iconic as Monroe - largely because of the time she emerged, post-war, and the particular circumstances of her life. I do believe Beyonce is iconic - but not in the same way Monroe is). My nan said: "She will never be like Monroe". I walked back towards the door. HM was not interacting in any way, she was just sitting there. I said in an aggressive manner: "That shows how ignorant you are!" I left the house. As I was walking down the road, I had a strange thought (which should have prompted lucidity in the dream!): 'This is going to be so hard to record on my Blog!' I therefore, not only realised that I was - on some level - dreaming (my Blog relates to dreams - why else would I record the events of the dream, unless I was aware it was a dream, not a waking experience? but also, I attributed a complexity to the dream content - whilst still in the dream - which was not actually there - this was a relatively easy dream to recall and record! I was then in some kind of electronics shop, standing by a counter which was bright white tiled. There were large round lamps overhead. A voice - I could not see the owner of the voice - said: "Are you here for shelf-stacking?" I said: "No" and began to converse with a young male shop assistant working behind the counter. He had mid-brown hair and was wearing a red and white striped shirt, buttoned up to the neck. We were gossiping. I told him that I would have to get back to university soon, and then found myself on campus. I was now in a room, which I am not sure whether it was a classroom or a bedroom in halls of residence. I was standing by a long, narrow window, looking out onto a courtyard (grey concrete). The glass in the window was tinted blue-ish. There were large potted ferns in front of the window and a young woman stood by my side. I did not turn to look at her properly, but I was aware that she was about my height. I said: "Am I at university?" She said: "Yes, but it's Cambridge". I turned to look at the room behind me. I was still not sure what kind of room it was - there was some furniture and a lot of artwork on the walls. I noticed a bright painting of a monkey and another of a clown - I felt interested in my surroundings and thought: 'I must remember this!' I woke up.

Dream 95

The dream started off quite confused - I wasn't sure how it began. I saw a friend, CDF, wearing a pink costume/uniform of some kind. She was sitting at a dining table on a long bench, with other people. I was standing behind her and she had her back to me. I started a fight with her - I am not sure what it was over. I was then standing in another room - there were some TVs in the room, but I cannot remember the other furniture/details of my surroundings. There were other people standing in the room next to me. Another male walked in and stood close to me, staring right into my face. He looked like serial killer and cult leader Charles Manson. He was laughing, but said nothing. He seemed crazy and I was worried. He brought out a razor blade and started waving it in my face. I knew he wanted to cut me. I move backwards, then turned around, looking at the other people standing around me, but they all seemed calm and no-one wanted to help. I faced Manson again - he was still holding the razor blade, aiming for my face.

I was then looking at my naked body in a full-length mirror - I was sitting on the floor. I saw that my nipples were down by my belly button and I was worried that my boobs were really saggy. I stood up and was pleased to see they were back to normal and fairly pert again. I thought it must have been a trick of the mirror. I realised I had to pick up laundry from a laundrette and had a meeting with Social Services in a different town. 

I woke up in bed - although I did not 'wake up' in a lucid sense - I was not aware I was in the dream still. I felt something around my neck - it was a black leather dog collar - I knew this even though I did not take it off and see it. I wondered if I had put on the dog's collar before going to sleep or whether it had been put on me by someone else. The door to the room opened. I noticed the room was very different to my real-life bedroom. I was laying in a double bed with a door adjacent, and a desk against a wall, also adjacent. The room was long and narrow and the light was on. PS entered the room. He climbed onto the bed and hugged me. I thought this was strange as he rarely ever hugs me. I noticed he was topless and looked very different - his whole face shape had changed - now it was broad and square-shaped with a wide jawline and broader features. His hair was dyed bleach blonde. He was now short (my height) and had a very orange fake tan. He hugged me again. Behind him, standing in the open doorway, was a petite girl - I recognised her as L - but she too looked very different - with a rounder face, shorter, blonder hair with a fringe and heavy pastel-coloured makeup. I felt intruded upon and angry. PS said: "I'm all Jersey Shore now". He turned away from me, standing by the desk. I said: "No, you need to go to the gym more". I poked his biceps. He sat at the desk. L was now two blonde women - the only difference between them being the fact that the new, second blonde had shoulder-length hair and no makeup, resembling the real-life L more. There were discussions about eating shellfish. I got out of the bed, by crawling down to the bottom, as there was no space between the desk and the bed. Both blonde girls were sitting on the edge of the desk. I noticed that I still had the dog collar around my neck. I approached the original, shorter-haired L. She said that she had a creative writing assignment for a class she was taking. The assignment was to write a short story about a magic carpet. PS told her she should ask me for help. I told her that I had recently entered a poetry competition where the theme was to write a poem about Aladdin's magic lamp and the genie (this is true in real-life). I could not recall the word 'genie' for some time and kept stumbling over this words, but eventually remembered it. I said to L: "The best thing to do is to go back to the original story and then rewrite it." As I climbed back into the bed, I kept repeating: "It's best to always go back to the original". L wanted to smoke cannabis. I fell asleep in the dream - this was now a dream within a dream, although I was not lucid in any way. In the dream within a dream I was looking at photographs with EB - they were family photographs from a holiday - some showed him and his brother doing various activities on a beach. He showed me a photograph of a female - pregnant. He told me she (the girl) was unsure whether the father of the baby was he or his older brother. I was getting bored of looking at the photographs. We were sitting in his car and the sky was very grey.

American cult leader, murderer and musician, Charles Manson (b. 1934)

Dream 94

Dream date: 14th November 2012 (daytime nap - 20 minutes)

I was sitting at a desk in a dark little office. The furniture in the office was old-fashioned and made of dark wood. There were lots of papers and tools on the desk - it seemed like the desk of an inventor or scientist. I was playing around with a Zippo lighter, which would not light. Suddenly some kind of fluid poured out all over my hands and the desk. I rubbed my face and hair with the fluid. It was excruciating - a stinging, burning pain. I got up and walked towards the door of the room. A middle-aged man was standing in the doorway, illuminated by a bright light behind him. I said: "Is it petrol?" and he said: "Yes". I woke up.

Dream 93

I did the WBTB (Wake Back to Bed) Technique, which resulted in a long, very vivid dream that was very clear in my mind when I awoke properly. I think this dream must have lasted 30 minutes, as it took place during the 30 minute snooze function on my mobile phone alarm.

I was in my nan's living-room in Sheringham, looking out at an overcast daytime sky. The curtains were pulled back as far as they would go, and the bushes/rockery plants had been trimmed back to almost nothing. The living-room felt really exposed - as if we could clearly be seen from the street - which would be the case in real-life. I was telling my nan to watch a reality TV show in which my friend FC was appearing. As we watched the show, it was no longer us in a room viewing a screen - but as if we were there, near the action, although I could hear our voices, disconnected, as I commented and explained things to my nan. I did not see myself or my nan when the TV show 'action' took place and our presence was not acknowledged in any way - so I think we were still watching the screen, the dream just showed me what was on it in close-up. FC was standing in a doorway wearing an orange prison jumpsuit (he has been in prison). I explained to my nan what he had been in prison for. Then I saw a man, older now - with greying black hair and a prominent nose, tied to a chair in a hostage-style, in the middle of an empty warehouse. He was wearing the same orange prison jumpsuit. He opened his mouth and he had terrible, rotten teeth. My nan asked if this was FC - I said: "No, FC is the young man" - but I could no longer see him. My vision panned round, and I then saw FC again, this time dressed in T-shirt and jeans. He looked unhappy. My attention was then drawn from the screen to the window in my nan's living-room. My nan got up to look too. Two men in green wool hats and scruffy black clothing were sneaking around on the path in front of the window. They were crouched low, walking in a stealthy fashion. One of them dropped something in the garden. I looked to see what it was and noticed it was a screwed up ball of tissue with neon green slime in it. 

I saw the back of my head. My hair appeared to be falling out - I had lots of bald patches, which felt smooth to touch. I panicked. I was in the living-room of my former home in Sheringham and my mum and nan were there. Neither appeared to care about my concerns regarding the hair loss and I ran into the living-room where I found a bottle of whisky and some pills - I am not sure what they were. I screamed that I was about to take an overdose and shoved as many pills in my mouth as I could. I then remembered an anecdote from Natasha Lytess, one-time acting coach to Marilyn Monroe, who said she came across Marilyn in bed with her 'cheeks puffed out like an adder' as she had crammed it full of pills and waited for them to dissolve in her mouth (some say this was a 'cry for help' rather than a genuine suicide attempt). Standing by the electric fire, I wondered if I should try and let the pills dissolve and noticed that my own cheeks were puffed out. I then decided to drink the whisky to help me swallow the pills. My mum and nan were screaming at me to spit them out and my mum called an ambulance from her mobile phone, standing at the window. The curtains were drawn and the lights were on really bright. The decor appeared to be as it was when we first moved in - we subsequently decorated many times before moving out.

I was then in some kind of computer room - there was bright strip lighting and the computers were touch screen and mounted on the walls. The screens were double the size of normal PC screens. One of the screens was logged into my Facebook. I noticed a long chain of comments, but did not scroll up to the top to see what the original status which prompted them actually said. I noticed that PS and a female friend, RD had both commented. The full email addresses of all users who commented were displayed below their names. I noticed PS and RD both had emails which ended with '@india_now'. I felt agitated and wondered what this meant. I turned to exit the building and saw CC, a school friend of mine. She said that she was being persecuted by a group of young Arab men. She was carrying a smart brown leather bag. I saw the Arab men - they were dressed like traditional Sheiks and had long gold chains and beards. There was some arguing amongst us and them - we were pushing each other to get out of the door - but the situation did not seem that hostile to me. CC seemed really worried though. We stepped out into bright sunlight and started walking as a group. We were on a path, surrounded by a gleaming blue lake to the left and bright green meadows to the left. One of the younger Sheiks, dressed in burgundy, turned to face me. He was the only one without a beard. He opened his mouth and he had huge square white teeth, inscribed with braille. I thought this was odd. He said: "Master is coming to kill CC". I looked up. There was another Arab male approaching - this time older and dressed in white. His black beard was greying. He was walking towards us, down a grassy hill onto the path. CC got frightened. She wrestled two of the group of Arab men into the lake, with a huge splash each time. The 'Master' ran down faster now - but I still did not feel threatened or scared. I said to CC: "Be careful!" but the 'Master' simply pushed her into the lake too. I woke up.

Dream 92

I was with my mum, my nan and other family members. It was really dim light in an outside setting - we seemed to be just outside the entrance to a seaside resort with a fun fair and other attractions. It seemed like it was daytime, but it looked like it was dusk. My nan pointed to a big white building, which was dome shaped and had a 'frilly' or ruffled texturised roof. She said: "Look at the cauliflower building". The building did resemble a cauliflower and the whiteness of it was very bright and stark against the indigo sky. We walked around in a group. There were other people around. At the side of one building there was some kind of ditch - looking down, it felt like I was standing on a train platform observing the train tracks below. The ditch or trough was filled with black gravel, or pebble of some sort. My mum jumped into the ditch and told me to follow her - I got down more cautiously. We walked along in the ditch and I realised we were walking down towards a beach.

I was in a room and it was quite dark. I noticed there were books lined up on shelves on the walls. I was writing  a book, I saw the pages close up, but the writing did not seem like my own - it was childlike and scribbly. A word was written vertically down one of the walls (which was brown wood). The word was 'moosh' or 'woosh'. 

I was in a huge train station, standing at the bottom of a flight of stairs. A girl I knew from primary/high school, KP (very pretty and popular) was waking down the stairs to join me. We were going to a class together. I noticed she was wearing black Mary Jane shoes, which I admired. I thought: 'if she's wearing them, I should wear mine which are similar' (I do own some similar). However I then thought I should wear the white version I also own, instead. We were walking through the train station and then came outside into light. I realised this was my 'dream town' - a familiar, yet unknown town which appears in many of my dreams but is not recognised as a real-life place (in one dream it was called Sudbury/Sudsbury - but was not either of the two real-life locations which have the same name). We then were sitting at a large table by a window. It seemed to be a cafe on a university campus. Three males joined us, but remaining standing, leaning on the table. We made some form of social arrangements and I felt happy, noting what a nice person KP turned out to be. She suddenly got out a small velvet drawstring bag, and took out a large but diamond, which we both admired for some time.

Dream 91

I haven't been updating my Blog for a while, because I took an (unplanned) break from my dream research (due to an interrupted, irregular sleep pattern and other things being on my mind), but last night I had a long, strange dream which I was able to recall, hence me recommencing my regular posting. I will be making renewed efforts with my dream exploration from now onwards.

The dream started with me having a conversation with my mum, who was seated in an armchair (I think this was in my nan, PC's living-room). I do not remember what we were talking about, but as I looked closely at her face I realised that she looked more like PC than my mum. I was confused about this. 

I was then in a wooden lodge house in the middle of a pine forest - at night. The lights in the lodge were bright and outside, the pine trees were illuminated by lights which were strung up in the branches. It was tranquil and beautiful. There was some bubblegum pink-coloured slimy gunge in a pile on the floor some distance away and I was seated on a sofa which curved around the corners of the room. I saw the gunge, but paid no special attention to it. There were ferns in big vases beneath a large picture window opposite where I was seated. PP was there, sitting close-by and we were whispering to each other. I am not sure what we were communicating, but the mood felt secretive and I was relaxed. Someone entered the room of the lodge from a door behind us. It was one of my relatives and I was told that I had to get myself ready for a party which was taking place in Sheringham, in the Top Club, a working man's snooker club, which I used to visit at weekends with family and friends when I was a child. I appeared to have somehow got ready - I was dressed in a floral or fruit-patterned cotton dress and had joined my family at the celebration, although it was not quite clear what the party was in honour of. My granddad (now dead and previously estranged from the family) was present. He was talking to a group about the privet hedges in PC's front and back gardens and how he used them to harvest Golden Virginia tobacco. People were playing snooker and pool and the mood seemed happy/relaxed. I was standing beside my female cousins, HM and CJ. We were asked to join a darts tournament before the disco started. I noticed various local persons from my childhood, who I am aware still live in Sheringham.

I was then looking at a sheet of paper, with a poem or some other lines, handwritten. Each line was capitalised (I assumed it was a poem, because I write poetry and this was the form that the writing appeared in). I was being instructed on when it was appropriate to capitalise each new line when writing (a poem?). The disconnected voice which I could hear talking was male and unfamiliar. He told me the correct theoretical term for a piece of writing where each new line is capitalised. I could see that the handwriting on the page was not my own as it was large and childish - fairly messy. I then saw a huge clock-face - a round white wall clock, very nondescript. The time was 10.50, but the hands on the clock were moving anti-clockwise. 

I was then laying in a bed in a strange bedroom with PS. He was against the wall, I was on the edge - watching a TV which was positioned against the other wall, opposite. The actress Sheridan Smith was on a TV show. I said: "She is really sexy" and PS said: "Yes, she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen". I felt jealous and wondered if he thought I was ugly now. 

I was then caught up in some strange kind of 'story' where I appeared in the third person - looking quite normal and like I do in real-life. I was with another girl, a blonde who had the same bodily measurements as myself and appeared to be very similar in many respects - long hair etc, as if she were my paler twin. We were both wearing patterned bikini tops and white Hawaiian hula skirts. However, I was not 'thinking' as myself - I was experiencing the dream as a male character called 'Dan' who was interacting with the third-person 'me' (I shall refer to this character as 'Dan' and the third-person ' female me' as 'I' or 'me' to make it easier to know to which person I am referring to - although the majority of my thoughts/interactions were filtered through the 'Dan' character). Dan had a male friend - who I cannot recall, other than we were both young adults and he was white with dark brown hair and wore a dark blue jumper and jeans (I did not see what 'Dan' looked like, as I did not look in a mirror while I was him). Dan and his friend were competing for the interests of myself and my blonde companion. There were plans to go to a beach party. Dan and his friend were fighting over two bras - one white, one black. It seemed the males had to choose one and then present it to one of the girls. Dan wanted to give the black bra to 'me', but there were arguments between the men, fighting over the bras. Dan eventually persuaded his friend that he should have the black bra, and the men then raced each other the a white apartment block in a sunny holiday resort. We ran down some balcony walkways, passing maids cleaning the rooms of the apartments, who had their cleaning trolleys parked on the balconies outside the door leading to each apartment. The mood seemed both frantic and upbeat at the same time. There was bright, hot sunshine and the holiday resort looked lush and exotic. As the far end, on a corner, there was a door which Dan reached first. He knocked on the door and it was opened by me. Dan gave me the black bra, which I happily accepted. Dan felt elated. As he walked back down what had been the walkways (a few feet up), he noticed that he was now on ground level and in Hollywood. He realised that he had been hired - alongside his male friend, myself and the blonde female companion - to star in a 1960s soap opera/reality TV show. I would be known as 'Wilma' and would have my hair in a beehive hairstyle. Dan wondered if he could get out of filming - he saw the set for the new show, which was the same one used in the 1970s show, Happy Days, which was set in the 1950s. It seemed to Dan that the set looked more like a 1950s show rather than a believable 1960s show. He started walking down a pavement, in bright summer sunshine. Dan knew this was supposed to be downtown LA. There was a tall red-brick building on the corner of a street, outside which Dan stood in cool shade. The doorway was open and from inside, the sounds of jazz music could be heard. Dan decided he wanted to join this jazz theatre group (he knew that this was who were inside the building without going in) rather than be part of the 1960s soap opera.  

I was then back in Norfolk - I think it was Norwich - and experiencing the dream as myself. I was seated in a very open 'classroom' which also resembled an airport departures lounge, which metal detectors at the far end and metal clothes rails with coathangers on them, but no garments hanging there. The furniture in the room was emerald green and the style often seen in public buildings - study wooden  desks and itchy chairs, in the green felt-like fabric. On one side of the room was an 'ethnic' display - of rugs, blankets, masks and other ornamental/arty collectables and musical instruments - all in green and brown earthy tones. There were two women present - seated at a desk, which I was sitting on. The two women looked like they belonged in the early 1990s from their hair/makeup/dress. One - with fluffy brown shoulder-length hair, told me: "We're just in the meeting with the social services..." I was bored and wanted the meeting to be over.  I was then outside - it was afternoon and the light was dimming and it was damp, but not raining. I was in some sort of concrete area - suburban - surrounded by buildings and trees/hedgerows. A middle-aged man in a grey business suit got into a pale blue car and drove away while I stood watching. I knew it was nearly Christmas time and thought I should make my way to the bus so I could get back to Sheringam, where my family were again waiting for me. Instead, I walked and found myself in the St Benedicts area of Norwich, where I browsed a second-hand music store (which I used to visit regularly when I lived in Norfolk). In the corner, I found a vinyl record (not sure what of) which came with a fan magazine dedicated to 'Maf' ('Mafia'), the white poodle (cited as a 'poodle' but I don't believe this is the correct breed, as seen from the image below) given to Marilyn Monroe by Frank Sinatra towards the end of her life. I woke up. 

Sheridan Smith, British actress

Pink slime/gunge on floor

Wooden forest lodge

Sheringham Social Club, known as the 'Top Club' as it is one of two working-man's clubs, situated higher up the road

Balcony walkway in holiday resort apartments

Downtown Los Angeles, California

Cunninghams' home set - Happy Days (1974 - 1984, ABC)

Circular Sounds, 5 St Benedict's Street, Norwich

Marilyn Monroe with Maf

Dream 90

This was a really lengthy dream which I kept waking up from (it occurred in the morning) and then returning to. I thought I could recall it in full - which was a little optimistic - and only made a few brief notes in my notebook to prompt recall. However, I cannot recall how the scenes linked and some of my memories are really vague and abstract. 

I saw myself in third person, in the dark, lying back on some grass, leaning up on my elbows. I could not see that there was any difference from my real-life appearance - my hair was long and black as it really is. I was joined by a male, who joined me on the grass. I thought it was EB, but I was confused as his hair appeared to be different. He was wearing a white T-shirt. I think I referred to his hair, because he touched his head.

I was then standing up - and became aware that we were at some kind of outside fair, festival or carnival - there were stalls and people all around and strings of bright lights. I was then inside one of the stalls. PS was running it - it appeared to be a gun shop. He held a gun out (a bright shiny silver revolver), horizontally across both outstretched palms to show me. There was some conversation, but I cannot remember what was said. I realised we were staying at a holiday camp - which was hosting the festival. I was now outside some toilet cubicles - like fancy portaloos. I had a drink in my hand - a clear fizzy drink in a plastic cup. There were other people standing around the toilets and the atmosphere seemed relaxed.

I was then in a well-lit interior - it was a large house, in a strange, completely monochrome minimalistic style which appeared to be influenced by retro 1970s futuristic designs. There were clean white arches and lots of curved, circular furniture. RL was present - I think it may have been his home. There was some reference to Dalmations or a kind of spotty dog - I'm not sure if I saw the dogs. I looked through one of the arches at the bottom of the room, which led to an open-plan kitchen area. I could see a lot of Christmas decorations hung. I sensed some form of 'threat' or 'menace' and decided to leave. RL smiled at me in a very strange way.

I was in a dark warehouse or factory - on a field trip with a group of other people. We walked past a round object - it looked like a 'chocolate fountain', but much larger. It was dirty and was pouring a neon green slime from a sort of mechanical spout in the centre, down into the trough. The slime was then sucked back up into the spout and this continued. I was told: "this is the lungs of a smoker".

I was then told by someone - I am not sure who and I am not sure of my exact surroundings - that Freud and Ricky Gervais had (together, in partnership) come up with a new famous quote. The quote was: "a successful person is one who fails at everything". I felt peace of mind when I heard this quote and I 'remembered' which book I would find it in if I wanted to read it from source. 

There was a conversation with PP. I do not know what was said, but it occurred while we were seated next to one another in a brightly lit interior. I thought: 'why is he talking to me now?'

I woke up. If I recall any other scenes from this dream (sometimes they come back to me spontaneously!) I will update below.

Dream 89

I was walking down an urban city street. There were tall grey buildings (grand looking) lining each side of a wide street. I was walking down the street with a group of people - it seemed like we were tourists. It was daylight. Some people had backpacks. Someone asked me if I knew (London-based, underground) rap musician, KK. I said I did. I turned around and saw KK was behind me.

I was then in an unfamiliar room, sitting at a large table. My mum was there and so was RR, a girl I knew at school and who is a friend on Facebook. I stood up and said something to RR. I do not recall what it was, but she became very angry. I sensed a threat of danger. I picked up a glass and threw it at a wall, smashing it. I saw it smash in slow motion, as it hit the bottom of the wall. The threat seemed to have ended, but my hand hurt. I looked at my palm and saw that four shards of glass were embedded there. I took a pair of tweezers and pulled out one of the pieces of glass - it was about three inches long and the pain was horrific. I didn't want to pull out the other three, but my mum said I had to. I did it, with great pain. Long white strands of gunge - perhaps the inner flesh of my hand - began to pour out of the wounds. I poked it all back into place. I wondered if I needed to go to hospital to get stitches, but found my hands had instantly healed. 

I saw a close up of some teeth (my teeth?). They were totally rotten. A finger touched them. 

I was laying in bed, when my mobile rang. It was SL. We had a conversation and when it came time to say 'goodbye' I was hesitant and the call ended awkwardly. I told him not to forget me. 

I was returning from the shops. I had gone out to buy a snack. I had a drink in my hand and a baguette. I started talking to someone - I think it could have been PS. I sat down on the edge of a outside, concrete fountain - which appeared out of nowhere, as I started this dream scene by entering a doorway into an interior space. I looked at the baguette and discovered it was a BLT. I don't usually eat pork, but I decided I might as well as it was all I had available to eat.

Dream 88

I was wearing a white prom dress, but was disappointed to find that I had a huge black stain on the left side of it. I was very conscious of the stain. I was in a square room where everything seemed to be red. There were people sitting around the edges of the room - it seemed like a party of some sort. 

I wandered through to the next room - it was a nightclub/bar with wooden furniture. In the centre of the room was what I thought to be a jukebox. However, on closer inspection it turned out to be a fruit machine. However, this was a touchscreen one, which could be used to access Facebook. I was shocked to see that it was logged into my profile. I went to click on my friend's profile, but instead noticed an update from PS's account. It was promoting a hardcore band, called 'Red October' (I was not previously aware of a hardcore/emo band named this, but upon Googling it, I found there are several hardcore/emo bands called 'Red October'/'The Red October'. I will investigate and report further. Also note, PS only promotes UK hip hop and hates all hardcore/emo bands intensely and therefore would never post suchlike on his Facebook, much less promote!). I felt a tap on my shoulder, then someone pulling me backwards, towards them. I turned and saw it was a male - a typical 'hardcore kid' as I would describe him. I thought he was beautiful. He had black hair in a side-sweep and a overgrown fringe, flesh tunnels in his ears; tattoo sleeves; a band T-shirt - all very predictable, stereotypical of what I would expect. He had an olive complexion and black eyes, and was exactly my height. He told me he was the singer from Red October. I said that I wanted to hear his band play. We were now standing off to the side, leaning against a bar, which was long and grey. I could see neon lights behind the boys head. He was talking to me in a friendly, intimate manner, but I became shy and tongue-tied. I said to him: "I really love screamo and hardcore and..." I tried to say: "post-hardcore" but kept stumbling on my words. I began walking backwards. It felt like I was walking down steps. The boy was trying to reach out to me saying: "It's OK, I know what you meant..." I then found myself downstairs, in what appeared to be a boxing ring. I was standing on the outside, with the rest of the audience. The boy was with me again. it was dark and there were flashing neon lights. I said to him: "I love Deftones and Glassjaw" and he seemed enthusiastic. I felt confident that I had expressed myself well this time and that we had connected over our shared musical interests. I looked down and became aware that I was wearing a cheerleader outfit - a cropped orange sweatshirt and matching mini-skirt. 

I was then sitting at a computer, in an old-fashioned living-room with floral wallpaper and curtains and lots of lace furnishings and teddy-bears on a dresser. I was researching guitars and kept looking up out of the window - the scene was leafy suburbia, but the weather was gloomy and overcast.

I was then on a bus, seated somewhere near the back. I was watching the people at the front of the bus, when I suddenly realised that the singer from Red October looked like or could have been someone I knew from university, called IM. I then wondered if I was mistaken.

Below are some random images which reflect the 'hardcore/screamo kid' seen in my dream.

Dream 87

Dream date: 29th September 2012

I saw a navy blue car parked in a residential street in north-west London, from the back. It was night. I was then in my nan, PC's livingroom.She was sitting on the sofa. I was standing, looking in the mirror above the fireplace. She kept telling me there was a letter for me, under the other sofa cushion. I was getting angry, telling her I didn't care about it. She was insistent I look at the letter. Eventually, after quarreling for some moments, she retrieved the letter. It was not in an envelope, but it was two A4 pieces of paper, stapled at the top left corner. From the back, I could see through the paper - there were some typed words and some editing in thick black marker pen. I screamed at PC that the letter did not matter, as it was years old and related to university. She started reading the letter. I sat at her feet. She looked at me and I stared back. She was crying. I felt terrible.

I was then alone in the living-room. I became aware that a young, white male with light hair had entered the house. I do not know who he was or remember anything else about him. I had a deep sense of dread. I knew something terrible was about to happen. I said: "You're going to rape me, aren't you?" and he said: "Yes, that's why I'm here..." He walked through the door, from the hallway into the living-room. He lunged at me, grabbing me from behind. I started kicking at him and found a large knife in my pocket. I stabbed it backwards, over my head at him. He fell away from me, and tried to make his way out of the house, although I do not think I caught him with the blade. I knew he had my purse. I ran after him and jumped on his back, putting the knife at his throat. He let go of my purse and made an escape from the house. I walked outside, and once on the garden path, checked that all my money and cards were still in my purse. They were. I went out to the roadside. There was a car parked outside the house, with three young males leaning on it. Two were white, one was black. They asked me if I was OK. I said: "I nearly got raped in there" and they expressed shock. 

I was then in a state where I was unsure of my surroundings. I could hear a song - a melody and words (I cannot recall what song which was, it was lost upon waking). I was tasked with the job of identifying the song. I knew it in the dream, but could not remember the name of the song or the artist and was becoming frustrated. A female voice - detached, I could not see its owner - told me I had failed. My new job was to count porcelain racehorses which were running in laps around a racetrack. Every time one of the 'diseased' horses passed the position in which I was standing, I had to sing a song (again, I cannot remember it).

Dream 86

Dream date: 28th September 2012

I was in some kind of booth - like an old fashioned bank of some sort. There was a counter with partitions for privacy. Everything seemed vague and sepia-coloured, wishy-washy - making me think of Wild West films. I looked down at my hands. I saw I was holding banknotes and coins. I began counting them fast, flicking them through my fingers, like a bank-teller does with notes. I said (to someone unseen): "I bet you haven't seen someone count money as well as I can..."

I was then in a bedroom, laying front down across the width of the bed, on top of a white duvet. JH was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, in front of me. She showed me a two-page spread in a fashion magazine, where she was featured as a model. There were close-up images of her face. I admired them.

Dream 85

This was partly a lucid dream, and a very strange one at that. I have previously noted that sometimes when I drink a small amount of alcohol late at night, I am more likely to have a lucid dream, or at least some degree of lucidity within a normal dream, like last night. I drank two glasses of cider and before I went to bed told myself that if I was able to say mentally "I will remember my dreams tonight" 20 times in a row, then I would definitely recall them when I woke. I fell asleep whilst watching the American NBC comedy series My Name is Earl on the internet. The significance of this will be apparent later. Also at this early stage, I would like to note that PS also had a strange dream on the same night - involving, like mine, a threatening dog set to attack him. Earlier today, N was acting strangely and barking/crying - because there was a dog visiting our neighbours on the estate. When the door was opened, N ran out and had a fight with the neighbour's son's dog, which also happened to be outside on the communal driveway.We had to break the fight up, and luckily, neither dog was hurt in any way (the neighbour's dog was a full Rhodesian Ridgeback and twice the size/weight of N, who still managed to pin him down to the ground!)

Anyway, this dream started with me standing in some kind of lounge/living-room (not very memorable, but I do not recall actually looking around the room - the first and only thing I remember, is standing at the window). I was looking out of the window, onto a green garden. Although the room did not seem familiar from what I could see of it from my position at the window, the garden looked like that of my nan PC's, in Sheringham, except the garden was much longer (in real-life, her garden is pretty long for a council house, but it is separated into two halves by a rockery and some fir trees. The grass seemed beautiful, incredibly green. At this point I was not lucid (i.e. aware that I was dreaming). There was a male to my left side, but I am not sure who it was. I did not turn to look at him at all. Suddenly, I saw a grey wolf-like dog running on the grass towards the window. I wondered if it was a dog or a wolf, as I could not tell. It's teeth were barred in a fierce way and it looked ready to attack. The running of the wolf seemed to take ages, as if I was watching in slow motion. I was gripped with panic and fear for what would happen when the wolf (which was huge, and could easily smash a window) reached me at the window. However, the wolf was taking an unfeasibly long time to get down the garden. I realised it was PC's garden - I found myself looking at a section of it (that which is closest to the 'front-room' (strange name for the room, given it looks out at the BACK garden, Nanny!) window which is randomly linked in my memory when I read Hansard reports (online daily reports of the sessions of Parliament, which I read for my legal studies). Whenever I read those, particularly ones relating to rape/child abuse (relevant to my thesis and other topics I write academic articles on) I get an image of this part of PC's garden - which is odd as I have not been to PC's home once since I started this particular strand of my legal education. I was watching the shed wall and the dustbins. I had time to voice my concerns about the wolf to my male companion; he was concerned and fearful too. It seemed like minutes were passing. I looked directly ahead of me, taking my concentration off the brick shed wall and saw the wolf at the window, mouth wide open, showing razor sharp teeth and a massive red tongue. It had very shaggy fur and big hamster cheeks. I screamed. The wold smashed through the window. I saw a cartoon dust cloud and stars and felt a huge blow, which knocked me backwards. I woke up. However, this was a false awakening.

I was then, lying in bed, thinking I had woken from a scary dream. I could see PS lying next to me in his side of the bed. As I thought about the wolf, I looked up to my left and saw the disembodied head of Darnell Turner (played by actor Eddie Steeples) floating above the bed. His head was double the size of a normal human head and was rotating in a clockwise direction. Darnell is a nice character, and I wasn't particularly scared, but I did become aware I was dreaming. I watched Darnell's head for a while. Then I decided to crawl to the bottom of the bed. I got down there and decided to make a phone call. I used my hands (the thumb and pinky sign for a 'telephone' or 'call me' gesture, as demonstrated by the image of Beyonce, below). I wondered if I could make my hand-phone work. The 'phone' rang, and then was answered by a male. I asked if it was EB, but the voice was unclear. I then realised that it was him. We spoke on the 'telephone' for a few moments. I told him that I was calling him using my hand only, but he did not seem to believe me. The conversation was frustrating (note that in the week prior to this dream, EB had messaged me with the phrase 'Stop crying wolf...' in relation to me complaining of feeling sick). I looked up at the corner of the room, by the ceiling. The room was dark, but I saw there were lots of small boxes mounted on the wall. I thought to myself that they looked like the Damien Hurst artwork (below). Suddenly, the boxes started falling down from the wall. I panicked and fell to the floor. I was screaming, lying on the floor next to PS's side of the bed. PS woke up. He leaned over the side of the bed and started shouting at me for screaming and waking him. He was really angry. I thought we might wake up other people in the house because of all the noise we were making. He hauled me up onto the bed by my arm. I was then laying in my side of the bed. I thought I woke up again, but this was a second false awakening. On this false awakening, I found myself laying in bed next to PS, with my left arm above my head, as I sometimes fall asleep in this position. I realised that the false nail of my left pinky finger had fallen off. I assumed this had happened during the 'lucid dream' phase when I found myself on the floor shouting. I thought I would look for the nail in the morning and glue on a new one (when I woke, I had not in fact lost any of my false nails). 

Eddie Steeples aka Darnell Turner (and Harry Munroe) in My Name is Earl

Damien Hurst, Boxes (1998)

The next thing I recall, I was in a room, with a bright light and normal, nondescript furniture. In the corner was a shelving unit, with paper work on the shelves. In front of that was an orange-brown wooden desk and a chair either side. A man entered the room. He was elderly, short and fat, with white hair and a beard. He was wearing a suit and smoking a cigar. He had a red neckerchief or cravat. While I was standing next to the shelves, he came over and removed a bundle of papers, which he placed on the desk. We both took a seat, me on the chair by the wall. He was telling me that if I paid him £50 and signed the papers, he would make sure I got a place at a good university. I signed the papers and paid him.

I was then sitting in a bath of water, positioned in the middle of the same room. There were people standing around the bath. I'm not sure if I was naked or not. PS was leaning on a counter. He told me I was going to get done for fraud because of the deal I had made with the bearded man. I thought to myself that I could rescind on the deal and escape getting punished for committing this fraud, although I wasn't sure what I had done wrong. I received a text message on a mobile phone. It was from EB. It said: "I'm at the Walker's Marathon, come along. Don't bring K-Dog". I thought he meant that he was at a marathon sponsored by Walker's Crisps, but then thought maybe it was a marathon for people who only walked the route instead of running/jogging. I said to JH, who was at the left side of the bath: "Can I have the key back?" (I had lent her my spare key as she had misplaced her own in real-life). She said: "No". I wondered how I could leave the house to go to the marathon if I didn't have a key to lock the door behind me and get back in afterwards. I woke up.